Bedded by the Laird (Highland Warriors) (13 page)

‘Lady Bridgette of
Glenbarach
.’ She opened her eyes to his voice, to her
new name… to him.
To the man who did not need now to save
her.
‘Would you do me the
honour
of wearing my
sash?’ And her eyes flew then to her brother’s and Peter gave a small nod.

‘I’ve spoken with
Peter.’

‘Laird…’She knew
the damage this could do, had heard the shocked gasp from Lady Helena,
could
feel the tension building in the room as to the
Laird’s most unsuitable choice. ‘You don’t have to do this…’

‘I want to,
though.’ And he placed the sash over her shoulders, where it belonged, for
she’d been wrapped in his plaid when she’d nursed Gracie and had worn it again
in her dreams.

 ‘Do you know
what diplomacy means, Bridie?’ He said to her ear.

‘Not a clue.’

‘I’ll explain
later…’ she looked into his eyes and then to his mouth and there was the hint
of that smile he shared only with her. ‘Trust me,’ he said, ‘and at the same
time
dinnae
believe a word I am about to say, for you
have my heart.’

And he turned and
faced the stunned ballroom.

‘I always said I
would marry for McClelland.’ The Laird faced the shocked, angry silence ‘And
believe me that’s a hard thing for a man to commit to with so many bonny
lassies in the room.’ No, one smiled, no one moved, and Alasdair spoke on.
‘Times are changing for Scotland - Wallace and Moray are uniting their forces,
the Highlands and Lowlands are fighting as one.

 ‘At the
Battle of
Stirling
Bridge there was an injured
Glenbarach
on the battle field and, for the first time in
memory, there was a
Glenbarach
Clan member in our
castle. It would never have happened before, our forefathers would be turning
in the graves, but the
Glenbarach
warrior was a
Scottish solider too, which meant I was not going to leave him behind.’ And the
room started to murmur in agreement as the Laird stirred them on. ‘Right now,
the
Glenbarachs
and
McClellands
need to be strong, need to cast aside our differences and pool our resources if
we are to stand strong and defeat the English…’ And Bridie stood, smiling on
the inside as she learnt the meaning of the word diplomacy, as he basically
told the room the reluctance in his decision - how there were far more
beautiful ladies he might have chosen, far more sensible choices that might
have been made if he were thinking only of McClelland.  ‘And so, I choose
my bride, not just for the good of McClelland – instead I marry for the
good of Scotland – for the more we unite, the worse for the English.’

He held out his
hand to the bride he had, for the good of his country, chosen and the room
roared a cheer of approval.

‘I’m sorry you’ve
had to make such a sacrifice,’ Bridie teased, for she was glowing inside.

‘Aye, what a man
has to do for his country.’

‘What a burden I
am.’

‘Never a burden
Bridie, yours and Gracie’s home is with me, I told you that.’

‘You did.’

‘And tonight….’ He
held her closer. ‘I’ll tell you again.’ 

 ‘You won’t,
Laird,’ Bridie said. ‘For I’ll not be in your bed till our wedding night.’

‘Bridie please…’
He grabbed her wrist as she went to go and spun her back to him.

‘Oh no, Laird…’
She smiled that wanton smile, her eyes glittering as she looked up at him, as
she ensured a very speeding wedding. ‘You were the one who said that you had to
marry a
proper
Lady.’

She looked down to
where he gripped her wrist and with a smile on his face he released it.

‘Peter,’ she said sweetly
to her brother. ‘Will you take me back to
Glenbarach
?’

 ‘I never
thought I’d see this day…’ Laird Peter’s voice was gruff as she took his arm
and they walked towards the McClelland Castle Church.

‘Aye, me neither,’
Bridie said holding wee Gracie’s hand and readying herself to walk down the
aisle ‘Are you having second thoughts, Peter?’

She saw his
reluctant smile at her tease – Laird Peter didn’t intimidate her, he was
her brother and Bridie never thought she would have one and wasn’t going to
waste time in fear when enough time had been lost already.

