Chapter Nine
Her mother led her straight to her chamber with no stopping along the way. Agnes found that peculiar considering she’d been aware of her coming and would have thought there would be a meal prepared in their hall.
“I want you to show me all your lovely gowns and tell me all about this earl of yours.”
“How did you know the queen ordered gowns for me?”
“Your earl included it in his letter to your father.”
“And what else did this letter contain?”
She was curious now. Her mother was behaving in an odd manner, and she had a sneaking suspicion they were up to something.
“I don’t know of anything else,” she said. “Your father only told me about the gowns.”
“You have never been good at telling falsehoods, mother. What else was in the letter?”
Placing her hands on her hips, she said, “I will not reveal what I know as I have been asked not to. And I will obey.”
“Who asked you not to say?”
“The earl. He has made some requests and asked us to remain quiet until such time as he can reveal it all to you when he is ready. Do not press me further, Agnes.”
Her mother’s lips were pressed into a hard line as though it was a struggle to hold in the words she wanted to blurt. She would concede, for William’s sake. For if he had put so much effort into a surprise for her, she would honor it.
“Very well, that chest there is one from the queen,” she said pointing to a chest that had been placed at the foot of her bed.
Her chamber seemed so much smaller now since she’d stayed at Stirling Castle.
This one held all her childish fantasies of endless balls and fancy masques.
Her reality was far more of an adventure than she had ever imagined.
In the end she returned betrothed to a man she—what?
Loved? She wasn’t so sure of that, but she did care for him enough that she could be happy with him.
The whole business had happened so fast she wasn’t sure what love even was. In spite of that down to her toes, she had no hesitation in marrying him.
“Och, this one is lovely, Agnes,” her mother said as she pulled out the deep blue gown she’d worn on the night she met William.
“I have worn that one already which is why ’tis on top of the others. They are all just as beautiful as this one.”
Her mother rummaged through the chest until she pulled out a crimson brocade gown similar in style to the blue.
“Och, this will do quite nicely,” she said quietly.
“Will do for what?”
Her mother jumped as if she’d forgotten Agnes was in her company.
“What? Oh nothing. I was just thinking out loud.”
Her mother placed the gown on her bed and smoothed out the layers. A knock at the door revealed her father’s steward and some of the other manservants carrying their wooden tub and many buckets of steaming water.
“Place it there,” her mother said, pointing to a spot near the fire.
Once the tub was filled and the men gone, her mother helped her out of her gown and into the tub.
She fussed around with various aromatic additions like lavender, some kind of scented milk that made her skin feel smooth, and dried rosehips.
Her mother didn’t often assist her in a bath, but at those times they would talk about all sorts of things.
Agnes was close to both her parents in so many different ways.
“Where did you get all this?”
“Never you mind, child. A mother is allowed to have her own secrets you know.”
She didn’t want to envision her mother having a luxurious bath, but she supposed the woman was entitled to it.
“You haven’t told me about your earl. Beside the fact that you brought home a man with a title, which was never critical, I don’t really know anything about how you feel about him or how he came to be the one to return you to us.”
Agnes hadn’t thought much on it until now. Fin had brought her straight to William when they’d entered the hall. Until now, she thought he was there by coincidence. Interesting.
“I met him before I met the king and queen,” she said. “Their chamberlain escorted me to the feast in the hall and he was just there.”
The more she thought of it, the stranger it was. He’d spoken to Fin about introducing her. Had he anticipated her arrival and if so, why?
“Well, he is a fine-looking man, I will give you that.”
Agnes smiled. He was almost too handsome and seemingly unaware of the many heads that turned when he passed through a crowd.
“But looks aren’t everything. Your father was quite a looker in his younger days, and still is in my eyes.”
“You and father have a special bond.”
“Aye, that we do, but we work at it, Agnes. We don’t always agree on everything.”
She was well aware of that aspect of her parents’ relationship. She’d seen them fall into a horrible row one moment and then her father would pick her mother up and they would disappear into their chamber for hours.
