Page 60 of Taming the Highland Misfits
“I will, Mistress,” Maura assured her, “but only a week? That isnae much time!”
Isla laughed. “Everyone says that,” she told Maura.
Maura’s eyes widened. “Mistress, ye arenae—” She broke off, making a vague gesture in the direction of Isla’s stomach.
“No—I am not pregnant, Maura,” Isla assured her. “I suppose—we just want to be together as soon as possible.”
Maura smiled at her, eyes twinkling. “I can understand that, Mistress.”
“But there is one matter you might be able to help me with.” Isla’s cheeks reddened and she looked down at her hands, which she was twisting nervously in her lap.
“Anythin’,” Maura assured her.
Isla hesitated. “My father was a brutal man, as you know,” she began, watching in the mirror as Maura nodded, frowning, in agreement. She took a deep breath, then went on: “and because he was also a neglectful one who cared about no one but himself, I never learned what goes on in the marriage bed.”
Maura stared at her, horrified. How could a woman of Isla’s age and background be uneducated about what went on between a man and a woman? She felt deeply sorry for her.
“I am sorry to have shocked you, Maura.” Isla wished the floor would open up and swallow her, she was so embarrassed. “Perhaps I am asking too much, and you are in the same position as I am. I can find someone else to ask.”
“No, Mistress,” Maura assured her. “I was just surprised that ye had been left sae ignorant. I will tell ye what ye need tae know exactly as my mother told me.”
A few moments later, when she had absorbed everything Maura had told her, Isla’s feelings were in turmoil. She had always thought that lovemaking involved no more than kissing and cuddling, but the truth seemed infinitely more complicated, even bizarre.
“Mammy told me it can be very nice,” Maura assured her, but Isla was not convinced.
* * *
When she whirled around in front of the full-length mirror in her bedroom and looked at her reflection, Isla felt a mixture of terror and elation. The dress was the most beautiful creation she had ever seen, made of pink satin and a fringe of cream lace that edged the modest round neck and wide sleeves. A cream belt was fastened around it to show off her tiny waist, and a full skirt flared out around her.
“Ye look like a queen, Mistress,” Maura said appreciatively as they left Isla’s bedroom to make their way to the church.
Isla took one last look at the room she had slept in since she was a child; it held many good memories, but she was glad to leave it. Tonight she would spend the first hours of her married life in another bedroom, where she would hopefully create the most wonderful memories of all.
A frisson of nervousness spread over her skin at the thought, then she reassured herself. Finley would be gentle and would never cause her pain. She was going into the arms of the best man in the world.
There were few people at the wedding, which was just the way both Isla and Finley wanted it. The Laird, Angus and Maura and a few of the household staff were the only guests, and the ceremony took place in the Roscolm Castle chapel, which Laird Mullen made available to them.
Finley wanted nothing more than to have the whole ceremony done and over with so that he could be alone with his wife. He felt awkward and self-conscious in his kilt, his new shirt and boots, and wanted to be back in his comfortable working clothes again. As well as that, he hated being the centre of attention.
However, a moment later he had ceased to think of all that as a slight murmur at the back of the chapel told him that his bride had arrived. He turned around, then his eyes widened at the sight of Isla, resplendent in her wedding dress, coming towards him with a beaming smile on her face. He could not help smiling back, and when he reached out his hand to her, he whispered: “I have never seen ye lookin’ sae lovely, sweetheart. I am a lucky man.”
“Not as lucky as I am,” Isla replied as she placed a soft kiss on his cheek.
They turned to face the minister and said the vows that would bind them together forever, and Finley found that all his fear and nervousness had disappeared.
“Isla,” he said lovingly. “I am yours till my dying day. I will bring home bread for your table, shield ye and protect ye from harm as well as I can, an’ if we are blessed wi’ children, I will be the best father I can be. Will ye have me for your husband?”
Isla’s eyes were shining with tears of happiness. “Oh, yes, Finley, I will,” she replied. “And I will be the best and most loving wife I can be, and I will bear our children and help them to be kind and honourable like their father. I will stand by your side through every hardship and trial until my dying day. Will you have me as your wife?”
“I will,” he answered, and to her surprise, he produced a ring and placed it on the third finger of her left hand. She had thought that there would be no ring, and was not going to ask him for one, but she was delighted. It was not an expensive one, she could see, since it was made of silver that was a little tarnished, but Isla would treasure it forever.
The minister gave his final blessing and they shared a chaste kiss in front of the little congregation, then they walked out into the courtyard of the castle into the hazy white sunlight.
Laird Mullen greeted them, and offered his congratulations on their marriage. “I am delighted for both of you,” he said warmly as he kissed Isla’s cheek and shook Finley’s hand. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you, M’Laird.” Isla was delighted, but puzzled. “But why are you doing all this for us? How can we repay you?”
“There is no need for repayment,” the Laird replied, then he sighed. There was a sudden sadness about him. “I know the circumstances in which you both lost your parents, and I know something of how you feel. My own parents did not die such violent deaths, but I was only ten years old when they perished in a carriage accident, so I can relate to your circumstances. I feel I have let the town down somewhat, and this is the start of my efforts to redeem myself a little.”
