"I am come to fetch you."
The voice was too singsong in Bridgid's ear and she groaned, pulling the covers over her head. She had passed the previous night between fits of crying and pounding on her pillow in a rage.
After her mother tried once to assuage the tidal wave of emotions eliciting none-too-quietly from her daughter's bed, she had given up, content in the knowledge that only one more night, restless though it may be, stood between herself and privacy, herself and all of the honor and privileges of being the mother of Lady Sinclair. Would it, then, matter that her daughter had pitched an adult-sized tantrum until the very moment the vows were solemnized? She certainly hoped not.
Just then the makeshift screen that served to provide some privacy for Bridgid from her mother's bed was pulled back. Gillian Buchanan peered down at her friend's familiar form enshrouded under blankets and she laughed, pulling down the blankets her best friend was clinging to a little too desperately. The surprise that showed on Bridgid's face did nothing to alter the evidence of the night before. Gillian saw her puffy eyes and blotchy complexion and sat down on the bed next to her.
"You seem, somehow, reluctant, friend," Gillian said, barely containing her mirth, "as the condemned to the executioner. Come now and tell me it is not all that bad."
Bridgid sniffed a little too dramatically as she sat up. "What brings you here?"
"You, silly. 'Tis your wedding day, unless I have been ill-informed. Certainly all of your guests that are only now arriving will find their efforts an extreme waste of their time and energies were they to have journeyed for naught. You know me. I would use any excuse to visit you." She nudged her friend playfully.
"And, so it is," Bridgid barely acknowledged.
"What is this," Gillian said as she picked up Bridgid's face and examined it. "Can this be fear of the wedding night? I know you above anyone cannot be suffering from bridal nerves. For that is reserved for those poor women who do not know their husbands, whose husbands are cruel or old or unsightly to look upon. But, not you. You have been in love with Ramsey for how long? Your whole life?"
"You would not understand," Bridgid answered meekly.
"No? Think you I ran to the altar to marry Brodick? If you'll recall, he tricked me and the priest. Oh, and I was sitting on a horse at the time."
"Ramsey tricked me, too. And the priest only abets him. I think he has learned well from your husband."
Gillian smiled at this. "'Tis too early to judge if they are a bad influence upon each other or a good one."
"But, Ramsey has claimed – falsely – that I have been compromised by him. The priest seeks merely to correct it. In his eyes, I was well and goodly married when I merely lay next to Ramsey on our return journey from England. Can there be anything more absurd?"
"No. I cede you the point, there. Why many is the woman who would be considered a camp follower if the Church were so stringent."
"'Tis exactly what I said," Bridgid bemoaned. "But, Ramsey will have his way. The priest will see to that."
"And would that be so awful? I think you protest not the man but the manner."
Bridgid had no good answer for this.
"In fact, you seem to battle not your heart but your head. Would you forsake the man you love because it was not done your way. Think you the right to require it? Look at Judith and me. We are well and goodly married to the men we love though fairly ambushed in the doing. Yet, we are happy, blissfully so. Come now," Gillian found Bridgid's hands and grasped them warmly, "for if you continue like this, puss, you will be getting far more than you deserve on this day."
Ian and Judith Maitland arrived with their children and Ramsey's brother Michael shortly before midday. Ramsey completely forgot that his much younger brother did not know him very well and was even frightened of him at times and he picked him up warmly, hugging him to himself and proclaiming how he had missed him. The boy studied him askance, wondering at his behavior. But, Ramsey merely chuckled at his reticence and sent him off to play with the rest of the children.
"'Tis about time you married," Judith said, admonishing her husband's former soldier with the forthrightness he had come to expect from her.
"Aye, Judith, you are right. But, 'tis you I have to blame for it," Ramsey replied good-naturedly.
"Is that right," she replied as they walked into the keep.
"All these years I searched for a woman like you. I thought the English had some claim on loveliness when I only had to open my eyes to see it right in front of my face."
