The Highlander's Stolen Touch (19 page)

She’d made her way home and, after hiding the wooden heart
inside her trunk, Ciara had broken her fast with her family, explaining that she
wanted to be home on this last day before leaving them. Her mother’s eyes had
filled with tears while her sister asked if she could have Ciara’s bedchamber
now that she would be the oldest. Ciara had allowed these joyful moments to wash
over her for soon, very soon, they would be over and she would be gone.

Her mother had made her favourite porridge, extra creamy this
morn, and even her father had joined them and lingered there longer than usual.
She wondered if they could tell that she was somehow different this morning. She
felt different from inside out. A woman now where a girl stood before. Though
that last step to womanhood would be on the morrow.

Finally, everyone had set about on their day’s tasks and she
began to pack for both the next night, which would be spent in a chamber in the
keep, and for the journey—nay, move to James’s home. She stumbled now just as
she had a few weeks ago over what to take and what to leave behind, but now it
meant letting go of whatever remained here in the chamber. She was touching the
carvings when her mother came in. She did not know she was crying until her
mother touched her shoulder and took her in her arms.

‘There now, sweetling,’ she soothed. ‘Soon you will have your
own bairns and I can send these along for them.’

‘I do not know why I am so weepy, Mother. ’Tis not as though I
did not know this day would come.’

‘Knowing it approached and having it here are two different
matters.’

Ciara leaned back and searched her mother’s face. ‘I do not
know how you did it. Taking on everything you did. Seeing to me. Then marrying
Papa and coming to a new village, a new clan and a whole new life.’

‘I married a good man, just as you will.’

Her mother stroked her back, touching her hair and combing it
with her fingers in a calming motion she would miss. She was thinking of the man
she was not marrying, so she remained silent in her mother’s embrace.

‘You are at peace with this marriage?’ her mother finally
asked. Leaning back, she nodded.

‘I am.’ Her mother kissed her on both cheeks and released her.
‘There is much good that will be gained by seeing it through.’

‘Then you must get dressed, for there is much to do. Jocelyn is
waiting for our help.’ Her mother did not dally, leaving and pulling the door
closed as she went.

Looking at the wooden animals that stared back at her, she
wondered if Tavis would speak to Gunna or remain mired in his grief and guilt.
She touched each of them, offering up a short prayer for his happiness, and
wondered if he’d even noticed the heart was missing from his shelf.

* * *

The day moved quickly by her. She spent time with James
at the keep. Even he joined in the efforts to prepare for the wedding feast. His
parents clearly did not think it appropriate for anyone but the servants to do
such work and they left rather than watch their son doing menial labour or
before they could be coerced into helping in some way.

Ciara had learned long ago that she could not sit for endless
hours sewing or embroidering or reading aloud from prayer books or other such
womanly arts. Oh, she had the abilities and skills to do such work, but not the
patience for it. She would rather be riding or walking or debating with her
father or playing chess against her mother. As she watched the Murrays leaving,
she wondered if she would change once she was under their roof or if they would
make allowances for her Highland upbringing.

The families ate a mid-day meal together, light fare since the
cooks were preparing the roasts and stews and fish and sweets that would feed
them all after the wedding and they had not the time nor the hands needed to
cook a full meal for mid-day as well. She sat next to James, who grew quiet as a
few bawdy toasts were made. There would be more, many more and much bawdier,
during the feast, but that was expected.

She looked up at the corner tower where their bedchamber was.
Her mother and James’s mother had prepared it for their use and the bed was now
covered in clean linens. Her mother’s wink told her other pleasant surprises
awaited them there.

* * *

Soon, their tasks complete, she walked with her mother
and Elizabeth back to the village.

‘Will you stay with me this night, Elizabeth?’ she asked as
they reached the split in the path. ‘I would love your company on my last night
before my marriage.’

‘As long as you do not stay up all night chattering away and
get no sleep,’ her mother warned.

‘I...I cannot,’ Elizabeth murmured, looking away. ‘I am needed
at home.’ Her voice shook, filled with some unnamed emotion. ‘Forgive me,
Ciara,’ she whispered.

Ciara hugged her and shook her head. ‘There is nothing to
forgive. We will have much time together when we live in Perthshire, Elizabeth.
No worrying over this one night.’

Elizabeth stepped back and nodded. She left without another
word to either of them.

‘Weddings and funerals bring out the best and worst in people,
Ciara. Emotions run high for so many reasons.’

All throughout the day she had hoped. She had hoped he’d spoken
to Gunna. She had hoped he would overcome his fears. She had hoped that he
would... None of it mattered, for the night finally arrived and he did not.

