“Then we’re too late,” Fiona murmured.
“You sound almost relieved,” Alex said in surprise.
Fiona turned her gaze fully upon him. “If the truth be told, I am.”
He showed no astonishment, but his eyes intently focused on her, as though looking deep into her soul. “Might I ask why?”
“Aye,” she responded just as softly. “When first we met at Kennerith, you were just a name, a class o’ people I’d been taught to dislike, and I was bitter about other things as well. But during our journey, you’ve become a person t’ me. One I greatly admire.” Fiona tried to keep her words blithe, yet her heart pounded madly at the light that entered his eyes. “To be sure, if Beaufort be anything like you are, Dr. Spencer, then Gwynneth couldna have made too horrid a match.”
“Miss Galbraith, if you’ll permit me to speak?” Alex seemed suddenly flustered, searching for words. When he took hold of her hands, Fiona forgot to breathe. “Before setting out for Scotland, I never dreamed I would find a woman I might grow to love, if that is indeed what this emotion is. All I know is that I desire to spend each moment in your presence, to walk by your side and learn of all that interests you, to never refrain from looking into your lovely silver eyes….”
“I can marry ye this moment, if ye so desire,” the elderly man suddenly said, reminding the two of his presence. “If ye have no ring, I can provide one as well.”
Heat bathed Fiona’s face, and her heart sped up with nervous expectancy. Her hands grew slick in his, but Alex didn’t release his hold. This was so sudden, but it was what she wanted. To marry this man. It was as though the reason for her existence, for God putting her on this earth, instantly became clear to her. She was to become Alex’s wife and bear his children.
“No,” Alex said, never breaking eye contact with her.
“No?” Fiona repeated, her dreams spiraling to dust.
The elderly man tsk-tsked and left the parlor, leaving the two alone.
“My dearest Fiona—if you’ll allow me to take the liberty of addressing you as such?”
Fiona nodded, confused.
“The love I have for you seems quite real to me at this moment. However, this swift change regarding our feelings toward one another should be tested with time. Before engaging in the holy institution of marriage—and it is a wondrous and holy institution—I feel we should spend time getting to know one another. I shall make it a priority to visit Scotland whenever possible. In time, if we should decide to marry, I would rather the wedding take place in a church, before God, with a true minister presiding, and with our families’ blessings. Rather than on the sly, in the front parlor of an inn, with an ex-peddler speaking the vows—and against our families’ wishes.” He tightened his grasp. “Do you understand, my dearest Fiona?”
“Aye.” Her earlier disappointment evaporated, and she smiled. “I’ve always wanted to marry in the castle chapel at Kennerith and have the reception in the rose garden there.”
Alex grinned. “I’m anxious to see these famous MacMurray roses. Perhaps when I escort you home, you’ll show them to me?”
The awareness that he would be returning with her to Kennerith made her smile all the wider. “Aye, that I will. It willna take you long to win o’er my grandmother. She never would have allowed someone she didna trust t’ take her beloved horse. And my grandfather is no longer mindful of his surroundings, so ye’ll have no problem with him. But what about your father? Will he come to accept me? Or Gwynneth, for that matter?”
Alex sobered. “I’ll talk to him. It may take some time, but I’m convinced that my father eventually will realize what wonderful additions the Galbraith sisters will make to our family. He’s an intelligent man.”
Fiona laughed. “I once thought myself the same, but this past week I’ve come t’ ken that I’ve much to learn.”
“You’re one of the most remarkable women I’ve ever met.” Alex’s expression softened, and he raised her hands to his lips and kissed them. “Shall we see about acquiring two rooms and then go in search of a meal? Before they leave, I have a sudden desire to wish my brother a hearty congratulations and your sister the best of wishes!”
