Page 40 of A Wife for the Highland Villain (Breaking the Highland Rules #3)

One Month Later

Daisy walked into the chamber, her eyes wide and anxious. She held on tightly to the dress clutched between her fingers, drawing Lily and Sorcha’s attention.

“I am afraid we have a problem, me Lady.”

Lily twisted around. She was sitting at the vanity, where Sorcha had been carefully arranging her hair into a braid woven with small white blooms.

Sorcha’s hands stilled at once, her eyes darting to Daisy.

“What do ye mean, a problem?” Lily asked, standing up quickly.

Daisy unfolded the gown and raised it. On the side of the dress, bright and noticeable as anything, was a giant stain. One that seemed to have been caused by something tangy.

The smell hit Lily at once, and she knew what it was.

Red wine.

Sorcha let out a sharp cry, pressing her hands to her face. “Good God, how did this happen?”

Lily stepped closer, her eyes fixed on the dress. She had been looking forward to wearing it all week, and now, with the wedding just an hour away, she had to think about something else.

“‘Tis ruined,” she forced out. “I need to find something else, and I need to find it quickly.”

Daisy flinched at the words, clutching the fabric tighter as though she could somehow protect it from Lily’s judgment. “Something else? Like what?”

“One of the other dresses in me trunk,” Lily said with a shrug, though her chest ached.

She had imagined this dress, imagined walking toward Alasdair in it. But she would not let such a thing ruin the day.

“It doesnae matter what I wear. The wedding will still take place.”

“I’m so sorry, me Lady,” Daisy said, her voice breaking. “I’ll—I’ll take it now and try to get the stain out. It might work. I’ll scrub and I’ll stitch if I have to.”

Lily gave her a small smile, soft but resolute. “Daenae trouble yerself, Daisy. If it doesnae work, then it doesnae work. Today will go on, regardless.”

Daisy shook her head fiercely. “It will work, I swear it.” She clutched the gown to her chest and started toward the door. At the threshold, she paused and turned back, her cheeks still flushed. “Oh, me Lady. Yer sisters are here. All three of them. Do ye want me to send them in?”

Lily froze, and her heart slammed against her ribs. “Me sisters?” she repeated softly.

Daisy nodded. “Aye, all three of them. They asked after ye.”

Sorcha’s eyes widened as she turned to Lily. “When was the last time ye saw them?”

Lily’s throat tightened, but she managed to whisper, “It’s been a while. Let them in. Right away.”

Daisy nodded and walked out.

A while later, the door opened again, and Valerie came in first, the excitement on her face unmistakable. Brigid and Megan followed right behind, with Megan closing the door behind her.

“Lily!” Valerie exclaimed, looking her sister over. Her eyes danced with joy and mischief, the same way they had when they were children. “I always kent ye’d be a Lady. But we missed ye so much.”

“Please,” Megan said, her tone practical as ever. “It hasnae been that long.”

“If this is yer way of telling me that I am yer least favorite sister?—”

Megan gasped in mock shock and put her hand on her chest. “I would never do that.”

Lily narrowed her eyes, almost like she was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Nae to yer face anyway.”

There it was.

Lily laughed, a shaky sound, and hugged them all. She had not realized how much she needed this until she felt them in her arms.

“Plus, we all ken the opposite is true.” Megan whispered with a grunt and everyone smiled.

Sorcha stepped forward and bowed her head slightly. “I’m Sorcha. I’ve been helping Lady MacRay get ready.”

Valerie grinned. “Ye can be honest with me, Sorcha. How many times has she told ye that she can do it by herself?”

Sorcha chuckled. “I have lost count, if I am being honest.”

They all laughed, and soon Valerie, Brigid, and Megan joined in, adding some finishing touches to Lily’s face and hair.

Valerie helped her wear the green gown she had sent as a gift, and tilted her head curiously as she adjusted Lily’s sleeve. “What should we call this? Ye were already handfasted ten years ago.”

“Nay,” Megan corrected quickly. “That doesnae count. Aye, they stood before each other, but they didnae have a proper wedding. Nae when he went and ran away like a coward.”

“Megan!” Lily gasped, spinning to glare at her.

Megan raised her eyebrows, unrepentant. “What? ‘Tis true, is it nae? He did run off.”

Lily bit her lip and then laughed despite herself. “Aye, he did. But he came back. And that’s what matters now.”

“Exactly,” Valerie said softly, her eyes warm. “And look at ye. About to be married properly, surrounded by family. It feels right.”

The sisters exchanged smiles, and Lily felt the weight in her chest lighten. They were all together, and it was on the happiest day of her life. Whatever had been lost in the past, didnae have the power to spoil the future.