Her trunks were packed, her clothing folded neatly within them,
ready for the trip to begin her married
life with James. Though she wanted
to give in to some need within her soft heart and bring the newly carved heart
along with her, she feared she was holding on to the past too firmly and let it
remain in its place there.

In spite of knowing that it would offer some measure of comfort
for the days ahead, she told herself repeatedly in that moment that she must
leave it behind. Tavis had been her first friend and she would never forget him,
but ’twas time to relegate him to her past. Anger surged past the pain in her
veins and made her want to pound her fists and stamp her feet over the fact that
he could, and had, let her go...again.

No matter that, she took a breath and walked away from the
shelf that held so many memories. She had to put aside her hopes for something
more between them now, for to do otherwise would guarantee not contentedness,
but bitterness in her marriage. She wondered through the day and into the
evening if a day would pass in which she did not think of him. Each time such a
thought arose, she convinced herself that a time would indeed come.

Her mother and sister joined her in her bed for a while,
probably sensing her nervousness, and they talked into the night. She missed
Elizabeth’s presence, but Ciara sensed that something was wrong and would speak
to her in the morning to settle it. Thinking back on the last several days, she
tried to remember if she’d said or done anything that was hurtful to her friend
and could think of nothing. Well, mayhap her mother had the right of it—weddings
brought out all kinds of emotions.

When her mother handed her a cup of steaming tea, she knew
there was something in it to help her sleep. She sipped it slowly and allowed
her mother to tuck her under the covers for the last time.

Whether the potion’s effect or her heart’s, her sleep was
filled with the most wondrous dreams of the life ahead of her. The wedding, the
feast, the first night together and even dreams of her first child. Tears and
joy in every scene as they spun out through the whole night.

* * *

When Ciara woke in the morning and recognised the day,
she realised that every single one of her dreams had the wrong husband in them.
She’d dreamt the night away married to Tavis, while James would be the one
awaiting her as she walked down the church’s aisle.

Chapter Twenty

T
he wedding would take place just before noon with the feast following for...well, for as long as it took. Her mother moved quietly through the cottage this morn as though not to disturb her thoughts. And strangely she had few.

These last days had wiped her clean of regrets and had given her the resolve to do the duty she owed to her parents and to the MacLeries. Now, knowing everything her mother had given up and suffered for her over these years, she thought that marrying James was a small thing to do in return.

Elizabeth had not arrived yet and Ciara wondered over her lateness. They’d planned to prepare themselves here and walk to the chapel together with her parents, meeting James and his parents at the entrance. Then together she and James would enter the church and leave as man and wife.

They’d not yet made their final plans, but his parents mentioned travelling to Glasgow before returning to their home. How strange would it be to travel now with a husband? One to sleep with at night. One to care for during the day. She turned to watch her parents as they spoke quietly and wondered how long it took them to fall in love after their precipitous wedding. After hearing more of the story from them and comparing it to what she knew as childish memories, she understood now that more had happened between them than what she knew. And she doubted now their marriage began on less than a rocky start.

When Elizabeth still did not arrive, her mother helped her dress and, along with her younger sister, they decorated her hair with flowers. The tears in her father’s eyes when he watched from the doorway of her chamber told her this was the right thing to do.

For everyone involved.

Soon, the time came to leave for the chapel. Walking between her parents, they made their way to Elizabeth’s cottage first to find her. Ciara did not remember a change of plans, but in the emotional upheaval over this last week or so, she could have missed it. The expression of shock on Elizabeth’s mother’s face told her it was not her failure at all.

‘Is Elizabeth ready, Edana?’ her mother asked.

Edana shook her head, glancing from one to the other and back again to her. ‘I thought she was with you already, Ciara. Her dress is gone. She left last night, saying she would spend the night with you, to calm your fears over your coming marriage as a friend should.’

‘But she told me you had need of her here last night when I asked her to stay,’ Ciara said.

‘Come, Ciara,’ her father said, squeezing her hand to reassure her. ‘Once we get to the chapel, I will send men out to look for her. She may even be there waiting for you now and we will have no cause for worry. Mayhap in the excitement of the day, your plans were confused.’

Ciara nodded. His advice seemed sound. Elizabeth would indeed be at the church waiting. Once they were standing next to each other, it would all be good and Elizabeth would stand witness to her vows to James and travel with her to their home.

As they got closer to the gates, others gathered to watch them walk by, calling out greetings and good wishes and then following them along. By the time they entered the yard and made their way to the small church, a large crowd was behind her. Though not her family by birth, they had accepted her and treated her as one of them. They were not loud and unruly, but a sense of joy ran through the crowd as little girls handed her flowers and touched her dress and hair.

