Page 40 of In Love With the Wrong Highland Sister
The two sisters smiled at each other, then all three of them shared a hug. It was time to go.
A short while later, Laria was looking into the loving eyes of her father as she stood at the entrance to the family chapel of Grainaig Castle.
“I think you look even more beautiful than you did the last time you were wed, my girl,” he said tenderly, smiling. Then his expression became anxious. “But are you sure that this is what you want? I never want to see you so badly hurt again.”
“This is what I want,” Laria assured him. “At last, I have realized that James is a very good man, and I have absolute faith in him, Father. Come, let me get this wedding done because I do not wish to stand here all day!”
Hector smiled, took his daughter’s hand, and together they walked into the church.
* * *
James had been standing with his gaze cast down to the floor, trying not to fidget with his clothes or step from foot to foot in nervous agitation when Gavin nudged him.
“She is here,” he murmured.
James looked up as Laria walked inside. At first, since she was silhouetted against the bright daylight of morning, he could not see her face, but as she moved into the shade of the church interior, their gazes met. She was smiling at him radiantly, and his heart, which until that moment had been racing, settled into his normal rhythm as a wave of love washed over him. He felt a sense of rightness and certainty. This was the woman he had been looking for his whole life, and now he was going to take the first step into their shared future. James returned her smile and held out his hand as her father, with a kiss on his daughter’s forehead, placed hers in it.
“Look after her,” he whispered. There was a warning in his eyes.
“I will,” James replied, unable to take his eyes away from his bride-to-be. “You look beautiful,” he whispered, as her shining silver-gray eyes met his.
“So do you,” she answered, with a smile that lit up her countenance.
Then they turned to the celebrant, a young, newly-ordained priest named Father MacInnes, who looked more nervous than the bridal couple. “Do you consent to be married?” he asked, looking from Laria to James and back again.
“We do,” they answered in unison.
“Then please make your vows,” he invited, smiling and nodding at James. “James, since you are the provider, please proceed.”
James took Laria’s hands in his, noting how cold they were. She was trembling a little, and he could feel her nervousness, so he squeezed them and kissed them. “Don’t be afraid,” he whispered. Then he said aloud, “Laria, I promise that from now on, I will be your home, your shelter, the one who looks after you, and the one who loves you and provides for you. I will defend you with my body and die for you if I must. Will you have me as your husband?”
Father MacInnes nodded to Laria, whose eyes were full of happy tears.
“Oh, yes, Jamie,” she replied happily. “I will. Jamie, I promise to hold you in my heart forever, comfort you when you are sad, laugh with you when you are happy, and make our house the home you love and long for. Will you take me as your wife?”
“Yes, my Laria,” he answered. “A thousand times yes!”
They could hardly wait for the end of the service. When the final blessing had been said, James lifted Laria into his arms and whirled her around, both of them laughing with joy. Then he marched her out of the door and into the great hall, where a small wedding breakfast had been set out for them. Neither had wanted a large celebration, so the number of guests was limited to the two families and a few close friends.
The bridal couple had been seated next to each other, but James was not happy with this arrangement. When Laria moved to sit in her chair, he pulled her onto his lap and kissed her soundly in front of the assembled guests, for which he received a spontaneous round of applause.
Laria returned the kiss with fervor, and as she drew away, she saw a mischievous twinkle in his eyes and became aware of the hardness of his arousal underneath her. It brought a response from her own body as she felt a jolt of pleasure shooting to her core, and she squirmed a little as she felt dampness between her thighs.
“Not long now,” James whispered in her ear, letting her go.
William was grinning at them from across the table. He was sitting between Gavin and Eloisa and, as usual, he was stuffing his face with great chunks of chicken, looking as content as any little boy could.
“I can practically see him growing,” James remarked. “But we will have to do something about his table manners.”
“He will be just as devilishly handsome as you are!” Laria giggled.
“Nobody is as handsome as that,” James remarked, earning himself a playful swipe from his wife.
Laria had reluctantly sat down to eat the delicious spread of food that had been prepared for them, but it tasted like dust. She ate morsels of succulent roast pheasant, pork, and lamb then nibbled on flavorsome locally-made cheese, honeyed fruits, and cream. Finally, when her stomach threatened to rebel and spill all the food back onto the tablecloth, she clutched James’s thigh under the table, and a meaningful look passed between them. He patted her knee then stood up and held up his glass.
“My dear friends and family,” he said loudly, “please raise your glasses to my lovely wife, Laria. I cannot make her the lady of a laird, but why would I have to when she is already queen of my heart? To Laria Elliott, my wife. Sláinte Mhath!”
“Sláinte Mhath!” came the answering chorus.
