Page 26 of Highlander’s Captive Bride (Troubles of Highland Lasses #4)

EPILOGUE

A few nights later, under the cover of darkness, a closed wagon rumbled out through the gates of Castle Murdoch. Inside was a subdued Nadia. She was bound for a lifetime of exile at St. Catherine’s Convent near Leonardstown, never to return to the castle again, nor have anything to do with her former adoptive family. No one was sorry to see her go.

In happier news, Daisy and Bellamy could not wait to be wed, so they picked a date for the wedding in early June.

“I want Jamie to be me best man and our knot bearer,” Bellamy said to Daisy one day when they were taking a walk after dinner.

“Grand. Have ye told him yet?” Daisy asked, her arm linked through his, bumping against him as they strolled leisurely among the flower beds.

“Nay, but I will later.”

“I’ve decided I’m going to ask Poppy if she’ll be me maid of honor. If I choose one of me sisters, they’ll only quarrel about it. I’d love Poppy to do it. We’ve grown close over the weeks.”

“Aye, ye’ve spent so much time together,” Bellamy observed.

“Can I make a suggestion, then?” she asked, a twinkle in her eyes.

“I’m nae sure. Why d’ye nae go ahead and make it, and I’ll tell ye then,” he said.

Daisy laughed. “Well, it’s Jamie and Poppy.”

Bellamy looked at her with a perplexed expression. “What about them?”

“Och, ’tis just a feeling I’ve had since the first time I saw them together. I’ve seen the way they look at each other,” she told him. “I’m sure they like each other. And if I’m right, and it works out well for them, then it’ll be grand to ken we gave them a chance to find love, too.” She beamed at him.

“I’ve never noticed,” Bellamy said, still looking puzzled.

“Why is that nae news to me?” Daisy drawled, laughing again.

“So, ’tis a bit of matchmaking ye’re up to, eh?”

Daisy smiled and nodded. “Aye, but I think ye should put them in charge of planning the wedding. A little project they can work on together.”

Bellamy nodded. “Very well, bonny lass, consider it done.”

* * *

The very next morning, Jamie and Poppy found themselves summoned to Bellamy’s study and assigned the task of planning the wedding, with as many servants at their disposal as they wanted and a limitless budget.

“Och, M’laird, the honor is too much,” Poppy had protested at first. “I cannae do it!”

“There’s no one else I trust more to do it right than ye two. Daisy and I cannae think of anyone we want to do it more. We dinnae want anything fancy, just stick to the traditions. That is if ye want the job,” Bellamy said.

Poppy said nothing for a moment, looking confused. She tottered slightly, and Jamie’s arm shot out to steady her. She looked up at him almost imploringly.

“I’m sure we can do it together,” Jamie told her with a smile, his eyes twinkling. “I ken how good ye are at organizing things, from the way ye look after Elodie. And the servants will help, too. And I’ll arrange all the other things. If the weather stays like this, we can have the party in the gardens,” he suggested.

Poppy beamed up at him. “That sounds grand. Well, if ye think I can do it,” she said breathily.

“I dinnae think it, lass, I ken it,” Jamie told her.

She blushed crimson.

“So, will ye do it?” Bellamy asked.

“Aye, we’ll do it,” Poppy and Jamie declared in unison, then laughed at themselves.

Bellamy could only stare at them in wonder, marveling at Daisy’s ability to notice such things as his best friend being obviously absolutely smitten by a woman right under his nose when he knew nothing about it.

Since then, Daisy saw the pair together often, talking animatedly about the wedding arrangements and their duties as best man and maid of honor. She shared all this with Elodie and her sisters, and they all found it most entertaining to watch what developed between the potential couple and reported regularly back to Bellamy.

Naturally, Daisy said goodnight to Bellamy on the eve of their wedding day and chastely went to share a chamber with her sisters for the night. Tradition said the groom could not see the bride until the ceremony the following day, to Bellamy’s disappointment.

“If I’m to be deprived, then I’ll just have to make up for it on our wedding night,” he had whispered to Daisy lasciviously when the subject had come up between them. His words had sent shivers of anticipation down her spine.

“Dinnae try to tempt me to go against tradition,” she had replied with pretend primness before kissing him passionately.

On the eve of their wedding day, Jamie spent the evening with the groom in his chambers, along with Dominic, Evan—Laird O’Reid—and William—Laird Rottrich—along with several other lairds and male guests who had been invited to attend the celebration the following day. Most had come with their families in tow.

A supper of cold cuts was enjoyed by the gentlemen, much ale and whisky was drunk, some gambling took place, and much loud laughter ensued, as was reported by the servants who ventured in.

Inevitably, drunken singing broke out in the late hours, and in his enthusiasm, Bellamy insisted on dragging in the piper who had come to bless the union into the chamber with them all and feeding him copious amounts of whisky before getting the man to play for hours on end.

At one point, the din was so loud that Daisy, Dakota, Delilah, Violet, Elodie, Poppy, and some of the maids came to sit on the landing near Bellamy’s chambers, giggling at the caterwauling going on inside.

