Chapter Fifteen
AT HOME
We married in the ancient chapel at Laverlaw at dawn on Beltane Sunday.
Hugh looked decidedly uncomfortable in doublet and hose, with no sword at his side and in a place with bad memories of past betrayal.
I had chosen Laverlaw for that reason: the best way to remove a bad memory is to replace it with a better one.
I ensured that there would be no bad memories this time, as our marriage cemented the two surnames of Tweedie and Veitch into a single family.
I tried to get Hugh to drop his name of Veitch in favour of Tweedie, but he refused.
'I have always been Hugh Veitch and Hugh Veitch I will remain,' he said, adding a slow kiss to sweeten his words. I welcomed that kiss and continued it to its natural conclusion with a mad encounter that left us both gasping and in disarray and the bedclothes a rumpled mess.
Afterwards, we toasted ourselves in honey mead and laughter as we adjusted each other's clothing and righted the bed.
'What will the maids say?' Hugh wondered.
'They would be jealous of me,' I said truthfully and failed to stifle my girlish giggle. 'More to the point, what would my mother say?'
'She would say that you are using the Tweedie Passion for its rightful ends,' Mother's voice came from the doorway. I looked up in a mixture of dismay and embarrassment, wondering how much she had heard and, more to the point, how much she had seen.
'Mother!' I smoothed my skirt across my lap and attempted to look innocent.
'It's a bit late for that, Jeannie,' Mother said, although the twinkle in her eye proved she was not displeased. 'I expect you two to produce a dozen grandchildren for me. I only had the one daughter; I want sons and daughters enough to populate both our valleys and some left over.'
'Mother! Please!' I was genuinely scandalised that my mother should say such things.
Hugh, however, was not abashed. 'We will do our best to oblige,' he said, laying his hands on me in a manner that even husbands-to-be should not do in front of their mother-in-law. Or, indeed, in front of anybody else.
I slapped him down, pushing his hands away, trying not to laugh in front of Mother.
'Now that your father has to rebuild Cardrona Tower to my standards after the Armstrongs destroyed it, I need willing hands to help so the quicker you two get producing the better.
' She turned away and spoke over her shoulder.
'It is good to have you in the family, Hugh.
I never had much time for Robert Ferguson; he was and is no match for my Jeannie. '
'You were going to have me marry him, Mother,' I reminded.
'That was family business, Jeannie,' she said. 'I was acting as matriarch of the Tweedies, not as your Mother. Please God, you never have to make the same distinction.'
There were green boughs around Laverlaw Chapel for the wedding, with early laverocks singing high above and all the leading families of both surnames present to witness this historic union that ended a blood feud that had lasted centuries.
I was in a bit of a dream that day, unsure if it was truth or fantasy as I prepared for my wedding.
When Robert Ferguson arrived, I kissed him for the first and last time, and I apologised for ill-treating him so badly that day I discovered him with Kate Hunnam of the Kirkton.
'It does not matter,' Robert told me. 'We are to be married later this year.'
'I am glad of it,' I told him, and I meant it. Now that our respective matrimonial disputes were resolved I had no quarrel with Robert. 'I wish both of you all the happiness in the world,' I said.
'As I do to you,' he responded at once, with the generosity that was typical of him, although he was more prone to show it to horses rather than to people.
After the kiss, I shook his hand and gave Kate a slight nod.
That was all I would spare for the woman who had been a friend and who had betrayed me.
What we had once was now spoiled and would never return.
We both accepted that without another word being uttered.
I wished I had taken the opportunity to lay the whip across her flesh when I had the chance: that was my only regret.
I think that I have wasted sufficient words on Kate Hunnam and I will move on to happier things than those concerning that woman.
Naturally, my father posted half a dozen riders around the chapel to ensure that nobody took advantage of the peaceful nature of the wedding.
Perhaps they did their job well or maybe word had got out that the combined Tweedie-Veitch surname would brook no interference; either way we were left alone.
After defeating the Armstrongs there were few surnames who would care to beard us in our own land.
