“Oh, Maggie, Uncle, hurry!” broke in Keira, who had pushed open the door. “The priest will surely be here soon!”
Anything Magdalene had hoped to say to reassure Gabriel—all of the tragedy striking three generations of MacLachlan wives must surely have been a quirk of fate!—would have to wait as the girls led the way into the cramped room.
The chapel no more than a small, white-clothed altar and two carved benches on both sides of the narrow aisle, a narrow, glazed window admitting soft light.
As Keira and Rhona scurried to the front row, Keira helping her younger sister onto the seat, Magdalene thought of tiny Sister Therese standing next to Gabriel. He had never spoken to her of their proxy wedding but she imagined his strapping captains had acted as witnesses, which made her marvel that they had all fit into such a small space.
She trembled now, though Gabriel still clasped her hand and gave no indication that he intended to release her—and she didn’t want him to.
She moved closer at the same moment he drew her against him, which made her laugh softly and meet his eyes. He stared at her so intently that she felt as if her insides were melting just like two nights past—aye, she was no virgin standing in front of the altar!
That carnal thought made her blush deeply and drop her gaze, which made Gabriel laugh, too, a low husky sound as if he had read her mind.
Warmed that the wedding had lifted his spirits from the disquiet she had sensed for much of the day, she glanced at the girls, who kept looking over their shoulders for the priest.
“There he is!” Keira had jumped up from the bench and helped her sister, whose legs were shorter, while Gabriel wound his arm around Magdalene’s waist and led her closer to the altar.
She had seen the priest before in the great hall, and she bobbed her head at the smooth-faced young man with some embarrassment that she hadn’t met him formally before this day.
“Father Timothy,” Gabriel said as the priest nodded back and hastened to take his place behind the altar. “He officiated at our proxy wedding.”
“Aye, Laird, and I must admit a second wedding is highly unusual—”
“Yet requested by our king, Robert the Bruce,” Gabriel interrupted him, his arm tightening around Magdalene’s waist. She could sense impatience building in him, which only made her blush again as Tam, his steward, rushed into the chapel, huffing and puffing.
“Laird—ah, Earl Gabriel, I only heard the news! Another wedding—but no feast prepared, the great hall not even fully cleaned and swept from the midday meal—”
“We’ll not be joining everyone in the hall, Tam, but going directly tae our bedchamber. See that a hot bath is made ready and bring some food and wine. Magdalene and I have known so little time together—”
“Och, Gabriel, the girls,” she hissed, but already the stout steward was hustling out the door while Grania squeezed past him and made her way to join Rhona and Keira.
For the first time, the older woman smiled at Magdalene though it didn’t seem to reach her eyes, but she was at least grateful they had made a start. Mayhap the two of them would warm to each other once she had a child for Grania to tend to—
“Earl Gabriel…Countess Magdalene,” the priest began, her thoughts of bairns and what was surely to transpire when they were alone in their bedchamber, making the ceremony rush by in a blur.
Yet nothing could have brought everything back into sharper focus than when Gabriel turned her gently to face him.
“Aye, I take thee, Magdalene, as my wedded wife.”
She couldn’t breathe, her heart pounding so hard that she was certain he could hear it as the priest asked the same question of her.
“Aye, I take thee, Gabriel, as my wedded husband.”
She had spoken so softly, but it seemed enough for him, such tenderness shining in his eyes that held a hint of something else, too…not unlike sadness. Yet the priest pronouncing the blessing distracted her, and Keira and Rhona clapping their hands—though Grania quickly shushed them.
Her censure didn’t dissuade the girls from running over for hugs and kisses, Magdalene’s heart warmed by their unbridled affection—but within another few moments the nursemaid had shepherded the girls toward the door. Both of them looked so crestfallen that Magdalene was glad when Gabriel assured them that they would see them in the morning, which brought smiles again.
Their exit with Grania left the two of them alone except for the priest, who busied himself with straightening the altar cloth as Gabriel lifted Magdalene’s hand and pressed a tender kiss into her palm.
“Shall we retire, my love?”
Chapter 25
Magdalene could but nod, shivers coursing through her as he swept her into his arms, no hint at all of pain from the bruises he had mentioned the night before.
If she had thought the ceremony had passed in a blur, Gabriel carrying her from the chapel and down the steps past a startled Grania and his wide-eyed nieces, and then up the opposite tower, seemed a dizzying whirl.
She could not remember him more handsome or his arms stronger or his stride more powerful, his darkened gaze scarcely leaving hers as her heart pounded with his every footfall.
