threw down the remainder of the pins. ‘Let’s get you into your gown.’ She pulled the dress from its hanger and gave it a shake.
‘I’m getting nervous,’ Ainsley said as she stepped into it. ‘I haven’t thought about it until now. I’ve been too busy planning it, but it’s a big thing, Felicity. It’s really important for Innes that it goes well. I thought about asking Mhairi for a good luck spell, but asking her is probably bad luck. You’ve no idea how superstitious she can be.’
‘The housekeeper?’ Felicity was busy hooking the buttons on Ainsley’s gown. ‘Is she the witch?’
‘Her mother was.’
‘And she was the old laird’s mistress, too, you tell me. You should ask her for a potion. You know, just to make sure that there are no consequences from the palpitations your husband is giving you.’
Ainsley’s face fell. ‘I don’t think that will be necessary.’
‘Oh, Ainsley, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think.’
‘It doesn’t matter.’ Ainsley managed to smile. ‘Really. Are you done? May I look?’ Ainsley turned towards the mirror and shook out her skirts.
‘I do hope your Mr Drummond is making sure he takes appropriate measures.’ Felicity gave her a grave look. ‘You cannot take the risk.’
‘There is no risk, and even if there were, I am very sure that the last thing Innes would risk is such a complication.’ Seeing that her friend was about to question her further, Ainsley picked up her shawl. ‘We should go.’
‘Wait. I brought you something.’ Felicity handed her a velvet-covered box. ‘A belated wedding present. It’s not much, but it’s pretty.’
It was a gold pendant set with a tiny cluster of diamonds around an amethyst. Ainsley hugged her tightly. ‘It’s lovely. Thank you.’ She hugged Felicity again, then handed her the necklace to fasten. She stared down at her left hand, with the simple gold band Innes had given her more than two months ago. ‘Do you think I’ll pass muster. As the laird’s wife, I mean?’ she asked anxiously. ‘I don’t want to let Innes down.’
‘That is exactly the kind of talk I don’t want to hear. You will do your best, and that’s all you can do. The rest is up to him. He’s lucky to have you, Ainsley. Am I permitted to wish you good luck, or is that bad luck?’
‘I don’t know, probably.’
‘Then I will say what the actors say. Break a leg. But make sure that you do not break your heart.’ Felicity cast a quick glance at the mirror. ‘My hair. As usual. Give me just a minute, for that rather gorgeous man who brought me over in his rather rustic fishing boat yesterday is to be one of your escorts, and I’d like to look a little less ravaged than I did the last time he saw me.’
‘You mean Eoin?’
‘That’s the one. I am to be one of your Mr Drummond’s escorts in the walk to the chapel. He asked me last night.’ Felicity grimaced. ‘Two virgins, it’s supposed to be. I hope my lack of maidenhead will not bring you bad luck.’
Ainsley choked. ‘I think what matters is that you are unmarried. Shall we go?’
‘Are you ready?’
Ainsley kissed her cheek. ‘As I’ll ever be,’ she said.
* * *
Innes hadn’t thought about the ceremony until he was walking to the church between his escorts, with what felt like the entire population of Strone Bridge behind him. He was putting on a show, that was all. It was just a daft tradition; it meant something to the people who would be attending, but nothing to him. Except he felt nervous, and it did matter, and realising that made him feel slightly sick, because that meant Strone Bridge had come to matter, and that complicated everything.
It was not raining, which Eoin had assured him was a good sign. From somewhere behind him came the skirl of the bagpipes. On one side of him Felicity, Ainsley’s eccentric friend, picked her way along the path, sliding him what he could only describe as assessing glances every now and then. He wondered what Ainsley had told her. He doubted very much that this very self-assured and rather sultrily attractive woman fulfilled the criteria expected of his escort. Of Mhairi’s niece Flora’s qualifications, he had no doubt at all.
They arrived at the door of the church, and the crowd behind him filtered in to become the congregation. Begging a moment of privacy, Innes made his way alone to the Drummond Celtic cross, not to commune with the dead man so recently interred there, but the one whose corpse lay elsewhere. In a few moments, he was going to have to stand at that altar, in front of those people, and be blessed as the new laird. It should have been Malcolm standing there. If things had gone as they had been planned, as his brother had so desperately wanted them to, Malcolm would have been standing at that altar fourteen years ago beside Blanche, taking part in another ritual.
Blanche. He never allowed her name into his head. Until he’d come back to Strone Bridge, he rarely even allowed himself to think of Malcolm. Now, standing in front of the cross where Malcolm should have been buried, Innes felt overwhelmed with grief and regrets. If he could turn back time, make it all as it should be—Malcolm leading the Rescinding, Blanche at his side, and perhaps three or four bairns, too. Strone Bridge would be flourishing. The congregation would be celebrating.
‘And you,’ he hissed at the cross, ‘you would have gone to your grave a damn sight happier, that’s for sure. You never thought you’d see this day, any more than I did.’
Innes leaned his forehead on the cold stone and closed his eyes. If Malcolm could see what had happened to his precious lands, he’d be appalled. He could not bring his brother back, but he could do his damnedest to restore the lands to what they had been. ‘No, I can do better,’ Innes said to the stone. ‘I will make them flourish, better than they have ever, and what’s more, I’ll do it my way.’
For better or for worse, he thought to himself, turning his back on the cross. The same words he’d said in front of another altar not so very long ago, with Ainsley by his side. For better or for worse, it looked as if he’d made up his mind to stay here, for the time being. He’d rather have Ainsley by his side than any other woman. ‘For the time being, any road,’ he muttered, squaring his shoulders and making his way towards the chapel.
She was waiting at the porch, with Eoin and Robert by her side. She looked so nervous as she made her way towards him, Innes was worried for a moment that she might actually faint. Her gown was of pale silk, embroidered with pink and blue flowers. The long puffed sleeves gave it a demure look, at odds with the ruffled neckline. She wore a pretty pendant he had not seen before.
Her hand, when he took it, was icy cold. Muttering an apology, Innes squeezed it reassuringly. Was she thinking as he was, how like a wedding this whole thing was turning out to be? Was she thinking back to the other time, when she had stood beside another man, in another church? It shouldn’t bother him. He hadn’t thought about it before, and wished he had not now. It shouldn’t bother him, any more than the idea, which had only just occurred to him, that she would leave here soon. He might have committed to the place, but it had always been a temporary location for her. There would come a time when he’d be here alone. When things were clearer. They were very far from clear now. No need to think of that just yet.
Ainsley winced, and Innes immediately loosened his grip. ‘Ready?’ he asked. She nodded. She put her arm in
