Page 13 of A Fire in Their Hearts

M Y MARRIAGE TO SAMUEL OFFERS a brief moment of happiness in a world that seems to have become filled with such hate and cruelty.

But I won’t think of that. Today, no one is allowed to speak of anything that isn’t pleasant.

As if giving its approval, the sun shines brightly upon us while nearby the beautiful singing of a skylark fills the air.

‘You look lovely,’ says my mother. ‘This is the day we’ve all been expecting for so very long.’

‘So have I, Mother. It’s almost difficult to believe it’s finally happening.’

We’re being married by the Reverend Colvil a few miles north of Coylton, by the side of the River Ayr, which forms the border of the parish.

It’s sufficiently out of the way not to draw attention from those in authority.

Dozens of friends, neighbours and fellow Covenanters have gathered for this secret ceremony, while armed men keep a lookout from the surrounding higher ground. How can this be Scotland?

According to civil and ecclesiastical laws, we should have had public banns announced over three sabbaths in the nearby kirk and be married there by the new curate.

Like many other couples who believe in the cause, we refuse to do this, but it means our marriage won’t be registered in the parish records, nor will it be recognised officially, so there’ll be difficulties ahead when we have children.

Our marriage can’t even be spoken of openly because if news reaches the curate, he will inform the soldiers currently based in the nearby village of Drongan.

Throughout the country, these replacement ministers regularly inform upon parishioners whom they consider have been disloyal to them.

Many people we know have been threatened or fined.

It’s driving an ever bigger wedge of mistrust and ill-feeling between the Kirk and many ordinary people, who view the Church and military as being too close.

I’m still trying to calm my nerves when Samuel approaches, the huge smile on his face a rare thing to see these days.

My mother tactfully moves away. He’s obviously gone to considerable efforts to smarten his appearance, while his wavy ginger hair has been neatly cut; a task I will now take on.

However, it’s what he’s carrying that catches my attention the most. He holds out his hand.

‘Five violets, tied together with a blade of grass,’ he says.

‘You haven’t forgotten!’

‘Of course I haven’t forgotten. That was a big event in the life of a six-year-old.’

‘I’ve still got them.’

‘What!’

‘I took the flowers home and my mother showed me how to dry and press them. Those violets are still within the pages of a book. I even kept the blade of glass.’

‘What was the book?’

I laugh but don’t tell him.

‘Come on. What was it?’

‘I needed a big book because it had to be heavy.’

‘Not the Bible!’

‘I used Father’s copy of Don Quixote .’

Samuel laughs loudly and I’m filled with joy at the sound. ‘My gift rests within a story of chivalry. I love you, Violet Milligan.’

‘Well, we’re about to get married, so I hope you do. And I love you. I always will.’

He takes me in his arms and is still holding me when we hear a polite cough nearby.

‘I believe you’re meant to get married first,’ says the Reverend Colvil, beaming more than I’ve ever seen him do. ‘Perhaps we should get started.’

People have been talking quietly but everyone falls silent as Samuel and I stand in front of the Reverend Colvil.

He prays for a blessing for us. His voice carries so clearly in the valley that I fancy people must hear it from miles away.

I want them to hear, for everyone to know that I’m marrying the person I love, and that not even the king will prevent me.

When the Reverend Colvil stops, he looks upon us with such love.

It washes away the pain and fear we have held in our hearts these last few years.

‘Before the great God, who searcheth all hearts .?.?. if you, Samuel, or you, Violet, know of any cause, by precontract or otherwise, why you may not lawfully proceed to marriage, then you must own to it now.’

There’s a long silence broken eventually by Calum pretending to sneeze loudly. We burst out laughing and even the usually severe Reverend Colvil smiles at his younger son’s foolery.

When he is instructed, Samuel takes my hand and swears his vows to me.

‘I, Samuel Colvil, do take thee, Violet Milligan, to be my married wife, and do, in the presence of God, and before this congregation, promise and covenant to be a loving and faithful husband unto thee, until God shall separate us by death.’

‘Violet, take Samuel’s right hand,’ says the Reverend Colvil. ‘I think you know the words.’

I look into the eyes of the man I love and know that no other man will touch my heart as he does. No other man will touch my body as he will.

‘I, Violet Milligan, do take thee, Samuel Colvil, to be my married husband, and I do, in the presence of God, and before this congregation, promise and covenant to be a loving, faithful, and obedient wife unto thee, until God shall separate us by death.’

