His silver-buttoned black jacket and waistcoat were straight out of history, a deep jade ruched tie picking up the colour in the Mackenzie dress kilt and the matching flashes on his black kilt hose, his ghillie brogues gleaming. He looked every inch the Laird, and she felt her heart swell with pride.
‘Maisie,’ he said, holding out his hand, and she went down to him, her heart in her mouth as his eyes raked over her and darkened. ‘You look stunning,’ he said under his breath as she reached him, and she lifted a hand and touched his cheek.
‘So do you. Who would have known you had such good legs, Mackenzie?’ she teased, and then, taking the last step, she turned and watched as Jenni came down the stairs, her eyes filling as she reached her father’s side.
‘Oh, Jenni,’ he said gruffly, cupping her shoulders with gentle hands and kissing her cheek. ‘You look…’
He couldn’t finish, couldn’t say the words. There weren’t words for how he felt at that moment, not words he could ever find.
‘Don’t you start, or you’ll set me off,’ she warned him, and he laughed softly and took a step back.
‘Come and see your flowers. They’re beautiful.’
‘Oh, they are! Oh, Mum, look!’
‘I know, I’ve seen.’
Seen and cried my eyes out, she thought, and then she noticed Rob wasn’t wearing his buttonhole. ‘Here, let me pin that on for you,’ she said, taking it out of the box and reaching up with trembling fingers to pin it in place.
He returned the favour, his hands steady, his brow creased in a little frown of concentration. ‘How’s that?’ he asked, and she looked down at it and smiled.
‘Perfect. Thank you.’
‘Right. You and Helen had better go,’ he said, and opening the front door he helped them into the first of the three wedding cars waiting on the drive. It was only a short journey to the church; they could have walked, but the weather was never reliable enough for that and, besides, with her stomach in knots and her legs like jelly, she wasn’t sure she would have made it.
The church was packed with family and friends, many of them people she’d never met, but Helen greeted them all, introducing her to one or two, and Maisie held her head high and smiled through the speculative glances.
Alec came up to her, his hands shaking as he took hers and kissed her cheek, and she hugged him and told him not to worry.
‘How’s Jenni?’ he asked, and she smiled.
‘Beautiful. She can’t wait.’
‘Nor can I.’
He went back to his place at the front of the church, and she waved to the Coopers, sitting behind their son, Seonaid’s hat a delicate confection of lavender, toning with her husband’s tartan. She looked nervous, and Maisie winked at her in solidarity, and then turned back to see if her brother had arrived.
And stopped in her tracks, because her father was there too, his face stern. She went over to him, wondering how much more emotion she was going to feel today, and he took her hand in his and gave what passed for a smile. ‘I couldn’t let my granddaughter get married without seeing her off,’ he said.
Why not? He hadn’t seen her off, Maisie thought, but she didn’t say that, she just thanked him for coming and wondered where they’d seat him. With her brother Peter and his wife, of course, she thought, and greeted them distractedly.
‘I’ll catch up with you later. The bridesmaids are here, so Jenni won’t be far behind. I’d better sit down,’ she said, and took her place beside Helen, her heart pounding.
Then the music changed, and with her heart in her mouth she turned to watch as the man who once had waited for her where Alec was standing now walked their daughter down the aisle to the man she loved with all her heart.
Her eyes were shining, her face alight with happiness, and Rob, with his hand over hers in the crook of his arm, walked her slowly down past Maisie and took his place in front of the minister.
When he’d given her hand to Alec, he moved into the pew beside her and she felt his hand brush hers. Their fingers linked and clung, and together they watched as Alec and Jenni made their vows.
The same vows she and Rob had exchanged, the vows that had counted for nothing in the face of all that was to come. But that had been long ago, and really nothing had changed.
She still loved him. There had been no one else for her, and never would be. He was her husband still in everything but law, and if he asked her again, she would marry him once more, would say these vows to him again and mean them, from the bottom of her heart…
The reception seemed to go on forever.
