“What would ye recommend?” Blayne asked, while Charlotte kept her gaze on his chest.
“We’ve a suckling pig this evening. It’s been roasting since morning.”
“Two portions of that then,” Blayne said, “along with two tankards of ale. And please make sure Miss Russell’s maid receives some as well.”
As soon as the serving girl was gone, Blayne returned his attention to Charlotte, “Now then. Let’s figure out when we ought to get married.”
“As soon as possible.” Charlotte’s cheeks turned an even deeper shade of pink, but she did not shy away from looking at him while she spoke. “After you’ve met with your mother.”
“And after yer wound has completely healed,” he added.
“But that could take several more days.”
“It probably will, but I’d like ye to be completely recovered for our wedding night.”
“Goodness.”
He grinned and placed a swift kiss on her cheek. “We’ll start with my mother tomorrow and take it from there. Besides, this may be Scotland, but I still intend to wed ye in a church in front of a vicar, not over an anvil like some eloped couple with scandal nipping at their heels.”
She snorted. “I’d say we met scandal face to face and gave it a run for its money.”
“True enough, lass. True enough.”
In the end it took four days to arrange the wedding, at which point Charlotte’s wound was healed, but still a tad sore. Blayne’s reunion with his mother a few days prior had gone remarkably well, but he’d been in a dim mood when they’d left. His guilt over what had happened and the subsequent choices he’d made still dogged him. Charlotte could only hope the weight he carried deep in his heart would ease with time and that bringing his mother to live with them would help in this regard.
Dressed in a pale pink day dress she’d packed for her journey, and accompanied by Daisy, Charlotte went to meet Blayne by the inn’s front door. He was joined by Marcus with whom he appeared to be deep in conversation until he registered her arrival.
Eyes sparkling with unabashed pleasure, he turned more fully toward her. “Are ye ready?”
“More so than ever before.”
Blayne offered Charlotte his arm. It was a short walk to the church and the weather was pleasant, so they’d chosen not to bother with taking the carriage.
“How’s your plan to become a doctor coming along?” Charlotte asked Marcus when they’d gone a few paces.
“Well, I imagine. I’m to meet with the admissions board tomorrow to learn if they’ll accept me.”
“They will,” Blayne said. To Charlotte he added, “He’s received letters of recommendation from the Duke of Redding as well as from two physicians who work at the hospital where you were treated.”
“Impressive. When would you be scheduled to start?”
“The academic year begins in ten days, on September twenty-first.”
“I’m excited for you,” Charlotte said. They’d reached the church. “I trust you will write to let us know how it goes?”
“I still have to be admitted.”
“You will be,” Charlotte said, echoing Blayne’s sentiment.
They entered the church and greeted Blayne’s mother who’d come with her maid. The vicar came to bid them all welcome. “If ye’re ready, we can proceed.”
Charlotte took a deep breath and smiled at Blayne. “Shall we?”
“Absolutely,” he murmured and led her toward the altar.
Not a single word was spoken this time when the vicar asked if there was cause for Blayne and Charlotte not to be joined in holy matrimony. She breathed a sigh of relief and glanced at Blayne. His smiling eyes met hers and instantly warmed her heart while he promised to love her, comfort her, honor, and keep her in sickness and in health, forsaking all other,
And then it was her turn, to make the same pledge. Speaking clearly, she said, “I will.”
