Page 42 of The Highlander's Virgin Nun
From the moment he saw her in rags, disheveled from running through the woods, he had found her beauty astounding. But today, in a simple but elegant, flowing white dress, she was especially radiant. Some of her hair was pinned back with a flower stem, and she perhaps had some rouge on her cheeks. Or maybe she was simply blushing with nerves. Either way, he thought she looked magnificent. For a marriage of convenience, he had chosen exceptionally well.
“Good mornin’,” she whispered to him shyly as she reached the altar.
She handed her bouquet to Alexandra and then turned to face him, offering him her hands as was custom.
“Good mornin’.”
As the priest was about to begin, more footsteps were heard at the entrance to the chapel, and Jayden and Caelan’s heads swung around abruptly, anticipating anything.
But it was only Mrs. Milloy, dressed in her Sunday best, nipping into the chapel to sit in the back. Caelan was a little confused, having invited no one but his friend and his sister. But then he realized that his bride had invited the dressmaker when he saw the smile she gave her and the little wave the dressmaker offered in return.
Caelan thought it was a nice gesture.
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here todayto join Laird Caelan Moore of Clan Sinclair and Lady Rosaline Shaw of Clan MacKinnon in holy matrimony.”
Caelan glanced at Rosaline, checking that she did not mind him sharing her name. But as it was the last time she would be addressed by it, he felt it was important to include it.
She looked content to hear it once more, and she gave him a reassuring smile.
“It will be a brief formality today, concludin’ the wedding by religion and by law with a traditional handfasting ceremony.”
The priest took the tartan cloth from the pulpit and wrapped it around the couple’s hands, laying it over their wrists in a criss-cross motion until their hands were entirely bound.
Underneath the cloth, Caelan laced his fingers through Rosaline’s, wanting her to know that she was safe. She squeezed back and smiled with her eyes.
They read the traditional vows, promising to support and stand by one another until death did them part. They said theirI do’s, and the priest ran through a few religious lines about their promises to one another and God.
Caelan thought he would never hear those lines read to him, having sat through many weddings and seeing no place for such a relationship in his life. Even now, in a wedding orchestrated for the good of his people, he was surprised to hear the priest pronounce him a husband.
Their hands were unwrapped, and when he was instructed to kiss his bride, Caelan knew this was a part of the ceremony that he could easily take in his stride.
He wrapped an arm around Rosaline’s waist, his other cradled the back of her neck, and he dipped her and kissed her deeply on the lips, feeling peals of laughter bubble up her body and the corners of her lips curl into a smile.
The crowd of four cheered, and he pulled his bride back up.
“That was the hard part,” Caelan whispered to her. “Now it’s time for the party.”
The pipes blared again, and the bride and groom headed down the aisle hand in hand, with their guests following behind. As they emerged from the chapel, Caelan turned to his bride once more while the others headed towards the castle for the celebrations.
“I hope that wasnae too painful. I told him to hold back on the religious stuff.”
Rosaline smiled sincerely and took both of his hands. “It was absolutely fine. Thank ye.”
“For the rest of the day, ye only need to eat and drink and watch the celebrations. Michaela might whisk ye up for a dance and a song, but other than that, yer part is fulfilled for the day. Thank ye again, Rosaline.”
“Are there goin’ to be dancers?” she asked, waving off his thanks.
“Ye’ll just have to wait and see,” he teased, and they hurried off to the castle.
* * *
A great meal was laid out by the servants, with food plentiful for more than twice the attendants. Family and friends of Caelan’s from nearby villages came to see the beautiful bride and celebrate with them, while folk from the Sinclair village enjoyed a day at the castle, welcomed as always.
Caelan watched Rosaline be praised all day long for her beauty and her grace. She continued to shine the entire time even under so much attention.
“Ye are doin’ well. A laird’s wife in the makin’ already, I see,” he said, finally snatching a moment with her.
“Everyone has been very kind and sweet.”