"Ah, 'tis true," Ian said, slapping a heavy hand on his shoulder, "our Highland lasses nearly outshine them all. Speaking of, when do we get to meet your bride?"
They entered the great hall now freshly clean and whitewashed. The sprays of color were of newly cut flowers loosely braided together and hanging down the walls or gathered in vases down the long table or adorning the mantle, the dew was still on them and the smell was vibrant, heady. The women who had worked had spared no efforts.
Brodick joined them. "Yes, where is the girl?"
"She comes late to her eagerness," Ramsey replied. "I would that she could be hurried along." Turning to Judith. "She tarries in her cottage. Gillian was sent to her but seems to be floundering in her efforts. In truth, who knows what the two of them are up to."
"Indeed. Those two together are more mischievous than purposeful," Brodick said.
"Then they are well-matched to their husbands," Judith said to much laughter.
"I cannot argue the point. But, would you see to their delay, Judith? I am unaccountably anxious. The girl has a habit of skirting my plans of late. I would see today unblemished by her machinations."
"You paint her devious," Ian said. "Then she is, indeed, well-matched to you." More laughter.
"I would allay your concerns, Ramsey," Judith said. "The girl will come."
Moments later Judith left with a woman sent to show her the way to Bridgid's cottage; they carried food and wine to smooth the way.
Ramsey, Brodick, and Ian sat as servants filled goblets and placed trenchers of steaming food before them. They devoured as they talked.
"So, the girl 'comes late to her eagerness'," Brodick mocked as he put a piece of venison in his mouth.
Ramsey smiled at his friend's ribbing. "Aye. But, you know very well she is stubborn, that one, when set upon something."
"Aye, I do," Brodick fairly choked on his food as he fought his laughter. "The scene at Baron Chapman's was but a taste?"
"Aye," Ramsey rolled his eyes, incensed at the reminder.
"What scene? Who is Baron Chapman," Ian asked.
"Gillian's uncle," Brodick answered. "The women were reinforced against our intentions when we arrived there." Brodick recounted what had happened at Baron Chapman's when he and Ramsey went to collect Gillian and Bridgid, including the fact that Bridgid had decided to remain in England.
Ian was incredulous. "And how did you persuade her," he finally asked.
"Simple. I proposed."
"Not so simple, I warrant," Brodick said. "After all, she is not here. She lingers far away from you. I have never known a woman to do that."
"She is miffed at me, that is all. She thinks me heavy-handed."
Ian and Brodick stared at Ramsey as they chewed, simpleton grins on their faces, waiting for him to continue.
"Let it suffice to say that she took more persuading than honesty allows."
Brodick could barely contain his food as he guffawed. "Tell me, please, though I can hardly take much more of this." He was thoroughly enjoying his friend's difficulties, as it was a first for Ramsey to fair so poorly in wooing any woman.
Ramsey exhaled slowly. "She could not be persuaded to the match on the journey home from England, though my attempts were earnest. I know she loves me and 'tis a love match she seeks, so I do not break my father's solemn pledge to her father, which is important to me. But, she protests that I merely seek to solve a problem, that I merely want to bed her."
"Those are reason enough," Brodick interrupted, nodding at his own assertion.
"Of course, but she would not be swayed by them."
"Marriages in the Highlands are built on less," Ian added, always practical.
"I said as much," Ramsey replied, "but she is stubborn to a fault. I am almost ashamed to admit, I used duplicity." He looked at Brodick, knowing this was a man who would appreciate duplicity. He was not wrong as Brodick was again grinning like a simpleton. Ramsey continued. "I pled in a confession that I had dishonored Bridgid on our return from England, that I slept with her."
"Did you," Ian asked.
"Did I dishonor her or did I sleep with her?"
Brodick and Ian exchanged knowing glances.
"The priest abets me, even now."
Brodick choked down the remainder of his wine, asking, "Does he know?"
"What do you think," Ramsey asked.
Brodick and Ian merely smiled and shook their heads, impressed. Ramsey always got his woman.