Indeed, we were now one of the more respected names on the Border.
We brought in the minister from Peebles to perform the ceremony, and while he was there we sang doleful psalms to celebrate our union.
The Reverent Romanes was a broad-shouldered man with an eye for the ladies, yet his attention did not stray for an instant when he was surrounded by the hard-riding Tweedies and Veitches.
'Are you sure you wish to go ahead with this marriage?' my father asked me.
I nodded. 'I have never been more sure in my life,' I said.
He gave a small smile that hid huge amusement. 'I remember you being equally sure you wished to marry Robert Ferguson.'
'I was younger then,' I told him solemnly.
'You were,' Father said. 'That was all of eight months ago. Will you become a Veitch? There was some worry in his voice.
'I will not,' I said. 'I was born Jean Tweedie and I will die Jean Tweedie.' That is a thing we do in Scotland: in other places, when a woman marries, she loses her surname; in Scotland, she keeps her own name and fortune. I am still Jean Tweedie, although now my husband is Hugh Veitch.
I wore a fine light-blue gown that had belonged to my mother, with a circlet of flowers to lighten my black hair and shoes so tight they damn nearly crippled me.
I kicked them off at the first opportunity, I can tell you.
Fashion is all very well but not when it interferes with comfort.
I am mistress of a Border surname, not some pampered and powdered lady from an Edinburgh townhouse.
I have not seen these shoes since so I suppose that some lucky young girl saw them on the floor and appropriated them for her own wedding at some distant time in the future.
Either that or Robert took them to re-use the leather for his horses.
Certainly, they would not fit Kate, as her feet are as large as her desires for men.
Poor Robert: I hope his love for horses compensates for his wife's love of playing the two-backed beast around the Borders.
I do not interfere: it is none of my business.
Father was watching with an indulgent smile on his face. I stepped over to him and whispered in his ear. 'I have been holding this for you.' I slipped his ring inside his fist. 'You must have lost it when you pushed Robert's brother over Posso Craig.'
Father took the ring without demur. 'It was the best way to get your mother to accept him as your husband,' he said.
'Thank you, Father.' I kissed him and returned to Hugh. As I have said before, murder was acceptable in the old Border, as long as it was for a good reason.
'I hope you are both very happy together.' The Reverend Romanes glanced around at the growing clamour as Father introduced mead and French claret to the crowd.
'We will be,' Hugh said. He held out his hand. 'Thank you for your services, Minister.'
The Reverend Romanes took the hand somewhat gingerly. 'You are part of my flock,' he said.
'If you ever need a favour, Minister,' Hugh said, 'you let me know. A rival church burned, a sinner killed, anything like that, I am your man.'
I swear I saw a twinkle in the good Reverend's eye.
There was a man there, beneath the solemnity.
I wondered viciously if Kate had noticed.
If so, she would have the ministerial robes off him quicker than he could say grace.
'I don't believe I will require either of these services,' the Reverend said.
After the minister returned to care for the spiritual wellbeing of his more restrained parishioners, no doubt thankful to have survived intact among us wild men and women of the valleys, we began the real festivities.
The ale, mead, and wine flowed free as a pair of Border pipers arrived to add their music.
I saw my half-brother dancing with Kate and wished him well.
I knew that Robert would be in the stables with his horses and did not interfere.
They say that the partying lasted two weeks and that may well be true.
I cannot tell, for after only twelve hours of dancing and general laughter, Hugh took me by the hand and led me upstairs to our chamber.
I felt my mother's eyes following me and wriggled my hips to her, waved a hand behind my back and climbed the turnpike to prove yet again that I had my full measure of the Tweedie Passion.
I knew I would have many hundreds of occasions to test that in the years ahead, and with the man I would choose above all others.
But at night, when the moon is full and a wind stirs the branches in the trees, I sometimes start awake and think of that night on the Nine Stane Rig, when Hugh first awakened the Tweedie Passion within me.
And then I roll over, reach for him in the dark and prove that it has not gone away.
It never shall; not between me and my man, my Hugh Veitch of Roberton.