Bless This
D izzied by Ash's confession of love and the subsequent toe-curling kiss, Makenna gladly agreed to his suggestion she again accompany him to Lockie House. However, upon arrival, they were ushered into the parlor where she was surprised to see the King brothers and their wives in attendance.
She'd known Piper and Alba for several years, but Ash hadn't met them before. His narrowed eyes echoed her suspicion that something was afoot. She was proud of the way he bestowed a courtly kiss on each wife's knuckles when their husbands introduced him to them.
"My goodness," a blushing Piper exclaimed. "I haven't been greeted with such a gesture since I left London."
Her remark earned a scowl from her husband, but Ash seemed intrigued. "You're a Londoner?" he asked.
"I am. My parents are Oliver and Margaret Graham of Chelsea. "
"I know of them," he replied. "I heard your mother wasn't well for a while."
"Yes, a nervous breakdown, I'm afraid. My father writes that she's much improved."
"Graham?" he said, arching a brow in Jock's direction.
"My grandfather," she explained with a smile.
"Get on wi' it."
Startled, Makenna realized it was Lady Margaret's elderly brother who'd spoken. She hadn't seen him sitting in the shadows.
"Patience, Gregor," his sister replied. "All in good time."
"Can somebody explain what's goin' on?" she said, fearing the worst.
"Aye," Gregor replied. "We're all o' the opinion ye shouldna marry."
"Now, look here," Ash exclaimed, infuriated by these ignorant Scots.
"Keep yer powder dry, laddie," Gregor replied. "What we're suggestin' is a handfastin'."
"What?"
"Like the ceremony performed for Rowan and Daisy," Lady Maureen explained. "Ye remember."
At the time, Ash had been so resentful of his brother's choice of Niven as his best man, he'd been drunk even before the ceremony at the church. "I seem to recall something about tartans and spirits. "
He glanced at Makenna who was nodding thoughtfully. "Can you explain this to me, please?"
"'Tis an ancient highland tradition," she told him. "Very often in the past, a couple met each other for the first time on the day they were to marry. So, a handfastin' was performed. The bride and groom promised to live together as man and wife for a year and a day to see if they suited. If not, they were free to go their separate ways, provided no bairns came along."
"We think 'tis the best solution for ye both," Jock said. "Since ye barely know each other."
Ash privately acknowledged the concerns were valid, but he was certain of his feelings and didn't want to hurt Makenna. "What do you think of this?" he asked.
"I'm a highland lass," she replied. "To me, a handfastin' is as binding as a church ceremony. I trust ye to keep the promises ye'll make to me whether our union be blessed by Uncle Gregor or a pastor."
"Most of the couples in Glengeárr weren't married in a church," Piper added. "Uncle Gregor spoke the words over them."
"You're shaking your head, Alba," Ash said.
"My wife is from Spain, hence a devout Catholic," Payton explained. "She doesna hold wi' folk livin' together without the blessin' o' a priest."
" Pero , it is for Se?or Halstead and Makenna to decide," Alba replied.
Ash had picked up a few words of Spanish while fighting in the Peninsula Wars so he thanked her in her own language. His gesture earned him a smile from her and a scowl of disapproval from Payton .
"I agree, then," Ash announced. "Can we perform the handfasting now?"
Beside him, Makenna tensed. "Now? But we're nay properly dressed, and where would we spend our wedding night?"
Ash realized she was being diplomatic. He'd worked hard all day and his body bore evidence of it. He didn't fault her for wanting them both to look and smell their best! Had he married in England, he'd be togged out in tails and a top hat. God, what an idiotic figure he must have presented arriving in Dundee wearing a top hat. "On the morrow, then," he suggested, his mind working frantically on a solution to the problem of a marriage bed.
"And ye can have our best guest room for yer wedding night," Jock declared.
Ash ought to be miffed. Evidently, he hadn't previously qualified for the best guest room. However, Makenna's bright smile advised against any grousing about the garret where he'd been lodged.
The following morning, everyone gathered in the parlor of Lockie House."I've always loved this room," Makenna whispered to Ash. She supposed the low beams and the comfortable elegance of the space didn't seem grand to him, so she wasn't surprised when he simply smiled.
Never had she imagined she'd be marrying a man who looked like he'd walked off the pages of an Edinburgh fashion magazine. The Guthrie plaid draped over the shoulder of his morning coat seemed incongruous but she appreciated the gesture. She probably had Piper to thank for that.
