“When you wedded Granda, were you already in love? Or did it bloom over time?”I inquired, curious if Mother’s words were true.
“Your granda and I hailed from the same small village and had known each other for years. Our match, arranged by our fathers, began as a friendship but gradually blossomed into love,”Gran recounted, her voice tinged with reminiscence.
I sat there, wondering if I might be fortunate enough to fall in love over time, with whomever I wed, like Gran had. I had my doubts, as my mother had never shown a sliver of love toward my father. Their relationship seemed to be based solely on duty and a mutual understanding of the expectations of marriage. Love was not part of that equation for them.
“Fear not, my dove. I shall see to it that whoever you choose is a match blessed by love,”Gran assured me, her voice carrying a soothing melody of reassurance.
By the time she had finished, it was nearly five o’clock, and we had little time to complete the preparations. I had anticipated the moment all day, yearning to slip into the heavy velvet dress, to feel its weight upon me. However, as I stepped into it and pulled my arms through its thick velvet sleeves, excitement was not the feeling that overcame me. Instead the weight of my duties to my family snuffed out that small spark of excitement I had felt moments ago.
“Come, come. Let me help fashion this stomacher into place before we lace you up.”Gran took a small needle and thread and secured the tiny triangle of fabric into the bustline of the gown, leaving the trinity knot resting snugly between my breasts.
“It’s exquisite,”I told her as I looked down at the sparkly gold threads.
“And so are you, my dear. It matches you perfectly, and let’s hope it brings you some good luck tonight in meeting a suitor,”she joked, her laugh breaking away into a cough.
I smiled weakly. She looked at me, her kind blue eyes seeing through the surface to the trepidation I was hiding underneath. Rolling up her sleeve, she removed a silver bracelet from her wrist and placed it upon mine.
“What is this?”I asked, looking down. The bracelet had a beautiful Celtic knot that wove its way around the cuff.
“This was a gift from your granda many moons ago. I want you to wear it tonight as a symbol that love may arise from familiar or unexpected places,”Gran said, her voice laden with hope.
I smiled as I spun it on my wrist, admiring its beauty.
After I assisted Gran with her evening attire, the clock indicated quarter to seven, and a carriage arrived at the cottage door. Draping our capes on, we ventured out into the brisk night air. As we drew closer to the castle, my nerves rose within my chest, leaving my palms sweaty and my heart racing.
The castle grounds were bustling with people and carriages, all eagerly awaiting their turn to make a grand entrance into the opulent castle. My stomach turned as our carriage came to a halt outside the imposing castle doors. The footman swung open the door, gesturing us toward the grand entrance.
Once we were inside the castle, a gentleman presented Gran and I, then guided us with a gracious nod toward the great hall. Along the hallwayleading to the ballroom, a cacophony of voices intermingled with the strains of music poured forth from the room.
As I entered the great hall, it felt as if everyone’s eyes had fallen upon me. My dark red gown stood out amidst a sea of greens, golds, and blues.
“You look stunning in that gown, my dear,”a voice said from behind me. I turned to see the duke standing in the doorway.
“Thank you, Your Grace,”I said, taking a deep curtsy as my gran followed suit beside me.
“Enjoy the ball,”he said as he whisked past us and into the crowd.
The other guests quickly returned to their lively dances, revelry, and the clinking of glasses, all set to the sprightly tune played on a fiddle. The dance floor was a flood of Campbell clan kilts with a smattering of several different clans weaving in and out as they danced. The hall’s grandeur surpassed even that of the previous day. Rows of flickering candles adorned the tables and delicate white paper ornaments were suspended from the ceiling, like snowflakes frozen in mid-air.
However, it was the tree that once again captured my attention. Fully decorated now, it stood trimmed with dried fruit, bows, and delicate glass ornaments, undoubtedly an extravagant expense. Intrigued by the concept of an indoor tree, I couldn’t resist gravitating toward it for a closer look.
“Gran, I’m going to have another look at the tree.”
She smiled and waved me off, then went to find a seat near the edge of the room.
Approaching the tree, I was taken aback by its immense size. I had only seen it from a distance yesterday, but now its true grandeur became apparent up close, dwarfing even the tallest of men in the room. Standing beside it, I felt as if I were a tiny doll in its shadow. As I gazed upward in awe, a voice rang out from behind me.
“Odd, isn’t it?”a man said.
I turned to find a gentleman in his forties, wearing a kilt, its tartan that of the Stewart clan. He had a pompous air about him with his sharpnose and beady little eyes. His gaze, however, seemed more fixated on me than on the impressive tree he spoke of.
“I find it delightful,”I said, turning away from the man and back toward the tree, which was much more pleasing to look at.
“Delightfully distasteful if you ask me,”he said back.
“It just so happens, I didn’t ask you,”I retorted, knowing better but not being able to stop myself. He scoffed at me and then disappeared into the bustling crowd.
“I’d much prefer the company of this tree than that man,”I mused to myself.
