Highland Rising (The House of Pendray Book 4)

by Anna Markland

  It was clear from the initial confused murmurs that most folks had no inkling what he was referring to but the cheering resumed when Faith obeyed his father’s gesture to rise.

  Even Esther and Rachel applauded and a grinning Maggie gazed at Faith with undisguised adoration.

  “Therefore, I am more than happy to announce that Faith Cameron and my son, Grainger Pendray intend to marry.”

  A moment of surprised silence quickly turned to raucous hurrahs and the stamping of feet.

  “Faith,” his father shouted over the din, “please come to take your rightful place next to my son.”

  Garnet stood quickly, strode to Faith’s side and proffered his arm. Still blushing, she accepted and allowed him to escort her to Gray’s side.

  “A kiss, a kiss,” the crowd chanted.

  The racket rose to fever pitch when Gray stood, took Faith into his embrace and obliged, elated when she melted into him and returned his kiss with equal fervor.

  Superstition

  Paradoxically, the more Gray’s health improved, the less Faith saw of him. He no longer spent his days in bed, which brought an end to hours of blissful touching. She now had time to spend assisting with Sarah and Jewel’s bairns. She’d always enjoyed taking care of the wee ones, but now she daydreamed of soon nursing her own babes. She vowed to shower them with the love her own parents had never given her. Gray’s patience with Marten and Blair, even when he was tired and in obvious discomfort, convinced her he had the makings of a wonderful father.

  Going a little further each day, they walked in the meadows and talked of many things. She began to sense he was relieved not to be returning to Edinburgh. It eased a worry he might grow to resent having to stay at Kilmer. He often mentioned his concern the estate might fall into neglect given Munro and Garnet’s frequent absences in Edinburgh and their preoccupation with social reforms.

  “Ye could take the responsibility upon yerself,” she tentatively suggested.

  “I’d like that,” he replied. “Perhaps I’ll speak to Papa.”

  She breathed more easily, imagining no more suitable role for herself than his helpmate in taking care of the place she loved.

  His stated goal when they set off from the house was to eventually walk as far as the copse. She understood the reason when he took advantage of the tree cover to indulge in kissing and fondling.

  Within a fortnight, he’d abandoned the staff and his limp was less pronounced.

  The seating at the head table was rearranged to allow Faith to sit beside her betrothed. It provided opportunities for thighs to touch, feet to play and hands to wander beneath the table.

  Esther pouted, maintaining she should be allowed to sit beside Giles. The youth shook his head vehemently when he got wind of it, and even Rachel deemed the notion ludicrous. Maggie simply laughed in her sister’s face at the mere suggestion.

  Faith was impatient to be married, but banns had to be read for three consecutive weeks in the chapel at Kilmer. She and Gray sat shoulder to shoulder, meshing their fingers together as they listened to the curate. Each time, Gray whispered, “Soon, my love.”

  Faith repeated the words to herself over and over before she fell asleep every night.

  “I publish the Banns of Marriage between Grainger Pendray and Faith Cameron, both of this parish. If any of you know just cause or just impediment, why these two persons should not be joined together in holy Matrimony, ye are to declare it.”

  She claimed to be content they would marry in September, reminding everyone of the old nursery rhyme, Marry in September's shrine, your living will be rich and fine. In reality, the waiting was torture. Since the night they’d brought each other intense pleasure, she’d longed for his touch in intimate places. They agreed not to test the bounds of propriety by trysting in his chamber, but the memory of sexual ecstasy turned her into a seething mass of wanton passions. It was a far cry from the lass who’d always been careful to hide her emotions—even from herself.

  Gray found it amusing that every female who lived within Kilmer’s boundaries felt it necessary to spout nursery rhyme advice at him. Servants in particular—even some he had no recollection of speaking to before—were fond of telling him:

  Monday for wealth,

  Tuesday for health,

  Wednesday best day of all,

  Thursday for curses,

  Friday for crosses,

  Saturday no luck at all.

  They bombarded him with assurances he’d chosen the right day when he informed them he and Faith would marry on a Wednesday.

