Page 122 of Taming the Highland Misfits
“You may punish me severely if I fail to satisfy you,” he said solemnly, but when Freya began to giggle, he joined in with her laughter. Their wedding night was going to be a wild experience!
* * *
As if in tune with the happy occasion, the day dawned bright and sunny, and when Freya opened her eyes she was already smiling. She was asking herself a thousand questions. Would Alex like her dress? Would she forget the words of her vows? What was the day going to be like? Even though she was suffused with happiness, she was terrified, and wondered if all brides felt this way.
Presently, Mhairi arrived with her breakfast, which she was eating in bed that morning. Somehow the thought of enjoying her meal with her male relatives had made her squeamish, especially since Laird MacNeill had arrived to be by his nephew’s side during the wedding itself.
All the drama that had gone on in the last few weeks had unsettled Freya, but she was determined that on this day of all days she would show everyone her best self.
She looked down at the generous amount of food that Mhairi had given her, and felt nothing. She had no appetite for it at all, since her stomach was so knotted with nerves.
“Try an’ eat a couple o’ mouthfuls, hen,” Mhairi urged. “Ye will need tae keep your strength up.”
Freya obligingly attempted a few spoonfuls of eggs and a little black pudding, but found that she could barely swallow them, and eventually pushed her plate away. “I am so sorry, Mhairi,” she said regretfully, “but I have no appetite.”
Mhairi nodded. She smiled at Freya. “I understand, hen,” she said fondly. “I was the same on my wedding day. Dinnae worry, ye will be fine.”
Freya forebore to mention that she was far more worried about the night ahead than the ceremony itself. She could deal with many people at once; she had been mixing with them in high society her entire life. Being with her husband was what scared her. Granted, they had been alone many times before, but this night of all nights was different. This time, he would truly make her his.
Mhairi was not fooled. She knew exactly what the problem was, and tried to draw Freya’s attention to the myriad of other matters that would need her attention that day.
Foremost of these, of course, was the dress. When a rather subdued Freya had come out of her bath, Mhairi and Caitrin tamed the wild waves of her hair into a soft coil at the nape of her neck, while letting a few curls frame her face. After that, they produced the finished gold velvet wedding dress. It was so simple it was completely unfashionable, since the current mode was a concoction of frills and lace with great bustling skirts.
Freya despised such creations. Her outfit consisted of a gold-coloured velvet dress which flared at the hips to accommodate a cream-coloured underdress that peeped out from under long bell sleeves and a knee-high slit in the front of the skirt. It had a modest round neck and a circular train that followed behind her. The dress accentuated Freya’s curves while showing nothing of her body, and was the most gorgeous creation Caitrin and Mhairi had ever seen.
“I have never seen you looking more beautiful, Freya,” Caitrin said in wonder. “You have outdone yourself.”
“Aye, mistress— ” Mhairi began, before Freya cut her short.
“How long have we known each other, Mhairi?” she asked. “And how many times have I asked you to call me Freya?”
Mhairi sighed. “A’ right, Freya,” she said, smiling. “I was just about tae say I wonder what Alex will say when he sees ye?”
“He will be astounded by your beauty,” Caitrin said with a touch of envy. “Now,” she produced some daisies and began to make a chain which she draped around Freya’s head, “your headdress.”
“Just what I wanted!” Freya cried, then she hugged both of them.
“Ready?” Caitrin asked, opening the door.
“As I will ever be,” Freya answered. She took the arm of each of them and they walked down to the chapel.
* * *
Alex’s two brothers were standing beside him as Freya and her father entered, and all three men looked at her with identical expressions of admiration. Alex’s heart began to hammer a wild tattoo as he imagined himself taking the dress off to reveal the beautiful body underneath it. He could hardly wait!
Laird Murdaugh was walking beside her, and had taken Freya’s arm to lead her towards the altar. He met Alex’s eyes in a challenging stare and continued to look at him as he put Freya’s hand in her bridegroom’s. His expression seemed to say:harm my daughter and you will have me to deal with.
Alex gave the Laird a brief smile then looked down at the woman who meant everything to him. “You look gorgeous,” he whispered.
“So do you,” she replied. “Now, can we be married?”
He grinned, kissed her knuckles and they turned to the minister.
It was a mercifully short ceremony, mostly because the bride and groom had requested it. It was attended by close family and friends only, although Aidan of course, was missing. Freya was desperately sad about this, and even though she had pleaded with her father to allow him to come, the Laird was adamant that he was a disgrace to the family and should not be allowed to attend.
As she looked into Alex’s eyes while she promised to love and honour him till she died, Freya saw her future stretching out before her, with children and grandchildren as yet unborn. She would not deceive herself, of course; there would be trials and tribulations, but those happened to everyone. She could only see a bright road ahead, and there was nothing she and Alex could not deal with as long as they were together.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the minister, Reverend Steele said, smiling at them. “You may now kiss your wife, Alex.”
