Jessie's heart melted with Torrin's confession.
"I know you will," Dirk said, smiling. "Would you like me to draw up a contract?"
"Indeed. You can use my official chamber if you wish. You'll find paper, ink and anything you might need on the desk. Iain can show you where it is. We've decided that tomorrow is the day."
"That soon?"
"Aye. I've waited long enough to make this lady my wife."
"I'll set to work right away on the marriage contract, then." Dirk grinned. "Congratulations to you both. I've been hoping Jessie would finally get past her stubborn streak and marry you." He left the room.
"I wasn't being stubborn," Jessie muttered when she was alone with Torrin again.
"Call it what you will." Torrin smirked. "I agree with Dirk; you were stubborn."
Much to Jessie's annoyance, Torrin walked around the bed twice more that day. He assured her each time 'twas a bit easier, but she could not tell this by his horrid grimaces, curses and groans.
That night, Jessie slept in the guest chamber the servants had prepared for her. Several women of the clan insisted 'twould be for the best, for they should not see each other before the wedding. Flora slept on the pallet in Torrin's room, should he need anything.
A knock sounded at the door, waking Jessie. Morning sunlight streamed through the narrow window. Had she overslept?
She leapt up and the nausea struck her. She quickly found the empty chamber pot and retched into it. Flora rushed in. "Och! M'lady, I'm so sorry."
"'Tis all right." She arose and rinsed her mouth with the watered down wine from the jug on her bedside table.
"Laird MacLeod is all dressed and ready."
"What? This early?"
"Aye. Woke me at the crack of dawn, he did, insisting on a bath in the tub. His manservant came in and helped him dress in his finest plaid and doublet. He's a right handsome sight." She grinned.
"'Twill take me a wee bit to get ready," Jessie said, the nausea still tormenting her, though not as bad as before.
"I'll tell him to be patient, and then I'll send in the maids. I brought you two bannocks to help settle your stomach." She set a plate on the bedside table.
"I thank you."
While she ate, a crew of servants brought in a tub and filled it with buckets of hot water. It had been a while since she'd had anything more than a sponge bath. 'Twould feel heavenly to sink into that warm water.
An hour later, she was squeaky clean from her head to her toes, and dressed in a fine royal-blue gown she'd brought. When she'd packed it, she'd had no inkling she would be using it as her wedding dress… or did she? Why else would she bring her best gown?
Dolina braided sections of her drying hair and created a lovely hairstyle where some of her wavy hair remained down on her shoulders. She thought Torrin would like it this way.
"Och!" Flora exclaimed upon entering the room. "How lovely you look, m'lady!"
Jessie smiled. "I thank you, Flora."
"Are you feeling better?"
"Aye. Where is Torrin?"
"He's in the great hall with the rest of the men. They're all dressed in their finest."
Jessie's mouth dropped open. "Did he walk down there?"
"Aye, with the help of Iain and a walking stick."
Jessie shook her head, unable to believe how eager he was, and how much improvement he'd shown since yesterday.
She was eager, too, for she would soon be Torrin's wife.
***
Sitting in the great hall, Torrin kept glancing at the doorway leading to the staircase, hoping each time to see Jessie.
'Twas unfortunate that it was too early in the day to drink whisky. He could use a dram to take the edge off the sharp ache in his leg. But more, he needed to be fully himself when Jessie walked down those steps, and when he said his vows. He could endure a bit more pain in order to see his dreams come true.
His clan was happy that he was finally marrying, and that he was recovering. Each of them had congratulated him that morn when he'd entered the great hall. Female servants had decorated the large room with flowers and greenery, but mostly with sweet-smelling heather, which he knew Jessie would love. Musicians were playing various ballads from the elevated alcove at the opposite end of the great hall. Dirk, Keegan, Conall, Iain, and several more men sat at the high table, talking and drinking ale.
Torrin and Dirk had already signed the marriage contract. He truly did not care about the land in her dowry—he would've been just as happy without it—but it would benefit the clan, for they could grow more crops.
Dirk had already decided that he, Keegan and several others would leave the next morn for Dunnakeil, but a half dozen of the MacKays would stay until Torrin was able to travel south in a few weeks to find Nolan's grave.
"Women are hellishly slow when getting ready for their weddings," Dirk said, giving Torrin a sympathetic look.
Torrin nodded. "I remember, last winter, when you were awaiting Isobel." Dirk had been fidgety, pacing back and forth. Torrin felt like pacing, but couldn't at the moment. He had to save his strength for the wedding itself, which would be held here in the great hall instead of the chapel. This room was bigger; the whole clan and several villagers could attend, and he wouldn't have to walk down more steps.
"The waiting was torture," Dirk admitted.
"Mayhap you could go hurry her along a bit," Torrin suggested hopefully.
Dirk grinned and stood. "I'll try." He headed up the stairs.
A few minutes later, Flora emerged from the stairwell and whispered in Iain's ear. He grinned and stood. "'Tis time," he said to Torrin, while Flora ran back toward the stairs.
His heart pounding with excitement, Torrin pushed up from his chair and, using his walking stick, limped toward the area in front of the decorated fireplace where the wedding was to take place. He ground his teeth, determined to ignore the stabbing pains in his leg. Reverend MacPherson joined him and Iain.