“Agnes, how well do you know him?”
“I know him well enough, as well as anyone knows their betrothed before the wedding.”
“You are not obligated to marry him if you do not wish,” she said as she brushed Agnes’s wet hair.
Agnes leaned back and let the warm water and aromas relax her body.
“I feel no obligation, mother. You do not need to worry about that.”
“And what do you feel?”
“I feel like my tongue freezes whenever he is near. My belly feels like it will fly apart at any moment and my face runs hot.” She had no intention of sharing some more intimate sensations with her mother of all people.
“That, my love, is called attraction, and no money or title can buy it. From that passion and love can grow, and that is all I needed to know.”
Agnes turned to her mother who had tears forming in her eyes. She wrapped her arms around Agnes and said, “My sweet wee lassie, I am so happy for you. He is a good man by your father’s estimation, and I know you will be happy together.”
“Thank you, Mother.”
“Now, let’s get you out of the tub before you catch your death and get you ready for your surprise—I mean ready for the meal we have planned.”
“All is well, Mother. I don’t want to spoil whatever it is either.”
As her hair dried, she enjoyed watching her mother root through a large satchel.
She pulled out one of the silk shifts, brushed the fabric between her thumb and forefinger, and grinned.
“You’ll wear this on your wedding night,” she said and stuffed it back into the satchel.
“No need to tempt either of you until vows are exchanged.”
Agnes’s cheeks burned at the comment, so she kept her head turned to not draw any attention. She did not want to have any conversation about how the fabric aroused her and of the fantasies they evoked.
Her mother pulled out one of Agnes’s finer linen shifts from her old wardrobe and placed it on the bed. Several tugs and ties later, she was fully dressed and ready to discover what William had planned.
Her mother left to change and insisted Agnes wait for her father to escort her below stairs.
Thankfully, the wait was not overly long.
She’d been standing near the window looking out over the sea when he knocked then entered her chamber.
She turned to him and noted his formal dress.
She’d rarely seen her father in anything other than his leine and plaid, but today on top of his leine, he wore a tanned leather tunic with their clan sash across his chest and woolen trews with long boots.
His sword was fastened at his waist, and his hair was tied back.
“Father, you look wonderful,” she said.
He wore a huge smile as he came toward her with his arms outstretched.
“Ahh, my wee sweet lass. You are the most beautiful creature I ever beheld, and I am so very proud of you.”
“Shall we collect Mother and head downstairs?”
“Your mother is already below and waiting for us.”
Her curiosity was on bust. The most logical thought was that he had them prepare a betrothal celebration and perhaps invited some guests from the village. She would know soon enough!
Agnes and her father reached the bottom of the stairs and crossed the inner courtyard toward the hall.
When the doors opened and she stepped inside, she could not believe her eyes. They’d decorated the hall top to bottom in garland and whatever flowers they could find. Tables were adorned with vases full of them and trenchers were laid out for guests. Servants were all in a row and smiling at her.
Her gaze trailed the length of the hall until her breath caught. At the head was William and standing next to him was Father Alasdair.
This was no betrothal celebration. This was her wedding!
*
William’s heart thudded in his chest like a wild buck during rutting season. He knew the moment her eyes grew wide and realization dawned on her what was going on and he prayed she would not oppose.
She and her father advanced toward him and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her.
The dark-crimson gown somehow accentuated her mesmerizing eyes even more than the blue he loved so much, if that was even possible.
Cut straight across her breasts, he could make out their fullness beneath the gown and shifted knowing that in a few short hours, he would need to fantasize no longer.
The next moments were a blur as they exchanged vows and the priest said the words he’d been dying to hear.
“You may kiss your bride.”
William wasted no time. He took her face in his hands and kissed her lightly, well aware of her father standing to her side.
“Do you like your surprise?”
Her smile lifted his heart to soaring.
“Aye, my lord, I do love this surprise.”
“No more of that,” he said trying to sound stern. “You will now refer to me as husband or by my given name, wife.”