She knew nothing about cravats, but Ash had apparently spent a great deal of time tying his, only to complain he'd worn cravats all his life but now felt like he was being strangled.
Clad in traditional highland garb, Tavish, Payton and Jock could have passed for braw clan warriors from a previous century.
The women all wore traditional arisaids , as did Makenna. She looked forward to one day telling her bairns that a Dowager Duchess had styled her hair in a sophisticated arrangement atop her head.
She'd finally managed to make her parents understand she was getting married this day, but they'd been reluctant to rouse themselves from the rocking chairs beside the hearth. "I'll take you to meet them afterwards," she told Ash, thankful he seemed to understand that senility was the reason for their absence and nothing to do with him.
When Jock struck up the pipes, Gregor Lockie entered the parlor, bringing with him an air of dignity and history. A hush fell as he began the ceremony. Makenna had a sudden reassuring sense that she was marrying the right man.
Ash found it hard to believe the proud highlander leading the ceremony was the same elderly curmudgeon he'd met before. He suddenly wished he too had worn a kilt, which was ridiculous. He didn't have the well muscled legs all these Scots seemed to have. Something to do with walking everywhere, perhaps.
Gregor's voice jolted him from his reverie.
"Today, we ask that the infinite light of the divine shine upon this ceremony. In that spirit, I offer a blessing. Join hands, if ye please."
He looped a silken cord around their joined hands in a figure eight then took the plaid from Ash's shoulder and covered the binding. "Bless this union with communication of the heart, mind, body and soul."
Ash nodded. Bodily communication sounded good.
"Bless this union with the heat of passion, and the warmth of a loving home."
A truth struck Ash full force. He'd had sexual relations with countless women, but none of them had ever ignited passion in his heart. It had all been about alleviating male needs and thumbing his nose at everyone who thought he wasn't good enough to be a duke. Makenna was different. He thirsted to worship her body. He craved a home full of love.
"Are ye payin' attention, laddie?" Gregor demanded.
"Aye, sorry," Ash replied without forethought, eliciting a chuckle from Tavish.
"Bless this union with the excitement of a raging river, the pure cleansing of a rainstorm, and a commitment as deep as the ocean itself.
"Bless this union with a solid foundation on which to build yer lives, abundance and growth of yer home, and the reassurance to be found by holding one another at the end of the day."
Ash turned to look at Makenna. Their gazes met. "I love ye," she mouthed. Heart racing, he couldn't wait to thank Rowan for sending him into exile in Scotland.
"I'll ask again for yer full name, laddie," Gregor demanded.
"Er…Ash…Halstead."
Gregor rolled his rheumy eyes. "And what is yer desire?"
Ash pulled himself together. He'd practiced this with Jock. "To join with Makenna Guthrie whom I love."
"Will ye seek to do her harm?"
"I will not."
"And if harm is done, will ye seek to repair it?"
"I will."
"Will ye seek to be honest with her in all things?"
"I will."
"Will ye support her in times of distress?"
"I will."
"Will ye temper yer words and actions with love?"
"I will."
"These things ye have promised to yer partner, before this company and the Gods. May ye ever be mindful and strive to keep the vows ye have spoken."
"Amen," Ash declared.
Uncle Gregor posed the same questions to Makenna and she responded in a clear voice, vowing to keep the promises she had made. Ash's gut twisted when the old man asked for the rings, something he'd completely forgotten. He quickly removed the gold signet ring from his little finger and offered it.
Gregor examined the ring then turned to Makenna. "Calm yerself, lass, 'tis a fine piece."
Ash realized Makenna was agitated because she had no ring to give him, so he sought to reassure her. "Given to me by my father on my twenty-first birthday."
Tears welled in her eyes, but they were tears of appreciation for what the ring meant to him.
"Now, I bid ye look into one another's eyes and hearts. Ash Halstead, please place the ring on Makenna's finger. Do ye promise to give her honor and fidelity, to share her laughter and joy, to support and stand by her in times of difficulty, to dream and hope with her, and to spend each day loving her more than the day before?"
Ash slipped the ring on Makenna's finger and pronounced loudly. "I do."
"By the gift of this token of love for one another, so are yer lives interlaced. What one experiences, so shall the other; as honesty and love build, so will yer bond strengthen and grow. Ye've tied the knot so ye're now man and wife."
After Gregor removed the tartan and cord, Ash wasn't invited to kiss his bride, but he did anyway, hoping his kiss conveyed all the love and honor burning in his heart.