“D’ye think he’s goin’ to make it to the wedding?” Dakota teased Daisy when Bellamy could be heard belting out a ballad in an inebriated fashion, with spirited choral support that was not always quite on key from Dominic, Jamie, Evan, and William.

“He’d better be,” Daisy joked, hoping she was right.

The bride had her little party, too, in the larger chambers she was sharing that night with her sisters. There was wine for the ladies and lemonade for Elodie and Violet, and plenty of sweet and savory tidbits to nibble on throughout the night.

Despite all this revelry, Jamie was up with Poppy at the crack of dawn on the morning of the wedding, along with the servants, all working together to make sure that all the arrangements were in place and everything went smoothly.

The day dawned fair, and it was not long before the paraphernalia of the wedding breakfast began to spill out into the castle courtyard and onto the castle green. From early morning, spits loaded with varieties of roasting meat dripped their delicious, aromatic juices into pans held by kitchen skivvies, who in turn used it to baste the joints.

Trestle tables were set up to accommodate a plethora of drinking vessels, flasks and bottles of liquor of all kinds, and barrels of ale, which were wheeled out and tapped ready for consumption.

Tables and benches were arranged to seat the fifty guests who had been invited, comprising family and friends. Banners, floral garlands, and even the tablecloths bearing the embroidered initials D and B artfully entwined with the sigils of Clan McGunn and Clan Murdoch were decked about. A small stage suitable for musicians had been erected, and a large rectangular space between the tables was designated as the dance floor.

In the bride’s chambers, all was abuzz.

“For a lassie who swore she wouldnae get wed, ye seem very excited about tomorrow,” Dakota teased. She and Delilah had helped Daisy into her wedding gown and were now fussing over the final details.

“Have ye nae seen the groom?” Violet joked, dabbing perfume behind Daisy’s ears and pressing a little powder to her forehead and nose. “She’ll be running down that aisle, I reckon.”

“Aye, ye’ve picked yerself a braw one there, all right,” Dakota agreed, and Delilah nodded.

Daisy blushed but felt very proud of herself.

“The gown is lovely, and it suits ye perfectly,” Violet said, kissing Daisy’s cheek affectionately. “And I made ye some garters for yer stockings.” She presented Daisy with a set of beautiful garters embroidered with tiny daisies.

“They are lovely!” Daisy gushed, hugging her. “Och, thank ye so much, Violet. I’m very touched. Help me put them on, will ye?”

She pulled up the hem of her dress, and they slipped the garters over her silk stockings.

“I feel sure they’ll bring us good luck,” she told Violet with a wink.

Her wedding gown was of ivory silk, with a narrow waist, a square neckline, and hemmed with lace. It was finished with a sash of the McGunn tartan and a matching pearl necklace and earrings gifted to her by Bellamy.

Around her wrist was tied the scarf of Murdoch tartan that Bellamy had bought her at the market, to use in the traditional knot-tying ceremony during the wedding. Bellamy would be wearing one of Murdoch tartan, too.

“Ye look stunning,” Delilah said as she tweaked Daisy’s veil and hair, which had been beautifully styled around a lovely crown of early roses made and gifted to her for the big day by Elodie.

“It’s absolutely wonderful,” Daisy had told the little girl when she had proudly presented it to her the night before. “I cannae wait to wear it. Thank ye, hinny.” She had hugged Elodie tightly and kissed her hair, deeply touched by the gesture.

“I’m so happy ye’re goin’ to be me new Ma, Daisy,” Elodie had whispered in her ear.

“Och, I love ye, Elodie, and I’ll always try me very best to be a good ma to ye,” Daisy had managed to whisper back, half choked with emotion. “I’m very proud of ye. Are ye looking forward to being me bridesmaid?”

“’T’will be the best day of me life,” Elodie had said, radiating excitement. “I never thought Da would ever get married, but now I have ye, and I get to wear a lovely dress. I’m getting lots of new cousins, too, which is fun.” She had paused, looking wistful for a moment. “I just wish me real ma was here to see me.”

Daisy’s heart had gone out to her, and she had hugged her a little harder. “I ken how ye feel, pet, but I’m sure she’s looking down on ye and is very proud of her wee lassie, too,” she had told her, wanting to believe it herself.

“I wanted to ask ye, d’ye think she’d mind if I call me new pony by her name?” the little girl had asked, looking hesitant.

Daisy had chuckled. “Well, all I can tell ye is that if ’t’was me, I’d be very honored, for she’s a very fine pony, indeed,” she said.

Elodie looked relieved and beamed at her. “Grand. I’m goin’ to call her Bridie, then, in memory of her.”

Finally, Dakota and Delilah stood back and inspected their handiwork, standing behind Daisy as she looked at herself in the looking glass.

“Is that really me?” Daisy asked, staring in amazement at the beautiful bride in the mirror.