Ciara allowed herself only one final moment of weakness as she walked, peering off down the path that would lead to Tavis’s cottage. If either of her parents noticed, neither indicated it. They made their way to the chapel without pause then.

And they arrived at the church doors just as the rains came.

‘’Tis good luck for the bride when it rains on her wedding day,’ someone called out. Laughter followed since everyone knew someone would have said the same thing if the sun shone.

‘Go inside,’ her mother directed. ‘We can wait out the shower there.’

Ciara followed and let most of the crowd pass to get inside. Waiting at the doorway, she looked for Elizabeth again, but did not see her there or in the yard.

‘Father, she is not here,’ she said, as her father searched the faces in the crowd for her friend.

‘I will ask Father Micheil if she has been here and send someone to the hall to seek her out.’

A concerned glance shared between her parents made her worried. Elizabeth would not miss her wedding. She would not. Not if she could help it.

Had she taken ill somewhere? Was she safe?

Her mother took her hand and squeezed it. ‘He will find her. All will be well,’ she said. ‘After all, it is my beloved daughter’s wedding day. Rain or no, Elizabeth or no, this is a special day and one not to be marred for you.’ Smoothing her hair from her face, her mother cupped her cheek in her palm and smiled. ‘No worries allowed this day for you, sweetling.’

The rains worsened as Ciara stood waiting for James. He would be dressed in his finest garments and would look handsome as he walked with her down the aisle. They would say the words binding their lives. He would care for her as her father had her mother. They would work together in their endeavours. All would be well.

So why did she have the terrible urge to do something embarrassing right now? Why did she want to scream and run from this church and from all the arrangements and agreements? To do the one thing that James had asked her not to do this day?

‘A momentary panic,’ her mother said, as though reading her thoughts. ‘Take a deep breath and it will pass.’

‘Did it happen to you, Mother?’ she asked, doing as her mother suggested.

‘Aye,’ she said, smiling. ‘Your father had no idea of what he’d walked into with my family. He was forced to marry me, not knowing the half of it.’

‘Forced? I cannot imagine him forced to anything.’

‘Ah, he was tied by the words and contracts he so enjoys writing. No choice but to marry me and take us both away.’

‘And look how it turned out for you two,’ she said, knowing that there were not two people who loved each other more than her parents did.

‘Aye, Ciara,’ she said. ‘Look how we turned out.’

It was her mother’s way of soothing her without making it obvious. Things would work out for her and James. Things could be good between them. She focused on those thoughts over the next minutes as they waited.

Those minutes flowed by with no sign of Elizabeth, her father, the Murrays or an end to the rain, either. Now she was getting worried. The people waiting inside the church grew restless as well as they noticed that something was not right. Questions and whispers echoed through the stone building and she heard some of them. Then, when she looked out the door once more, she discovered the one man she never thought to see here.

The one man who told her he could not attend, even for her.

Tavis.

He stood in the rain, halfway between the church and the gates, arguing with her father.

In the rain.

She shook her head and would have gone to see what they fought over, when her mother grabbed her and pulled her back.

‘You are to marry James, Ciara. Let your father see to whatever business Tavis has.’

But she could not tear her eyes from the scene. Her mother, sensing trouble, took her by her hand and led her further inside the church, away from the doors and from the spot where she could watch Tavis. ‘Here, now, Father Micheil has brought a chair for your use while we wait out the storm.’

Ciara had no choice unless she pushed out of her mother’s grasp and ran out of the church. And what good would that do her or James? He did not want to be embarrassed here today. Had he known this would happen? She shook her head, clearing her thoughts and reminding herself that she had chosen this path, She had given her word. So, she told herself now as her stomach tightened with worry, she would just be patient.

Except that she was not a patient person.

‘What is keeping James? His parents should be here by now.’

‘I do not know, sweetling,’ her mother said. Mayhap sensing that Ciara was nigh to doing something less patient than sitting here among the MacLeries waiting for her groom to arrive, her mother made an offer. ‘I will go to your father and see what is happening.’

After calling her other daughter, Beitris, over to sit with Ciara, her mother walked away, speaking in low tones to this one and that one who all asked the same questions of her. Murmuring some replies she could not hear, Ciara watched as it took some minutes for her mother to make it to the door of the church. No sooner had she left than the crowd all began chattering and looking at the doorway.

Believing that James and his parents had arrived, she stood and waited for her parents to come back. Tavis stood in the back, outlined in the doorway, half in and half out, still arguing with her father. Everyone there wanted to hear the conversation and quieted so they did not miss any details or interesting bits.

