Chapter 27
It was half past eleven the next morning, when Fingal came running around the side of the barn and found Robert mounted on his horse, preparing to go into the fields.
“The clergyman is here!” Fingal called out as he ran the distance to where Robert stopped to wait for him.
“Donald McDonald is here? Now?”
“Aye, ’tis him in the flesh…come with his prayer book, he did. Said he was ready to perform a wedding.”
Robert dismounted. “Take my horse,” he said, and handed Fingal the reins.
Five minutes after he walked through the door, Robert had everyone running in a dozen directions. The servants were rushing to the kitchen to prepare food, while the members of the family all made a dash to change into appropriate clothes. Robert stopped by to have a word with Donald, then went to find Meleri.
Fingal was waiting for Robert with a bouquet of flowers.
“I picked these for you to give to your lady.”
Robert thanked Fingal and took the flowers up to her room.
“Donald McDonald has come to perform our wedding,” Robert said after she admitted him into her room. “He is waiting in the chapel.” He offered her the flowers. “Fingal picked these for you.”
Meleri did not take the flowers. “You waited long enough.”
“Aye, I did, and I am sorry I did, but I will make it up to you, lass.”
She turned around and began sorting through some fabric she had lying on the bed. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Aye, lass, it does matter. I would not have us start our wedding with your lips in a pucker.”
Clutching the fabric to her middle, she turned to face him. “It does not matter, because we won’t be getting married today.”
“Is there a reason?”
“I always have a reason for everything I do.” Meleri looked down at the bouquet of yellow-and-white daffodils he had placed on the desk. It didn’t seem fair. Two days ago, she would have leaped into Robert’s arms if he told her Donald McDonald was here. But that was before Philip had arrived. Meleri was afraid, not only for Robert, but for the rest of the family, as well. She thought about what could happen if she married Robert and Philip found out.
It did not take her long to realize Philip would not hesitate to kill Robert, in order to have her, even as a widow. Marry him and you put his life in jeopardy, she reminded herself. As long as she remained single, the only threat was to her, since she was the one Philip wanted. “Tell him to leave. This isn’t the right day for me to get married.”
“Pity, because it’s exactly the day I want for my wedding.” He picked up the bouquet from the desk and swept her up into his arms and carried her from the room and down the hall.
“In about two seconds I am going to embarrass you,” she said. “Take me back this instant.”
“I can’t do any physical labor today.”
“Why not?”
“It’s my wedding day.”
“Interesting, because it isn’t my wedding day.”
“Aye, lass, it is.”
“You can’t force me. I won’t marry you.”
“Ah, but you are wrong on that one, lass.”
“I would like to see you try forcing me.”
“You will, in about three minutes.” He carried her down the stairs.
“Why are you doing this? It won’t work. When he asks me if I want to marry you, I will say no.”
“When he gets to that part, you may say anything you like.”
“From this moment on, I will not say one word. You cannot marry someone who will not talk, who will not answer, and I am not going to answer. Nothing, not one word will I utter.”
“I have prayed for the day.”
He carried her through the gallery and down the hall. She could see everyone was gathered there: Iain, Lady Margaret, Agnes, Hugh, the twins and all the servants, and a man, who must be Donald McDonald, wearing the proper vestments and holding a prayer book. They were all staring as if they had never seen her before.
Robert dropped her to her feet in front of Donald McDonald and shoved the bouquet into her hands, while the priest began with the usual matrimonial preliminaries, which she did not listen to. Instead, she clutched the bouquet against her and maintained her vow of silence.
She stood stiffly, listening to Donald McDonald, not understanding a word he spoke. What in God’s name was he saying? She had never heard such gibberish. Was this Robert’s idea of a joke? She cast a furtive look toward him. He looked serious enough, and she decided this was for real. If it was real, why wasn’t this minister speaking English?
He must be speaking Gaelic.
She frowned, trying to reason why he should be performing the wedding in that tongue. It must have been for the Scots present, or perhaps it was some sort of old Douglas tradition. Perhaps the first earl had married in a Gaelic ceremony. Well, in a moment, she thought, he will get to the English part, and then I will not say a word.
She was still waiting for her shining moment, when she could remain silent in front of all and sundry, when Robert’s arms came around her. He pulled her against him and kissed her soundly.
Those gathered in the hall began to clap and cheer, and great waves of embarrassment rippled across her. She had never known anyone to kiss so long when they were just married.
Married?
Meleri put her foot on top of Robert’s and pressed hard. He kissed her more firmly and with more passion.
She was about to haul off and kick him, when he released her. Before she could say anything, everyone began to crowd around them, offering congratulations, slapping Robert on the back.
She was still reeling when Agnes rushed up and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Oh, milady, this is such a happy day, which is precisely what a wedding day should be. Aren’t you happy to have such a fine husband? How does it feel to be Lady Douglas?”
Lady Douglas? Meleri stared at Agnes, stunned.
“Close your mouth, sweetheart, or something might fly in it,” Robert whispered.
Meleri was about to shout to the top of her lungs that there had been a grave mistake made, when Donald McDonald came up and kissed her on the cheek then shook Robert’s hand. She held the bouquet up to cover her face and whispered to Robert, “I want to talk to you,” through gritted teeth.
“I am sure you do, wife.”
It was a good half hour before Meleri could get him away from the celebration going on in the great hall and into the library. At last, she managed to drag him away, and as soon as they were in the library, she shut the door. “I want to know what is going on here.”
“We were just married. I thought you knew that.”
She stomped her foot. “We were not married, you bloody idiot! He never asked me if I agreed to this marriage.”
“Yes, he did.”
“He did not! How could he? He never spoke a word of English.”
“Well, I can explain that.”
“Please do. I want to understand how you could be so mistaken as to think that gibberish spoken in there constituted a marriage ceremony.”
“I told him it was all right to speak Gaelic.”
“How could he agree when he obviously knew I don’t understand it?”
“I explained it to him.”
“What do you mean you explained it? You explained what? That I do not speak Gaelic?”
“No, I explained to him that you were out riding and a tree branch hit you in the throat, and you have not been able to speak for several days.”
“Of all the…You tricked me, you bloody bastard! I’m surprised you didn’t tell him I was a deaf mute!”
“I thought about it.”
She threw her bouquet at him and it went hurling through the air, end over end, swifter than bullets thrown from Spanish slings.
He ducked and crossed the room in three short strides. His arms went around her. “Aye, I tricked you and gave us both what we want.”
“Balderdash! You have no idea what I want, and if you did, you wouldn’t give it to me because I am English.”
“Aye, lass, I do know what you want, but even if I did not, it wouldn’t matter. I have ways of finding out.”