“Yes, My Laird,” she replied, smiling a beaming, radiant smile. “A thousand times, yes.”
EPILOGUE
The next few days passed in a haze of joy, during which time Eliza wrote a letter to her sisters informing them of her upcoming marriage.
Dear Margot and Juliet,
I am writing to tell you about the most wonderful thing that has ever happened to me! I told you that Laird Duncan Sinclair was a decent man, but I have discovered that he is much, much more than that. He is the best, most generous, brave, and loving man I have ever met. He saved my life when I was threatened by some very bad men, but that is a story I can tell you next time we meet, which, I hope, will be soon.
Anyway, I hope you are both sitting down in case you faint when I tell you my next piece of news. I have fallen deeply in love with Duncan, and he has fallen in love with me—yes, I know it’s hard to believe, but it is true!
Now, brace yourselves for the best news of all. We will be married at the beginning of September on my birthday, and I will become Lady Eliza Sinclair. The people here still call me a“Sassenach,” and many are not overly fond of me, but I think I am gradually winning them over, especially since I have begun to learn to speak some Gaelic.
I have just started to make my wedding dress, and I have enclosed a little scrap of the fabric and a drawing of my design to give you an idea of what it looks like. It should take me a few weeks to sew, and though I told Duncan that I would wear a sack if it meant we could be married tomorrow, he insisted that I deserved better. He actually sent for a merchant who imports velvet, silk, and lace from the continent to come and see me.
I wish you could be with me on my special day, but I know Father will not let you come to see me. However, I know you will both be with me in spirit, and I will imagine you each standing by my side as I make my vows.
I must go now, but I will write soon.
I love and miss you both so much, my dear sisters,
Your very own,
Lizzie.
Eliza sealed the letter with the stamp of the Earldom of Harwick, but felt a grim satisfaction in knowing that it would be one of the last times she would have to put her father’s family name on a letter. After her marriage, she would proudly seal her letters with the Sinclair crest and forget he ever existed.
Eliza gave the letter to the Captain of the Guard to arrange for its delivery, then went back to her chamber, where she had set aside a special corner as her work area.
Duncan had provided her with a big table on which to cut her fabric, and she was making good use of the material he had given her. She was happy to be her own modiste, since this was thebest use of her talents and the project into which she could pour all her love.
Eliza had designed a plain but elegant dress in her favourite colour, deep crimson, trimmed with fine broderie Anglais lace. She knew it would be hard work, but it would all be worth it to see the look on Duncan’s face when she walked down the aisle.
It took two weeks to finish the wedding gown, even though Eliza spent just about every waking moment working on it. She sewed seams then ripped them out and sewed them again, since she was a complete perfectionist and would not stop until everything was done to conform to her almost impossibly high standards.
At last, however, the simple, elegant dress was completed to her satisfaction, and Eliza stood in front of the mirror with a new, carefully vetted maid called Shona whom Duncan had employed especially to serve her. She was a sturdy, no-nonsense, middle-aged woman with fair hair and fierce blue eyes, whose very presence struck fear into anyone who challenged her.
After Maisie, Eliza had been reluctant to trust anyone again, but she soon found that Shona was akin to a loyal and sometimes fierce guard dog, and after a while she began to feel safe with her.
Now, as Eliza looked at herself in the mirror, Shona draped a Sinclair tartan plaid over her shoulder and across her chest. She pinned it on with a silver brooch bearing the clan motto,Commit Thy Work to God.
“Ye look like a queen, Milady,” Shona said as she stood back to survey her mistress, smiling.
“Thank you, Shona,” Eliza said nervously. “I cannot stop shaking. I’m so nervous.”
“Show me the bride that isnae!” Shona said, laughing. “We were a’ the same on our weddin’ day, but ye are marryin’ a good man, Milady, so be at ease.”
After a few more moments of primping, they made their way to the church, and Shona left Eliza at the entrance with a warm, “Good luck, Milady.”
The church was full, even though Duncan had only invited his closest and most trusted friends, and none of Eliza’s family had been able to attend due to the cruel obstinacy of her father. However, every servant in the castle had been invited at Eliza’s insistence, and the pews were jammed.
Yet only one person mattered to Eliza, and as she walked slowly down the aisle, trying to calm her racing heart, she saw Duncan standing waiting for her at the altar, beaming at her. In his clan finery, he was so very, very handsome that she could hardly focus on anything else. His deep red hair glowed in the sunlight, his amber eyes were shining with love, and as he held his hand out to her, he murmured, “You are the loveliest woman I have ever seen, Eliza.”
Eliza could hardly speak, since her throat was choked with tears of happiness, some of which leaked from her eyes as she looked up at Duncan.
“I love you,” she whispered.
He leaned forward and kissed her tears away, then they turned to the minister, who read the blessing and proceeded with the ceremony.
