Chapter Thirteen

Laird Hay was correct about the dress lady Alice had gifted to Braylin. The silk was very ill-suited to the winter weather.

Braylin shivered when Erin removed the loose over-gown that had kept Braylin warm throughout the day.

"No need to be so nervous," Erin muttered.

No, no need at all. It was odd how often weddings turned out to be happy events for everyone but the two people taking the sacrament.

Braylin felt a tug on her hair as Erin began to brush it out. The silence was so complete, Braylin could hear the sound of the comb moving through the strands. Erin opened her mouth twice before managing to think of something cheerful to say.

"The silk of the dress will glow in the candlelight. Ye will make a very fine picture on the way to yer groom. He is certain to be pleased."

Her groom…

Lady Alice had constructed a solid trap and now there was no escape. Braylin felt her temper flare. "I believe I have had quite enough of your mistress tampering with my life."

Erin gasped, then nodded. "I suppose ye have a valid point. But life is nae fair, especially not for women. We must take things as they come. Lady Hay will be yer mistress now, as well."

Her temper lessened. Erin was right.

"Dugan has forever been beneath lady Alice's thumb. Perhaps ye are truly a fine pairing and this wedding will finally satisfy the lady that her children's positions are secure," Erin offered.

"Secure?" Braylin asked. "How could such a thing be in question when Dugan is illegitimate and there is a legitimate son?"

Erin shrugged. "It's all well and good to have the blessing of the Church when a babe is born but a clan cannot be without a strong laird. If something happened to our laird, a half-grown son would nae be able to keep the Hay from being challenged. Why do ye think the laird keeps Dugan so close to his side?"

At Braylin's confused look, Erin continued. "Cormac took the lairdship because there was only a wee little lad in direct line when our last laird met his end. Lady Alice knows it well."

And the lady was using Braylin to secure her position. Braylin felt her temper stir again.

"Yer face is turning red. Best to make peace with yer temper," Erin admonished. "The way I heard it, ye and Dugan were getting along very well when the storeroom door was opened."

"Gossip is a sin," Braylin retorted.

"Kissing in the storerooms will be labeled one as well unless ye are wed," Erin answered knowingly. "It's best to not look at the details too closely. No one else will. Dugan will make a fine husband for ye and if there is someone back in England that ye had yer heart set on, best to look forward."

Because she was stuck in Lady Alice's trap. Braylin's cheeks remained warm but at least her temper burned away the sick feeling that had been threatening to turn her stomach inside out.

There was a solid rap on the door of the chamber. A moment later, Lady Alice entered. Braylin rose out of habit.

"Let me see you," Lady Alice instructed.

Braylin folded her hands together while the lady swept her gaze over her. "There are no flowers for yer hair, so I have brought ye some ribbon. Erin? Dress her hair quickly. The priest is waiting, and supper is ready."

Erin softly touched Braylin's shoulder, instructing her to sit again. The delicate silk of the dress she wore puffed out and settled around Braylin like a cloud. It also allowed a cold draft of air to chill her legs.

"Do you have any questions?" Lady Alice asked pointedly.

It took Braylin a long moment to understand just what the lady was hinting at.

The marriage consummation…

Braylin shook her head. Perhaps that wasn't the wisest choice she'd ever made for she truly had no inkling of just what was expected of her once the sacrament was given and she was left alone with her groom for the physical act that would complete their union.

But she refused to look to Lady Alice for mentoring.

"I see," Lady Alice clicked her tongue in reprimand. "You are not ignorant of the marriage bed. It seems you owe me a great deal of gratitude for making sure you are wed instead of just bedded."

"I am pure." Braylin stood up to square off with Lady Alice.

Lady Alice raised an eyebrow and smiled. "Pure? Ye went off to dance under the moonlight on Samhain. There is a wild streak in ye, no mistake about it." The lady sounded amused, and she wasn't finished. "Seeing ye wed to Dugan will solve a difficulty for me, hence I will overlook the fact that ye are English and not in good standing with Mother Church. Never forget that I am mistress of this house. Ye will answer to me, as will yer children and those who serve ye."

Erin was watching their conversation, wide-eyed and several Hay retainers stood by the door, looking on as well. Braylin's need to rail against the woman responsible for tearing her away from her family had to give way to the reality of her circumstances.

Lady Alice was the mistress of the stronghold.

And Dugan would not take Braylin back home.

No, he's going to marry you and bind you to this place…

Braylin lowered herself. In all her days, she had never fought so very hard to perform a curtsey. Every muscle felt taut enough to snap. Her jaw was clenched so tightly, she wouldn't have been surprised to hear a tooth cracking. She lowered her eyes to complete the picture.

They wouldn't know her thoughts though…

She heard a grunt of approval from the doorway where the retainers were still eyeing her intently. Lady Alice reached out and raised Braylin's chin so that their gazes met again.