  “Goodness knows what they’d say,” he told Faith, “if I said our wedding was set for a Friday.”

  She looked askance at him. “Oh no, I would never have consented to get wed on a Friday. Just as I willna wear red. Ye ken the auld saying, ‘Married in red, ye’ll wish yerself dead.’”

  He chuckled. “Doesna truly matter what color ye choose.”

  She frowned deeply. “Of course it does. ‘Married in yellow, ye’ll be ashamed of your fellow, married in green, ye’re ashamed to be seen, married in pink, yer spirit will sink…’”

  He held up a hand. “Nay, I meant ye’ll be naked soon after the ceremony.”

  “Oh,” she replied, her fierce blush turning a pleasant arousal to granite.

  The countess sought Faith’s permission to ask Beatris’ father to send fabric for a wedding gown. Hiram Donaldson was one of the most successful cloth merchants in Edinburgh. “My cousin tends to pick heavy velvet for every occasion,” the countess explained. “But Beatris will make sure whatever he chooses is suitable.”

  Faith wasn’t confident she wanted Meaghan’s mother having a hand in the selection of material for her wedding dress. As the date set for the ceremony drew closer, her concern grew that there wouldn’t be time to fashion a gown.

  Gray laughingly dismissed her worries, assuring her he didn’t care what she wore.

  “Well,” Jewel remarked when Faith told her, “’tis typical of a man to say that but, nevertheless, he’ll expect something special.”

  A fortnight before the wedding, the countess summoned Faith to her solar.

  Sarah, Jewel and the countess looked up expectantly when Faith entered. The long-awaited parcel had arrived. Wrapped in felt and secured with twine, the round bundle sat on a small table apparently brought for the purpose.

  Jewel handed her a small dagger. “I canna wait to see it,” she declared with a bright smile.

  “We wanted ye to open it,” the countess said softly.

  Anticipation mixed with nervous apprehension bubbled in Faith’s breast as she sliced through the twine. What if she didn’t care for the fabric Beatris had chosen?

  As the excited women helped her unroll the felt, she realized it wasn’t the material that mattered. She was no longer Faith Cameron, orphaned daughter of misbegotten parents. She had been accepted into a sisterhood of strong, caring women.

  The chatter ceased when the cloth was revealed.

  The four stared at the embroidered floral designs covering the delicate, lacy creation that could only have been made by the hand of an angel.

  At a loss for words, Faith flung herself into the countess’ embrace and wept with happiness.

  “Do ye like it?” Gray’s mother asked, stroking her hair.

  Faith could only nod like an imbecile.

  “The color is perfect,” Jewel murmured. “Blue, but nay too dark. Ye ken what they say about yer love always being true if ye marry in blue.”

  “I asked Beatris to send blue. As ye say, Jewel, ’tis a lucky color for a bride, but also I thought blue would suit Faith’s brown hair.”

  “Let’s unwrap it completely,” Sarah suggested.

  Faith dried her eyes on her pinafore and helped. “I love it. How can I ever thank ye?”

  “There’s nay need. Ye’ve made my son happy,” the countess replied. “Besides, Garnet and Jewel solemnized their hand-fast once they got home to Kilmer, but Munro married in
England. This will be the first official family wedding held here, and I intend it to be the talk of Ayrshire for a long time to come.”

  Faith nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. “The color is a sort of bluish grey. Do ye suppose Beatris thought of that when she chose it?”

  The countess handed her a folded paper. “There was a missive attached with this inside for ye.”

  Curious, Faith unfolded the letter, surprised when she scanned the contents. “’Tis from Meaghan Guthrie. She wishes me well and is happy Gray has found his true love.”

  Jewel peered at the letter over her shoulder. “Meaghan says her mother thought the blue grey perfect as soon as she saw it, because of the coincidence.”

  The countess fingered the fabric. “’Tis light as air. Go to yer chamber, Faith. The seamstresses are on their way and they’ll want to measure ye.”

  Faith embraced her future mother-by-marriage, then Jewel. “If ye and Garnet hadna brought me here…”

  “’Twas meant to be,” her foster-mother replied.

