Chapter 28
When Emma opened her eyes the next morning, the air felt different.
Lara had hurried through her duties with a bigger smile on her face than usual and spoke louder. Emma should have guessed that something was off by then, but she chalked it up to morning excitement. Perhaps this was just one of those days.
It was a whole different story when she stepped out of her chambers.
The corridor was bustling, as if the whole castle had woken up at once. Emma moved ahead, watching maids pass by with smiles on their faces as well. Their smiles even turned to greetings, but before she could form a response, they lowered their heads and hurried past.
When the Great Hall came into view, she stepped aside for two maids carrying a tray of polished silver. The air smelled of beeswax and fresh bread, and another maid with a basket of flowers nearly bumped into her.
“Apologies, me Lady,” the maid offered, her voice faint.
“Wait, what is all this for?” Emma asked, looking around.
The maid bobbed a quick curtsy. “I beg yer pardon, me Lady, but I must hurry.” She hurried off with the basket clutched under her chin.
Emma followed the voices into the Great Hall and stopped short at the scene that greeted her.
Her mother and Catriona stood at the center of the hall, sending maids to and fro. Garlands climbed the pillars, and the long tables were set with greenery and empty bowls. Ava sat cross-legged on the floor, the baby on her lap and a string of petals in her hand.
It looked like a festival, and no one had yet told her why.
Her eyes widened as realization dawned on her.
Nay. Nay, nay, nay, nay, nay.
She raised her voice as she drew closer. “What in heaven’s name is happening here?”
A deep voice answered behind her, “I thought there was nay reason to wait. We’re getting married tomorrow, so they are making preparations.”
She turned around. “Tomorrow?”
Jack stood in the doorway, his coat open, his grin wide and unashamed. “Aye. Daenae tell me ye’ll run again.”
“Ye daenae think tomorrow is a bit too early?”
“The earlier we proceed with the wedding, the better. If ye want, we can just cancel it and—”
“Nay. Of course, I daenae want that,” she interrupted, struggling to swallow past the lump in her throat.
She could feel Ava looking at her from a few yards away and swallowed again.
“Emma,” Jack began, reaching for her hands. She let him take them, exhaling loudly. “This is a very important day for both of us. If ye have any reservations, ye must ken that I willnae hesitate to listen to ye.”
Her mouth opened, closed, then opened again. “Nay, I daenae have any reservations.”
Her eyes flicked to Ava again, who was watching them intently while letting the baby play with her hair.
“So ye have nay problem with the wedding taking place?”
“Nae in the slightest. It is just… I daenae ken what to wear.”
“I think I might be able to help ye with that,” Ava interjected, just as Jack opened his mouth to speak.
Emma furrowed her brow at those words.
Ava rose to her feet, with the baby on her hip, and laughed. “Uncle sent a dress with the gifts. ‘Tis lovely, Emma. Ye’ll look perfect in it.”
Emma blinked. “Ye kept that secret.”
Ava shrugged. “Catriona said to wait for the right moment.”
“Catriona kent about the dress before me?”
Ava opened her mouth to respond, but at that moment, Catriona clapped her hands once. “Daenae stand there gawking, people. Guests will be at the gates before noon. We have work to do.”
Emma watched the older woman fix her son with a look that held more fondness than anything. “If ye still want this, mind ye.”
Jack smiled. “I do.”
Emma swallowed. This was happening too fast. For the love of God, she only just woke up a few hours ago.
She turned to her mother, hoping she shared the sentiment. Olivia’s face softened in a way that made Emma both warm and uneasy at the same time.
“Ma,” she muttered under her breath, the nervousness in her voice more evident than the bustle around her.
Olivia moved closer to her and squeezed her hand. “Breathe, love.”
The chaos in the Great Hall resumed as servants carried candlesticks toward the fireplace. Ava handed the baby to Emma, meaning to attend to some other tasks.
Emma stood in the center of the hall, the confusion on her face clear as day. A maid hurried past with ribbons tangled around her wrist and muttered an apology when one whipped her sleeve. Emma gave her a quick nod and watched her go.
Then, the sound of a carriage rolling into the courtyard reached her ears and caused her heart to skip a beat.
The first guest arrives.
She cleared her throat. “So, this is settled.”
Jack moved closer. “Aye.”
“I suppose there is nothing to do but prepare.”
He tilted his head, his gaze steady. “Emma, ye will tell me when this all becomes too much, will ye nae?”
She felt heat rise in her cheeks and looked down at the baby to hide it. “Aye, I will.”
Catriona slid between them, brisk again. “Emma, the dress is in yer chamber. I have asked Lara to press it. ‘Tis quite a lovely dress, if I might say so. Yer uncle has great taste.”
