“Where are we going?” she asked.
“Away from the throng of wedding guests so ye can tell me what troubles ye.”
“Oh.” She went with him without further question.
He stopped when they were well away from the keep, taking both of her little cold hands in his. His green eyes locked on her silver ones. “Now, lass, what has ye worried?”
“There are just so many people here.”
“Ye know I won’t let anyone harm ye?”
“Aye. I was just a little surprised. The MacKays and the MacLeods came from so very far away.”
“I have many allies who were invited, as has your father. I am very pleased so many came.”
She smiled, “Aye, it pleases my father too. It’s just, I am nervous around people I don’t know.”
“But surely ye have met the MacLeods? Laird MacLeod is Rhona’s uncle, they must have been at Peadar’s wedding.”
“Aye, I’m sure they were, but I didn’t go to his wedding. Lady MacKay is Marjean’s aunt, but I didn’t go to Cullen’s wedding either, because neither wedding was at Carraigile.” She looked ashamed.
“Mairead, were ye afraid to leave Carraigile?”
“Aye,” she whispered. “Until I came here, I hadn’t left Carraigile since returning from the Michaelmas Fair seven year ago.”
Tadhg smiled sadly and put his arms around her, “Oh, little one, there is nothing to be afraid of here. If ye feel nervous, just stay close to me, I’ll help ye.” Seeing her furrowed brow, he said, “Ye are still worried about something.”
“I don’t like meeting strangers. I worry…I don’t know who they were.”
“Who are ye talking about, Mairead? The lads who attacked ye?”
“Aye,” she barely whispered.
“Well, I hope men that evil are not among my allies.”
“But what if they are?” she asked in a small, scared voice.
“Would ye recognize them?”
“Aye, I’ll never forget them.”
“All of the guests have arrived now, sweetling. So if ye haven’t seen them, they aren’t here.” She sighed with apparent relief. “How long have ye been worried about this?”
“Since I learned the wedding would be here.”
“Oh, Mairead, ye should have told me.” He kissed the top of her head. “Ye don’t need to be so afraid—I will keep ye safe.”
“I know,” she whispered.
“But, sweetheart, if ye ever see them, or anything else scares ye, ye need to tell me. Promise me ye will.”
“I will,” she promised.
He smiled and took her hand as they headed back to the keep.
After a minute or so Mairead asked, “Did ye really kidnap Katherine MacIan?”
Tadhg laughed. “I really did, but it was for the noblest of reasons.”
~ * ~
Exhausted when she finally went to bed the night before her wedding, Mairead fell asleep almost before she laid her head on the pillow. She woke early to a cold, crisp day, which promised clear blue skies. Moments later the women of her family descended upon her, directing a bevy of servants, who helped prepare her for her wedding. Mairead soaked in a steaming bath containing sweet-smelling herbs. Lily whispered to their mother, “Put in lots of thyme, for courage.”
Mairead smiled because she wasn’t afraid. Tadhg had chosen to marry her aware of her past. He didn’t think she was a coward, but he understood her shyness, and he had promised to protect her.
Not to mention the fact he was terribly handsome and his kisses were wonderful. Her thoughts traveled to the marvelous sensation of his strong arms wrapped around her. She thought too of how her heart raced and her mind seemed to go blank when he kissed her. The thought elicited an unexpected fluttering in her belly. She dipped her head so no one could see the small grin she couldn’t suppress. As the steam swirled around her, she was extremely grateful her flushed face could be attributed to the hot bath. By midday, Mairead was ready. She wore a beautiful sky blue
léine
, the full tunic-like garment that all Highlanders wore. It was made from the softest lamb’s wool, with wide embroidered bands around the skirt, sleeves, and neck worked in gold threads. A gold girdle inlaid with precious stones cinched the waist and around her shoulders, held on with a matching golden brooch, was a
plaid
made of cream-colored wool, woven with stripes of blue and saffron gold. Her sisters wove gold threads through the thick light brown curls cascading down her back.
When she was ready, her mother brought the finishing touches. “Mairead, love, here is your veil and a wreath for your hair. The wreath is woven from ivy because it represents fidelity and love. Each of your sisters selected a dried flower to include in the wreath.”
Annag said, “I put the pink roses in because they are symbols of beauty and grace, and ye, my little sister, are abundantly rich in both.”