Epilogue
In the midst of the castle chapel, decorated with an abundance of sunset-colored roses, Alex kissed his new bride. At the warmth of his lips on hers, the strength of his embrace, Fiona’s heart beat with wonder that her beloved Alex was now her husband. She felt brighter than the streams of sunbeams that shone down at them from one of five stained-glass windows, encasing them and the Scottish minister in an aura of jewel-toned light.
Pulling away, she smiled and looked into Alex’s blue-gray eyes with their familiar sparkle. She could never doubt his love; it shone from his eyes. He took hold of her hand, and together they moved to accept their families’ blessings.
As Fiona predicted, her grandmother hadn’t greatly argued the point that Fiona loved an Englishman. The fact that King George IV had visited Scotland during the same year Fiona first met Alex and they had embarked on their journey together had helped matters. It was said the English king had appeared in a kilt, and Fiona knew, thanks to the author Sir Walter Scott, that Highland dress and customs had been embraced by many of the British, even romanticized.
Alex and Fiona’s courtship was more wonderful than Fiona dared dream. On the occasions Alex had visited the castle, he and Fiona climbed mountains, rode horses, and fell more deeply in love. The most amazing thing was that the twitching in Fiona’s eye disappeared. She hadn’t had an episode in months. Yet even if the affliction were to return, and Alex’s uncle wasn’t able to treat her successfully, Fiona was confident that her new husband would never cease to love her.
Gwynneth moved forward to hug Fiona. “I’m so happy for you,” she said. “And so glad that you’ll come to live at Darrencourt.”
“I’ll miss this castle and our grandparents,” Fiona admitted, “but Alex assured me that we’ll visit every summer. I canna explain it. I never thought anything would entice me to leave these mountains, but I look forward to living at Darrencourt. I canna imagine a life without Alex.”
“Aye. ’Tis the same way I feel about Beaufort.”
“I scarcely can believe it! Both of us married—and to Englishmen as well!”
They laughed, and Gwynneth glowed from the promise of the child she carried within her. Fiona was pleased that she would soon be an aunt and relieved for Gwynneth, whose first months at Darrencourt had been difficult. Beaufort’s father hadn’t disowned him, as he’d threatened, but he’d had nothing to do with Gwynneth at first and avoided her presence. Beaufort’s mother, dismayed but resigned to Beaufort’s choice of a bride, had insisted they properly marry in the Church of England, and they had honored her wish. As the months passed, both Spencers came to see what a delightful and polite girl Gwynneth was and apologized for wrongly judging her. Their acceptance of Gwynneth made Alex’s announcement of his own impending marriage to Fiona easier to accept.
Gwynneth pulled away, brushing the wrinkles from the shoulders of Fiona’s best gown of shimmering emerald green. Beaufort stepped forward to hug his new sister-in-law. “You’re perfect for my brother. I’m confident after meeting you that Alex has found a woman who’ll stand up to him and not always let him have his way.” He directed an amused grin toward Alex.
“Shall we move to the garden?” Alex asked, his color heightened at his brother’s ribbing.
Fiona slipped her arm through his. “Aye. I have yet to give you your gift.”
They walked into the spacious garden, fragrant with MacMurray roses. So many of the orange-red roses still grew on the vines that the absence of the ones Fiona used to decorate the chapel didn’t show.
“Sit ye doon,” Fiona instructed, her hands impatiently going to Alex’s shoulders to seat him in one of two chairs that stood by a table off to the side. Agatha had helped her move the furniture into the garden that morning.
Alex chuckled. “My, I am in
trigued by what has my new wife so flustered.”
“Hush now,” Fiona said with a smile. She nodded toward her cousin, and he lifted his bagpipes to his mouth. Soon the wheezing wail of pipes erupted into a carefree jig. Two of her cousins began to dance in the center clearing, and others quickly joined in. Fiona was surprised to see Alex’s father, Lord Spencer, attempt a turn beside her grandmother, though Lady Spencer only looked on with a smile. Caught up in the music and dancing, no one paid attention to Fiona or Alex, which suited Fiona just fine.
