They followed the fiddler to the small chapel in Aldourie, Kyla’s heart in her throat as her feet moved of their own accord, following along with the rest of the procession. Villagers waved to them as they passed, and Kyla forced herself to smile and wave back as was expected of her. She thought the march might never end, until they finally arrived at the small church.
As the rest of the party filtered inside, Kyla remained at the back, taking her waiting father’s arm. Niall gave her a look of encouragement as he took in her face, which she knew must be full of trepidation.
“Chin up, daughter,” he murmured out of the side of his mouth. “Never show fear. You are a MacTavish, and you will act like one today.”
Kyla nearly laughed at the speech, so typical of Niall MacTavish instead of the endearments of love most women would hear from their fathers upon their wedding day.
He might be gruff, unpolished, and depend far too much upon her for her liking, but he was her father, and tears burned the back of Kyla’s eyes as the beginning of the piper’s “Highland Cathedral” signified the life she was leaving behind.
The walk down the long aisle seemed eternal, and Kyla held her head high, keeping her eyes on the front of the chapel and not at the faces of the many people who turned to stare at her as she marched forward.
Her gaze caught Finlay’s, whose expression was unwavering, emotionless as ever. He took a slight step back when he looked at her, apparently in surprise at whatever was on her face. She tried to mask her thoughts and match his look as bravely as she could, watching now as her father shook Finlay’s hand and made his way to the front pew.
They stood, shoulder to shoulder, as the priest said the ancient words that had been repeated so many times before, binding a man and woman together. Kyla attempted to prevent her fingers intertwined around her bouquet of flowers to keep from shaking. She had always prided herself on her strength and today, in front of all of these people who knew her best, would not be the day to disabuse them of any notions of who she was or what she was capable of. She could run the business of an entire clan, look after a castle, and care for her father and brother. She could get through this wedding.
When it was finally time, she turned to Finlay, and he grasped the fingers of one of her hands with his, her skin seemingly burning where they touched. The priest provided them the words as they committed their lives to one another.
Kyla repeated the words unconsciously, her gazed fixed somewhere behind Finlay’s shoulder. When it was his turn, he gripped her fingers with strength, bringing her focus back to his face. His eyes burned into hers as he finished his vows with the words, “Above and beyond this, I will cherish and honor you through this life and into the next.”
She was taken aback at his conviction. The commitment in what he was saying washed over her like a wave, causing a deep emotion to twist inside of her.
The expression in his voice made her think that, perhaps, there was belief in what he was saying, that he would approach this marriage with the same dedication he did everything in life. Was there a chance that there could be more to this than she had originally thought? Did she even want that?
The reception was an affair that none present would soon forget. Any animosity that existed between the two clans was forgotten that night as all celebrated the union with plenty of ale, whisky, and wine in the great hall of Galbury Castle.
In the past few days leading up to the wedding, Peggy, Jane, and Kyla had brought the outdoors inside, with sprigs of flowers and greenery lining the hall. Finlay was happy to share the celebration with his brother, as the McDougalls also rejoiced in the union of Callum and his wife, Victoria.
Finlay took a sip of the welcome home celebration drink he was currently sharing with his three brothers. Callum’s return was bittersweet for them all, for while they enjoyed seeing him again, it was also a reminder that his stay would be far too short.
He seemed a different man, Finlay mused as they laughed over the uniform Callum wore as part of his police regiment. While tonight he wore the McDougall plaid, they had all enjoyed when he brought it out to show them all upon his arrival. He seemed to love his new land, his new purpose to life.
“Does everyone not see you coming from miles away?” Roderick ribbed him about the red jacket. Callum just smiled and shrugged.
He had always been good natured, but now there was an ease, an aura about him that was new. Perhaps it was love, Finlay thought as he watched him continue to glance over to where his wife sat with Jane. While he was present in his conversation, it was as though she was always on his mind. A wave of melancholy washed over Finlay with the knowledge that he would never experience the same with a woman who loved him as he did her.
He and Kyla had barely spoken to one another following their initial dance, the traditional grand march, in which they went through the motions of the steps. He had been unsure of what to say to her, now that they were husband and wife. Thank you? Congratulations? It all seemed trite and unnecessary.
As Adam and Roderick found partners for the next dance, Callum eyed Finlay with an intensity that had Finlay shifting back and forth from one foot to the other.
“Well, brother, are you happy now?” Callum asked, raising an eyebrow. “This is what you always wanted, was it not? Marriage to Kyla?”
“I suppose,” Finlay answered slowly, knowing his older brother had kept himself from Kyla because of him. He appreciated it, but the understanding had always been unspoken between them, and he wasn’t sure how to now put it into words. “Although… it would have been different, had she done it for reasons besides the good of her family. She has no interest in being wed to me, specifically. It is more of a… business arrangement, you could say.”
“It doesna have to be that way,” Callum said, his blue eyes keeping Finlay locked in their gaze. “Tell her what you feel for her. Sometimes, I’ve learned, the best path forward is to say what ye really mean.”
