The Highlander’s Rescued Maiden by Anna Campbell
Chapter 20
As it was, the ceremony didn’t take place for another week. Will soon realized that his parents would hate to miss their eldest son’s nuptials, not to mention he was eager to show his bride off to his closest family. So the day after Ellen and Will’s arrival on Askaval, messages went off to Achnasheen, inviting the laird and his lady to a wedding.
His parents and brothers and sisters, along with various spouses and offspring, had arrived last night, agog with curiosity about Will’s mysterious betrothed. As his older sister Grainne put it, Will had spent his life steering clear of the parson’s mousetrap. The lady who caught him must be special indeed.
Of that, he had no doubt. He’d fallen in love quickly, but every day brought new and fascinating revelations about the woman he adored. Ellen soon found her place on Askaval, and the welcome Dougal and Kirsty gave her meant that while she was nervous about meeting his mother and father, she wasn’t too self-conscious to make a favorable impression.
As the shadows that had crowded around her on Bortha receded, she became lovelier than ever. She’d feared that strangers would treat her as an oddity, but nobody paid her infirmity much attention. By now, Will seldom noticed any unevenness in her walk. It was just a part of her, the way sparkling blue eyes and rich golden hair were part of her.
It was too soon for him to judge how she’d cope with his parents. They’d all spent the evening together, and signs were good that initial goodwill might mature into something more lasting.
Now he stood in a fever of impatience at the altar in Askaval’s pretty little church. He couldn’t wait to claim Ellen as his bride.
The week had been so busy that he’d had to survive on stolen kisses. Not for the first time, he blessed the storm that had granted him those days alone with her. Right now, carnal hunger was eating him alive. Ever since she’d agreed to marry him, he’d burned. Despite the many shocking things he and Ellen had done to each other, the final intimacy was yet to come.
He had a stern word with his carnal hunger, because he was in a church and he loved Ellen for much more than just the way she stirred his masculine instincts. The carnal hunger paid him no heed.
“Stop it,” Dougal murmured at his side. He was dressed in a formal black velvet jacket and the Drummond tartan in green and gold. Will was similarly attired, although his kilt was in the Mackinnon colors of red and black.
“Stop what?”
“Thinking about what you’d like to do to Ellen when ye get her alone. It’s no’ seemly.”
“How did you…” Then he shut up. Of course Dougal knew. He’d been a bridegroom four years ago, and his love for his wife included a healthy dose of earthy satisfaction. “You’re right. I should be ashamed of myself. But a week’s a long time, and we’ve hardly had a minute alone. It’s driving me up the wall.”
Dougal’s knowing chuckle died when he met the minister’s repressive stare. He had the grace to blush and shuffle his feet. “Aye, Ellen and Kirsty have been closeted away on wedding business every day. You’re no’ the only one feeling neglected, cuz.”
Dougal didn’t appear to mind too much, Will noted. “The world owes Ellen a proper wedding.”
“Aye,” Dougal said, and this time he didn’t sound like he wanted to laugh. Dougal and Kirsty had been outraged when they learned the details of Ellen’s captivity.
Will cast a glance across the packed church. Gus Macbain, Kirsty’s father and the Laird of Askaval, had returned from his travels with his wife – and Will’s aunt – Ada. Will’s parents Callum and Mhairi occupied a front pew, with his brothers and sisters and their spouses and children spread about them. All looked in high spirits, thank heaven. His younger brother Sebastian sent him a wink and a thumbs up of encouragement.
Will wanted to give his beloved the world, but the first thing he wanted to give her was a family. She’d been alone and undervalued too long.
Kirsty was absent because she acted as Ellen’s attendant. Ada held wee Sorcha who was living up to her reputation as a placid baby. Dougal had had stern words with his two-year-old son Alexander about the importance of this day for his adored godfather. So far that lecture seemed to be taking effect, although Will wouldn’t wager a groat on the good behavior lasting past the ceremony.
The rest of the congregation included friends from Askaval. Since Dougal’s marriage, Will had found a second home on this beautiful island. If he’d ever thought about marriage – and he hadn’t very often – back in his bad old days, he’d imagined wedding in the medieval chapel at Achnasheen. Yet today it seemed only right that he and Ellen should make their vows on an island. After all, it was another island that had brought them together. And given that none of her kin attended the ceremony, he liked that they plighted their troth here where the world wasn’t all Mackinnon.
A murmur rose outside. The islanders who hadn’t been able to find a place in the church were crowded around the doors to see the bride arrive. Will’s heart gave a great thud as if to remind him that from this moment, his life changed forever.
“Nervous?” Dougal whispered.
“No’ a bit of it,” Will replied, and he meant it to his soul. He wasn’t a superstitious man, but he believed what he’d said to Ellen back on Bortha. She was born to be his.
The organ in the loft started to play something slow and solemn, and the congregation stood with a rustle.
Kirsty stepped into the church, carrying a bouquet of summer roses from Tigh na Mara’s gardens. She was wearing a deep blue gown that was dashed becoming. She glanced up to where Will and Dougal waited and gave them a misty smile.
Then everything but the sight of Ellen faded from Will’s vision. Illuminated in a ray of sunlight, she paused in the arched stone doorway. She stood straight and proud, and the radiant joy on her face made the bright day seem dull by comparison. She’d tied her heavy golden hair into an elaborate arrangement with pearls and flowers. More pearls decorated her simple cream silk dress. She, too, held a bouquet of roses, cream to match her gown.
He’d wondered if she’d be a shy bride. She was among strangers, and she was sensitive about her limp. But she swept into the church like a queen claiming her kingdom.
In Ellen’s presence, his heart always found itself performing acrobatics. Now it swelled so huge with gratitude that this marvelous woman had agreed to marry him that it threatened to break free of his chest. What a lucky devil he was.
The breath escaped his lungs in a gasp of admiration as she started down the aisle. He never cared about her lameness, except for the way it affected her view of herself. At this moment, Ellen moved as if her uneven gait was no flaw, but just one more aspect of her dazzling beauty.
It took him a second to realize that unlike every other wedding ceremony he’d ever attended, no man accompanied the bride. Instead she approached him, solitary and incandescent with happiness. With a shock, he realized that this was just how it should be. Ellen made a gift of herself to the man she loved.
Will swallowed to shift the jagged boulder of emotion blocking his throat and blinked to clear the moisture from his eyes. If ever he wanted to see everything, it was now.
“By heaven, she’s beautiful,” Dougal said beside him, and Will heard an echo of his own awe in his cousin’s remark. “And brave.”
“Aye, she’s a remarkable woman,” he said in a raw voice. Will had always known it, but as Ellen made her way down the aisle, he thanked God that at last she recognized the truth, too.
He thought he couldn’t be prouder of her until the minister asked, “Who giveth this woman to be married to this man?”
Ellen answered in her clear contralto, “I give myself to William Mackinnon for as long as I shall live.”
“My darling, I love ye,” he murmured, taking her hand. When she smiled into his eyes, he recognized a love that would sustain him for the rest of his days. With happiness overflowing from his heart, he kept hold of her hand and turned to face the altar.