Agatha walked toward them, bearing a platter with a very English-looking tea set and a platter of small cakes, then left. At the curious lift of Alex’s brow, Fiona smiled, poured liquid from the pot into a cup, and set it before him.
“I once told you that ye’ll not be findin’ English tea at Kennerith Castle,” Fiona explained. “At the time, false pride led me t’ believe that English tea and bagpipes didna mix—I even told others so. Well, I was wrong. Please accept this gesture as a token of my love.”
“Fiona,” he breathed and grabbed her hand, pulling her down to his lap.
“Alex!” she protested with a laugh. “What’s gotten into ye?”
“Perhaps it’s this wild Highland air or the realization that the woman I adore is truly my wife. I don’t know. But I doubt there’s a man alive who’s as happy as I am at this moment.” He kissed her until Fiona forgot about all else but him.
When he pulled away, his gaze sheepishly went to the dancing guests as though just remembering their existence. “Perhaps we should save this for later. If Mother were to see us, she would be scandalized—even if this is my wedding and the woman I hold is my wife.”
Fiona laughed and cupped his face with her palms, brushing her lips over his once more. “Aye, Alex. I do love ye so.” Smiling, she stood and took hold of his hands. “Come, and I’ll teach you a Highland jig. Later, we’ll drink our tea, when we’re alone together.”
He allowed her to pull him up. “Mrs. Spencer,” he whispered near her ear before taking her arm to escort her to the dancing. “I must confess I eagerly await that moment.”
Fiona shared a secret smile with her Englishman.
To be sure, so did she.
Inspirational romance writer BONNIE BLYTHE is a native of Oregon. Bonnie brings faith and passions to the edge of intrigue in her powerful novels, such as “Masquerade”. Blythe says her novels illustrate that, “God is the author of romance.”
PAMELA GRIFFIN lives in Texas with her family. She fully gave her life to Christ in 1988 after a rebellious young adulthood and owes the fact that she’s still alive today to an all-loving and forgiving God and to a mother who steadfastly prayed and had faith that God could bring her wayward daughter “home.” Pamela’s main goal in writing Christian romance is to help and encourage those who do know the Lord and to plant a seed of hope in those who don’t.
KELLY EILEEN HAKE received her first writing contract at the tender age of seventeen and arranged to wait three months until she was able to legally sign it. Since that first contract a decade ago, she’s fulfilled twenty contracts ranging from short stories to novels. In her spare time, she’s attained her BA in English Literature and Composition, earned her credential to teach English in secondary schools, and went on to complete her MA in Writing Popular Fiction.
GAIL GAYMER MARTIN, multi-award–winning author, has been blessed with 52 published novels and nearly 4 million books in print. CBS local news listed Gail as one of the four best writers in the Detroit area. She is the author of Writing the Christian Romance from Writers Digest. Gail is a cofounder of American Christian Fiction Writers and a member of numerous other professional writing and speaking organizations. In her earlier professional career, Gail was a teacher of English, literature, and public speaking at the high school and university levels and still enjoys teaching workshops at conferences across the US. She lives in Detroit, Michigan, northwest suburb with her husband and is active in her church, especially in the music program. Visit her website at www.gailgaymermartin.com.
TAMELA HANCOCK MURRAY lives in Northern Virginia with her two daughters and her husband of over twenty years. She keeps busy with church and school activities, but in her spare-time she’s written seven Bible trivia books and twenty Christian romance novels and novellas.
JILL STENGL is the author of numerous romance novels including Inspirational Reader’s Choice Award- and Carol Award-winning Faithful Traitor. She lives with her husband in the beautiful Northwoods of Wisconsin, where she enjoys spoiling her three cats, teaching a high school literature class, playing keyboard for her church family, and sipping coffee on the deck as she brainstorms for her next novel. Be sure to check out her blog, www.jillstengl.blogspot.com, for information about her books.
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