‘I had second
thoughts the moment your man suggested it.’ He looked to his sister. ‘Are you
having second thoughts Bridgette?’

‘None.’

She’d had three
weeks to prepare for the day, the banns had been read and she’d not seen the
Laird since the night of the ball.

Her skin had been
painted in lemon juice every day, not that her freckles had faded and her hair
had been soaked in oil so it would gleam when it was washed out. Her rich purple
dress had been made from the finest silk and for all the preparations Bridie
had had but one request, for she knew what she wanted embroidered.

Alasdair stood
proud in his kilt one hand at his back, his fist clenched in tension as he
forced himself not to look around.

But then he did
so.

There was Bridie,
smiling as she walked up to him, her glorious hair worn down and dotted through
out with flowers and he would love her for the rest of his life. She was born
to be his, Alasdair knew.

Had been left by
the McClelland Burn for a reason.

Carrying Gracie,
Bridie walked towards him then handed her over to Mary, who, along with
Donalda, was a bridesmaid. She smiled to
Mrs
Moffat
who was not sweating in the kitchen
today,
she was at
the front of the church, for she was also Bridie’s family.

‘You’ll not be
needing whisky tonight,’ Mary smiled as she took Gracie and Bridie blushed, and
then blushed some more as she walked towards her handsome groom.

Alasdair looked at
her face and he smiled and then looked down to the tiny
snow
drops
embroidered on her dress and his heart was fit to burst. He
watched as her eyes filled with tears- for on his jacket he wore a feather. One
that was black and white with sandy ends, for he had kept the feather she had
given him that day. Bridie wanted to wanted to reach out and touch it and so
she did. Remembered then that morning before her innocence was taken, tender
first love stirring as she’d watched him sleep, and now she would be beside him
forever.

The Priest took
their hands and joined them. Wrapped them in a strip of McClelland plaid and
then a strip of the earthy brown and moss green
Glenbarach
plaid was wrapped around too and the Priest tied the knot that would forever
now unite them.

They walked from
the church as husband and wife and were piped all the way to the Grand Room.
There was a feast and a party to be had as only the Scots can. Bridie soon
forgot to be a lady, for she was dancing and whooping and twirling with the
laird and between dances she was amongst her family and friends

‘Ignore Angus…’ It
was Bridie giving Mary advice this time. ‘Dance with a
Glenbarach
…’
she teased. ‘It will drive him wild.’

It did.

But in some
instances the
Glenbarachs
did stick together, though
not in a way Laird Peter would approve.

‘Donalda!’
Bridie’s eye were wide as her sister told her mid celebrations that she’d had
not just her first dance but her first kiss with Hamish, the
Glenbarach
War Chief.

‘Oh Bridgette, he
couldn’t take his hands off me…’ Donalda said, her eyes shining. ‘They were
everywhere!’ She gave a shiver of delight. ‘He’s so big and manly. Do you know
what he said?’

‘Tell me.’

‘He said the
lairds don’t know what they’re missing out on, for I’m magnificent.’

She was indeed,
and so too was the night. There were whoops and yelps and battles were
forgotten, resentments on hold, even dour May was smiling.

As the night drew
to it’s close the laird took her in his arms.

‘Away to bed.’
Alasdair said.

‘Away to bed
yourself.’

He carried her up
the castle steps.

‘This time you’re
moving in for good.’

He kicked the door
open and the staff had been busy for the fire was burning and there was warm
mead made with Scottish heather honey in goblets by the bed. They fed it to
each other as they would every night for a month now. Then slowly, with
a tenderness
only Bridie knew the laird possessed, he
undressed her. He placed her on his bed he kissed her everywhere. Kissed her
till she was sobbing his name, till she could take it no more, till her heart
fell again and finally she felt his beat within, as now and forever more,
she was bedded by the Laird
.

XXX