Rob had made his speech, caused a few chuckles and brought tears to the eyes of his daughter and the woman who should still have been his wife. He’d laughed at Alec’s speech, laughed even more at the best man’s, and best of all he’d got through it all without losing it.
But now the first dance was over, and he could hear the unmistakeable sound of a helicopter in the sky above.
‘Whatever’s that?’ Jenni said, turning to Alec on the dance floor as the music stopped, and Rob and Maisie led them all outside to the lawn and they watched the helicopter land, settling like a feather on the circular lawn up above the castle.
‘Dad? What’s that?’ Jenni asked, and he pulled a face and grinned.
‘Your going-away car.’
‘But—we’re not going away,’ Alec said, looking puzzled. ‘We haven’t packed.’
‘Yes, you have,’ his mother said, and his father handed the pilot his bag.
‘Here,’ Tricia said, handing over Jenni’s. ‘Blame Libby if there’s anything missing.’
‘But—where are we going?’ Jenni asked, so he told them, and their jaws dropped.
‘Wow—Dad?’
‘Come here,’ he said, and she flew into his arms, still his little girl, but not for long. He let her go, handed her over to her husband, slapped Alec on the back and then showered them both with confetti as they ran towards the helicopter. Her veil took off, and Alec grabbed it and bundled it up and helped her into the little aircraft, turning to wave as they took their seats.
And then they were gone, lifting up into the sky, and Rob watched them, Maisie’s hand in his, until they were nothing more than a dot on the horizon. Then he turned to her.
‘I think we’ve got a party to host,’ he said, and she smiled at him through her tears, swiped them out of the way with an ineffectual hand and turned back to their guests.
CHAPTER TEN
SO, it was done.
Her baby was married, whisked away on her honeymoon with tears in her eyes and love in her heart, and now the party was over.
She’d danced for hours, until her feet could hardly hold her, the ceilidh band loud and lively and endless as the caller had kept them all in order and they had laughingly gone wrong anyway. The dashing white sergeant had dashed away, the willow had been stripped within an inch of its life, and they’d finished off with the old Orcadian version of stripping the willow, with two long lines of men and women, crossing and recrossing, whirling each other round until they were giddy and helpless with laughter, and then they’d all joined hands for ‘Auld Lang Syne’.
And now the house was quiet, the air still but for a light breeze, and Maisie took herself out to the gun court, rested her hands against the ancient stone wall and stared out over the moonlit sea.
‘I thought I might find you here.’
She turned her head, looking at him over her shoulder. ‘Have they all gone?’
He nodded. ‘I’ve just seen my mother up to bed. She’s exhausted.’
‘I’m sure. Do you need to walk the dogs?’
‘No. They had a run earlier, one of the ushers took them out. I’ll give them a good walk tomorrow, but they’re sleeping now.’
He fell silent, the tension between them palpable.
‘It was a good day,’ she said finally, just to break the silence, and he came and stood beside her, staring out over the sea, his face pale in the moonlight.
>
‘Yes, it was. Better than I thought it would be.’
‘They looked thrilled with the helicopter. That was very generous of you.’
He shrugged. ‘They aren’t having long off, it’s a very short break, but I just felt I wanted them to have a little privacy. The gatehouse isn’t exactly a honeymoon hideaway and they’ve waited a long time for this.’
She felt a pang of motherly concern, thinking back to their first night together, and Rob’s tenderness and patience. Would Alec be as kind with Jenni?
‘He’ll take good care of her,’ he said gruffly, as if he could read her thoughts. ‘He adores her, Maisie. She’ll be fine.’
‘I know. Your speech was lovely, by the way,’ she told him. ‘Very touching.’
‘I made you cry.’
She laughed, a breathless little sound in the quiet night. ‘It wasn’t hard.’
‘No. It’s been a bit of an emotional roller-coaster.’ He turned her towards him, staring down at her, his eyes shadowed. ‘You looked beautiful today,’ he murmured. ‘I love that dress.’
‘I love it, too. Jenni said—’
She broke off, thinking too late that it might not be wise to tell him what Jenni had said, but he just smiled and tilted his head curiously.