"An excellent start." Lady Alice sounded like she was purring. She leaned in close and muttered, "Do yerself a favor and have a girl baby."

*

"Ye are fussing over him, Brody," Cormac Hay said, announcing his arrival with a critique.

Dugan reached up to tug on his cap. Cormac waved his hand, dismissing the need for a formal curtsey in a closed chamber. He squared off in front of Dugan, his gaze hard. But Dugan didn't look away.

"I will wed the lass, father," Dugan stated.

"My wife has already done enough to that little English lass," Cormac argued. "Ye do not need to wed her tonight."

Dugan drew in a deep breath. It wasn't his father who was making him impatient. No, the truth was, he wanted to stride back into the hall and take the blessing of marriage before anything interfered. But it appeared that the only one stopping him from claiming Braylin as his own was standing right in front of him. Dugan stood his ground.

"The lass will be shamed if I do not meet her in front of the priest," Dugan said. "And so will ye father, for all will say that ye are soft with me."

Cormac grunted. "If ye wed after that little bit of drama me wife just enacted, everyone will be saying how easily I bend to the whims of a shrewish woman."

"I want to wed Braylin." Dugan decided to finish the matter by admitting his feelings.

"And now my lady wife has made it easy to get that girl to meet ye at the altar," Cormac groused. "I would have found ye a better bride."

Dugan grinned. "I like Braylin, father. I hope ye will raise a toast to us." Dugan reached up to tug on his bonnet again before he turned around and went toward the hall where the priest was waiting.

*

"To me son!" Laird Hay raised his goblet high. The great hall went silent as the laird spoke. People grabbed their cups, raising them up to join the toast.

Braylin's throat was so tight, she couldn't even manage to swallow even a sip of liquid.

Because the ceremony was so sudden, the cook hadn't had time to prepare any lavish dishes. The head of house had tried to cover the lack of delicacies by opening several bottles of fine French wine. Braylin had her fingers laced around the stem of a goblet containing a generous measure of the dark brew.

Dugan lifted his goblet toward his father.

"Drink up, Dugan!" Cormac encouraged his son. "Refill the lad's cup!"

Lady Alice's eyes narrowed. She suddenly stood up. "It's time to take the bride above stairs!"

Cormac grumbled something against the rim of his goblet. Braylin didn't catch just what it was because Ryesen and others were pulling on her, taking her away from the high ground and off into the passageways that were lit only by candle lanterns, now that the sun had set.

Braylin stepped on the front of her skirt when they started up the stairs because the group was pushing her so fast.

"Do nae ye know how to raise yer skirt in England?" Niamh muttered crossly.

Somehow, Erin was there, popping up from between Niamh and another matron.

Erin took the lead, pulling Braylin through the open door of a chamber. The rest of the women followed, filling the space.

"Let's get on with this," Niamh declared. "Strip her down so we can inspect her."

Braylin's stomach lurched. Inspections were part of weddings. She knew it, even if she was unsure of just what would be happening later in the evening. The inspection though, Braylin understood.

Every inch of her was to be viewed by experienced women. To ensure she was unmarked by disease or deformities or by consorting with demons.

It was a necessary evil to protect her in the future should Dugan or his kin try to annul her union and keep her dowry.

Well, you have no dowry.

Still, the inspection was a wise thing to submit to. Being English, she didn't need to have any shadows that might be pointed out or gossiped about.

Braylin clenched her hands. The women took the layers of her clothing away until nothing was left. They even lifted her hair up to make sure they saw all of the skin on her back. The older matrons didn't draw the matter out, thankfully, but headed for the door, taking Niamh with them.

"Well, that's finished," Erin said cheerfully.

Erin held up a clean chemise, gathering up the sleeves so that Braylin only had to lift her hands and fit them into the openings. Then she dropped the soft linen garment over Braylin so that it fell into place.

They finished none too soon, either. Through the door they heard a ruckus on the steps. The men were coming up the stairs, their suggestions causing Braylin's eyes to widen.

They didn't knock.

Braylin stumbled back when the door burst inward. Erin sucked her breath, dashing across the chamber to grab an over-gown and return to drape it over Braylin.

The men's smirks told Braylin they'd all gotten a good look at her in naught but her chemise.

"Enough." Dugan's voice was hard with authority. Braylin stared at him, never having heard him commanding others before.

The men had obviously heard the tone before though. They all shuffled, averting their gazes. It didn't take them long to return to the spirit of the evening.

"Yer bride is ready for ye—"

"Ye are falling behind, laddie—" One of them tried to strip Dugan's doublet off him.

"Enough fun," Brody declared. "Get on back to the hall with the lot of ye."

The men went but not before they stripped Dugan down to his shirt, laughing and slapping him on the back before they quit the room. Brody paused in the doorway.

"Come along, Erin. Best to let these two sort matters out alone." Brody tugged the maid out of the chamber.

Braylin looked at her new husband. She belonged to Dugan now.