Page 126 of Under the Laird’s Promise

"What? But the wedding isnae fer⁠—"

"Plans changed. Sinclair's coming. We're marrying today." Maighread pushed open her chamber door. "I need tae look presentable and ye're the only one I trust tae help me manage it quickly."

Kathleen followed her inside, already assessing the situation. "Right. First, ye need a bath. Ye cannae marry covered in blood and soot."

"There's nay time fer a proper bath."

"Then an improper one." Kathleen called for servants, who appeared with buckets of warm water within minutes. "Strip. Quickly."

Maighread obeyed, shedding the filthy dress while Kathleen poured water into the basin. The washing was fast and practical, removing the worst of the grime. Kathleen worked efficiently, scrubbing and rinsing without wasting a moment.

"Are ye certain about this?" Kathleen asked as she worked. "Marrying in such haste?"

"I've never been more certain of anything."

"Ye love him."

"Aye. Desperately."

Kathleen smiled. "Good. He loves ye too. Anyone with eyes can see it."

Within minutes, Kathleen toweled her dry and moved to the wardrobe, pulling out a gown of deep blue velvet. "This one. It's yer best and the color suits ye."

Maighread stepped into the gown and Kathleen laced it quickly, her fingers practiced and sure. The fabric settled around her, soft and rich. It wasn't elaborate, but it was beautiful.

"Yer hair," Kathleen said, already unpinning what remained of the braid. "We'll leave it loose. Tavish likes it that way."

"How dae ye ken that?"

"Because of the way he looks at ye whenever it's down. Like he's memorizing every strand." Kathleen brushed vigorously, working out tangles. "There. Simple but lovely."

Maighread caught sight of herself in the small mirror. Clean, dressed, hair falling in waves over her shoulders. She looked like a bride. A hastily prepared one, but a bride nonetheless.

"Perfect," Kathleen said softly. "He's going tae lose his mind when he sees ye."

"I hope so."

A knock sounded at the door. One of Tavish's men stood outside. "Me lady, the laird says everything is ready. "

Maighread's heart leaped. "Tell him I'm coming."

The man bowed and left. Maighread turned to Kathleen, suddenly nervous. "Is this mad? Marrying in such haste with war approaching?"

"Aye. Completely mad." Kathleen squeezed her hands. "But it's also the bravest, most romantic thing I've ever witnessed. Now go. Dinnae keep yer man waiting."

They walked together toward Maighread’s father’s chamber, who had been alerted of all the latest news. She had expressed wanting her father to witness the ceremony, and at such short notice, his rooms were the place it would be celebrated. When Maighread pushed open the door, she found Tavish waiting near the window with Greg, the priest. Her father sat propped up against the pillows in his bed, his face beaming with pride. He nodded at her when she looked over to him.

Tavish had cleaned up. Changed into fresh clothes, a dark tunic that made his eyes look even brighter. His hair was still damp from washing. When he saw her, his expression transformed into something that stole her breath.

"Sweet saints," he murmured. "Ye're beautiful."

"Ye're nae so terrible yersel'."

Greg grinned. "Shall we get this done before Sinclair shows up tae interrupt?"

The priest stepped forward, old and solemn. "Are we ready tae begin?"

Tavish held out his hand. Maighread crossed to him and placed her fingers in his. His grip was warm and steady.