The Reverend Colvil places his hand upon ours. ‘I now pronounce you to be husband and wife, according to God’s ordinance. And let no man .?.?. beggar or king .?.?. try to come between you.’

*?*?*

We’ve been given a local barn for our wedding night and friends have spent a lot of time cleaning it out, laying down fresh straw in the loft while both of our mothers have made it homely with blankets and clothes, items like my hairbrush and a small looking glass.

There’s water and ale plus some food, which is wrapped tightly in a large cloth and hanging from a beam by a short rope.

After a long, joyful day celebrating with friends and family, Samuel and I lie down together on the blanket and I lay my head on his chest.

‘Happy?’ he says.

‘More than I ever thought I could be. You?’

‘Yes .?.?. and proud, and .?.?.’

‘What?’

‘Hopeful.’

I don’t reply straight away. ‘What gives you hope now that you didn’t have before?’

My husband (my husband!) takes a deep breath as though this will help him collect his thoughts.

‘We’ve always been bound together .?.?. faced the world and its dangers as one, but with you as my wife I feel stronger, more certain and hopeful that we will one day be able to settle in peace, surrounded by at least a dozen children. ’

‘A dozen! I think I might have something to say about the number of children.’

He chuckles softly. ‘Well, it’s really in God’s hands. Don’t you think twelve is a good number, to start with at least? Perhaps .?.?.’

‘What?’

‘Well, maybe we should make a start .?.?.’

Samuel’s attempt at humour doesn’t fool me for an instant. He’s more nervous than I am. We’ve known each other’s bodies for all these years and yet never known them, not as a man and wife. I move my head to look at his face, so open and honest. I stroke his hair.

‘I shall cut this from now on.’

He takes my hand and kisses it. ‘Violet.’

I’ve never heard him say my name like this, never known that one word could convey such passion and urgency. We remove our clothes and look upon each other’s naked body as if never seen before.

‘Kiss me,’ I say.

When his lips touch mine, the world outside no longer exists.

*?*?*

Samuel and I lie amongst the heather as we used to all those years ago as children.

It was a time of such innocent joy. Now we’ve been married for three months and, despite the continuing conflict around the country, they’ve been the happiest in my life.

Samuel has made money selling drawings to the local laird, who wanted a picture of his wife and was so pleased with the result that he asked for one of each member of his rather large family. Word of Samuel’s skill is spreading.

Yet I’ve sensed there’s something very important that he’s been wanting to speak about.

I suspect he’s suggested coming to a place where we’re completely alone so that we can talk freely.

I wait. He remains silent, hesitating at hurting me.

It’s obvious to me what he wants to say, but he needs to be the one, so I wait. I’m quite good at it.

‘Violet .?.?. there’s something I need to tell you.’

‘You can tell me anything.’

‘I want .?.?. need .?.?. to do my training as a minister.’

‘I always expected that you would, Samuel.’

‘But it’s much more difficult to do now in Scotland, with our beliefs. There’s only one place .?.?. and it’s where many go .?.?.’ He takes a deep breath before blurting out the word ‘Holland’.

‘Yes.’

‘But it’s another country, and I’ll be away for years before I’m ordained.’

‘Samuel, do you really think I didn’t realise that you’ll have to go to Holland to do your training? Your mother has often spoken to my mother and me about this.’

He twists in the heather to look at me with a frown. ‘My mother’s spoken about this?’

I reach over and gently rub away his frown, as if it’s a mistake in a drawing. ‘Yes, Samuel. We’d obviously worked it out.’

‘But don’t you mind?’

‘Of course I mind! It’ll break my heart when you leave, but it’ll break both our hearts if you don’t. Samuel, you must follow the path that God has shown.’

After a moment’s pause, he says quietly, ‘You could come with me.’

As if I hadn’t considered the options a hundred times over with the counsel of my mother and his. I shake my head. ‘This period in your life needs to be with your studies, your fellow students and tutors, not me. I’ll be waiting. When you’re ready to return, I’ll be waiting.’

Samuel takes me into his arms. ‘Violet, you are the most extraordinary, clever, wise, brave woman. I love you so much.’

‘It’s because I love you that I must let you go.’

I clutch him tight, too tight for someone who is fine with this decision I’ve made. Because my heart won’t be breaking when Samuel leaves .?.?. it’s already breaking, right now as we lie amongst the heather.