Page 54 of Reviving Her Highland Spirit

In hindsight, Lyla thought, they really couldn’t have picked a better day for a wedding.

It was a crisp, clear winter’s day, blue skies above and a light layer of frost below, and not a cloud in the sky.

Really, things could have been a lot worse. Everyone knew that winter in the Highlands was an unpredictable beast at best. Weddings at this time of year were usually resigned to wind, rain, and possibly snow.

Almost certainly snow.

There was a sprinkling of snow on the hills, but mostly the flurries hadn’t reached the lower lands. The walls of keep McAlister stood firm against the onslaughts of winter. Their pantries and storehouses were well-stocked, their whole rooms packed full of firewood. In short, they were ready.

One thing the mighty keep couldn’t keep out, of course, was the cold. It seeped through the thick stone walls, sticking its icy fingers through every window and door, skittering along the floors and chilling your ankles. Lyla was used to perpetually cold feet and hands at this time of year.

Except, of course, whenever they were in a room with one of the huge, roaring fires that James insisted on.

Unfortunately, though, there was no roaring fire in the chapel.

Every keep had a chapel attached to it, for the family and household to worship in whenever necessary. Some chapels were never used - particularly godless lairds would use them as storage spaces - and others were open to the public as well as the household. The McAlister chapel was somewhere in-between. Today, however, it was full. The pews were jam-packed, with nobody able to move so much as an inch without elbowing their neighbor in the ribs. At the back of the chapel, it was standing room only.

Well, that was to be expected. The church had been thrown open for today, and everyone was keen to see Lady Margaret McAlister’s marriage.

Nothing to do with the sumptuous feast promised afterwards, of course. Lyla slipped an arm through her husband’s elbow, and he smiled down at her.

“Ye made the right choice, letting her marry Callum Irvine,” Lyla murmured.

James snorted. “She is your niece, Lyla. Do ye think she would have listened tae me if I said no?”

“Of course not, but it’s good tae have your blessing. And it was good of ye tae arrange the feast,” Lyla smiled up at him, resting her cheek against his arm. After all this time, James still had the power to tug so powerfully on her heartstrings.

She could only hope that Maggie found similar love and fulfillment in her marriage.

Lyla thought that she would.

Callum Irvine, dressed in his finest clothes, scrubbed, washed, and brushed to within an inch of his life, waited at the altar, nerves and excitement written on his face.

He didn’t have to wait long. The doors to the chapel swung open. As one, the congregation turned around to look, holding their breath.

Maggie stood at the door, and she looked beautiful.

She wore a white wool dress, very beautiful but very impractical - Lyla knew all about the horrors of laundry, and white was never a good color. Her hair was braided and twisted up behind her head in an elaborate style, decorated with greenery and red berries. Her bouquet matched - all greenery, evergreen, fir, and mistletoe. Fresh greenery, of course, since that was all that grew at this time of the year.

Followed by her mother and cousins, Maggie made her way down the aisle of the chapel, eyes fixed on Callum. Lyla glanced back to see Callum’s face. He seemed to be holding his breath, his eyes and entire being fixed on Maggie.

Lyla hid a smile.

Yes, they could be a good couple indeed. She sent up a quick prayer - she might as well, since she was in a chapel - for their health and happiness. They deserved it, after what they’d been through.

* * *

“Come on. Come on, Callum!” Maggie said, laughing. She grabbed Callum’s wrist, towing him away from the long, over-full feasting table.

Callum glanced over his shoulder. “Are we leaving our guests to their own devices?”

“Yes, we are,” Maggie murmured, pulling him close for a kiss. “Ma and Da are around tae take care of them. There’s plenty of food, and Uncle James and Ian can handle things if they get too rowdy. I think ye and I deserve a little while alone, don’t ye?”

Callum flushed. “I’ve hardly exchanged a word with ye since our vows.”

Maggie chuckled, turning on her heel to tug him back towards the stairs. They climbed quickly, the stairs rounding the cavernous feasting room, leading up towards the bedrooms. Maggie knew which room had been prepared for Callum and her, and she was excited to see it for the first time.

That wasn’t the only reason she was so keen to leave her own wedding feast and go upstairs, of course.