‘What?’ he prompted.
‘She said it would blow your socks off.’
He laughed softly, then gave a quiet sigh. ‘How very true.’ He turned away again, staring out to sea, his eyes unfocused, remembering Maisie dancing, the sway of her hips, the way she’d doubled up with laughter until she could hardly breathe. It wasn’t the dress that had blown his socks off, it was the woman he loved, the woman he should never have allowed to slip through his fingers. Did he dare to try to win her love once more?
‘Maisie, I don’t know if I can do this again,’ he confessed softly, finally voicing the thoughts he’d had all day. ‘I’ve held on all these years, never married again, never even got close, but now you’re back here and it feels as right as it could, but even so, I’m afraid to let myself trust it.’
He breathed in deeply, then let his breath out on a harsh, ragged sigh. ‘What if I’m wrong, Maisie? What if you come back here and find you still hate it after all? What if I let you back into my heart, and you leave me all over again?’
‘I don’t hate it,’ she said quietly. ‘I don’t think I ever really did hate it. I hated being lonely, I hated being without you, and I had no friends, but I was never unhappy with you, Rob. I was only unhappy without you, or when you held yourself back from me. And when I left because I couldn’t stand it any more, you didn’t come after me. I thought you would, thought you’d come to Cambridge on leave, so we could have a chance to work on our marriage, but you didn’t. Only to visit Jenni, and then not for six months.’
‘I couldn’t,’ he told her. ‘I was so confused, so hurt, so angry. My parents gave me your letter when I got back, told me you’d left me. I was devastated. I thought it was better to leave it for a while, to let things settle, then maybe we’d be able to talk. I think I was waiting for you to realise you’d made a mistake and come back to me, but you didn’t, and why should you? And I’m not going to blame my parents. They didn’t help, but I should have talked to you, should have realised something was wrong. I should have come after you.’
‘I wrote to you again, weeks later when I knew you were home, but you didn’t answer my letter. You didn’t even acknowledge it.’
‘I never got a letter,’ he said, and he shook his head slowly, his expression resigned. ‘My father.’
‘Not necessarily. Things get lost.’
His smile was wry. ‘No, Maisie. They don’t.’ He sighed softly, his expression bleak now. ‘I know I’ve let you down, but I still love you, Maisie, more now, maybe, than I did then, because I know now what I’ve lost.’
She closed her eyes, breathing slowly, steadying her heart. He still loved her. Nothing else mattered—only that. She reached up and cradled his face, turning it gently towards her. ‘Rob, after the food tasting, when you kissed me and I stopped you, you said you’d never wanted to hurt me, it was just the wrong time for us. But it’s the right time now. I don’t want to hurt you, either. I love you, too, Rob. I’ve never stopped loving you. I just couldn’t live here without you, and I was faced with another five years of that. I never left you. When you asked for a divorce, I was devastated.’
He stared at her. ‘I thought that was what you wanted?’
‘No. I wanted you, Rob. I’ve only ever wanted you, but I was too young to know how to tell you that, too young and inexperienced and proud to fight for you. But it’s different now. We’re different now—older. Wiser.’
She took a deep breath for courage and held his eyes.
‘Ask me again, Rob. Ask me now.’
He looked around, looked at the lights still on in some of the guest rooms, and shook his head. ‘Not here. Not like this. Meet me here in five minutes—and you might want to change your shoes.’
The ruin. He was taking her to the ruin, the place where they’d always gone to be alone. The place where Alec had asked Jenni to marry him only ten weeks ago.
She went inside and slipped off her shoes, then ran up to her bedroom. How quickly could she shower?
Very, was the answer. She pulled on clean underwear, and then because he loved the dress, because he’d suggested she change her shoes, and only shoes, she put it back on again, zipped it up and put on her little flat gold pumps, the ones she wore with her jeans.
Then she ran back down to the gun court and found him waiting, still in his kilt, but he’d lost the jacket and waistcoat and tie, the shirt was undone at the neck and he had a wicker hamper in one hand and a blanket over his shoulder.
