AllFreeNovel
Share Us
CHAPTER1
“Och,dae ye hear that? ‘Tis almost time,” Allison squealed. The round, gray-haired maid bounced like a bunny off the tips of her toes as her pudgy, little hands clapped ferociously. The maid’s cheeks flushed as a smile lit up her eyes like welcoming lanterns on a cold dark night.
Saoirse McPherson glanced at the window, straining her ears. The sound of the majestic bagpipe seeped into her bones, giving her a little slice of peace among the chaos that engulfed her.
A smile played at the corners of her lips as her eyes shifted to her mother, Iona, whose patience was being tested by her two youngest daughters—Elena and Isobel.
“Will ye two stop that, or so help me, I’ll get yer faither up here to have a word wit’ the both of ye! We are here to get yer sister ready for the weddin’. Either get to helpin’ or get out.” Iona snapped her fingers, and the two girls jumped at the crack of it. It was a rare day when their mother lost any morsel of her temper.
“But it is my turn to wear it!” Isobel huffed, her little hands balled into fists at her side as she tried to contain the irritation in her voice. A moment later, she lunged for Elena, trying to snatch the delicate, lace veil out of her sister’s hand.
“Ye had yer turn five minutes ago.” Elena giggled as she taunted her younger sister with the veil, waving it like a flag and keeping it just out of reach of Isobel’s eager hands.
“There are nay turns, ye wee rabblerousers! This belongs to yer sister. She doesnae want ye puttin’ creases and hairs all over it,” Iona said, plucking the veil from Elena’s fingers. The older woman smoothed out the thin fabric and stared at it for a moment. Saoirse noticed the gleam in her mother’s eyes as tears started to well.
“Are ye all right?” Saoirse asked, reaching a hand to her mother. To ease the roiling in the pit of her stomach, she needed the contact.
Iona flashed her a smile and pulled in a deep breath. “It seems like only yesterday that ye were a bairn in my arms, and now ye’re gettin’ married.” Her face scrunched as she tried to keep the tears from falling.
“It was goin’ to happen sooner or later,” Saoirse replied, her heart filling with so much joy that she thought she would burst with it.
Yet, it was a strange sadness that tempered her brimming heart and brought sudden tears to her own eyes. A heaviness in her soul that she couldn’t hide with her nervous excitement, as she observed her family, or those that were present anyway: three of her younger sisters—Georgia, Elena, Isobel—and their mother. Her older sister, Anna, was painfully absent. Recently married herself, she was the only one who could have offered Saoirse advice and encouragement.
I will leave this place soon, and I daenae ken if I am ready for what’s to come.Once Saoirse was married, Baxter Keep would cease to be her home, and she would have to live with her husband at his residence.
My husband…Her chest tightened at the thought of marrying a complete stranger. She had heard his name in passing over the last few months, but had never once laid eyes on him. The anticipation bubbled within her, mingling with fear and hesitation. She had faith in her mother and father, certain that they would not have matched her with someone unsuitable or unkind, but it was still a rather frightening leap to make.
Swallowing hard, she bit the tip of her thumb’s fingernail as the doubt rose like high tide, choking what little hope she had been clinging to. “What if he doesnae like me?” She turned in her seat to face her mother.
Iona glared at the veil as she smoothed out the gossamer fabric. In the mirror, Saoirse watched her mother place it carefully on her head. Her sisters gaped enviously.
“’Tis a good thing ye lassies dinnae ruin this, or I’d have stopped ye goin’ to the weddin’ at all.” Iona huffed a relieved sigh, before turning her full attention back to Saoirse. Flashing her nervous daughter a smile, she dropped her shoulders. “What is there nae to like? Ye’re intelligent and beautiful and he will come to love ye. Ye have to remember, my flower, he hasnae laid eyes on ye. But I ken in my heart, Laird Huxtable will take one look at ye and be instantly besotted.”
Behind her, her youngest sisters pretended to swoon, stifling giggles and clasping at their chests. If they were not careful, their mother really would send their father up there, though the older woman was doing her best to ignore her wayward children.
“But how can ye be sure I’ll have what ye and Faither have?” Saoirse asked, as Elena and Isobel lost interest and began chasing one another around the room. “Ye both love each other so much. Is it silly of me to hope for the same?”
“Well, the truth of the matter is, my dear,” Iona’s voice was smooth and delicate. “Ye cannae have what we have. Nae yet at least. Ye have to understand, me and yer faither took years to become what we are now. Just like ye, I was nervous and scared on my weddin’ day, but I kenned my place in the family and what I had to dae. Just as I ken ye dae.”
Saoirse dropped her head, only to be met with tender, sympathetic hands slipping around her shoulders. It did little to bolster her confidence. All the hope and anticipation for what this marriage would bring seemed to slip through her fingers like sand. The nagging of uncertainty stretched her stomach into knots as her chest tightened.
Resting elegant fingers under Saoirse’s chin, Iona lifted Saoirse’s head up, causing their eyes to meet. Pulling in a long, deep breath, Saoirse noted her mother’s steady gaze. It wasn’t full of deception or trickery, to falsely lull Saoirse into thinking everything would be a fairytale—what she saw was the compassion and love that only a mother could bestow, and maybe that was enough.
“Ye cannae have what we have, but ye’ll find yer own way of bein’ happy. After all, every love is different. Ye ken?” Iona said, as she dropped her hands from Saoirse’s face and moved around her like a cat, observing her reflection from every angle. “I think yer hair up would look better instead of having it down, daenae ye think?”
Saoirse drew her eyes to meet her mother’s, in the mirror, and gave a whisper of a smile. “Whatever ye think best.”
Iona ran her long, slender fingers through Saoirse’s fair hair, scooping it up onto the top of her daughter’s head in a soft, loose style that left some wavy strands free.
“Och aye, that does look lovely,” Allison said, quickly replacing her stubby fingers with Iona’s before beginning to pin up Saoirse’s hair as suggested.
“We have it!” Two clashing voices whipped Saoirse’s head toward the door, almost destroying Allison’s swift work as pins went flying.
Ayda—the only younger sister missing from the usual quartet—and Anna rushed into the room, waving a bouquet of wildflowers. The two sisters stopped dead in their tracks, eyes wide, mouths open. Their lips twitched as if they both wanted to comment but couldn’t find the words.
It was Anna who found her voice first. “Oh, daenae ye look beautiful!” she gushed, fanning a hand in front of her eyes as if to dry any tears before they could spill.
Heat rushed through Saoirse’s face as she turned her glance away from the two newcomers.
