Highlander’s Unexpected Love: A Medieval Scottish Historical Highland Romance Book

by Adams, Alisa

"Kenny," Heather said, relieved, "we were trying to find you to say goodbye."

  "So soon?" He sounded disappointed.

  "I have a bad headache," she lied, "too many people here! And I should never have urged Bruce to do that. He did not want to."

  "You were wonderful," Arlene said warmly, "I should make him sing me to sleep every night. Heather, may I call on you?"

  "Of course!" Heather was delighted, "I will look forward to it very much."

  There was a chorus of goodnights, then they were in their carriage on the way home. Bruce was uncharacteristically silent.

  "Are you angry?" Heather asked tentatively, "you look as though you are."

  He was silent for a moment longer then he let out a deep, explosive breath. "I felt so daft oot there, Heather," them wae a' their posh ways o' talkin' an me speakin' like a-a—"

  "Blacksmith?" Heather supplied, turning his head around to face her. "Now listen to me, Bruce Ferguson. The only person whose opinion you have to worry about is mine, and I am not ashamed of you. I was so proud tonight I could have burst. Your voice is music to my ears, it's so lovely and gravelly and deep, and you sing like an angel. So, stop feeling sorry for yourself and kiss me."

  So, he did, deeply and hungrily.

  "Now," he whispered, "ye have upset me, so ye will hae to say sorry."

  Heather looked at him warily. "How?" she asked.

  He whispered something in her ear to make sure that the coach driver could not hear.

  "I'm shocked," she answered, laughing.

  Bruce rubbed his hands together gleefully. "Good!" He said approvingly.

  Bruce had decided that he was going to build a wall and start a garden around the schoolhouse. He had a willing partner in James and the two immediately set about pacing around the building, measuring and drawing up plans. One thing led to another and more plans were soon afoot to build swings, a slide, and a tree house. Heather could see another castle being built in the future. She was glad that Bruce had something to divert his mind now since much of her spare time was being devoted to the planning of Jessica and Dougie's wedding.

  She had concluded that her pregnancy had been nothing more than wishful thinking. Her monthly flux had come and gone a few days late and was not as heavy as usual, but it was enough to convince her that she had been mistaken. She felt a mild disappointment but consoled herself with the fact that there had never been a baby there anyway, just the notion of one. They could and would keep on trying, and that was a definite pleasure!

  The village seamstress had soon made up the wedding dress in lavender silk since lavender was Jessica's favorite color and suited her well. Her two witnesses were to be Bruce and Heather, and the marriage ceremony itself was to be performed by a friend of John McFarlane's, the Reverend Angus MacFadyen, who was famous in the district for his hugely joyous and entertaining wedding ceremonies.

  The entire village was invited and there was to be the ceilidh of all ceilidhs afterward 'with enough eats tae sink a battleship' as the cook said rather huffily. She was not looking forward to all the extra work, but it was a joyful occasion, and the bride and groom were two of her favorite people, so she smiled and got on with it.

  The ladies' party was anything but a sedate and ladylike affair with much tea and sherry, dainty cakes, biscuits and a lot of very unladylike storytelling and gossip. Jessica, Lily, Senga, Sadie, Bruce's mother Nora, Heather, her maid Agnes, and Lady Katrine were all there. Since many of the tales revolved around the married ladies' wedding nights Jessica was both embarrassed and terrified.

  "Don't worry," Heather consoled her as she went home, "they are making most of it up."

  "God help me if they're not!" Jessica said fearfully.

  If the ladies' party was not exactly polite, at least it was relatively quiet. The men's one was anything but quiet! Whereas the ladies had a small group of eight, Dougie's stag party had friends from his new employer, his old employer, and his family, as well as the rest of the men in the village who tagged along and joined enthusiastically in the drunken serenade of the groom.

  Dougie was being borne down on the shoulders of the men in the procession who gradually passed him down to the front where Bruce, who was the biggest man there, picked him up and slung him over this shoulder.

  Then he carried Dougie to the back and deposited him on the shoulder of one of the men at the rear to start the whole process again. Since every man had brought his own alcohol the hundred or so participants were thoroughly inebriated by the time they got to the riverbank. Dougie screamed when he saw what was in store for him.