  “She’s right,” Sarah added, offering a kiss on each cheek. “I was convinced Munro wouldn’t want to marry me once he discovered the truth of my parentage, but Fate has a way of getting what she wants.”

  Thank goodness for that, Faith thought as she hurried to her chamber. Perhaps Maggie was right that a dubious upbringing had no chance against the power of love.

  Penny Bridal

  Grinning, Munro rubbed his hands together. “I think everyone’s here now, so we can discuss the details of the Siller Bridal.”

  Gray was already aware his brother intended to organize the event, but the reactions from the members of the family seated in the gallery were mixed.

  “Aye,” Garnet declared. “Given the circumstances of our wedding, Jewel never got a Siller.”

  His wife smiled at him wistfully.

  “’Tis a time-honored Lowland custom. We must have a Bridal,” Gray’s mother insisted, clearly still intent on a wedding no one would ever forget.

  Faith frowned. “Aren’t they banned now?”

  Gray’s father cleared his throat. “They were outlawed about forty years ago, because they got completely out of hand. But people still hold them and the authorities turn a blind eye if there’s no drunkenness or disorder. I doubt they’ll bother us here.”

  “Would somebody please explain what we’re talking about?” Sarah said impatiently.

  Giles and Luke shrugged, obviously equally ignorant.

  “I suppose,” Munro replied with a wink at his wife, “’twas foolish to assume ye Sassenachs would ken what a Siller Bridal is.”

  Her tight smile removed the grin from his face. “The Siller is the bride’s drinking party, my darling.”

  “In some parts ’tis called a Penny Bridal,” Garnet added. “People come from far and wide and everyone who attends is expected to bring a penny. Wealthier folks started to contribute a silver shilling, so it became known as the Siller Bridal.”

  “A whole shilling?” Giles asked.

  “Originally,” Munro replied with a nod, “the coin was for the young couple to begin their life together.”

  “But,” Gray continued. “Faith and I dinna need the money, and my parents have generously agreed to provide the ale and spirits. We thought the funds could be used for Munro’s campaign.” It occurred to him belatedly he hadn’t asked his betrothed’s opinion. “If ye agree, Faith.”

  “Of course,” she replied.

  “Ale and spirits?” his father asked, but a glare from his wife caused him to mutter, “Right.”

  “Jewel and I will arrange for musicians,” Garnet announced.

  “There’s music?” Sarah asked.

  “And lots of dancing,” Munro replied. “We thought the gardens would be the best place. If it rains, we can move into the big barn.”

  “When will this take place?” Sarah asked. “The wedding’s in less than a week.”

  “Monday,” Munro replied.

  “But how will you make sure people hear of it in such a short time?”

  “Dinna fash,” Garnet replied. “Word spreads quickly in these parts.”

  Everyone breathed a sigh of relief when the morn of the Siller Bridal dawned fair and warm. The estate’s joiners had constructed a small wooden stage for the musicians. They had barely taken their places in the early afternoon when people began arriving.

  Faith was apprehensive about the dancing. Her parents declared the pastime a trick of the devil designed to lure lasses into temptation. She’d never danced in her life, and hoped Gray’s leg would oblige him to forgo that part of the Bridal. It didn’t help that he’d gone on for days about how much he loved dancing.

  They stood in a receiving line of sorts, flanked by his parents on one side and Jewel and Garnet on the other. For two hours, dutiful guests came to offer their best wishes—most of them she didn’t recall ever meeting before and her jaws ached with the effort of keeping a smile plastered on her face. “I dinna recognize most of these people,” she admitted.

  “Not surprising,” the earl replied. “They’ve come from miles around.”

  “I’d have thought they’d be reluctant to travel with Rumbold still on the loose,” she said.

  “Did Gray nay tell ye?” the countess asked. “Rumbold was captured a week ago.”

  Gray took her hand. “I didna wish to trouble ye with reminders.”

  Her instinct was to retort that she’d have been glad to be rid of the constant fear the rebel commander might reappear.