‘Tavis, do not do this,’ Duncan warned. ‘There is too much at stake. For Ciara and for the clan.’

‘I will leave it in her hands, Duncan,’ he said, loudly enough for everyone to hear.

Her hands? What was he doing?

Tavis pushed his way through the crowd towards her with her parents close behind him. Though everyone began to shift to let him through, they stayed close. Good gossip was good for years and none in the MacLerie clan would ever miss a chance to witness whatever this was.

‘The papers are signed, she is as good as married to him,’ Duncan argued as they strode towards her. He caught Tavis by the arm and pulled him away. Or tried to. ‘You will break her heart doing this, Tavis,’ he said.

‘Doing what, Father?’ she asked, standing now to meet him, them. Her mother tried to whisper to her father, but he shook her off and stood between her and Tavis.

‘The laird stands behind this marriage. Will you break from the clan over her?’

He...he...wanted what?

‘If she will have me.’

Confused, she looked at him and saw the love in his gaze once more. But now, there was no guilt and no pain sharing the place in his heart and she was glad of it.

‘Tavis, what is this about?’ she asked, as silence reigned inside the stone church.

Clasping her hands tightly, trying to prepare for whatever admission he would make before he walked from her life forever, she crushed the flowers she forgot were in her grasp.

‘You were right, lass,’ he said. ‘About so many things.’

‘A woman does like to hear that, lad!’ someone called out from the crowd. Everyone laughed, but his green eyes darkened and his expression never changed from deadly serious.

‘You are the right woman for me,’ he said, pausing as though trying to remember what he wanted to say. Instead, his next words shocked her as he said them.

‘You are an educated woman, one who can read and write in five languages and one who can understand contracts and negotiating. You are accomplished in skills and knowledge that most men knew not of. You are intelligent, quick-witted and any man would be glad to have you as wife.’

They were the words she’d spoken to him when asking him to marry her that night. The night that ended in pain and humiliation for her. But he continued now and added something not said between them yet.

‘And you love me, Ciara. I know you do, lass. As I love you,’ he said, smiling then.

‘Tavis, there is more to this than love,’ her father warned.

‘Treaties,’ he growled out. ‘And I will be outlawed for interfering with the laird’s business.’ He turned and faced her parents. ‘But you faced that decision, too, Duncan. You could have walked away from Marian all those years ago. Did the threat of losing all of this...’ he motioned his hand to indicate everything MacLerie ‘...did that threat keep you from claiming her?’

Her parents looked at each other for only a moment, but she knew they understood his argument.

‘You made me see the truth of my failures of my past, Ciara. But your faith in me showed that I can be a better man in the future. Ciara, I want you to be my future. You already have my heart—will you have the rest of me?’

She smiled at his mention of his heart, telling her he knew she’d taken the wooden one as well as the true one within him. Ciara began to speak, but her father stopped her.

‘Ciara, think about this. If you accept him, you will lose everything you have known. If the laird chooses, he can exile you both or even execute Tavis for his actions. The Murrays could go to war over this. Is it worth the cost you will pay? Is it?’ he asked solemnly.

All it took was one glance at her parents to understand. ‘Was it?’ she asked her mother. ‘Was it worth it?’

Her mother’s eyes filled with tears, but she smiled through them and nodded her head. The question meant something different to her than most listening thought it did, but her mother comprehended her true meaning. ‘It was, sweetling,’ she whispered as she took her father’s hand in hers. ‘It is.’

Love
was
worth whatever the cost. Whether love for a defenceless child or for a dearest friend, or for the man you had loved all your life, love was worth the cost. ’Twas that love that had allowed her to hope for a future with him, in spite of duties and honour and responsibilities. Could she now refuse all of that?

‘I will have you, Tavis,’ she said quietly.

The mayhem that those words caused tore through the small building and she thought the wooden rafters above their heads shook at the noise. Then the MacLeries
gathered there inside the church erupted into cheering and Tavis finally took her in his arms and kissed her. Not a nice kiss—she felt him possess her and felt the promise of the claim he would make on her body later in that caress of his mouth on hers.

But when things settled down, it was her father who brought their attention back to the realities of the day.

‘The laird will have to make a decision, Ciara,’ he warned. ‘It will not be as simple as declaring yourself free of your betrothal.’ He would know since he’d written the contracts himself.

‘Then find a way, Peacemaker,’ Tavis said. ‘Come, let us go to Connor and get his decision,’ he said, wrapping his hand around hers and not letting go of it. ‘I cannot allow another man to claim my woman as his wife. Not while I yet live,’ he swore, kissing her hand and turning towards the door.