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Authors: Elizabeth Thornton

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BOOK: A Bewitching Bride
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Mr. Cameron, who ought to know, since he had practiced law in both England and Scotland in his time, affirmed that it was, as long as the couple lived together as man and wife. Since this was a civil marriage, there would be no church setting and no minister officiating. The couple could choose anyone they wanted to perform the ceremony, or they could say the words themselves.
“As is the old custom in Scottish marriages,” Mr. Cameron elaborated, as though that validated what was about to take place.
Everybody seemed satisfied by Mr. Cameron’s explanation except, perhaps, the bride and groom. The tears swimming in Kate’s eyes, as Gavin was well aware, were not tears of joy as the assembled guests seemed to think. They were tears of frustration. Having convinced her parents that this was a love match, she couldn’t come up with a credible excuse to put the wedding off.
He sympathized with her parents. Everybody knew that he and Kate had spent the night at his cottage on the moors, so it was imperative that they appear in public as a married couple. And their first public appearance would be at Will’s funeral on Friday.
“Smile, Kate,” he said.
“I feel like such a cheat,” she hissed under her breath. “Well, just look at them. They’re all silly with happiness.”
She was right about her mother. Not that Mrs. Cameron was enthused about this civil ceremony, but her husband had promised that there would be another ceremony in Braemar, a church ceremony with a lavish reception to follow in the local hotel.
“Magda doesn’t look silly with happiness,” he commented.
“Is she glaring at me?”
“No. She looks bored.”
“Then she’s as happy as Magda ever gets.”
When he stifled a laugh, she smiled.
“Your father doesn’t look happy, either,” he said in an undertone. “I don’t think he trusts me.”
“Of course he doesn’t trust you. He knows that this is a trumped-up affair, that, in fact, it’s not precisely legal, and he’s wondering if you know it, too.” Her brows drew together. “How did you know that the bride or groom had to be domiciled in the parish for three weeks before their marriage could go forward?”
“Will told me. This is how he married Maddie. They thought it would be more romantic than to have a priest or minister say the words over them, not that they could find a priest or minister to marry them. She was Catholic, and Will wasn’t.”
“I see,” she said and sighed.
“Yes,” said Gavin. “The old enmity between Catholics and Protestants is as fierce as ever in the Highlands.”
He’d promised that before that proper wedding service in Braemar could take place, whether they had caught Will’s murderer or not, he would break the news to her family that they had inadvertently broken the law, and their marriage was null and void.
Had she even considered the uproar that would ensue? The disgrace? Her father might call him out. Did she care?
His thoughts were diverted when the door opened to admit Mrs. Cardno and Dalziel. The former was all smiles; the latter looked deeply disgruntled. It was then that Gavin remembered that Dalziel had a sweet spot for Kate. To ask him to officiate at the service was adding insult to injury. But who else could lead them through the labyrinth of promises and vows? Kate didn’t know what to say, and neither did he.
“What is Mrs. Cardno doing here?” Kate asked, barely mouthing the words. “She’s a dreadful gossip. By this time tomorrow, half the townspeople will know about our wedding.”
“That’s the point. Besides that, Juliet’s mother will lend credibility to the proceedings.”
He went to greet Dalziel and in short order had introduced him to the others. In an aside, Gavin said, “Thank you for agreeing to help us out. I thought of you at once, of course, because you were raised in the manse.”
Dalziel did not waste time on pleasantries. “You do realize that neither you nor Miss Cameron meet the residency requirements?”
“That won’t matter,” Gavin replied, trying to sound confident. “The church wedding will take place in Braemar. Kate’s father decided to move things up a little to save her embarrassment, you know, at Will’s funeral.”
A moment went by, then Dalziel sighed. “I hope you know what you’re doing. My father would never sanction this. Nor would the Church.”
Gavin’s response was cut off by Mr. Cameron’s impatient interjection that it was time to get the thing done now that everyone was present.
When he and Kate joined hands and took their places in front of Dalziel, Gavin took a moment to study his bride. Her simple gown of cream-colored taffeta added a luminous glow to her skin. Her dark hair was pinned up and showed to perfection her delicate earlobes with diamond pendant earrings and the slope of her throat. Her eyes . . . he could never do justice to how they affected him. He’d seen them flash with temper; he’d seen them shimmer with a private sorrow she could not bring herself to share. But the look that could make him forget to breathe was the look of appeal she sometimes directed at him, a look that said, he was sure, far more than she wanted him to hear.
He bent his head to hers. “What’s borrowed?” he whispered.
“What?”
“The bride is supposed to wear something borrowed on her wedding day.”
“Everything,” she said smartly. “Everything is borrowed, including my wedding ring.”
Dalziel was still leafing through what appeared to be a book of Church discipline and order, so Gavin went on softly, “When we’re married, I’ll see to it that your wardrobe is stocked with garments. You’ll never have to borrow anything again.”
Her eyes jerked up to meet his. “Don’t get carried away, Hepburn. I warned you about drama, didn’t I? It’s infectious.”
“Can we get on with it?” Mr. Cameron’s steely voice commanded.
Dalziel found his place in the book. “Dearly beloved,” he began, and the room fell silent.
Gavin glanced at Kate’s small hand that rested on his own. Her fingers were trembling, and he wondered what she was thinking.
 
 
Kate’s mind was too numb to think much of anything except that she wondered what defect in her brain or character had brought her to this pass. As the evening progressed, however, and the sherry (for the ladies) and the whiskey (for the gentlemen) flowed freely, she began to mellow.
She listened to the ebb and flow of conversation around her, watched the smiles and nods of well-wishers, and thought that something was missing.
“Penny for your thoughts,” said her father. He brushed back his coattails and sat down beside her.
