Page 27 of A Highland Bride Taken
She nodded and rubbed her sweaty palms on her skirts.
The reality she had resigned herself to had hit her as soon as the wedding preparations started.
She would be more than the godmother of the bairns, but the lady of the clan as well, and she would have to prove herself to her new people, who would no doubt appreciate their new lady’s avoidance of conversation.
She suddenly wished for her sisters, but considering how quickly the wedding was arranged, there had been no time to return to fetch Skylar, and with Scarlett newly wed, they didn’t want to intrude.
Scarlett’s wisdom and Skylar’s reassurance would have eased her nerves, but her mother’s teary compliments would have to suffice to keep her knees from buckling as she walked down the aisle to the altar.
She spared a glance in the mirror again, taking a steadying breath. She hoped her appearance would at least please her soon-to-be husband.
She had barely seen him since they had shared that kiss in her chambers, as he had been busy with his own preparations for the wedding. She had hoped to put the kiss behind her as casually as he had left her chambers, but even as she had been preoccupied, she had been unable to keep him out of her mind.
Even now, her cheeks flushed as she remembered just how ferociously he had claimed her mouth. It had been entirely scandalous and had left her desiring things she couldn’t say out loud, for propriety’s sake.
Mabel couldn’t help but wonder if he would claim her lips as he had, or if he would kiss her chastely. She bit her lip until her mother nudged her to cease the action. She had forgotten she wasn’t alone.
“Shall we leave?” she asked.
Lady MacLennan gave a frantic nod.
As she stood outside the chapel, her heart pounded faster, quickening all the more when she saw her father extend a hand towards her. Praying that she didn’t embarrass herself by tripping over her legs or stepping on her dress, she took her first step into the small chapel, thankful it wasn’t such a large ceremony that her nerves would suffocate her.
Invitations had been sent out to neighboring clans, but most would probably only meet at the celebrations afterward.
She stole a glance at the Laird, who looked dark and foreboding instead of a groom at his wedding. At least Laird Crawford had had a less severe look on his face when he had married Scarlett.
“Are ye ready, Mabel?” Laird MacLennan suddenly asked. “‘Tis nae too late to turn back.”
Mabel understood her father’s concern, and it was touching that he was giving her the option to escape a fate she might not want. He had not said anything earlier, but she sensed that he feared the Laird might have coerced her into this marriage.
They were a family of no consequence or advantage to him, yet he still wanted her. But she didn’t know why.
She had told her father it was for the boys, but he had a logical mindanda romantic heart. He didn’t want any of his daughters to be stuck in loveless marriages, even if they started off as arranged matches, and with everything he had seen of the match so far, he wasn’t sure if he could trust that Laird Muir wouldn’t leave her in a loveless, lonely marriage.
“I am sure, Faither,” Mabel said. “I will marry him.”
He nodded and led her into the chapel.
She spotted the bairns sitting in the front row beside her mother and felt tears spring to her eyes. They looked adorable in their matching linen shirts and trews. She hadn’t expected to see them, but she was grateful they had left their chambers. She sent a grateful smile to her mother, who nodded at her.
She turned back to the man standing at the altar, gasping when he turned to her and his eyes softened ever so slightly. She gave him a hesitant smile as her father placed her hand in his, and was surprised when he leaned in.
“Ye are verra bonny,” he murmured. “I am most fortunate.”
She felt heat travel from her cheeks to her chest and lowered her eyes as he led her the rest of the way to the priest. She had been expecting him to stay silent, but the whispered compliment had stunned her, and her heart skipped a beat in surprise.
His hand was large around hers and warm, and it lent strength to her shaky knees.
The priest started his sermon, and Mabel realized that her heart had yet to stop pounding. The Laird made her question her decision again.
Could she really submit the rest of her life to him?
He had proven himself a responsible laird and godfather to the boys, but would he be a good husband to her?
“I pronounce ye man and wife. Ye may now kiss the bride,” the priest announced.
Her heart soared as she lifted her eyes to the Laird, but he didn’t waste a second, pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek as the small crowd cheered.