Emma felt her tongue burn. If the dress was truly as great as Catriona said, then Ava must have chosen it. Her uncle wouldn’t know what a good dress was, even if it slapped him across the face.
Of course, she didn’t voice that thought. Instead, she smiled and gave a nod.
“Aye, thank ye,” she said.
“And ye.” Catriona turned to Jack. “Go meet the steward. If I see a crooked table, I’ll blame ye.”
Jack laughed, then brushed the back of his hand over Stella’s curls. The child looked at him and fell quiet.
“I’ll be back soon,” he said to Emma, and was gone just as soon as he had come.
By mid-afternoon, the hall had become lively. Voices rose and fell from all corners as the first guests came in with damp cloaks and open smiles. Jack’s old friend from the north clapped him on the shoulder and declared that MacLeod’s hospitality had grown softer since the last winter raid.
“If I didnae ken better, I would have said there was life in this castle once again.”
Emma watched Jack narrow his eyes. “I wouldnae hesitate to throw ye across the border if ye say that again, Jamie.”
A hearty laugh escaped the man’s lips, and Emma watched Jack smile in response.
Oh, it was a joke.
Her uncle arrived just an hour or two after, with her younger sister close behind, both talking at once.
“Uncle,” Emma greeted, rushing forward.
“Ava told me about the five-day deal,” Laird MacFinn said, jerking his head toward the other guests. “I have been on the road since. Thought I could either be coming for the wedding or to bring ye and yer maither back home.”
“Ye prepared for all the scenarios, did ye nae?”
“Aye, I did.”
Emma laughed and watched her uncle gently play with the baby on her hip. Stella kicked her little legs and laughed in response.
The hall felt warmer than it should have, and for the first time, Emma decided that this couldn’t possibly be as bad a choice as she was making it out to be.
Another carriage rattled in later that afternoon.
Emma shifted Stella to her shoulder and went to the door with Ava.
A dignified couple stepped down, both in travel cloaks.
Grey strands peeked from beneath the man’s hood, and his eyes looked sharp and tired.
The woman, on the other hand, stood straight and seemed to try to plaster on a smile, but failed.
“Welcome,” Emma greeted. “Ye must be looking for the Laird.”
The man bowed stiffly. “Ye must be the future Lady MacLeod.”
“So they tell me,” Emma said with a small smile.
The woman leaned forward, her lips curling into a genuine smile as she reached out to touch Stella’s tiny hands. Emma took a step back, the wariness on her face clear. The woman noticed and straightened immediately.
“Apologies. We are just not comfortable letting the bairn play with strangers.”
“Strangers, ye say?” the man scoffed.
“Ye must forgive me because I must ask who ye are. Are ye also friends of the Laird?”
“Friends is far too informal. I would say the best way to describe us is that we once lost a daughter to this castle.”
“Arthur!” the woman hissed, gently elbowing him.
Emma’s eyes darted between them, the confusion on her face still clear. “Then perhaps ye should have sent a letter instead of coming to visit? Would that nae have been the safer option?”
The woman’s hand flew to her mouth, and the man’s eyebrows shot up. “Bold words for a bride.”
Emma’s grip tightened on the baby. “Bold but true if the castle brought ye sorrow. Ye have yet to tell me who ye are.”
The man narrowed his eyes at her.
“Emma,” Jack’s voice called, a bit too high-pitched than usual. “There ye are.”
Emma watched him move closer to them before he rested a hand on her shoulder.
“Emma, allow me to present Arthur and Fiona Johnson, Moira’s parents.”
Emma’s stomach dropped.
“We are also the bairn’s grandparents,” Fiona added, her smile nothing short of vindictive.
Emma swallowed, turning to Ava, who also had the same shocked look on her face.
A stunned silence fell over them before she eventually resorted to damage control and bobbed a quick curtsy. “Then I owe ye an apology for speaking so bluntly.”
Arthur looked at her for a long moment, then laughed—a deep, clear sound that eased the tension in the air. “Nay need, lass. It’s about time someone spoke bluntly in this family.”
Fiona reached for the child with trembling hands. Stella peered at her, then at Arthur, then buried her face in Emma’s neck. Emma gently patted the child’s back before gently passing her into Fiona’s arms.
“There now,” she said. “She’s only shy because the hall is loud.”
Fiona blinked hard and kissed the baby’s hair. “She looks well.”
“Aye,” Jack agreed quietly. “She is well.”
A footman approached to ask about the rooms. Catriona came to welcome them and sent a maid to prepare washbasins.
The couple headed toward the nursery with slow steps. At the threshold, Arthur stopped and looked back at Emma.