  "Naw!" he cried, but this only caused a storm of laughter and a hundred ribald comments.

  They set him down and tipped a measure of whiskey down his unwilling throat then stripped him naked till he was standing, shivering on the bank.

  "A' right, Dougie," Bruce grinned, "ye knaw whit tae dae. Get it ower wi'!"

  Bruce watched as Dougie, with obvious dread, stepped into the fast flowing and freezing River Gar. He screamed again as soon as his feet touched the water, then waded into midstream till the water was as high as his waist.

  "A' the way, lad!" the men shouted, "get yer heid wet!"

  Dougie groaned, took a deep breath and plunged his head under the water. He came straight back up again and headed for the bank, where Bruce, in his infinite mercy, dried him off briskly with a towel and wrapped him in a blanket. Dougie was lucky that Bruce was kind and it was not winter.

  Privately, Bruce was thanking his stars for his own modest wedding. At least he had been spared this. They had celebrated both the stag and the hen parties two nights before the wedding on purpose because everyone knew bridegrooms who had been so sick at their own weddings that they could hardly mouth the vows.

  At least he had spared Dougie from the ultimate humiliation: being tied naked to a tree outside his house and left till morning! Being a Laird had some privileges, he reflected, as he carried Dougie up to his bed in the Manse. Being the biggest always made Bruce the right man for the job when it came to lifting heavy things - and people.

  Bruce slung Dougie into bed that night, where he slept for fourteen hours, waking the next morning with the hangover from hell.

  46

  The Wedding

  On the night before the wedding, Jessica had to take a sleeping draught because she was almost too nervous to sleep. Heather tucked her into bed like a child and sat with her while she drifted off.

  "Heather," she whispered, "am I doing the right thing?"

  "Only you know that," Heather answered, "but we all ask ourselves the same question, so I think you are quite safe. You love Dougie, don't you?"

  "With all my heart," Jessica said drowsily.

  "Then there is your answer," Heather said and kissed her friend's cheek. "Goodnight," she whispered.

  Jessica answered with a gentle snore and Heather laughed softly then tiptoed out.

  Churches in Scotland were not usually decorated for a wedding, but for the minister's son and his bride an exception had been made, albeit a modest one, with garlands of wildflowers at the edge of every pew.

  Jessica carried a bouquet of the same assortment of wildflowers with a sprig of lucky white heather tucked into it. Heather had read Jessica the legend concerning the rare white heather's good luck symbolism.

  "I was named after it." She smiled. "The legend is that Malvina, who was the daughter of the famous poet Ossian, was engaged to a heroic Celtic warrior called Oscar. She was distraught when he died in battle, but he sent her a sprig of purple heather as a sign of his eternal love. When she wept over it her tears turned the flowers white. Now, you might regard that as a symbol of sorrow, but Malvina bequeathed it to posterity as a symbol of good fortune, therefore turning bad luck into good luck."

  "What a lovely, romantic story," Jessica said. She smiled radiantly as Agnes threaded the last few daisies into her hair, then she turned and faced Heather. "How do I look?" she asked.

  "Like a princess
," Heather said rapturously, "no—like a queen!"

  Katrine, who had come to wish her good luck, added another sprig of white heather to her bouquet. She looked gorgeous in a plain high necked rust colored dress that was the exact color of her hair, with her only ornamentation being a small golden crucifix at her neck.

  "No," she said softly, "because they are rich and cosseted their whole life, but a bride is like a shooting star. All her glory and radiance are squeezed into a small space of time, but she is so beautiful that no-one who sees her ever forgets her. Today is your turn to be a shooting star, Jessica—so go and shine, my dear."

  When Bruce appeared at the door ready to give Jessica away, looking as devastatingly handsome as ever, Jessica had to tilt her neck up to look at him. He smiled at her.

  "Ready?" he asked, offering her his arm.

  Jessica took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and nodded.

  "Dinnae worry, hen," he said fondly, "it doesnae hurt!"

