“Of course,” Lorna added. “Now would ye like tae see the gown we’ve fashioned for ye?”

Jane shuffled herself close to the edge of the bed and stared through bleary eyes at the assembled women.

“Gown? Ye sewed a gown? But we announced our decision tae marry only few days ago.”

Lorna looked every bit pleased at her surprise. She smiled broadly and took the gown up to show her the beautiful work they had done.

“Oh, I kent since the moment I saw ye together, ‘twas only a matter of time before we came tae this, Jane. I think ye’ll enjoy what we did, trust me.”

Jane's jaw dropped as she stared at the beautiful dress before her. It dawned on her at that moment that she would indeed be getting married to Darach Robertson, a man who loved and cherished her in every little way possible. She struggled to blink back the tears that welled up in her eyes.

“That’s the most gorgeous dress I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

The long gown was made from a luscious navy-blue velvet, with shimmering gold embroidery at the bodice and along the hem.

“Just like ye, sister,” Aileen said. The women beamed back at her. Then Aileen went over to the bed and yanked the covers back, hugging her tight.

“Ye dinnae want tae keep yer husband waiting. Morven said he'd talked about naething else every time they met. He is quite impatient.”

“I ken the feeling,” Jane said with a little smile. She'd barely been able to sleep all night until the hands of weariness had snatched her in the early mornings.

The women then began bathing, scrubbing, and oiling Jane from head to toe. She was thinking about Darach and how fortunate she was to have found him. The prophecy had come true, but not in the way she had anticipated. She had lost her ability to distinguish between truth and falsehood when people spoke, but she didn't regret it because she had gained something far greater in exchange. The laird's love was priceless to her, and she would give up her power over and over just to have him.

Her stomach fluttered with excitement as they washed and dried her hair and then brushed it until it shined. Jane had to admit that she enjoyed every bit of the ladies' fussing over her. She could not wait to see the look on her husband-to-be's face when he'd see her.

“All done,” Aileen announced. “The only thing left is for ye tae don the wedding dress.”

A knock suddenly came at the door, and Wiley’s familiar voice called from the other side. “My lady, yer faither is waiting downstairs for ye. ‘Tis about time tae head down.”

Aileen grinned at her and then went to yank open the door, keeping her body between the messenger and the inside of the room so he wouldn’t see her.

“Tell Faither she shall be in the Hall as soon as we can. We cannae rush this! He wants his daughter looking best on her wedding day, dinnae he?”

Wiley muttered an apology and rushed down the stairs, promising he’d relay the news to Jane’s father.

“Now then,” Aileen said as she turned her gaze back to Jane. “Let’s put the gown together, my sister, and rush downstairs tae marry ye tae yer husband.”

* * *

“’Tis been hours,” Darach growled, pacing the floor. “What could possibly take an eternity tae be done?”

“They’re women,” Morven muttered with a shrug, as if it explained everything.

Arran said nothing, just crossed his arms and smiled. Darach stood in front of the altar. His two closest men surrounded him as he waited for his bride. The guests had all gathered and appeared to be much more patient than him.

Darach couldn't help but think about his first wife. Maira was pushed further back in his mind with each day spent with Jane. He was much younger when they married, and her vibrant youth was what drew him in. That much he remembered. She always had a ready smile. He’d considered her a friend, and they’d known each other long before their fathers arranged the union.

His wedding day with Maira hadn't been the most joyous of occasions because they both had not been ready to wed each other. He’d pledged to do his best by her, and that he had done.

Remembering how it had ended was painful, but it was a dull pain he'd quickly forgotten in his love for Jane. Kenn McTavish had confessed that he'd poisoned Maira out of his hatred for Darach, amongst other atrocious things he'd done.

Today, Darach hoped he'd move beyond the dark memories of his past. He'd have the love of a wonderful angel, one pure and powerful enough to nullify any curse he might bear. He was impatient to see her.

He shot Morven a worried look as he stopped in front of him.

“How much longer could it possibly take for her tae get ready?” he demanded again and shifted his stance restlessly.

“Ye'd do well tae remain calm, my laird.” Arran chuckled. “Women consider taking their times at things like this.”


Tags: Fiona Faris Historical