4
Lady MacKenzie ordered that a grand and gilded coach be constructed to transport her son to the castle of the MacLeods.
Brodie said that horses would be sufficient transport for himself and his servants.
Lady MacKenzie demanded that those horses be decorated with jewels and finery to boast the riches of the clan and command the admiration of the MacLeods.
Brodie maintained that simple saddles and bridles would be more than adequate.
Lady MacKenzie insisted that Brodie and his servants dress in silks and velvets, wearing their hair in the latest and most handsome fashions, to demonstrate that he came from a family of great wealth and title.
Brodie patiently informed his mother that he and his men would choose the sparest and most functional attire for this journey to meet with his bride-to-be and her clan.
“But why, Brodie?” Lady MacKenzie asked. Her eyes were filled with tears, but Brodie knew it to be naught but her customary sense of overstatement, and so he took it with good humor. “Why would you represent your clan to another for the first time looking like a pauper? Your father didnae raise you to do such a thing, and I’m fair certain I didnae either!”
“Mother,” Brodie answered with a smile, “if I am to impress this girl as her future husband, I do not wish to present myself as one who feels her affections can be bought with gaudy trappings. When first she lays her eyes upon me, I want it to bemeshe sees, not the clothes I wear or the luxury I travel in.”
“In that case, you thickheaded boy,” his mother retorted, “why not simply go on foot, clad in a potato sack?”
“What a splendid idea!” Brodie joked, kissing her forehead. “I shall do precisely that!”
Despite Lady MacKenzie’s hyperbole, neither her son nor the two clansmen ordered to escort him left Castle MacKenzie dressed as peasants.
They were simply dressed as humble travelers, and that was how Brodie wished it.
And Brodie truly did not need much more to enthrall a woman. Built like a warrior, with a huge body filled with muscle, long brown hair to his shoulder, charming green eyes, and a light stubble that made his strong jawline look even more chiseled, he could make women fall for him by simply looking at them.
Now, he was about to encounter the person he was meant to spend the rest of his life adoring, and he wanted to be himself more than ever. He’d meant every word he had said to his fretful mother: He envisioned a first meeting in which his eyes met those of his intended, and they saw into each other’s souls.
Brodie did not want her to be blinded by gold and trinkets when that moment finally came. He wanted her to see the real him, and accept him fully, just as he knew with all his heart that he would accept her.
Now, as he and his companions journeyed across the Highlands so that he could meet his destiny, he found that he could not be happier. In his mind, he played out a thousand different versions of what their meeting might be like, and twice as many versions of what a wonderful marriage they would have.
If Lady MacKenzie had had her way, there would have been banners, drums, and trumpets aplenty to let the MacLeods know that Brodie and his people had arrived upon their lands. As it was, they rode toward the castle unannounced—although the music ringing in Brodie’s heart felt so loud that he was almost certain it would reach the castle.
“This is it,” he said under his breath, gazing across the green expanse at the impressive structure ahead.
“Well, ye may have to wait a bit longer,” said Maxwell, his friend and trusted servant. “The stables stand between us and the castle, so we may as well leave our horses there to be tended to.”
“Ach, only look at the poor devil!” quipped Magnus, Maxwell’s younger brother. “His heart might burst forth from his chest like a bloody cannonball if we force him to wait one more moment to meet his bride!”
“’Tis not only his heart that is looking forward to meeting the girl,” said another man.
They all laughed heartily as they approached the stables. Brodie was gifted a portrait of Isla MacLeod. She was a rare beauty indeed, and he was already greatly enamored of her. He imagined her to be warm, funny, clever, and sweet. He pictured the marvelous conversations they would have, the books they might read and discuss together.
Still, he supposed his companions had a point. There was no sense riding their steeds all the way to the castle just so some poor servant would have to bring them halfway back to the stables. He knew that his mother would be horrified at the thought of her son and his escorts crossing the courtyard of the castle on foot, but the thought of it just made him more eager to do so.
“Very well,” he said with an exaggerated sigh. “Lead the way, then, Maxwell.”
When they reached the stables, a skinny boy in his late teens came out to meet them. He had shaggy blonde hair with several bits of straw stuck in it, and his nose and cheeks were chapped by the sun. “Well, then! Ye are our guests, no doubt? The MacKenzies?”
“Indeed we are, lad.” Brodie dismounted, and his servants followed suit.
“A pleasure to meet ye, then, sir!” the boy said enthusiastically. “My name is Archie, and I shall take good care of yer steeds for ye during yer stay. Welcome!”
“Thank you!” Brodie replied jovially. “I have no doubt that our mounts shall be in excellent hands.”
“Allow me to fetch some feed bags for them and prepare their stalls properly,” Archie told him, “and I shall return directly.”
