A Hellion at the Highland Court (The Highland Ladies #9) - Celeste Barclay Page 0,65
she didn’t trust herself not to cause a scene if they were in one another’s company. She also avoided the ladies-in-waiting when she could. She’d thought to go riding with her guards, but she recalled what Brodie said about not wanting to travel with her because of the murder of Eliza MacMillan. Laurel didn’t trust the Lamonts and MacDougalls not to set their sights on her. She opted to remain at the castle, spending as much time as she could in her old chamber. She and Ina packed most of Laurel’s belongings, but she spent much of her time creating a beautiful gown from the fabric Brodie gave her. She embellished the new slippers with intricate embroidery, and her project gave her a sense of purpose. The nights were painfully lonely; she laid in her bed wondering where Brodie was and if he was safe. She remembered when her father and Monty rode out and the uncertainty of whether they would return. But the aching pain her fear created was far greater now that she’d fallen in love.
The only time she couldn’t wholly avoid people was at the evening meal. Whispers went around when people noticed Brodie was no longer at court. As the days dragged on, and the Monday of their wedding came and went, Laurel struggled to ignore the speculation that Brodie wouldn’t return. Doubt wormed its way into her mind as she waited for his return, but there was no sign of when—or rather if—Brodie would come back for her. While the comments and barbs annoyed her, Nelson MacDougall was the only man to make her uncomfortable. He watched her like a hawk whenever she was in the Great Hall, and she noticed him turning up whenever she joined the ladies. She reminded herself that he was courting Margaret Hay, but he seemed less interested in Margaret and more interested in taunting Laurel.
“Lady Campbell!”
Laurel turned to find a man in a Campbell plaid hurrying toward her. She recalled the man’s name was Michael, and he’d ridden out with Brodie. She looked past Michael’s shoulders, then looked at him as he drew near.
“Ma laird sent me ahead to tell ye that he will be here within the hour. He wishes ye to meet him at the kirk. He—uh—” Michael glanced away nervously. “He—uh—said that ye are to be there, or he will drag ye to yer wedding in naught but yer chemise if he must.”
“An hour? Laird Campbell will be here within the hour?”
“Aye, ma lady,” Michael nodded. Laurel looked in the castle chapel’s direction and was ready to run there now. But she forced herself to be reasonable. She was going to stand before the entire court and pledge herself to Brodie just as he would to her. She wore one of her plainer gowns, and her hair hung in a loose braid down her back. She had time to make herself more presentable, and she wanted to look her best for Brodie.
“Does the king ken yet?”
“Nay. I was on ma way to the Privy Council when I spotted ye, ma lady.”
“Thank you, Michael. Inform the king and assure him that I will be there, ready for Laird Campbell to join me.” The two parted ways, and Laurel dashed to her chamber. There wasn’t time to bathe and dry her hair, so she washed with the basin and ewer, rubbing lavender oil into her skin when she finished. She sat before Ina as the maid created an exquisite coiffure while Laurel tried to relax. Her emotions were a jumble, vacillating from joy and relief that Brodie was safe and on his way to nervousness and excitement to see him, impatience to touch him, and trepidation about standing before the entire court to say their vows. She would have rather avoided the public scrutiny, but she’d known it was coming.
“Which gown will ye wear, ma lady?” Ina broke into her thoughts.
“The new one. I’m glad that I finished it last eve.”
“Laird Campbell will be reight chuffed with himself for having chosen such a bonnie bride. Nay one will be saying ye’re livin’ tally again,” Ina beamed.
“People don’t believe we handfasted?” Laurel gasped. “They think we were living in sin for two days?”
“Och, people blather aboot aught. But dinna take it to heart, ma lady. They will all see when Laird Campbell kisses ye. And I ken he will. And likely before the end of the ceremony.”
Laurel appreciated Ina trying to lift her spirits, but it wasn’t working. She