Captivating A Highland Warrior (Steamy Scottish Historical Romance)

by Maddie MacKenna

  The Earl was clearly taken aback by this notion. He stood quietly for a while, thinking about how to react to this news. Marion hadn’t had the chance to ease him into this knowledge, so Fionnghall understood his astonishment.

  “Marion? To become the Lady of a Scottish clan?” he mumbled more to himself than to Fionnghall.

  He paced around for a few minutes and Fionnghall grew impatient. This wasn’t unnoticed by the Countess and Lady Brun.

  “What is it, dear?” the Countess asked her husband.

  He stopped and looked back and forth between Fionnghall and his wife.

  “Er….” he started. “The Laird of Gille Chriost has proposed something very… interesting.”

  His wife tilted her head, looking at him curiously.

  “He has asked for Marion’s hand in marriage,” he stated shortly.

  “My Marion? To live in Scotland? That cannot happen,” the Countess said immediately. Realizing how blunt that must have sounded, she continued. “You have been very kind to our Marion, but she is an English Lady. She cannot move to Scotland.”

  Lady Brun cleared her throat and stepped in.

  “I am sorry. May I weigh in?”

  The Earl and Countess turned to look at her.

  “I realize that ye are more her parents than I am.” She suppressed a sob, “But there is somethin’ else ye should ken. Years ago, there was an agreement made between the late Laird of Brun and the Laird of Gille Chriost. Laird Fionnghall here is to marry the daughter of Laird Brun to unite the two clans and to keep the wealth and peace.”

  “However, under recent circumstances, it is unfortunate that my younger daughter, Lady Beitris, is nae... available... fer such an alliance. So, I would love fer Marion, whose place it was originally, to marry Laird Fionnghall. And to me understandin’, Marion has gladly agreed,” she finished.

  Fionnghall was grateful for Lady Brun’s explanation, but based on the expressions on the faces of the Earl and Countess, he wasn’t sure if it had made any difference.

  The Earl cleared his throat.

  “Er. I must speak with Marion about this, I am afraid. It would be a very unusual marriage. Certainly, Marion was born in Scotland but we have raised her as an English Lady through all these years,” he said thoughtfully. “Perhaps in such a unique situation, we should let Marion make the decision.”

  The Countess did not look pleased.

  * * *

  Deirdre had been keeping company with Marion, for which she was grateful. She was tired, but after sleeping for days, she rather preferred the company.

  Deirdre had been very excited about the news she had shared with her and Marion simply couldn’t contain her overflowing plans about the wedding between Marion and Fionnghall.

  She had been blabbering on about flowers and food and even Marion’s gown and what it should look like. Frankly, if Marion’s father agreed to the marriage, there would be nothing left to plan for the wedding. Deirdre was excited and efficient.

  A light knock on the door interrupted Deirdre’s speech and Marion turned to look towards the door.

  “Are you feeling any better, darling?” the Countess asked and stepped in.

  “A little,” she replied and smiled at her father who also entered.

  Deirdre made room for her parents so they could get closer to their daughter.

  “Marion, the Laird of Gille Chriost has recently come to me with a very interesting proposition,” the Earl started.

  Marin already guessed where this was going and she straightened up on her bed.

  “Yes?”

  “Er, Marion, he has asked for your hand in marriage. Though me and your mother are not very keen to agree to this, Lady Brun has made a point about an alliance between Brun and Gille Chriost,” he said.

  “Father, I want to marry him,” Marion interrupted, saving her father the trouble.

  The Earl and Countess looked at each other with a hint of sadness in their eyes.

  “But… then we would never see you,” the Countess said, taking Marion’s hand.

  “I would come visit,” she promised. “Please, Father, he would make me so happy.”

  The Earl sighed deeply and simply nodded once.

  Marion gathered all her strength and threw her arms around her father’s neck.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  Her mother rubbed her arm and smiled vaguely.

  “Deirdre, I guess your vision is coming to life,” Marion teased and Deirdre burst into laughter.

  29

  Is There A Happily Ever After?

  The next few days went by very fast. Marion was recovering slowly but surely and everyone took such good care of her. She was never alone. Someone was constantly with her and now that her and Fionnghall’s engagement was official, he spent more time with her in the chambers while she was recovering.

  Deirdre had taken on the wedding plans and she was having a great time planning the wedding of Marion’s dreams. Or perhaps her own, Marion wasn’t sure.

  Marion had given Deirdre permission for planning exactly the kind of wedding she thought best. Not only did Marion not have any energy for making all these big decisions, she didn’t really care about them, either. All that mattered to her was that she was able to marry Fionnghall with her parents’ blessing.

  She never in her life would have thought that she’d feel this way. And more than that, she never thought her husband would be a Scottish Laird. And a Scottish Laird she loved, no less.

