The men slept in the hall. The bride would not arrive with her family and clan folk until the wedding day. Rob’s mother and his sisters cleaned and refurbished the chamber that had been his, and that he would now share with his wife.
The wedding day dawned sunny, for it was August, and August seemed to be a bright month in the borders. The Bruces of Cleit arrived in early morning with flags flying and pipers piping. The blushing bride was on a pale dun-colored mare being led by her father. Annabella thought Alys Bruce a pretty girl, although she had not the beauty of the lady Anne or her three younger daughters. The pastor from the nearby village kirk came to unite the young couple in a plain and simple ceremony.
Then they returned to Rath Tower to celebrate this new union between the Bruces of Cleit and the Bairds of Rath. The feast was held in the hall. There were roast meats: beef, venison, lamb, and boar. There were trout and salmon from the nearby streams and rivers. There was an enormous pie filled with rabbit, carrots, and tiny onions surrounded by a rich wine gravy, and topped with a flaky crust. There were ducks roasted until their skins were crispy, and swimming in a plum sauce. There were capons stuffed with sage, bread, onions, and celery. There were two roast turkeys, and platters of quail eggs. Lettuces had been braised in white wine. There were bowls of tiny peas. The trestles had small wheels of hard yellow cheese. The high board had two cheeses: a hard yellow, and a soft white French cheese. There were ale and cider and wine to drink.
They ate, and they toasted the bridal couple. Annabella thought her brother looked genuinely happy, as did his new wife. And when the feasting had ceased they went outside into the summer sunshine, where an archery contest was in progress. In a nearby field a group of men were kicking about a ball made from a sheep’s bladder. A group of musicians played, and there was dancing. Annabella and her sisters briefly joined in the round, catching hands with the villagers and cavorting in a circle, first this way and then the other.
Angus watched his wife, thinking that although her sisters had great physical beauty, Annabella was truly the most beautiful of them all, even if they didn’t know it. Her goodness radiated from her plain face. Her gray eyes sparkled, and her smile was sweet. The laird of Rath came and stood next to his son-in-law. “It pleases me to see the love ye hae for her,” he murmured softly.
“She’s yer daughter,” Angus answered quietly. “Ye know what she is like.”
“Aye, I do,” the laird replied, “but most men could nae get by her plain face. Ye did, and discovered the treasure that I gie ye. I am glad, for she loves ye too.”
Angus Ferguson smiled. “Aye!” he agreed. “Are we nae the most fortunate couple, my lord?”
The day began to wane, and they returned to the hall to feast once again. It grew near the hour that the bride and groom would be put together. But first Rob and his three brothers-in-law danced amid the swords laid out upon the floor as both the Baird and the Bruce pipers played. As their dance was coming to an end, there was a small disturbance at the far end of the hall. The mournful sound of the pipes died away as a gaunt figure stumbled forward toward the high board, hands outstretched.
Myrna and Sorcha screamed softly. Alys clung to her bridegroom. The lady Anne looked to her husband. It was Annabella who recognized the visitor. “Agnes!” she cried. Then she rushed to catch her youngest sister, who was collapsing to the floor. She sat on the hall floor, cradling her sibling in her lap. The girl was covered in the dust of the road. Her hair was matted, her garments shabby, and she was very pale. “Agnes,” Annabella said again. Her hand smoothed a strand of hair from her sister’s face.
“Am . . . I . . . home?” Agnes whispered hoarsely.
“Aye, ye’re home, and in time for the end of Rob’s wedding day,” Annabella said.
Agnes sighed deeply, and then her eyes closed as she fell into a deep sleep.
The lady Anne was now by her eldest daughter’s side. “What hae happened to her, Annabella?” She gave a little shriek. “She is barefoot! Where are her shoes?”
“We need to get her upstairs and into bed,” Annabella said.
It was then Myrna’s big Highlander husband, Duncan MacKay, stepped in, saying as he gathered Agnes up into his brawny arms, “Where do ye want me to take her, my lady? God’s blood, the lass weighs nae more than a bag of feathers,” he exclaimed.
The lady Anne looked distraught. The tower was not spacious. The chamber she shared with her husband was on the floor above the hall, their son’s chamber above that, and his sisters’ at the top. For the first time in her life the lady of Rath didn’t know what to do. She looked helplessly to Annabella.
“We must make a bed here in the hall for her,” Annabella said quietly. She called a manservant to her side and gave quick instructions. In just a very few minutes a small cot had been put next to one of the hearths. It was then covered with a feather bed, pillows, and a down coverlet. Duncan MacKay gently set the sleeping girl down on the narrow bed. “Thank ye,” Annabella said, smiling at him. Then she turned back to attend to her youngest sister.
“We must get her out of those filthy clothes,” the lady Anne said.
Together, amid the finish of the wedding feast, the two women worked to divest poor Agnes of her clothing, bathe her as best they could, and dress her in a clean night garment. The women servants had thoughtfully brought a screen to give them a modicum of privacy. When Agnes was settled, her old nurse patiently combing the tangles from her hair, the lady of Rath and her daughter, the Countess of Duin, came back to the high board, where the rest of the family was awaiting them.
The lady Anne collapsed into her high-backed chair.
Annabella sat down, quietly saying, “As soon as Agnes knew she was safely home, she fell into a deep sleep. She hae said nothing, and so we must possess our souls of patience now until she awakens and can tell us what happened.”
“I think, with both families’ permission, we may dispense wi’ the putting-to-bed ceremony. Alys and I will just go to our chamber now,” young Rob Baird said.
The Bruces agreed with the Bairds. Everyone at the high board wished the bridal couple a pleasant night, and then they were gone from the hall.
Myrna stood up. “I will sit by Agnes’s side for the next three hours,” she said without even being asked.
“I will sit by her for the next three after that,” Sorcha said.
“And I will do the hours before and into the dawn,” Annabella told them. “Ye must rest, Mam, for yer nursing skills will be needed on the morrow, I am certain.”
She was right. Agnes finally awoke the next day with a low fever. Her mother cured it with a mixture of herbs. They were all horrified by her wasted appearance, but she was not yet ready to explain it, or how she had gotten to Rath. Several days passed before, finally convinced that their younger sibling would survive, Sorcha and her family departed for their nearby home. Myrna and Duncan MacKay, along with their curly-haired daughter, Meggie, left the day after. They had not yet allowed little Robbie Ferguson to see his mother, for fear her meager appearance would frighten him. The Bruces had also departed two days after the wedding was celebrated.
“When she is strong enough to travel,” the earl told the laird, “she will come home to Duin wi’ us. She is my brother’s wife. She hae her own house there, and her bairn. Taking care of Robbie again will help her to recover.”
At first the laird protested. “She is my daughter, Angus. She is Rath born.”