“I put in the white roses for the obvious reason,” said Rose, whose full name, Rhoswen meant “white rose.” “But they are also symbols of respect and innocence.”
“I wanted to put in lilies, pet,” said Lily, “but it is the wrong time of the year, and they don’t dry well, so I completed the trio with red roses instead. I hope your marriage is full of the love and passion they represent.” Mairead blushed. Oddly, she hoped the same thing.
Her mother said, “My sweet, shy child, I added the tiny dried heartsease blossoms for happy thoughts, and thyme for courage. Your brother Flan wanted us to put in some mouse-ear, but I forbade it.”
The women laughed, and Brigid continued more seriously, “What isn’t in the wreath is important too, my love. Ye are not a mouse. Ye are a lovely, gentle young woman, and I am very proud of ye.” She kissed her daughter’s cheeks and placed a sheer lace veil on her head. Annag positioned the wreath on top of the veil to hold it in place.
Her mother smiled warmly at her. “Ye look perfectly lovely, Mairead. Now, before we go to the chapel, here is your bouquet. It contains lavender for luck and devotion, myrtle for everlasting love and marital bliss, sage for long life and domestic virtue, rosemary for remembrance, parsley for happiness, and a little more thyme for courage.”
Mairead looked around the room at her mother, sisters, and sisters-in-law. She loved these women. When they left in a few days, her heart would ache with missing them. Everything she had learned about running a household or being a wife and mother they had taught her. She would carry those skills and their wisdom with her always. These thoughts filled her heart, and she wanted to express them, but though she searched, the only words she could summon were, “Thank ye, for everything.” Their smiles told her they understood.
Just then, her father appeared at the door, dressed in his finest and looking very happy. “They’re ready, love,” he said to his wife. Then he looked across the room at his youngest daughter. He stared as if drinking her in. “Mairead, lass, ye’re breathtaking.”
“Thank ye, Da.”
He walked across the room to her, kissed her cheek, and took her arm. “Well, little one, shall we go?” Her mother and sisters followed them down the stairs.
When they reached the great hall, it was empty except for her sisters’ husbands and all of her brothers but Flan. The room fell silent for a moment when she entered.
Cullen broke the silence first. “Ah, Mairead, sweetling, ye’re a beautiful bride.”
The rest of her brothers heartily agreed. They all hugged her and wished her well. Her mother, too, gave her one last hug and everyone except Annag, who would stand with Mairead, left the hall to join the guests in the courtyard.
Cathal kissed both daughters on the cheek. “Well, my bonny lassies, we have a wedding to get to.” They stepped out of the keep onto the top step and Annag walked ahead of them, the crowd parting for her.
Standing by her father’s side, looking across the crowd of people filling the courtyard, Mairead felt very nervous and a little frightened. She began to tremble. “Da,” she whispered, “I—I…”
Her father took her arm firmly and whispered, “’Tis only a wee short walk we have to take now, sweetling. Are ye ready?”
“Aye, Da, I guess I am as ready as I’ll ever be,” she whispered back but all she really wanted to do was run in the other direction.
Her father chuckled. “Ah, my sweet, wee lass, ye’re a brave MacKenzie, never forget that.”
She nervously scanned the crush of wedding guests in the courtyard. Father Colm stood in front of the chapel. Finally, she found Tadhg. He stood to the priest’s left, beaming and looking directly at her, capturing her gaze. He looked calm and confident and once again her doubts fled.
Cathal escorted Mairead down the steps and through the crowd. When they reached the chapel steps, Fingal MacIan and Flan stood with Tadhg. A grin split Flan’s face from ear to ear. Her little brother’s enthusiasm was infectious, and she grinned back at him.
The ceremony began outside the chapel with Father Colm asking the assembly if anyone knew of any reason Tadhg and Mairead could not be married, but the banns had been posted and the question was met with silence. Then Father Colm asked the bride and groom to assert their will to marry. “Tadhg Matheson, will ye have this woman to thy wedded wife, will ye love her, and honor her, keep her and guard her, in health and in sickness, as a husband should a wife, and forsaking all others on account of her, keep ye only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”
Tadhg answered, “I will,” in a strong, clear voice.
Then it was Mairead’s turn, and she too answered, “I will,” with no hesitation.
