“I’m sure it’s only the gown. Or my happiness,” Riona said as she looked down at the scarlet dress that Eleanor had given her. She had no finer gown, and after what had happened the first time she’d worn it, she couldn’t resist wearing it today. Eleanor had helped her add some new fabric to the bodice, though, so that the gown wasn’t so tight or the neckline so low. Eleanor had also cleverly made it seem as if the embroidered panels had always been a part of the dress, not later additions.
Nicholas didn’t know that she was wearing the scarlet gown. She’d sworn Eleanor, Polly and Fredella to secrecy and they’d worked on it only in this chamber. She was looking forward to seeing the expression on his face—not quite as much as she was looking forward to being his bride, but it was something that made her smile every time she thought of it.
“I think youdolook beautiful,” Polly insisted, “and so will Sir Nicholas.” She studied Riona some more. “Aren’t you going to braid your hair or put it up?”
Riona shook her head. Nicholas loved her hair, and she would wear it this way for him.
“Is there anything else you need me for, my lady?” Polly’s eyes sparkled mischievously. “Need any advice from an old married lady?”
“I hardly think a week of marriage allows one to be considered ‘an old married lady,’” Riona observed, “although it would depend on the husband, I suppose.”
“That’s true, I daresay,” Polly said with a merry laugh. “In that case, I expect to be a bride forever.”
“So do I,” Riona said, sharing a companionable smile. “Thank you, Polly. All I need do now is wait for Uncle Fergus. You go on. I’ll see you in the chapel.”
“And Thomas, too. Mind, I never thought Sir Nicholas would invite us to sit in the hall, and above the salt. I’ll hardly know how to act! Sara and Lilah will be thinking I’m getting above myself, but I swear I’m humble as can be, my lady, except for being proud to be Thomas’s wife.”
“I know exactly how you feel,” Riona said.
The cheerful Polly—maidservant no longer, but busy farmer’s wife except on this special day—hurried away, leaving Riona alone to wait for Uncle Fergus, who was to escort her to the chapel, and Nicholas.
There was a rap at the door and Riona turned, expecting to see her uncle.
Kenneth stood there, dressed in his finestfeileadhand shirt and boots, looking shy and awkward as if he wasn’t sure he belonged there.
Riona squealed with delight and rushed to embrace him. “Oh, Kenneth, you’re here! I’m so glad!”
He hugged her, too. “Of course I am. I couldn’t miss this. But you could have knocked me down with a breath when I heard you were marrying the Norman.” He pulled back and examined her smiling face. “It’s true, then? This isn’t some rumor spread by the Normans for reasons I’m too dim to fathom?”
“It’s true,” she said, her smile growing. “And I couldn’t be happier. Nicholas is a wonderful man. You’ll see.”
“So Father was right about him after all? My God, I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“No, I expect you won’t,” she said, laughing and already imagining Uncle Fergus’s version of what had happened here in Dunkeathe.
“And Father getting married, too! Is it something in the well water here, or what?”
“I don’t think so,” Riona replied, “but perhaps you’d better be careful what you drink.”
“Aye, or who knows what might happen?” he said in a boyishly offhand manner as he wandered farther into her chamber.
She knew him too well to be fooled by his attempted nonchalance.
“How’s Aigneas?”
“Well, and very happy. She’s handfasted with a fellow from the next valley.”
“Oh, I see. Have you met any of the young ladies here? Lavinia and Priscilla and Eleanor?”
“Aye. They were all flitting about the hall and made a great fuss over me when they found out who I was.”
“I’m sure they did, and you being such a braw, bonny fellow, too. It’s a pity Lavinia and Priscilla are already spoken for, isn’t it?”
Kenneth ran his hand along the window sill as if checking that the mason had done a proper job. “Aye, they were all bonny lasses. That’s a nice gown you’ve got on, Riona.”
He was trying to change the subject, but she wasn’t going to let him. “It was Eleanor’s. She’s a sweet and generous girl. Did your father tell you she’s going to go back to Glencleith with you after the wedding?”
Kenneth glanced at her sharply. “She is?”