“Tell her how I feel?” Finlay scoffed, staring at his brother as though he had gone mad. “That will do nothing but cause her to pity me. She is certainly not of the same mind and has made it clear that it will remain this way between us. Worse yet, it may scare her away. No,” he shook his head with conviction, “we will remain as we are. I will be satisfied by the knowledge that she is my partner, in this one way at least, if no other.”
“Fin,” Callum said softly, “that is not the life you want or the marriage you want, when there could be so much more. Kyla doesn’t know you as we do. If you open up, allow her in, you both might be surprised by what could be there between you.”
“You say that because you have what you have, a wife who loves and cares for you,” said Finlay, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice. “Kyla knows me as well as any of you do. You love me because you’re my brother and you have to. I’m happy you found love, Callum, I truly am. But this is my life now, and I’m at peace with it.”
“All right, Finlay,” said Callum with a sigh, raising his hands in defeat. “Well, if nothing else, I’d like to thank you. Had ye not been so in love with Kyla all those years, I may have married her myself and never met Victoria.”
Finlay’s lips twisted into what he hoped was the semblance of a smile.
“Glad to have been of service,” he said wryly. “Now do shut up about that, won’t you Callum? I’d prefer the rest of our clan doesna realize I’m over here pining away for my new bride.”
Callum smiled. “Your secret is safe with me, brother. Now, let’s join our women, shall we? I believe Roderick is calling for a toast.”
They made their way over to the rest of their family, Finlay marveling at Kyla’s beauty once more. When he had seen her walking down the aisle, the sun streaming behind her through the stained-glass windows, he had been struck at the way his heart tugged at him. This woman, the best woman he had ever known in so many ways, was to be his wife. As he’d said the words to her that bound them to one another for the rest of their lives, he
had been surprised at the weight of responsibility to live up to them that had accompanied them. He had seen her eyes widen as he had spoken them to her, and hoped she was not aware of just how much his heart yearned for her to feel the same.
He knew it could never be, but prayed with all his might that she would stay with him past the three months. He vowed to do his best not to be overly ornery with her, and give her the space and the authority she longed for.
A voice inside him laughed at that. He had never been one to keep his opinions to himself, and he doubted very much anything would change with her. But, he promised his heart, he would do his best.
The last of the guests had trickled out the door of the McDougall great hall as the early morning sun started to rise. Kyla had been overwhelmed by the well-wishers that evening, but she was grateful for the support of her own clan as well as the one she had married into.
She looked across the hall at Finlay, leaning against the doorframe. He looked exhausted, and she was surprised at the pull she had to go over and push the dark hair out of his eyes and order him to bed. She supposed she could if she felt so inclined. She was, after all, his wife now.
She walked over to him and settled with a gentle pull at his arm. “Off to bed with you now, husband,” she said with a light smile.
He looked up at her, his intense gaze suddenly alert.
“Coming with me?”
The tremor that coursed through her body shocked her, and she looked up at him, startled.
“I… I think…”
“I’m kidding, Kyla,” he said, one corner of his lips curling up in a smile. “See? I can make a joke. Come, I’ll show you to your chamber.”
As he led her up the stairs, her heart was still hammering in her chest.
He stopped at the door next to his, and looked down at her. He lifted her hand and brought it to his lips in a surprising show of affection.
“Sleep well, wife,” he said before dropping her hand and entering his own room, shutting the door behind him and leaving her staring at him in perplexity.
7
The next few days passed in somewhat of a blur. Kyla had been nervous about coming in and finding her place within a household with two strong women, but she had little to fear.
Jane and Peggy welcomed her with open arms, and between the three of them, they quickly determined their new roles within the household. Peggy was more than happy to give up any of her duties or responsibilities if it meant she could spend more time lost in her daydreams and visiting with her friends. Finlay’s mother, Jane, was a kind, gentle soul who had everything well in hand without being particularly overbearing or commanding to any of the women who came in to help now and again. Jane also had her own interests in herbs and healings, and was pleased to have more time to attend to them.
Kyla tried to explain that she actually wished to do more with the business of the clans and less about the house, but they seemed pleased to accommodate her however she wished. Kyla wondered how much was their easy-going natures, and how much was part of them wanting to ensure that she stayed happy and here with Finlay.
The first day, she accompanied mother and daughter around the tower house, learning more about the day-to-day roles of the family and what she would be expected to look after.
It was nothing much different than what she had done in her father’s home. As she had climbed the seemingly endless staircase of Galbury Castle, she wondered who was currently looking after her father and brother, and decided a visit was in order as soon as possible.
Kyla rarely saw Finlay in her first week as his wife, but she fell into an easy routine with the rest of the McDougalls. Not only did she and Peggy get along well, but she found Adam a quiet, solid presence, and Roderick loved to tease her, as his new “sister.” Peggy would just roll her eyes when he started up, shaking her head at him as she thanked Kyla for taking Roderick’s attention away from making her own life miserable.