Dirk emerged from the narrow stairwell, stepped aside, and Jessie appeared next. Saints, she was more beautiful than Torrin had ever seen her. Her fiery hair was down upon her shoulders, and the braids woven through with wee flowers. The blue gown hugged her slender curves. Again, he was overjoyed that she carried his bairn, though no one would guess by looking at her.
Her bright blue eyes held his, her love written clearly on her face, as her brother escorted her toward them. When she took his hand, she smiled, tears welling in her eyes.
"Don't cry," he whispered quiet as a breath. Because if she cried, he might be tempted to do so himself. And a chief simply couldn't cry before his clan.
He kissed her hand, then held it while Reverend MacPherson began the ceremony. Torrin heard a word here and there, enough to know that 'twas indeed a marriage ceremony, but the main focus of his attention was Jessie. She nervously glanced at him from time to time.
"You are blood of my blood, and bone of my bone. I give you my body, that we two might be one. I give you my spirit, 'til our life shall be done." Looking into her eyes, he repeated the rest of the vow after the minister.
As she said her vows, he listened to every word. Though 'twas the standard Gaelic vows, he knew she meant them with all her heart.
When it was time for the ring, he pulled the circle of gold from his sporran. He'd had it specially made for Jessie in the spring, when he'd become determined that he would marry her. The gold band was encrusted with several sapphires, rubies, and emeralds.
When he slid it onto her finger, she gasped, her eyes widening. 'Twas indeed a lovely ring that reminded him of her colorful beauty.
"With this ring, I thee wed," Torrin said. "With my body, I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods, I thee endow, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen."
Jessie smiled and tears glistened in her eyes.
"Chief MacLeod, you may kiss your bride to seal the vows," the minister announced.
Finally, they were married. Torrin
smiled and leaned down to kiss Jessie. Her lips were warm, sweet and welcoming beneath his.
A cheer went up loud enough to rattle the rafters. Jessie pulled back and laughed. Grinning, he pulled her close and kissed her again.
"You'll have to heal quickly, Chief, if you're to give your bride a proper wedding night," Struan said, giving rise to lots of laughter from the rest of the men.
Torrin grinned, knowing a secret they didn't. Jessie didn't mind doing some of the work. "Don't you worry about that. She'll enjoy the wedding night."
Epilogue
Munrick Castle, April, 1620
Jessie held their newborn babe, wee Liam, in her arms. He'd just finished eating and was snoozing peacefully, his tiny hand clasped around her finger.
"He's such a strong and fine-looking lad, Jessie," Torrin whispered, sitting beside her on the padded settle near the fireplace in their bedchamber, while a spring snowstorm raged outside. Torrin slid his arm around her and kissed her cheek.
She nodded. "He is. He favors his father, you ken." 'Twas true; the babe had Torrin's dark hair and green eyes and most of his features. Jessie was thankful that Torrin had healed from all of his injuries and was now as strong as he had been before. He trained with the other men most every day, when the weather permitted.
"Our next one will look exactly like you, with beautiful flaming red hair and sky blue eyes," he said.
"Mayhap." She smiled, imagining a wee lad or lass who resembled her, but if they all looked like Torrin, she would be just as thrilled and grateful.
Dirk and Isobel had sent a missive a few weeks before, saying that their babe had been born and 'twas a healthy lad. Keegan's and Seona's bairn had been born four days afterward, a beautiful lass. Jessie couldn't wait until the summer when she could see them all again.
Greum got up from where he'd been sleeping by the hearth and padded closer. The pup had grown by leaps and bounds since last summer and was now near up to Jessie's waist. Greum sniffed the babe's head, then gave Jessie a look filled with doggie love.
"I know you love him, too, Greum. Don't you?"
He sat back on his haunches, panting, his long pink tongue lolling and a grin on his furry lips.
"He can't wait to play with the lad," Torrin said.
"'Twill be a while. He's ten times bigger than Liam."
Torrin chuckled. "In a year or two, he'll be trying to ride Greum like a horse."
Jessie laughed at that image, though not too loudly, for she didn't want to wake the babe.
After their laughter had quieted into a comfortable silence, Torrin asked, "Do you ken how happy you make me?"
Taking in his delighted and proud expression, she realized once again that her dreams had come true. Tears filled her eyes. "Not as happy as you make me," she said.
"Och. Far happier." He leaned close and kissed her. "I love you."
"And I love you."
***
Please look for My Rebel Highlander (Rebbie's story) coming in 2014.
***
The Highland Adventure Series
My Fierce Highlander (Alasdair and Gwyneth)
My Wild Highlander (Lachlan and Angelique)
My Brave Highlander (Dirk and Isobel)
My Daring Highlander (Keegan and Seona)
My Notorious Highlander (Torrin and Jessie)
About the author
Vonda Sinclair’s favorite indulgent pastime is exploring Scotland, from Edinburgh to the untamed and windblown north coast. She also enjoys creating hot, Highland heroes and spirited lasses to drive them mad. Her books have won an EPIC Award and a National Readers' Choice Award. She lives with her amazing and supportive husband in the mountains of North Carolina where she is no doubt creating another Scottish story. Please visit her website to learn more.
http://www.vondasinclair.com
Author's Note
Donald McMurdo was a real highwayman and assassin who resided in Durness. He died in 1623 and was buried in Balnakeil Church.
My Notorious Highlander (Highland Adventure 5) Page 26