“Aye, that’s ye, all right, Sister.” Delilah laughed. “I’d ken ye anywhere.” She embraced her and said, “’Tis such a grand day, little sister. The last of us Winfrey girls to wed. I never thought the day would come. But after everything that’s happened, here we all are together.” She wiped a small tear from her eye and laughed at herself.

“Och, ye look a picture, Sister,” Dakota put in, looking Daisy over with an approving nod.

“Thank ye for doing all this for me,” Daisy told them, kissing and hugging them all gratefully.

Just then, Poppy came in with Elodie, Abigail, and Margaret—the bridesmaids. All were dressed in their finery.

“Och, ye make a fine bride, Daisy,” Poppy cried, her hand going to her mouth when she saw her. “No, Lady Elodie, dinnae go and hug her and make her dress all wrinkly,” she added, catching the child by the shoulder just as she was about to race into Daisy’s arms.

“Och, sorry!” Elodie apologized, grinning and blowing a kiss instead. Nevertheless, Daisy went and gave her a cuddle.

“Ye look beautiful. Now, are ye all ready for the ceremony? I think ’tis nearly time for us to go down.”

“Aye, it is,” Dakota said. “Are ye nervous, little sister?” she asked, taking Daisy’s arm as they proceeded out of the room.

“Aye, well, nervous and excited. I never thought I’d say this, but I cannae wait to get married!”

Laughter trailed after them down the hallway as they went down to the chapel on the ground floor of the keep.

When Daisy entered with her entourage, the room seemed to be holding its breath in hushed expectation. The faces of the congregation, a colorful blur to her, turned to her almost as one as she took her first steps up the aisle.

Her eyes were drawn to the tall, noble figure standing waiting for her at the altar, with the minister in front of him. Hearing her footsteps, Bellamy turned around, and when their eyes met, he gave her a look that managed to be both adoring and hungry at the same time.

When she saw how handsome he looked in his full clan regalia, she almost swooned. His black velvet coat fitted his broad shoulders to perfection, and his kilt and stockings showed off his long, muscular legs. He was freshly shaved, and his hair had been combed into some sort of order. She could hardly wait to muss it later on when they were alone.

Her breath left her body as she took in her handsome husband-to-be. She had to admit that Violet had been right. She did want to lift her skirts and race down the aisle to be married to him.

Finally, she reached him.

They shared a smile as she took her place beside him at the altar. At least, she hoped he could see she was smiling through her veil. When it came to reciting their vows, she had to force herself to pay close attention to what the minister was saying. Bellamy spoke his vows perfectly in his rumbling baritone voice, but Daisy had to concentrate.

Just standing next to him, feeling his warmth, his love radiating off him, and knowing they were to shortly be man and wife, was like her every dream coming true. Somehow, she got through the vows, and then Jamie came up to do his duty, binding their wrists together with the strips of tartan.

His practice paid off because it went perfectly, and once the knot was tied and the couple was pronounced man and wife, Jamie slid the knot carefully off and laid it down, to be preserved as a symbol of the union of Daisy and Bellamy and the McGunns and the Murdochs.

“I now pronounce ye man and wife!” the minister declared, at last. “Ye may kiss the bride.”

In fact, the groom was already kissing the bride, and she was kissing him back most heartily. The congregation roared its approval, with a chorus of whoops and whistles, stomping and applause.

The bride and groom and the company were then piped all the way to the dining hall. The doors of the great room had been opened to the gardens, providing plenty of room for both indoor and outdoor celebrations.

The company poured into the space and arranged themselves while the happy couple took their position behind a raised table. The traditional ceremony of the quaich was then conducted, with Jamie filling the quaich, the two-handled lovers’ cup, full to the brim with whisky.

Bellamy and Daisy held a handle each, smiling at each other over the rim as they drank together, to bring good luck to their union and the joining of their clans. The quaich was then replenished regularly as it was passed around the company, and each of the guests took a drink to bless the marriage.

Then, with great aplomb, the piper piped to ensure good luck and a happy marriage, and the feast was declared open. The musicians struck up a lively tune, the dancing took off, and the party was soon in full swing.

Bellamy and Daisy opened the dance floor and were quickly joined by Jamie and Poppy, Delilah and Evan, Dakota and William, Dominic and Violet, and a flood of other couples eager to partake in the celebration.

“Ye look so beautiful, wife, I can hardly wait to get ye alone,” Bellamy told Daisy in a low voice as they danced. His eyes gleamed wolfishly as he looked at her. “’Tis quite a shame that yer lovely dress will be coming off so soon.” He squeezed her waist.

Daisy batted her eyelashes at him, deliberately coquettish. “Well, I seem to remember ye did promise me ye would make up for us being apart last night, husband,” she said.

“Ye dinnae need to remind me, bonny lass. When I saw ye coming down the aisle looking like that, well, I could hardly contain meself. I must be the luckiest man alive.” He spun her around under his arm.

“And I’m the luckiest woman,” she said. “I love ye, Bellamy Kane.”

“And I love ye, Daisy Kane.”

And then, they were whirled off once more into the dance.

The End?