CHAPTER 33
Margaret expected grumbling from the servants over being given so little time to prepare a feast, especially for a marriage they believed had already taken place.
But it turned out that the prospect of a wedding feast was a welcome respite from the dark cloud that had hung over Helmsdale since the tragedies struck.
The entire household embraced the idea of a wedding celebration and threw themselves into a frenzy of preparation. Men set up tables and carried wine and ale up from the undercroft, women helped in the kitchen, and children ran outside to gather flowers.
Laughing, the women pushed Margaret out of the kitchen.
“But there’s so much to do,” she objected.
“And all our hard work will be for naught if the bride isn’t ready,” Una said. “A hot bath is waiting for ye. And Ella could use a washing as well before the wedding.”
Margaret gave in after she looked at Ella, who had stuck both hands in the pan of pudding that was cooling on the worktable and gotten more in her hair and on her face than in her mouth. Margaret sighed. At least pudding was easy to wash off.
After she and Ella had bathed, Margaret dressed Ella in a gown she had made and tied a ribbon in her hair. One of the gowns Helen had given her was too fine for every day, so she had never worn it. She ran her hand over it, thinking of Helen’s kindness. It would serve well for her wedding gown.
“’Tis as if Lady Helen knew,” Una said as she fastened the back. “The color blue is a lucky color for a bride, and the gown fits perfectly, another sign of good fortune.”
One of the children brought sprigs of white heather for Margaret’s hair, another symbol of good luck. Hope bubbled up inside her as she pinned the heather in her hair. Unlike her first one, this marriage would be a happy one.
If she had not suffered through that marriage, and if Wretched William had never thrown her out, she would not be here today, marrying the man she loved. The man she was always meant to be with.
Una held the looking glass up for Margaret to see herself. Her eyes sparkled with happiness. When she turned to smile at Ella, her daughter was watching her with big eyes. Though Margaret had worn gorgeous gowns countless times, her daughter had never seen her dressed like this.
“I want to be pretty too,” Ella said.
“You are pretty.” Margaret leaned down and stuck a sprig of the white heather in Ella’s hair. “More than that, you’re clever and kind and brave. You’re the daughter I always wanted.”
Someone pounded on the door, followed by giggles and a shout: “Everyone’s waiting for the bride!”
Margaret touched the onyx brooch pinned to her bodice and closed her eyes for just a moment, wishing her sisters and cousin Lizzie could be here to see how happy she was. Then she took her daughter’s hand and practically skipped out the door.
Her heart squeezed in her chest when she saw Finn.
He was so darkly handsome in his plaid, and his eyes went soft when he saw her.
Since everyone thought they were already handfasted, they could have made their pledges to each other in private and only received the priest’s blessing before the witnesses here in the hall.
When Finn wrapped the symbolic strip of linen around their hands, pressed palm to palm, and made his pledge, she knew he was right to insist they do it this way.
She wanted to shout that, against all odds, they had found each other. They took a lie and made it their truth. Transformed a kidnap and escape into redemption and refuge. Exchanged fear and mistrust for hope and love.
When she made her own pledge, she said her full name, Margaret Elizabeth Douglas, softly so that only she and Finn could hear it.
Ella was with Una at the front of the people that surrounded them.
“Come,” Finn said, holding his arms out to her.
When Ella ran to him, he picked her up, kissed her on the cheek, and then lifted her up high for everyone in the hall to see.
“I claim this child as my own and give her my name,” Finn said in a voice that filled the room.
Margaret had not thought it possible Finn could make her any happier, but now he had.
Tears of joy filled her eyes. While she knew Finn loved Ella, Margaret had not expected he would formally claim her.
When a Highlander claimed a child, that child had the same status and rights as any he sired within a marriage.
Ella would not grow up as his stepchild from an unknown clan, never fully belonging.
“As my only child,” Finn continued, “this wee lass, my daughter Ella, is my heir unless and until my wife blesses me with a son.”
A shiver of fear went through Margaret. She understood now why Finn insisted their marriage take place this very day, why he made sure a priest blessed it, why he publicly claimed Ella—and for good measure, named Ella as his heir.
It was this last, seemingly unnecessary proclamation that gave him away.
As his wife, Margaret could not inherit Garty.
But his child could.
Finn had just ensured that Margaret and Ella would have a home if he should not return. She hid her worry, as she had so many times, and cheered with the rest.
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Finn carried his wife over the threshold of their bedchamber and kicked the door shut, muffling the noise of the revelers still celebrating in the hall. When he set her on her feet, Margaret looked up at him with soft brown eyes and held his face between her hands.
“I love you, husband,” she said. “I always will.”
Finn swallowed against the surge of emotion clogging his throat.
Plenty of women had enjoyed his company for a laugh and a good swiving, but he never expected to be wanted for more.
Never expected to be loved. And to be loved by this sweet lass who held his heart in her hands was a blessing beyond measure.
He did not deserve Margaret’s love, but she gave it to him anyway.
“I can’t believe you’re truly my wife,” he said. “You’ve made me a happy man.”
As he had on the first night they shared a bed, he combed her hair, letting the long, bright strands glide through his fingers. He almost wept when he undressed her and saw all her scratches and bruises from the fall.
When her hair turned white and her face was lined, she would still be beautiful, for her true beauty came from inside. He prayed he would have the chance to grow old with her. But if he did not, he would count himself a lucky man, for he had been loved by this sweet lass, his Maggie.
He made love to her slowly, careful of her injuries. Over and over, he told her how much he loved her and tried to show her with his every touch how precious she was to him.
When she drifted off to sleep in his arms, a soft smile curving her lips, he left the candle burning until it was gone just so he could watch her.
He stayed awake, savoring these last brief hours with his wife in his arms. Careful not to wake her, he ran his fingers through her hair and breathed in her scent.
He did not think it possible he could fall more deeply in love with her, but his very heart beat for this lass.
His love, his wife.
In the morning, he made love to her one last time, trying not to let her see the desperation he felt at having to leave her. But he had to go. The lives of the men trapped in Dornoch, good men who had helped rescue Alex, depended on him.
They ate breakfast with Ella, but he could not delay his departure any longer. The priest was already mounted and waiting at the gate.
“Lachlan will be home soon,” he told Una, who had come out into the courtyard with Margaret and Ella to see him off.
He lifted Ella up and tossed her into the air to hear her laugh, then he kissed her cheek and set her down. Finally, he enveloped Margaret in his arms and held her close. After one last kiss, he leaned back to drink in her lovely face once more.
“Time for me to go, a chuisle mo chroí,” pulse of my heart. “With luck, I’ll be back by nightfall.”
“I need ye to come back,” Margaret said, her voice quavering, “so see that ye do.”
He would be lost without her, but he was confident that if he did not return, Margaret would persevere through her sadness and loss. Her gentle nature and graceful form hid a strength that would carry her through.
Garty held none of the bad memories for her that it did for him. She would have her independence and, in time, could have a happy life there with Ella. Word might eventually reach her brothers, but the Gordons would watch over her. Alex would make certain they did.