  Gray must have sensed her torment. “Forgive me. I should have realized ye’d want to be told. ’Twas near Lesmahagow. When called on to surrender, he replied he was there to fight for death, not life. He killed one dragoon and wounded two others. They finally shot his horse out from beneath him and took him into custody. He’s been taken to Edinburgh in irons.”

  Faith felt a weight lift from her shoulders. “He wanted to fight to the death.”

  “Aye, but let’s forget him and enjoy ourselves. The Rising is well and truly over.”

  Dozens of torches illuminated the gardens after darkness fell over the festivities. The ale and wine flowed freely, but Gray’s father kept a keen eye on the whisky, doling it out to only a select few.

  Gray was pleased people were obviously enjoying themselves—glad for him and Faith and relieved the Rising was over.

  However, he hadn’t plucked up the courage to tell Faith that Lord Hume remained at large, and was thought to be well on his way to exile once more in Holland.

  The music gradually changed from sedate pieces to raucous reels. He itched to dance with Faith, but worried his leg might not be up to the task.

  A bride should dance at her own Bridal. Faith had refused offers from Munro and Garnet, though she’d watched the merriment with what looked like longing. Perhaps she felt it wrong to dance with anyone other than him.

  He wondered if her parents had forbidden dancing, but Maggie and Esther had danced Luke and Giles off their feet. Indeed, he’d seen a joyous side of Luke Harrison he’d never seen before.

  Without warning, his father took his arm and led him to Faith who was sitting with Rachel. “You and Gray must dance. It’s obligatory.”

  Faith worried her lower lip. “But his wound.”

  The quiver in her voice told him his leg wasn’t the problem. “We can try,” he said, taking her hand. “I suspect yer parents didna allow dancing, but ’tisna sinful…”

  She shook her head vehemently, tears welling. “I dinna ken how to dance.”

  Surprisingly, his father hunkered down and took Faith’s hands. “Years ago, when I was a soldier, Gray’s mother asked me to dance. I’d never danced in my life, but the moment we stepped out together I didn’t want the music to end. Gray’s leg might pain him, and you might not know the steps, but you’ll regret not trying at your own Bridal. What better place to learn?”

  He helped her rise as he stood and handed her over to Gray.

>   Smiling, he led her out onto the grass to join the other revelers.

  Sore Feet

  Dancing for hours at the Bridal—first with Gray, then with each of the men of the Pendray family in turn, including Giles and Luke—finally freed Faith completely from the shackles of her upbringing.

  Her last inhibitions flew away as the pipes wailed and the fiddles sang. Maggie was right that life had to be enjoyed to the fullest.

  However, prolonged dancing on the part of a lass who’d never danced also resulted in sore feet. Soaking in a tub of hot water was a good idea, though she doubted there’d be anything relaxing about the traditional foot washing she was about to undergo on the eve of her marriage. Still, it promised to be fun.

  “Explain it to me again,” Sarah said, trying to get the wedding ring off her finger.

  “Ye toss the ring into this tub of sudsy water,” Maggie explained.

  “Faith puts her feet in and her unmarried friends and family wash them,” Jewel added.

  “And the first lass to find the ring is the next one to wed,” Esther declared gleefully.

  Faith and Maggie exchanged an amused glance. Both knew this was the only reason Esther and Rachel had agreed to wash Faith’s feet.

  Sarah slid off the ring and held it over the tub. “And what are the ashes for?”

  Esther rushed to explain. “Gray and his groomsmen, including Giles of course, are just outside the chamber. They’ll pretend to force their way in, then the lasses will grab Gray and pull him to the tub.”

  “And the ashes?”

  “We make Gray get his feet wet, then coat them with the ashes.”

  Sarah rolled her eyes as her ring disappeared with barely a splash. “I’ll never get used to these odd Scottish customs.”

  Bubbling with anticipation, Faith hitched up her skirts and put her feet in the tub.

  Gray put his ear to the door of Faith’s chamber. “Judging by Esther’s squeals of delight,” he said to Giles, “I’d wager she found the ring.”