Bedded by the Laird (Highland Warriors)

by Rachael Kennedy

‘Are you happy, Bridie?’ The Laird asked and it would be so easy to cry and say no, to beg to come home, but she was a strong Scottish lassie and instead she smiled.

  ‘I’m determined to be, Laird and I want you to be too.’

  As Bridie thanked him for the dance she meant every word

  And she sat and watched as he spoke with lairds and danced with far more suitable ladies and though she wished it would soon be over, that the torture would soon end, she knew she could survive it.

  ‘If you were the most graceful here it could still never happen.’ May’s attempts to be kind twisted the knife. ‘Your brother would never agree and anyway, the laird would not want to offend the other lairds…’

  ‘I know that.’

  She did. These alliances were too important to be forged from the heart and when the room stood, so to did she and she watched as he picked up the sash, the one he had caught her dancing with on the night of her first kiss and he walked towards Lady Helena who stood just to her side and she closed her eyes at the agony.

  ‘Lady Bridgette of Glenbarach.’ She opened her eyes to his voice, to her new name… to him. To the man who did not need now to save her. ‘Would you do me the honour of wearing my sash?’ And her eyes flew then to her brother’s and Peter gave a small nod.

  ‘I’ve spoken with Peter.’

  ‘Laird…’She knew the damage this could do, had heard the shocked gasp from Lady Helena, could feel the tension building in the room as to the Laird’s most unsuitable choice. ‘You don’t have to do this…’

  ‘I want to, though.’ And he placed the sash over her shoulders, where it belonged, for she’d been wrapped in his plaid when she’d nursed Gracie and had worn it again in her dreams.

  ‘Do you know what diplomacy means, Bridie?’ He said to her ear.

  ‘Not a clue.’

  ‘I’ll explain later…’ she looked into his eyes and then to his mouth and there was the hint of that smile he shared only with her. ‘Trust me,’ he said, ‘and at the same time dinnae believe a word I am about to say, for you have my heart.’

  And he turned and faced the stunned ballroom.

  ‘I always said I would marry for McClelland.’ The Laird faced the shocked, angry silence ‘And believe me that’s a hard thing for a man to commit to with so many bonny lassies in the room.’ No, one smiled, no one moved, and Alasdair spoke on. ‘Times are changing for Scotland - Wallace and Moray are uniting their forces, the Highlands and Lowlands are fighting as one.

  ‘At the Battle of Stirling Bridge there was an injured Glenbarach on the battle field and, for the first time in memory, there was a Glenbarach Clan member in our castle. It would never have happened before, our forefathers would be turning in the graves, but the Glenbarach warrior was a Scottish solider too, which meant I was not going to leave him behind.’ And the room started to murmur in agreement as the Laird stirred them on. ‘Right now, the Glenbarachs and McClellands need to be strong, need to cast aside our differences and pool our resources if we are to stand strong and defeat the English…’ And Bridie stood, smiling on the inside as she learnt the meaning of the word diplomacy, as he basically told the room the reluctance in his decision - how there were far more beautiful ladies he might have chosen, far more sensible choices that might have been made if he were thinking only of McClelland. ‘And so, I choose my bride, not just for the good of McClelland – instead I marry for the good of Scotland – for the more we unite, the worse for the English.’

  He held out his hand to the bride he had, for the good of his country, chosen and the room roared a cheer of approval.

  ‘I’m sorry you’ve had to make such a sacrifice,’ Bridie teased, for she was glowing inside.

  ‘Aye, what a man has to do for his country.’

  ‘What a burden I am.’

  ‘Never a burden Bridie, yours and Gracie’s home is with me, I told you that.’

  ‘You did.’

  ‘And tonight….’ He held her closer. ‘I’ll tell you again.’

  ‘You won’t, Laird,’ Bridie said. ‘For I’ll not be in your bed till our wedding night.’

  ‘Bridie please…’ He grabbed her wrist as she went to go and spun her back to him.

  ‘Oh no, Laird…’ She smiled that wanton smile, her eyes glittering as she looked up at him, as she ensured a very speeding wedding. ‘You were the one who said that you had to marry a proper Lady.’

  She looked down to where he gripped her wrist and with a smile on his face he released it.

  ‘Peter,’ she said sweetly to her brother. ‘Will you take me back to Glenbarach?’