She blinked up at him. Everyone should have a father like hers, she thought. He had never been particularly demonstrative, not even when she and Magda were children. If her mother was the eternal optimist, her father was the eternal realist. There was no trouble he could not fix. When she was little, she’d thought that he
was
the Bank of England. Everyone knew that that was one bank that would never fail.
Things were different now. She was a big girl, and no one could solve her problems except herself.
“I repeat,” he said, his gray eyes disturbingly assessing, “a penny for your thoughts.”
She forced a smile. “I never thought I would hear myself say this, but I miss the brawl that usually concludes any celebration where Camerons and Frasers get together. This seems so . . . tame.”
Her father laughed. “Brawls,” he said, “are for young men. You wouldn’t want to see Hamish and Rory pick a fight with your new husband, would you?”
Her eyes wandered over the guests and came to rest on Gavin. As usual, he looked as though he’d just stepped out of the pages of the
Gentleman’s Companion
. “It might do him a bit of good,” she said darkly.
Her father’s hands closed around hers. “Listen to me, Kate,” he said. “Mr. Hepburn and I had a long talk in private before you joined us this afternoon.” He waited until he had her full attention. “I want to know only one thing—is my daughter happy with her choice?”
She gazed into her father’s shrewd eyes and gave an involuntary nod. She must have let her smile slip before he’d come to quiz her on the state of her soul.
“He’s everything I could hope for in a husband,” she said.
Her father smiled. “That’s all I wanted to hear.”
“Father?” she said when he made to rise.
“What is it?”
She rushed on before she could change her mind. “Was Mama the first woman you ever loved?”
His eyes crinkled at the corners. “It would be more accurate to say that your mother was the only woman who ever loved
me.
What she saw in me, I have no idea. I was a crusty old bachelor immersed in my law practice. I was bewitched. Three months after I met her, we were married. People said it wouldn’t last, because we were so different.” He chuckled.
Kate had heard this story before, but the warm glow she usually experienced on hearing it was absent this time. Her pseudo-marriage seemed a travesty of her parents’ marriage.
When Dr. Rankin’s killer was caught and all came to light, her parents would understand, she promised herself.
Her father’s shrewd eyes missed nothing. “What is behind your question, Kate?”
“Nothing, nothing at all.”
“Hmm!” His eyes searched her expression, which she tried to keep unrevealing. “When I met your mother,” he said, “all other women ceased to exist for me.” He lowered his voice. “It will be the same for you. I see how he watches you, you see.”
How she could keep her tongue still was a mystery. It wasn’t the same for her. In the first place, this was not real. It was playacting, though there was a serious purpose behind it. In the second place, Gavin could never claim that all women had ceased to exist for him after he met her. Janet Mayberry was proof of that. Then there was Alice. She lived on in his heart, if rumor was to be believed.
It was obviously a tradition for parents of the bride to impart a few morsels of wisdom to prepare their daughters for married life, because when Kate was getting ready for bed, her mother bustled in and dismissed the maid so that she could have a “wee” word with her daughter.
She waited until Kate was in bed with her knees drawn up to her chin before she began. Stumbling over her words a little, she said, “Events moved so quickly that we did not have that heart-to-heart talk a mother and daughter usually have before the wedding. Every mother wants to prepare her daughter for marriage. It’s a duty that must not be neglected—”
“Mama,” said Kate, cutting off her mother’s spate of words, “I’m not an ingenue. I’ve worked at the clinic. I’ve seen and heard things I could never mention to my sister, let alone in polite society. I’m not unfamiliar with masculine anatomy. Without boasting, I can say that I know more about the birds and bees than I want to know.” She squeezed her mother’s hand. “You don’t have to put yourself through this, Mama. I’m not nervous or afraid. I know what to expect.”
“You’re not nervous?”
“No,” Kate answered truthfully. Nothing was going to happen, because this wasn’t real. She couldn’t tell her mother that, so she added, “As I said, I learned all I need to know at the clinic.”
Her mother laughed. “If you know so much, perhaps we should change places. Maybe you could tell me a thing or two about the birds and the bees.” She shook her head. “There’s more to marriage, though, than what a couple do in bed. Of course, I know that your work with Dr. Rankin gave you an education that few young women receive. Your father and I are very proud of you, oh, not only for your work, but because you care about people. We’ve raised a fine daughter.”
Kate felt horribly, horribly guilty. If she cared about people, she wouldn’t have embarked on this harebrained marriage. If she were a fine daughter, she wouldn’t be planning to bring disgrace on her family.
All would be forgiven, she reminded herself, when the truth came out.
Her mother took a breath as she searched for the right words. “My only misgiving—no, no, that is too strong a word—but it troubles me sometimes that you keep everything locked tightly inside you. Your sister, of course”—she let out a resigned sigh—“is the opposite. What I’m trying to say, Kate, is . . .” She got off the bed and looked at Kate with a smile in her eyes. “I want you to be happy, dear, that’s all.”
Kate felt as though all her past sins had come home to roost and were draped around her shoulders. She did keep things tightly locked inside her. The only person she’d ever allowed into her secret world was Dr. Rankin. She was what she was and couldn’t change now.
She had to say something. Her mother was waiting with an expectant look about her eyes.
“I am happy,” she said so softly it was almost a whisper.
“Then tell him about the past.”
“I will. I intend to.”
“You won’t regret it. Husbands and wives should share each other’s burdens. That’s my philosophy, for what it’s worth.”
Kate waited until she heard the door click before she got up and went to lock it, as instructed by Gavin. Not that he was expecting trouble. The hotel was small, with only a sprinkling of guests. But Gavin was careful. He knew where everyone was domiciled and had arranged with the manager that if any traveler came seeking a bed for the night, he would be the first to know it.
BOOK: A Bewitching Bride
4.49Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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