  Since Marion’s parents were already at Gille Chriost, Deirdre saw it best to have the wedding as soon as possible. This way, her parents could be part of it and all the people Marion loved so much would be present.

  “Which one dae ye like better?” Deirdre said, holding out two pieces of white fabric.

  To Marion, they both looked exactly the same, but Deirdre insisted that there was a difference in the fabric and the color.

  Marion was sitting in the upstairs drawing room. She was now well enough that she was allowed to be up, but she still felt weak and wouldn’t dare to venture downstairs quite yet.

  “Deirdre, why don’t you just pick? I honestly do not see a difference,” Marion said and Deirdre groaned.

  “But it is yer wedding,” she said, lifting the pieces of fabric up again in front of Marion’s face.

  “Fine. The left one,” Marion decided.

  “Really? But this fabric is so rough,” Deirdre said and looked at the piece with a disapproving expression.

  “The right one then,” Marion stated and shook her head.

  “Great choice,” Deirdre smiled.

  The wedding fever was starting to spread around the castle and everyone was feeling it, even the servants. There was an uplifted feeling at Gille Chriost. It seemed like the entire castle had woken up from a deep sleep.

  Marion sipped on her tea and let Deirdre babble on about the wedding gown.

  The wedding would take place as soon as Marion was healthy enough to walk down the aisle and attend the ball afterwards. Deirdre had planned everything to the tee. According to her, all Marion needed to do was to put on the gown and show up.

  Deirdre had accepted help only from Eilidth, who had offered to help her enthusiastically.

  “Marion, I have missed yer entire childhood and young adult life, please let me dae this fer ye,” she had said.

  Marion had never in her life felt as loved as she did right now. She felt at home, especially now that her parents were there, too, and that she had found her real mother. That had been her goal, after all.

  Marion smiled to herself and sighed—she was happy.

  * * *

  In a week’s time, Marion was already feeling much better. She was up and about and the physician had said that she was fully recovered. The wedding was starting to become more real and Marion couldn’t wait to walk down the aisle and make her dreams finally come true. She had waited long enough and she had absolutely no intention of pushing her luck and furthe
r.

  Now that everything was arranged, she didn’t want to let anything, even time, come between her and Fionnghall’s marriage.

  “Has Deirdre let ye make any decisions?” Fionnghall asked Marion on a beautiful day, when they were outdoors, walking around the village.

  Marion had been within four walls for days and she had begged for Fionnghall to take her outside and to smell the fresh air. The fall was starting to come about and Marion could smell it in the air. The nights were getting colder and leaves started to turn red and brown.

  “She has,” Marion smiled, “though I don’t mind at all that she has taken over. It is a lot of work and she has so many ideas. I don’t think I would have been able to put together such a beautiful wedding.”

  Fionnghall lifted his head. Jack and a bunch of his men were returning from their hunting trip.

  “Marion, look,” he said with a smile on his face and pointed towards the men.

  It took a while for her to realize what Fionnghall meant.

  She looked at the band of men, who were trotting towards them on their horses. They had an extra horse with them. A white, beautiful mare that Marion would have recognized anywhere.

  “Bells!” she exclaimed and broke free from Fionnghall’s grip.

  She ran straight towards the men and Jack halted the group as Marion approached. Jack was holding the lead rope that was attached to Bells’ halter. As Marion reached them, he handed the rope to Marion.

  “We found her by the shore, and thought ye might like her back,” Jack grinned.

  “Is she all right? Goodness, I was so worried about you,” she said, talking to the horse and petting her neck.

  Bells looked at Marion with her big eyes and didn’t seem the least bit concerned. She had been gone for many days, but clearly had been enjoying her new-found freedom.

  “She is fine, though she might love some oats, hay, and fresh water,” Jack said as Marion lead Bells towards the barn.

  “Now everything is just perfect,” Marion smiled at Fionnghall.

  Slowly, they walked to the barn and Marion let Bells into her old stall.

  “It looks like this stall will be yours for good,” Marion said. “You missed quite a bit, a lot has happened since you dumped me in the field,” she was talking to the horse and Fionnghall chuckled.

  “Dae ye always talk to her as if she were a person?”

  Marion shrugged.

  “Yes,” she said simply.

  Bells shook her head happily.

  * * *

  Another week had gone by quickly. Marion was woken up by Deirdre early in the morning. The sun wasn’t even up yet and Marion rubbed her tired eyes. She suppressed a big yawn.

  “Why are we up so early? The ceremony isn’t happening until the evening,” Marion said and burrowed her head back into her pillow.

  Deirdre didn’t appreciate this. She pulled the blanket off of Marion and smacked her leg.

