Page 34 of Highlander’s Ancient Vengeance

“Not a drop,” Malcolm said proudly. “We drank all of it, didn’t we, Kenny?”

“Aye, Malky, we did!” Kenneth replied, laughing. In a moment they were both giggling like girls, and a few minutes later they fell asleep, sprawled inelegantly all over the couches.

“Oh, God!” Craig said, pretending to be horrified. “What kind of monsters have we created?”

“They look as though they have been friends forever,” Malle remarked. “It is good to see, but they will be very sorry in the morning. We will have to go and prepare the willow bark tea!”

Just then Margaret came back into the room. She took one look at the sleeping pair and made a strange growling noise that Malle had never heard her make before. She marched over to where Kenneth was lying and slapped his face until he opened his eyes and looked into hers with a dazed, unfocused gaze.

“You’re drunk,” Margaret said in a voice that sounded like ground glass.

Kenneth said nothing, but gave her a bleary smile. Margaret stood up and put her hands on her hips, her face like a thundercloud.

“May we trespass on your hospitality again, Craig?” she asked, embarrassed.

“I was going to offer it,” he replied, smiling at her kindly. “I will see to these two creatures.”

“Thank you so much,” Margaret breathed. “I am going to kill him in the morning.”

“She has killed him so many times I have lost count,” Malle said dryly.

Craig put an arm around her shoulders. “At least one good thing has come out of it,” he remarked, grinning.

“And what is that?” Malle asked suspiciously.

“You are staying here tonight!” he cried in triumph.

20

The Wedding

Malle’s dress was breathtaking, as everyone who saw it said. Margaret had spent weeks sewing it, and she did not stop until every stitch was perfect, and the gown fit Malle like a second skin. It was made of the lightest gray satin, and its pale color was a perfect foil for the river of dark hair that flowed down her back. The dress had a long train, and long fitted sleeves that ended in a point. The waist was high at the back and dropped into a flat point at the front, with pleats of fabric fanning out from underneath it. It had a modest round neckline, and Malle was glad of this, since she did not want her wedding gown to be too revealing.

The reason that Malle’s hair was not tied up in its usual knot was that Craig had asked her to leave it loose, and since it was such a small request, she had agreed. She carried a bouquet of white heather, which was quite difficult to come by and was meant to bring good luck, and around her neck she wore a daisy chain like the ones she used to make as a child from the tiny white blossoms in the fields around the castle. It was a childlike innocent touch and Malle loved it. So did Margaret, who had suggested it.

Malle had finished her ensemble with some silver hanging earrings lent to her by her mother, and when she put them on her wedding finery was complete.

Margaret looked at her and almost burst into tears. “My little girl is leaving,” she said hoarsely. “What am I going to do without you, Malle?”

Malle laughed and hugged her.

“Mammy, there are not enough hours in the day for you to do all the things you need to!” She laughed. “You will never be bored, I promise. And we are not too far away—we can visit. Travel is safer now that there is no feud. And I am in love, Mammy. You have no idea how much I love Craig.”

“I think I do,” Margaret replied, as Malle’s father walked in.

“Ready, love? You look ravishing, and I have never been so proud of you.” His voice was thick with emotion as he hugged and kissed her. “Come on darling, your bridegroom awaits!”

Craig’s hands were shaking. He had never been so nervous in all his life, and it was strange because he had been wanting this day to come for months. Now that it was here though, he thought of the enormity of what he was doing. He was entrusting his life and his happiness into the care of another, and he was taking on the responsibility of looking after her and their children—if they were blessed with any—forever. It was an enormous burden to shoulder, and it terrified him.

He tried to imagine himself with a baby in his arms. A little boy was usually preferred, but in their case they wanted a little Isobell. They had not discussed the name; it had just seemed right. He smiled at the thought of it, but it only brought home to him what he was doing even more forcefully.

This was the most important day of his life, and he prayed to God he could get through it without spilling his wine at Holy Communion or tripping over his own feet. All he wanted was to be safely married so that he could wrap his Malle in his arms and hold her close all night to protect her from any more Alan Bruces. As any man would, he wanted to possess her body, but the thought of holding her after loving her was glorious.

Just then, his father came in. He looked his son up and down, then smiled broadly. He was still a handsome man in his own right, tall and broad like his son, with just a few streaks of gray through his red hair, which he kept short.

“You look grand, my son,” he said proudly, clapping Craig on the back. He stood back to look at him, and his eyes became a little moist. “If only your mother was here,” he said sadly. Craig’s mother had been one of the many women who died in childbirth, and Malcolm Dunbar had never remarried because he had never found another woman to love.

“I wish it too, Father. I would love to have met her, but she will be looking down on us from heaven, will she not?”