‘Ready?’ he asked, and she nodded, slipped her hand into his and squeezed it tight, then they went down the worn stone steps to the beach, along the shore with the suck of the sea in the shingle for company, picking their way carefully but hurrying nonetheless because after all this time the suspense was killing them both.
The moon was bright, lighting their way along the familiar path, but Rob led her, turning every now and then to make sure she was all right, helping her up steps, over rocks, round the rough patches.
And when they reached the ruins of the old castle, he led her gently by the hand to their crumbled tower in the corner overlooking the sea, and he spread out the blanket on the ground, knelt down on it and held out his hand to her, drawing her down to him.
She knelt in front of him, just inches away from him, and he took her hand in his, his eyes steady on hers even though she could see a pulse hammering in his neck.
‘I love you, Maisie,’ he began. ‘I’ve loved you since the first moment I saw you, and I wish with all my heart that I’d been able to make things right for you, that I’d had the courage to come and find you, the humility to ask you to have me back, instead of hiding away up here and throwing away so much that was good and precious in our lives. But I didn’t, and I lost you, but I’ve never forgotten you, not for a moment.’
She felt a tear slide down her cheek, and brushed it away, and he lifted his hand and smoothed the last trace from her skin with a hand that wasn’t quite steady.
‘There have been other women,’ he went on softly. ‘Redheads at first, but they weren’t you, so I switched to blondes and brunettes, and then I realised I was cheating all of us, I was sick of pretending, sick of shutting my eyes so I could convince myself it was you, ashamed that I was using women, nice, ordinary, decent women, to forget you. And it didn’t work anyway, so I stopped. It was easier that way, less painful, and it meant I could look at myself in the mirror in the morning when I shaved. But I hated it, because I’d vowed to be faithful to you for the rest of our lives, and we’d thrown it all away.
‘But I want it back, my love. I want you back, and if it means I have to fly down every weekend and divide my time between here and Cambridge to do it, then so be it, because when you went away th
is time, the life went out of the Highlands for me. I got through it, but all I could think about was when you’d be coming back and how long it would be until I could see you again. The castle’s nothing without you, just a pile of rock on the edge of the sea somewhere just shy of the Arctic Circle.’
She smiled at that, but it was a poor effort, a wobbly smile that turned somehow into a tiny sob, and he squeezed her hand and pressed it to his lips. ‘I understood then what you meant about living here without me; I was just getting through the days till you returned, my life suspended. It was like being in a coma, going through the motions, but nothing seemed real—even the wedding preparations hardly scratched the surface. And I began to realise what it must have been like for a young woman, alone, friendless, with a small, demanding baby and no one to turn to, no one to hold you or tell you it would get better. No one to love you.’
‘I thought you loved me,’ she said sadly, confused. ‘But when you came back, you were so different. All I wanted was a hug, but you didn’t come near me.’
‘I was afraid to hurt you, afraid of my emotions. I wanted you so much—I’d been shut up under the sea in a metal tube for months, and the thought of holding you, making love to you again, was all that got me through. And I didn’t trust myself.’
‘You should have said—’
‘We both should have said. It wasn’t just that. Maybe that was just a good excuse. I was really unhappy in the navy, but when I came home and needed you to hold me and tell me I’d get through it, you were so wrapped up in Jenni and so obviously unhappy I just had to bury my own problems and concentrate on yours. But I couldn’t. I wasn’t mature enough to do it, and so I lost you.’
Tears were coursing down her cheeks now, but she just blinked them away. ‘I’m so sorry. I didn’t realise what you were going through. That must have been so awful.’
‘Well, you know the saying, “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger”. I survived it, and it made me a better man, in the end, but the cost, to both of us, to Jenni, just doesn’t bear thinking about. The children we might have had. The time together, for the last twenty years—so much, just gone. And I don’t want to waste any more of our lives, Maisie. I need you. I love you. Come back to me, my love. Marry me again—and this time, let’s do it right.’
Mother of the Bride Page 16