  “Get up! It’s yer day! And we have lots to dae, that is why we are up before anyone else,” she said, poking the fire in the fireplace with a stick.

  Marion groaned. She didn’t exactly appreciate early mornings.

  Slowly, she sat up on her bed and as soon as she did, Deirdre was by her side, brushing her hair.

  “How long have you been awake?” Marion asked with her eyes half-shut.

  “A good while,” she responded.

  After Marion’s hair was brushed, Deirdre called a maid to help her to arrange a bath. It wasn’t an easy task, because they had to warm up kettle after kettle of water to pour into the tub they had brought into her room.

  Getting ready took hours. Marion had no idea that Deirdre had planned all of this, but in the end, she was glad about it. She even braided her hair and lifted the creation up to the back of her head with pins and ribbons.

  “Who is helping Fionnghall?” Marion asked curiously.

  “He is still asleep, I am sure,” Deirdre responded.

  Marion scoffed.

  “How is that fair?”

  “Well,” Deirdre responded and pulled her hair playfully, “He won’t need to dae his hair and get into a corset, will he?”

  Marion rolled her eyes.

  Finally, Deirdre was done with her masterpiece, or Marion, in other words. She pulled her in front of the mirror and let Marion take it all in.

  She had to admit that Deirdre had done an amazing job with her. Her gown was a clean white with a long train. The hem was ruffled and the bodice was decorated with white pearls. Her veil reached all the way down to the floor. Marion looked at her own face that was lit with excitement. Her cheeks were rosy and her eyes glimmered. Her eyes teared up a bit.

  She couldn’t help but smile as Deirdre handed her a bouquet of blue wildflowers to carry down the aisle.

  “No! No cryin’,” she said and hugged Marion. “Yer eyes will go red.” Marion laughed.

  “Thank you, Deirdre. For everything,” Marion said and tried to suppress the tears that kept creeping up.

  She shook her head.

  “Ye look perfect. And it is all ye. I had very little to dae with it.”

  The door opened and the Marion’s mothers stepped in.

  “Oh, my darling Marion, you look wonderful!” the Countess said and hugged Marion tightly.

  “Thank you, Mother,” she responded with a big smile. She felt she was the happiest person on Earth.

  * * *

  Jack raised his glass and all the rest of the men followed. The dining room was full of Fionnghall’s closest men and they were all happy for his upcoming marriage.

  “To Laird Fionnghall! May his marriage be happy and prosperous,” Jack said and the men toasted to Fionnghall.

  “Hear, hear!” a dozen men exclaimed, raising their glasses.

  The afternoon had fallen to evening and the sun was setting behind the horizon. Candles lit up the big dining room that served as a waiting area for Fionnghall and his guests, as per Deirdre’s instructions. He was not allowed to leave the dining room until she came to get them.

  It was very important for her that Fionnghall would not see Marion until they were in the church, and he had no objection to this. Traditions…

  The days leading up to the wedding day had been full of buzz. Everyone in the castle was excited and Deirdre had been out of control. In fact, Marion had been the only thing that had kept his feet on the ground.

  And now that it was time to march to the altar, he couldn’t have been more sure about anything. Marion was the person he was supposed to spend the rest of his life with.

  “So, Fionnghall,” Jack said, sitting next to him on the couch, “Are ye nervous?”

  Fionnghall chuckled.

  “Nae one bit,” he responded and clinked his glass to Jack’s. “Were ye nervous on yer wedding day?” he continued.

  Jack pondered the question for a brief second.

  “Nah,” he said and smiled. “I knew I was doin’ the right thing. She was amazing.”

  “She was,” Fionnghall agreed.

  Fionnghall thought he saw a hint of sadness on Jack’s face, but it was gone as soon as it had appeared.

  “Ye and Marion are made fer each other,” he stated and Fionnghall could do nothing but agree. “Have ye written yer vows?” Jack asked.

  He nodded. Deirdre had made sure that the vows were written way ahead of time, so she could read them over and make possible changes. One thing was certain, Deirdre was going to make sure that absolutely everything was perfect today.

  Deirdre peeked her head through the door. Her smile reached from one ear to the other.

  “Come on! ‘Tis time,” she said and waved to Fionnghall.

  As he stood up, the men slapped him on the back and wished him good luck.

  * * *

  Marion was in the side room of the church with Deirdre and her mothers. The Countess was crying and dabbing her eyes with her handkerchief. Eilidth put Marion’s veil over her face and squeezed her shoulders.

&n
bsp; “I may have missed everythin’ else, but I am glad I didnae miss yer wedding day,” she smiled and Marion couldn’t help but smile back.

  Deirdre was fussing around Marion, making sure that her train was straight and that she looked absolutely perfect.