Sorcha carefully tucked the last pin in Lily’s hair and stepped back. “There,” she said with satisfaction. “Lady MacRay is ready.”

Lily touched her braid, her heart fluttering.

Ready, indeed.

The hall was more packed than Alasdair had expected. He didn’t know why, but he had never expected his wedding day to be so filled with people.

Every bench was taken. His councilmen sat in their dark cloaks, the soldiers who had once fought by his side now polished and solemn. Folks from the village and the clans nearby, and even a few further down, had come.

Alasdair stood at the front, beside the priest. His shoulders were squared, his hands hung loosely at his sides, but his mind was restless.

Finn shifted next to him. “Ye seem nervous, me Laird,” he murmured, his voice tinged with amusement.

Alasdair didn’t look at him. “I’m nae nervous. Just thinking about the entrance.”

“Aye, ye’re nervous,” Finn said, matter-of-fact. “Ye’re doing the eyebrow thing.”

Alasdair finally turned. “What eyebrow thing?”

“The thing yer eyebrow does when ye’re nervous. It arches, like it’s trying to escape yer face. Ye did it plenty during the handfasting back then.”

Alasdair shoved him with his elbow. “Ye’re me man-at-arms. I didnae ask ye here to analyze me.”

“Correction,” Finn said, with a proud tilt of his chin. “I’m yer best friend and man-at-arms. Ye cannae have one without the other.”

Alasdair’s glare was sharp enough to cut steel. “Well, can I have just me man-at-arms today?”

Finn made a show of nodding, all mock obedience. “Alright. Just for today.”

Alasdair muttered a thanks under his breath, but then the doors opened. The creak of the hinges echoed through the hall, and silence spread like a tide.

Lily walked in.

She was wearing a green dress that shone subtly in the lights all around her. Alasdair studied the looks on the guests’ faces, ranging from surprise to shock, and then turned back to Lily.

His brow creased in confusion as he watched her approach.

“That isnae the wedding dress. Nae that I complain,” he whispered almost to himself.

But that was the least of his concerns. The dress Lily was wearing accentuated her curves. The neckline ran low, a tempting sweep beneath her collarbone.

Beside him, Finn let out a low whistle.

“I’ll cut yer tongue if I have to,” Alasdair whispered through clenched teeth.

Finn laughed. “Ye are one very lucky man, Alasdair. That is yer wife.”

Alasdair nodded, his voice softening. “Aye, that is me wife.”

Lily’s eyes remained fixed on him as she crossed the hall, her steps steady and almost measured. He watched the way she gripped the flowers in her hand tightly, and his lips curled into a smile.

Finn leaned close again, his voice sharper this time. “If ye mess this up again, I’ll kill ye and feed yer body to the wolves.”

Alasdair almost smiled. “Daenae worry. Lily’s braithers-in-law already have that covered.”

“Good,” Finn said with a grin, folding his arms.

Lily reached him at last. She handed her bouquet to Sorcha, who had stepped forward to take it, and then faced Alasdair.

He bent slightly. “What happened to yer wedding dress?” he whispered.

“An accident,” she whispered back.

His eyes widened as they ran over her neckline. “Good God. I can almost see down to yer ribcage.”

Her lips curled into a smile. “Aye. ‘Tis the dress Valerie sent me a few months ago. Do ye think I’ll draw attention? That people will look at me?”

Alasdair let out a laugh that surprised even him. “Aye. Let them look. They should ken I’m marrying a masterpiece.”

The priest cleared his throat loudly, and the sound pulled them both forward. The crowd quieted. The ceremony began.

When it came time to exchange rings, Finn handed them over. Alasdair took the band and slid it onto Lily’s finger. The moment it settled, he felt something click into place inside him, like a lock giving way. Lily’s hand was steady as she mirrored the gesture, her eyes never leaving his.

They repeated their vows before the priest. The hall was silent but for the echo of their voices, and the priest eventually lifted his hands and gave the final blessing.

“Ye may kiss the bride.”

Alasdair leaned forward and kissed her softly at first, then harder when she kissed him back. The hall erupted in claps and cheers, but the sound seemed distant. All he felt at that moment was her lips.

When they pulled apart, Lily’s forehead brushed against his.

His breath tickled her ear as he leaned closer to her. “I cannae wait to tear this off ye later.”

She rolled her eyes and looked at him. “Alasdair.”

A shiver ran through him.

“With me teeth,” he whispered.

Her eyes gleamed. “Somehow, I daenae doubt that.”

The cheers grew louder, but Alasdair didn’t pay them any mind. All that mattered to him was her.

She was here.

She didn’t leave, even when she had reason to.

She was finally his.

The End?