Faith’s head snapped up, and she nearly slid down under the water, catching herself with the palms of her hands on the bottom of the tub. “What?”
Berta dumped a bucket of water over her hair and reached for the soap. “I do hope ye are agreeable, lass. The laird wants to wed with ye straight away, and he’ll be most fierce upset if he doesna have his way in the matter. A most stubborn man is our laird, ye ken.”
Faith wiped the streaming water from her eyes and blinked up at Berta. “He just assumes I will marry him? Without even asking? He didn’t even ask me!”Of all the arrogant…
“He took yer innocence, lass. With witnesses, no less. Of course he will wed with ye. He’s an honorable man.”
“Oh.” How could she keep forgetting how different things were here than she was used to?
“Besides which, he was going to wed ye in any case. He had already asked yer father for yer hand, and McAlpin had given his permission.”
“I didn’t know that. My father never said anything to me. He must have asked that night after he caught Bren… well, it must have happened just before I was kidnapped.”
“Aye, that must be the way it happened.”
Berta lathered and then rinsed her hair, an amused smile lingering on her face. Then she helped her from the tub and into a large linen cloth to dry herself by the fire. Not long after, other women began arriving to prepare her for her wedding day. She could not believe it was actually her wedding day, and yet it seemed like the most natural thing in the world, to be marrying Bren. She had accepted it so easily, and almost without thought. She thought of her mother, wishing she could be here with her. Would she have approved? Would she have liked Bren as her son in law? Faith liked to believe she would have, but she now realized how very little she knew about the woman who was her mother. Perhaps she would be able to learn more from herfather. Her father… Her life was suddenly so much richer than it had ever been before.
Her wedding day. She had only known Bren for a few weeks, known about her own wedding for only an hour, yet she was feeling practically giddy with excitement and happiness. And tonight… tonight then, would be her wedding night. Tonight she would be able to touch his warrior’s body all that she wanted, and he would not have to reign in his passions. Tonight, for the first time, she would sleep in his arms. She would wake in his arms. And she would not fight what was between them ever again. She would trust in it and allow it to fill her and make her more than she ever had been, not less of herself as she had once feared.
The door opened again and Mathilde came in, beaming from ear to ear, and carrying a dress laid out across her arms. She kicked the door shut with her heel and brought the dress over to Faith.
“Put it on, I canna wait to see how it looks on ye!”
Faith slipped into the soft cream colored gown. It had dozens of seed pearls stitched in a delicate pattern, and the cut of it fit her exactly. She turned and Mathilde laced the back of it for her.
“Oh Mathilde”, she breathed. “It’s beautiful! But where did it come from? Whose dress is it? I don’t want to take someone else’s best dress if they…”
“It’s yer dress”, Mathilde told her. “The laird had it made for ye for the wedding. It looks so bonny on ye, too!”
“But… he had it made for me before he even knew I would agree to wed him? What if I had refused?”
Fiona looked absolutely shocked at the idea of refusing the laird. “Ye would have to be mad to refuse him, he’s chief of the Mac Coinnachs!”
“Oh, yes, I’d almost forgotten”, Faith said dryly, but with a smile.
Berta stepped into the conversation. “Chief or Laird, he’s a man like any other, and he needs the love and strength of a woman to keep him whole. He kenned that Faith would wed with him, because he couldna see it any other way.” She picked up a brush and began working on Faith’s hair, nearly dry now. “He loves ye, lass”, she said softly. “Have nay doubt of that. I have kenned our laird since the day he was born, and I ken the look of a man who has found the woman that fills his heart.”
***
Bren paced nervously back and forth at the front of the hall. Would she come down? Would he even be a groom this day? He had sent Berta to tell her that he would make it right, as much as he could, that he would wed her immediately. After all, if she had not been taken by Mored, they in all likelihood would have been wed already.
Then he had sent the maid with the gown he had had made for her. He had sent the others to her because he was afraid to go himself. He was a coward, a bloody coward. A part of him was sure she must hate him for what he had done, and he couldn’t bear to see it in her eyes. But now he knew he should have found the courage to go to her and ask her to be his bride. Beg, if he had to. Force her, if it came to that, because he would never let her go. She belonged to him and him alone, and he would have her. But he wanted more than anything else for Faith to give herself to him, to accept him for who and what he was… and to love him. God, he had never before wanted so desperately to have someone’s love! But in his mind he saw again the blood smeared on her thighs, heard her cry of pain as he had so brutally taken her innocence from her, and his heart felt like it was breaking. How could she ever love him after what he haddone to her? His thoughts continued to ramble in such a fashion as he waited.
After a while Bren paused in his pacing to turn and look at the small assemblage. A priest, not necessary by the laws of his people, but needed to make the marriage legal by the laws of Scotland. A few witnesses, including his brothers and Dirc, who wore a look of incredibly smug satisfaction, having given himself most of the credit for finally bringing this day to pass. Bren shot him a look of annoyance. He shouldn’t be looking smug just yet, when the bride had yet to agree to the wedding. Drust had his head bowed and was staring at his feet in a posture of great patience, and Eian kept glancing nervously at the stairs, as if he were just as unsure as Bren if the bride would show up to the wedding.
Most everyone else residing in the castle was busy preparing an impromptu wedding feast and celebration, which would include the entire village, by tradition. Perhaps he was rushing things a bit, perhaps he should have allowed a few days for her to recover, but he would not go one more day without Faith bound to him, legally and otherwise. But if she refused him now… no, he didn’t even want to think of it. He would make amends eventually, perhaps, but he needed her in his bedtonight. And he needed the reassurance that she would not walk away with the other half of his soul, and the best part of his heart. Aye, perhaps he should have begged…
Hiding his roiling emotions with a fierce scowl, he resumed his pacing.
Bren spun around again, having reached the wall at one end of the hall. “Bloody hell, what’s taking so long?” He caught a censorious look from the priest, and offered the man an insolent frown in return. His brother Eian caught his arm as he went by and turned him towards the stairs. He stopped, and in the next moment his heart stopped as well. Faith was slowlycoming down the steps, Berta at her heels like a mother hen. She was wearing the gown he had commissioned for her. The dress had been started that day that seemed so long ago now, though it was not long at all, when he had found her in the kitchens, learning the work of a common servant. The day he had ordered her to stop such work, because a part of him had already known she would be lady of the castle,hislady. When he saw that she had the Dragon Ring, he had had the dress made into a wedding gown, knowing with an absolute certainty and with his whole heart that she was destined to be his wife.
She was beautiful, radiant, perfect, and against all odds… smiling at him. A warm and genuine smile, just for him. He smiled back, letting out the breath he had been holding, relief washing through him like a great and soothing wave. Everything was right.
Dirc took Faith’s arm, leading her towards the dais where Bren was waiting for her. They had only taken a few steps when the door burst open and there was a shout. Faith turned towards the door, and she saw Bren out of the corner of her eye as he drew his sword in readiness to fight.
“Wait!” someone called from the doorway. “Dinna start yet!”
She saw Bren smile and put away the sword, and then she saw her father bound up the steps and into the hall.