  They went slowly down the aisle so that everyone could see the bride's dress and look at her radiant face. Dougie was standing with his best man, his brother Stuart, and his amber eyes were lit with love as he looked at his bride.

  The minister asked, "Who gives this woman to be married?"

  Bruce said, "I do." Then he took Jessica's hand, put it in Dougie's, and clasped them both together. His part of the ceremony was over. Heather took the bridal bouquet and held it while the espoused couple exchanged the marriage vows.

  Minister McFadyen practically cheered the words as he shouted, "I now pronounce them husband and wife!" And when he announced to Dougie, "you may now kiss your bride!" He almost pushed them into each other’s arms. The congregation, entering into the spirit of the festive occasion, stood up, clapped and laughed. They had totally forgotten that it was a solemn occasion and that Bruce and Heather had yet to be blessed.

  They were left alone with Minister McFadyen, James, Katrine, Tam and Nora, but strangely enough, all of them preferred it that way. As the Minister intoned the blessing over them, invoking God's goodness, and wishing them happiness, peace prosperity and love, Bruce felt as though his cup was running over. The only thing that was needed now was a child.

  "We forgot your blessing!" Jessica gasped later as they sat down to the wedding feast.

  "We had a wee totie service o' oor ain." Bruce smiled. "Better that way, an' the blessin' is the same size onyway!"

  Jessica laughed and turned to Heather. "I know you told me what to expect," she whispered, "but I am so scared, Heather."

  "We all are the first time," Heather reassured her, "anyway, you can be sure Dougie is too."

  "It's different for a man." She shook her head. "What if I do something wrong?"

  "I promise you, Jessica," Heather went on, "the only way you can do that is to push him away and you will not do that, Mistress McFarlane!"

  Jessica smiled and looked at Dougie, who was taking to his brother Stuart. "Never." She laughed, then frowned. "I wish we could get away. There are too many people here today."

  Just then, one of the children's mothers came up and began a conversation with her, and then the two of them drifted away into another crowd of women. Stuart went to get another drink, and Heather went up to Dougie.

  "Jessica looks lovely," she said, "and you look very handsome, Dougie."

  "Thank ye Heather, but we baith knaw that the groom jist has tae show up!" He laughed, "naebody cares aboot us. An' I dinnae care whit I wear as lang as I hae my Jess."

  "She looks so lovely today." Heather smiled. "She is glowing."

  Dougie went away to talk to Jessica and Heather sat down. The dancing had begun but she was not in the mood and sat staring into space thinking about the non-existent baby. She laughed softly but mirthlessly, wondering why she felt so bad about a tiny thing that had never even existed except in her mind.

  Because it was my gift, she realized suddenly, my gift to the man I love and the only thing that no-one else can give him.

  Just then, Bruce came and sat down beside her. "Ye look tired, lovie," he said quietly, stroking her hair.

  She nodded, her throat thick with tears. Suddenly it was all too much. "I wish I could give you a baby!" she burst out.

  "You will!" he replied, "but bairns come in their ain time, sweetheart. In the meantime, we hae each other an' oor families."

  "My father hates me," she said mutinously.

  "Naw he disnae," Bruce said consolingly, "he is jist bein' a man. Wants everythin' tae go his ain way. He will see sense. Onyway, yer mother an' Jamie still love ye, an' I dae as well."

  "Oh, I hope so." She wiped her eyes. "I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me today." She pinned a smile on her face.

  Bruce frowned at her anxiously. "Better," he said, "but ye're definitely no right, hen."

  She leaned her head on his shoulder. "I'm fine if I have you," she whispered.

  He kissed the top of her head and hugged her, then he threaded his way through the congregation to Jessica. He was worried. First Bridie—not Heather too?

  "Heather is no' very well," he told her, "so we are goin' upstairs so she can rest."

  "Is she alright?" Jessica asked anxiously.

  "Aye, jist a bit tired, I think." He smiled at both Dougie and her, then shook Dougie's hand and kissed Jessica's. "Enjoy the rest of yer wedding day and we both wish ye every happiness. We will see ye tomorrow."

