Page 93 of Claimed Highland Brides

NUPTIALS

His heart was beating rapidly as he watched her walk towards him in the tiny chapel on the grounds of Braenaird Keep. Her plaid gown with its white kirtle complemented her coloring so well that she resembled nothing so much as a woodland nymph, come to grace the mortal world with her presence for a while.

Before the ceremony, he had met with Daividh and the family solicitor in his study to sign his marriage contract. Everything had been laid out in excruciating detail including what he could and could not do with his dowry. For one thing, he could spend the proceeds as he pleased but he was not, under any circumstances, to transfer the properties to other parties.

That was going to be a problem.

His throat burned and he blinked rapidly, trying to inhale deeply, as she approached, a smile winking on and off her face. For a while, he forgot about his sister and what he stood to gain with this marriage. He forgot everything that wasn’t Jamesina—her cold trembling hands in his, her wide-eyed stare making him feel as if he was drowning in a deep brown pool of swirling sunlight. He smiled tentatively, squeezing her hands as they said their vows. When the priest produced a knife and cut through their palms, sticking them together and uttering Gaelic words that he asked them to repeat, Delwyn didn’t even flinch.

Then someone was slapping him on the back and there was a cacophony of cheering.

He laughed, unable to believe the bubble of happiness burgeoning in his belly. They led their guests to the heavily laden tables where everyone filled their plates with food.

Delwyn let himself enjoy the revelry, deciding that he could think about his sister in the morning. In any case, he had to wait for her abductors to communicate with him.

He danced with each of Jamesina’s sisters, as well as his bride. After an endless number of toasts from friends and strangers, Jamesina disappeared with her sisters while he was corralled by Daividh. Several unhelpful suggestions were made as to how he was to consummate his union and he tried his best to remain oblivious. Soon, the laird took him by the arm and led him to what he could only assume was their wedding chamber with much fanfare and lewd suggestions. Delwyn was quite embarrassed by the display but the men simply found that to be another source of amusement.

Daividh thrust him into the room, where he saw that Jamesina was waiting, with one last quip. “Now dinnae come oot until ye’ve bloodied the sheets!” he shouted with a good-natured cheer before slamming the door in their faces.

And then they were alone.

* * *

Jamesina turned to face her husband, having to remind herself to breathe. Earlier in the evening, her sisters had brought her to the marriage chamber, helped her out of her wedding dress, all chirping with excitement, and bathed her in lavender-scented water. Fiona sent the younger girls away before she and Freya dressed Jamesina in a lace and muslin shift for her wedding night. Freya brushed her hair until it shone with fiery glory, cascading down her back before nodding with satisfaction and stepping back. Fiona kissed her cheek and urged her to just relax and let nature take its course before leaving her alone to wait for her husband.

She smiled tentatively as Delwyn avoided her eyes.

“Well that was…something,” he said with a loud expelling of breath.

“Aye weel, at least they dinnae offer tae stay and watch.”

His eyes widened with alarm. “That is a possibility?”

She waved a hand. “Nay, they wouldnae do tha’!”

She folded her hands in her lap as the silence stretched between, the air so brittle it could snap after that last exchange.

He glanced at her and then away, hands studiously clasped behind his back as they stood on opposite sides of the bed, both unsure of how to proceed. He cleared his throat, looking down at his shoes and then up again. He met her eyes, his mouth stretching into a smile even as he swallowed almost audibly. “Would you...would you like to have a seat?”

She immediately sank down onto the bed, her breath shaky and knees unable to support her as she twisted her hands in her lap. She pursed her lips before risking a glance up at him. “Ye do ken how tae, er…”

“Of course!” he exclaimed, eyebrows quirking, “Usually I am quite…adept at this. But I have never been with a virtuous woman before and I am just trying to think how to start.”

She looked to the table by the bed, where a bottle of whiskey sat together with two cups and a plate of rolls. “Perhaps we can start by having a wee dram?”

Delwyn looked at the table as well. “That is a fine notion.” He moved towards the table and picked up the bottle, filling up the two glasses before bringing one for Jamesina. He held up his own cup in a toast. “Sláinte,” he said solemnly and she bit back a smile.

“Ye almost pronounced it correctly.” She grinned as she took a sip of her whiskey.

He smiled back before his mouth twisted and the smile turned self-deprecating. “Aye well, I’m learning.”

“Aye, ye are.” She saluted him with her glass before taking another sip, green eyes resting thoughtfully on him. “Would ye tell me something, Delwyn?”

He turned to look at her, eyebrows raised.

“Why are ye here really?”

He sighed, closing his eyes and then opening them again. Her eyes narrowed the longer he kept quiet.