Finlay seemed to be eternally displeased with her, no matter what she was doing or who she was doing it with.
One afternoon, Kyla was sitting in a wooden chair next to the window of the cold kitchens, catching the square of light where the late afternoon sun streamed in and warmed her as she peeled potatoes into a pail in front of her.
She heard motion at the door and looked up to find Adam hesitating in the doorway, as though unsure of whether or not he should join her.
“Adam!” she exclaimed upon seeing him, “Come in, please.”
He nodded and stepped into the room. Kyla was partially pleased to see him because he was a welcome distraction from the pile of potatoes currently in front of her, but she also enjoyed his presence. He had an easy manner about him, and while he was a serious sort, he was a good listener.
“How are you today, Kyla?” he asked, taking the matching worn, wooden chair to the one she was sitting in, swirling it around and straddling the back of it as he faced her.
“Just fine,” she said, “and you?”
“All is well,” he said with a small smile. “What are you doing in here?” he asked. “I’m sure there is someone else who would be better suited to the task.”
“I volunteered,” she said with a sigh, wishing now that she hadn’t. “I had some ideas I wanted to contemplate and thought this would give me ample opportunity. Only, I overestimated the time I needed to ponder, and now I’m itching to begin putting my idea into being. Instead, I’m here peeling potatoes. Alone.”
“What were you pondering?” he asked, interest gleaming in his eyes. Adam was a thinker as much as she was, and she knew he would appreciate her thoughts. He actually listened to her as though she had some sense in her brain and gave credence to her ideas.
“It’s the great hall,” she said, keeping her eyes down as she didn’t want to come in and upend everything. “I thought perhaps there might be a way to maintain the McDougall presence while making it slightly more… welcoming.”
“Do tell.”
She began to describe her thoughts on the layout, which led to ideas on better access to the gardens, and then she launched into all of the research she had done on what grew the best in this climate, when the vegetables needed to be planted, and what had thrived at the MacTavish holdings.
“In fact,” she said, holding up a finger, “perhaps I could even replant some of what is currently at home—at Darfield that is. I was thinking—” she stopped, her face warming. “But I am getting too far ahead of myself. I do not even know if my ideas would be welcome. I am in no way suggesting that anything currently in place here is not good enough. I was only—”
Adam chuckled as he held up a hand.
“It is not as though you are a stranger to us, Kyla,” he said gently. “You have always been part of our family, and we have always known that you would one day truly become a McDougall. And the fact is, I think you have some genuinely good ideas. Speak to my mother about them.”
“Really?” she said, looking up at him, hope blooming within her that perhaps, if Adam was open to her thoughts, Finlay would be too.
She heard a step at the door and looked up to find the man in question standing there within the doorway. His expression was unreadable as he looked from her to Adam and back to her again. Somehow his gaze gave her cause to feel as though he was displeased with her, that she had something to feel ashamed of.
“Finlay,” she said, swallowing such ridiculous thoughts, “I—”
But he was gone without a word, and Adam only shrugged at her apologetically before continuing on his way himself, leaving her with the pile of damned potatoes she had brought upon herself.
She received an even worse reaction a couple of days later when she was sitting in the library at the desk that had become hers, reviewing the ledgers of the food that had been grown, gathered, and stored for the winter. They were coming to the last of the season to harvest potatoes and other vegetables. She stood up to find Finlay to discuss the livestock, her head still inclined over the ledger
she held within her hands. As she took a step forward, she collided into a solid chest, and looked up to Roderick’s smiling face.
“Hello, sister,” he said with a grin. “Head in a book? It seems you’re just as studious as our Adam. Anything of interest in there?”
“Only if you have a love of potatoes,” she said, responding to his ever-present smile.
“Ach, potatoes, never been my favorite, unfortunately, though heaven knows I have not much choice in the matter. If ye can find something else with which to fill my stomach, well, then, I’ll be forever grateful,” he said with a bow.
As she laughed at him, she sensed movement to her right, and turned to see Finlay at the doorway, his eyebrows knit together in a grimace.
“Finlay!” she said, forcing a smile of welcome on her face, though she was worried, as always, of just how he would greet her today. “Were you down in the village?”
“Does it matter?” he asked tersely, glaring at both of them before asking Roderick to excuse them so he could have a word with his wife. Roderick looked expectantly from one of them to the other before leaving with an exaggerated bow without asking any questions, though he did send Kyla a quick wink on his way out.
“I was simply wondering where you had gone today,” she said in an even tone, answering Finlay’s earlier question. “And aye, I suppose it does matter. I’m interested.”
“It seemed Roderick was holding your interest well enough. He has much more propensity for storytelling than I do.”
“Perhaps he does,” she said cautiously, not wishing to enter into an argument but neither willing to put up with his barbed comments and veiled annoyances any longer. “Finlay, have I done something to offend you?”
Finlay's Duty: A Scottish Victorian Romance (The Victorian Highlanders Book 2) Page 5
