Page 52 of Scottish Seducer
Chapter 20
Charlie
Until Stephanie cameinto my life, tradition had never been important to me. Now I was immersed in Jane Austen and her simple world that Stephanie so enjoyed, I realized I missed the colors of my kilt. And modern pants were loose and easy compared to the stiff, starched clothes I’d worn for her events.
Now it was our wedding day.
Tomorrow was the start of the Highland Games, so we made a party out of it.
My brother tucked his phone in his sporran and said, “She’s wearing theluckenbooth.”
I’d given her the brooch months ago because as it was tradition to ensure no “evil eye” befell my bride, and today she wore the gold, engraved with our double hearts, brooch with pride.
I straightened my tartan as we stood with the bagpipers and waited for her to step onto the Wedding Walk to walk up the small cobblestone path to the blacksmith shop doorstep.
I asked Logan, “How do you know?”
“I have a spy in her wedding party.”
My brother had been closemouthed about his life since showing up in Bath. “So, you’re dating Charlotte?”
“Do you think she’d be interested?”
He might be titled and rich, but right now my brother sounded like an insecure teenager. I chuckled when I squeezed his arm and said, “Ask her at the reception to meet you later.”
“Father always warned me to stay away from the British girls.”
Since that didn’t matter anymore, I whispered. “He’s not here.”
The bells announced that my bride was close. Logan tidied my shirt and asked, “This is thesarkyour Stephanie chose for you?”
Sarkwas the word we used for the wedding shirt. I nodded and said, “She didn’t believe it was one of our customs until I had her look it up.”
She not only hadn’t believed me about her needing to buy the shirt, she also didn’t believe that in Scotland the groom brought the wedding dress. I had to show her online that it was the truth.
Logan nodded like he approved and said, “She’s conservative.”
That wasn’t the word for her. But words escaped me totally when Stephanie appeared across the Wedding Walk cobblestone path. My chest swelled with pride that she was mine, forever now, and I grinned. The Vera Wang organza transformed her into a glowing angel. My heart pounded as she approached, though she kept her distance while her best friend Charlotte came to stand next to me. I stayed six feet back and said, “You look so beautiful.”
I wasn’t allowed to touch her for the Wedding March, and the thrill of anticipation was a rare feeling.
She gave me a lovely smile and said, “Thank you,mo leannan. At least you don’t have that superstition about not seeing the bride.”
My heart melted. She’d chosen the term from my list of Scottish endearments that meant “my lover”.
My brother spoke to our guests as I quickly said, “I get to touch you after the ceremony. Did you put the right foot forward first?”
She laughed and said, “Yes, and my sisters washed my feet, I am wearing the sixpence, and my brothers-in-law had fun tossing coins for the wedding scramble.”
I also noticed the sprig of white heather in her peony and lily bouquet. I winked as my brother took her hand. “Ye’realmost Scottish, then.”
She came down the aisle behind me for our wedding walk.
I told Charlotte a bit about Scotland as she walked next to me so she could scout for bad omens. My brother escorted the bride in case we needed to whisk her away from any misfortune that might threaten her during our short walk to the blacksmith.
The piper followed the bride, with our guests behind him.
Once we made it to the doorstep, we stayed outside while friends gathered.