“Who gives this woman to be married to this man?”
“I do,” answered Mairead’s father and he turned to her, kissed her cheek, and whispered, “I’m very proud of ye, love.” Then he stepped back and moved Mairead until she stood directly beside Tadhg.
After they had exchanged their vows, Father Colm asked for the ring, and Flan stepped forward, giving it to him. The priest blessed it before passing it to Tadhg, who placed it on the third finger of Mairead’s left hand. “With this ring, I thee wed, in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit.”
Father blessed them and led them into the chapel, followed by Annag, Fingal, Flan, the MacKenzies, the lairds of all of the clans present, and as many of the rest of the assembly as could fit for the nuptial Mass. The chapel doors remained open for the benefit of those who stood in the courtyard. When the Mass was over, Father Colm gave the couple a final blessing, announcing loudly, “Laird Matheson, ye may kiss your bride.”
Tadhg looked into her eyes and kissed her soundly. A deafening cheer went up. His kiss left her breathless and blissfully unaware of the crowd for a moment. When she recovered she blushed, but she couldn’t remember ever being happier.
They led the assembly back into the great hall for the lavish wedding feast. Sweetened wine mulled with spices, honeyed mead, and ale flowed freely. They feasted on roasted goose, partridge and quail, as well as venison and boar. Cabbage, carrots, parsnips, and leeks accompanied the meal, as did platters of cheeses, fresh apples and pears, walnuts, almonds, imported dates, a variety of breads, and preserves of strawberry and red currents. The meal was finished with sweet cakes and tarts.
After everyone had eaten their fill, servants removed the trestle tables so the music and dancing could begin. Mairead loved music, and apparently Tadhg had spared no expense to arrange for a large number of excellent minstrels, who provided music throughout the evening.
Mairead danced with Tadhg first, before her father claimed her for a dance. It was common for the bride to dance with other honored guests, but perhaps knowing this would be challenging for her, Tadhg stayed close. Over the course of the evening, she danced with Lairds Chisholm, Ranald, MacDonnell, MacNicol, Davidson, and MacBain. They were all men with whom she was acquainted, as Hogan MacBain was her brother-in-law and the others were fathers-in-law to her siblings. Laird MacIan asked her for a dance and she tensed. Tadhg looked poised to step in, but somehow just knowing he was there gave her the courage to dance with this huge man whom she had only just met.
When the dance was over, they joined Katherine and Tadhg, who had been watching. Tadhg caught her and to everyone’s delight, gave her a quick kiss.
“Ye are a wonderful dancer,” exclaimed Katherine. “I love watching the Highland dances, but I’m not very skilled at them myself,” she confided.
Laird MacIan slipped his arm around his wife, kissing her cheek. “But there is no one I would rather dance with than ye, my love.” He pulled her laughing and protesting away with him to join the next dance.
Mairead smiled after them, fanning herself with her hands.
Tadhg gave her an appraising look. “It looks as if ye could use a wee break from dancing.”
“Aye, that I could,” she admitted honestly, so he led her off to get a drink before another guest could claim her.
As they walked to the laird’s table, her father, who was well into his cups, called to her. “Mairead, will ye not play an air on the harp for your Da?”
“My harp hasn’t been unpacked yet, Da,” Mairead said, thankful for the excuse.
“Lass, I am sure yon harper would let ye play his,” her father persisted.
Mairead was mortified. “Oh, Da, nay, don’t ask me to perform, not in front of all of these people.”
“Lass, ye’re more talented than any musician here and your new husband has never heard ye play. If not for me, play something for him.”
She turned terror-filled eyes to Tadhg, who just smiled at her and said lightly, “Laird MacKenzie, any other evening I would love to hear Mairead play the harp, but it has been a very long day. I am sure ye will forgive me but right now, I am anxious to escape with my bride.” Before anyone could object, Tadhg whisked her out of the hall.
Six
When they were out of earshot, Mairead whispered, “Thank ye.”
Tadhg laughed. “It was the truth. I
am
anxious to escape with my bride.” He leaned down and gave her a kiss. When she parted her lips, he deepened the kiss, and she gave a little moan of pleasure. Releasing her lips, he smiled at her, took her hand, and continued to lead her to his chamber in the south tower.