  Chapter Fourteen

  ‘I never thought I’d see this day…’ Laird Peter’s voice was gruff as she took his arm and they walked towards the McClelland Castle Church.

  ‘Aye, me neither,’ Bridie said holding wee Gracie’s hand and readying herself to walk down the aisle ‘Are you having second thoughts, Peter?’

  She saw his reluctant smile at her tease – Laird Peter didn’t intimidate her, he was her brother and Bridie never thought she would have one and wasn’t going to waste time in fear when enough time had been lost already.

  ‘I had second thoughts the moment your man suggested it.’ He looked to his sister. ‘Are you having second thoughts Bridgette?’

  ‘None.’

  She’d had three weeks to prepare for the day, the banns had been read and she’d not seen the Laird since the night of the ball.

  Her skin had been painted in lemon juice every day, not that her freckles had faded and her hair had been soaked in oil so it would gleam when it was washed out. Her rich purple dress had been made from the finest silk and for all the preparations Bridie had had but one request, for she knew what she wanted embroidered.

  Alasdair stood proud in his kilt one hand at his back, his fist clenched in tension as he forced himself not to look around.

  But then he did so.

  There was Bridie, smiling as she walked up to him, her glorious hair worn down and dotted through out with flowers and he would love her for the rest of his life. She was born to be his, Alasdair knew.

  Had been left by the McClelland Burn for a reason.

  Carrying Gracie, Bridie walked towards him then handed her over to Mary, who, along with Donalda, was a bridesmaid. She smiled to Mrs Moffat who was not sweating in the kitchen today, she was at the front of the church, for she was also Bridie’s family.

  ‘You’ll not be needing whisky tonight,’ Mary smiled as she took Gracie and Bridie blushed, and then blushed some more as she walked towards her handsome groom.

  Alasdair looked at her face and he smiled and then looked down to the tiny snow drops embroidered on her dress and his heart was fit to burst. He watched as her eyes filled with tears- for on his jacket he wore a feather. One that was black and white with sandy ends, for he had kept the feather she had given him that day. Bridie wanted to wanted to reach out and touch it and so she did. Remembered then that morning before her innocence was taken, tender first love stirring as she’d watched him sleep, and now she would be beside him forever.

  The Priest took their hands and joined them. Wrapped them in a strip of McClelland plaid and then a strip of the earthy brown and moss green Glenbarach plaid was wrapped around too and the Priest tied the knot that would forever now unite them.

  They walked from the church as husband and wife and were piped all the way to the Grand Room. There was a feast and a party to be had as only the Scots can. Bridie soon forgot to be a lady, for she was dancing and whooping and twirling with the laird and between dances she was amongst her family and friends

  ‘Ignore Angus…’ It was Bridie giving Mary advice this time. ‘Dance with a Glenbarach…’ she teased. ‘It will drive him wild.’

  It did.

  But in some instances the Glenbarachs did stick together, though not in a way Laird Peter would approve.

  ‘Donalda!’ Bridie’s eye were wide as her sister told her mid celebrations that she’d ha
d not just her first dance but her first kiss with Hamish, the Glenbarach War Chief.

  ‘Oh Bridgette, he couldn’t take his hands off me…’ Donalda said, her eyes shining. ‘They were everywhere!’ She gave a shiver of delight. ‘He’s so big and manly. Do you know what he said?’

  ‘Tell me.’

  ‘He said the lairds don’t know what they’re missing out on, for I’m magnificent.’

  She was indeed, and so too was the night. There were whoops and yelps and battles were forgotten, resentments on hold, even dour May was smiling.

  As the night drew to it’s close the laird took her in his arms.

  ‘Away to bed.’ Alasdair said.

  ‘Away to bed yourself.’

  He carried her up the castle steps.

  ‘This time you’re moving in for good.’

  He kicked the door open and the staff had been busy for the fire was burning and there was warm mead made with Scottish heather honey in goblets by the bed. They fed it to each other as they would every night for a month now. Then slowly, with a tenderness only Bridie knew the laird possessed, he undressed her. He placed her on his bed he kissed her everywhere. Kissed her till she was sobbing his name, till she could take it no more, till her heart fell again and finally she felt his beat within, as now and forever more, she was bedded by the Laird.

  XXX