  Dougie and Jessica were going to spend their wedding night in one of the best rooms in the castle before the two married couples, with Katrine and James, went to Fraserburgh the following morning.

  Bruce carried his wife all the way along the passage to their bedroom and put her down gently on the bed before helping her undress and put on her nightgown.

  "Sleeping at five in the afternoon." Heather laughed. "Totally decadent."

  "Totally sensible, pet," he corrected her, "ye're awfy pale. Lie doon an' sleep for a while."

  He pulled the blanket over her then lay down behind her, pushing his face into the scented mass of her hair. When she gradually drifted off to sleep he stood up, watching her peaceful face for a while, then went downstairs to see if he could find Lily or Senga. Seeing them both together, he made straight for them.

  "Ladies." He bowed and smiled at them. "Enjoyin' yersels?"

  "Best weddin' we've been tae in years, son." Senga laughed.

  "I wanted tae ask a question o' ye," Bruce said, frowning. "Aboot Heather."

  "We'll answer if we can, Bruce," Lily replied, "is she a' right?"

  "She is very tired," he replied, "a bit weepy, an' she sometimes cannae look at food she used tae like. Could she be wi' child? Or could she be—well, Bridie started this way."

  The sisters looked at each other.

  "We can only tell ye aboot birthin' problems, son. Whit aboot her flux?" Senga asked.

  "Same as always." He shrugged.

  "Is she sick in the mornin'?"

  "Naw," he replied, "right as rain, in fact it's the best time o' day for her. Aye has been. Loves her breakfast."

  The sisters whispered to each other for a moment.

  "It's hard tae say, son," Lily replied, "I dinnae want tae get yer hopes up but sometimes the flux is still there a wee bit. Keep on watchin' her but dinnae get yer hopes up. I have seen so mony young couples dae that."

  Bruce nodded. His whole face was a mask of disappointment. "No' a word tae Heather," he said firmly, "or onybody else."

  "Widnae dream o' it, son," Senga said, smiling. She clasped his hand and pressed to her cheek. "Come an' see us again if ye notice onything."

  "I will," he smiled, "thank ye both."

  Lily watched him going up the stairs and sighed.

  "I hope for his sake she is wi' child," she said quietly.

  "Aye," Senga agreed, "he will be very sad if she's no'. We must pray, Sister. An' God help Bruce if she turns oot tae have the same thing as Bridie. Poor lass and poor Bruce."

  When Jessica woke up that
morning she knew that she had become someone else. Her body felt different, and she felt free. There would be no more restraints, no more withdrawal just when they wanted to vent their passion for each other. Her first time, after a little pain, which she had been told to expect, had been wonderful beyond her wildest dreams, and now as she looked at her new husband sleeping peacefully beside her she knew that there was never, ever going to be a love more sacred than this one.

  She smiled as she looked at his hand curled up into a loose fist with the thumb at the corner of his mouth, almost as if she were going to start sucking it like a baby. His long brown eyelashes rested on his cheekbones and there was a slight frown between his eyebrows. What was he dreaming about? She wondered.

  His other hand was resting protectively on her stomach. She picked it up and laid it against her cheek, then turned over so that her back was against his chest and they were fitted together like spoons, then she fell asleep. As she drifted off in the safety of his arms she reflected that it was going to be fun being married.

  47

  Fraserburgh

  Gordon McVey had hardly been seen since Heather and Bruce came back to the castle. He had been absent at the wedding and at Bruce and Heather's blessing afterward, so everyone assumed that he would not come with them to Fraserburgh. In fact, he had been considering the matter, and on the morning of their departure, he decided to tell James that he would accompany them.

  "Fair enough, Father," he replied, smiling pleasantly, "but the carriage is full, so you will have to ride beside it with me. And you will have to be pleasant to everyone."

  Gordon was incensed. "Who is the father here?" he asked angrily, "you or me?"

  James sighed deeply. "You know, Father," he said wearily, "sometimes I wonder."

  Bruce decided to defer to his father-in-law and allow him to sit in the carriage, not out of respect, for he had none for Gordon, but because he was quite uncomfortable in a small space with so many other people, even if one of them was Heather.