Page 57 of Hunted By the Hard Highlander

She was not sure why anxiety had begun to weave itself into knots in her belly. It was not as if anything unexpected was planned. She knew exactly how the ceremony would be run, the words the priest would utter as he bound her hand to Hendry’s. Yet, even with all the preparations, it loomed larger with each moment that passed.

“Aye, I may have been,” Hilda admitted, though she did not look the least bit ashamed. “Ye already ken that this is the first weddin’ Clan Anderson has hosted in years. I am honored to be the woman chosen to prepare ye for the ceremony.”

“Me maid took her job just as seriously,” Alba said as she released Aurora’s sleeve. She stepped over toward one of the armchairs, settling herself at the edge of it and folding her hands politely in her lap. “I was so overwhelmed by the event, but I ken that because of her, I was able to enjoy the moment.”

“She is right,” Isobel agreed, still examining the careful embroidery on the bodice of Aurora’s gown. “Lookin’ the part, bein’ dressed as the Lady that ye are becomin’... it makes the ceremony much easier. Ye arenae worried about what people are seein’, ye are focused on the man in front of ye and the priest who is officiatin’.”

“If we are bein’ truthful,” Margaret said as she vacated the spot in front of the desk and waved Aurora forward, “I daenae think I heard a single word the priest said. A handfastin’ sounds so simple when ye describe how it will proceed, but once ye are standin’ there in front of everyone, it becomes so much more overwhelmin’.”

“I amnae sure if ye are tellin’ me this to settle me or to make me more nervous,” Aurora said with a breathless laugh. She lowered herself onto the bench keeping her back straight as Hilda’s hands found her hair.

“I am simply tellin’ ye so ye ken that ye arenae the only one who dinnae ken how to prepare for a handfastin’,” Margaret replied. She watched as Hilda meticulously worked the tangles out of Aurora’s fiery hair. “It is easier to get through somethin’ if ye ken what ye are walkin’ into ahead of time.”

“She isnae wrong,” Alba said softly. “If it werenae for her tellin’ me what to expect, I may have fainted in front of everyone.”

“I wasnae fortunate enough to have warnin’,” Isobel admitted softly. “Though I daenae think that warnin’ would have made things any easier for me. It was more than worth it, though. I have me family now, and I wouldnae change the way the day proceeded for anythin’.”

Somehow, Isobel’s words resonated the deepest. The woman was earnest, wearing a look in her eye that only spoke of the truth. She had been frightened, likely just as nervous as Aurora, yet she reflected on the day fondly.

“I daenae think any of us were given the kind of couplin’s that we think about when the word romance is uttered,” Alba told her. She shifted slightly in her seat, making herself more comfortable in preparation for the process of the final preparations. “But I think that is what makes Highland brides the most interestin’. We forge our own versions of romance, the kinds that mothers would avoid tellin’ their daughters when they asked.”

“Ye wouldnae avoid tellin’ yer daughters the story of how ye came to love their father,” Margaret laughed, the atmosphere of the room becoming lighter with the sound of it. “It is a good lesson in how ye can find someone ye care about, even in the most unexpected of places.” She looked over at Aurora then, her gaze softening. “And sometimes, even if ye marry out of duty, love still finds a way to grow. Ye just have to be open to lettin’ it in.”

Aurora could not speak, the force of Margaret’s words feeling like a blessing. She was not quite sure of what her feelings were for Hendry. She had been trying so hard to protect her heart, but there was something much deeper that formed in her chest, something warm and undeniable. It was weaving itself into her bones as Hilda carefully braided her hair.

“Ye are right,” Aurora finally whispered. “It… is frightenin’, though. Like jumpin’ into the deepest part of the loch where ye cannae see the bottom.”

“As long as ye ken how to swim, ye willnae be pulled under,” Margaret said, giving Aurora a knowing smile. “And if ye need a wee bit of help, ye just have to trust that Hendry will be there to pull ye out.”

“Aye,” Aurora whispered, blinking back the wetness that was threatening to gather in the corners of her eyes.

She remained silent as Hilda completed the braids in her hair. Her maid’s deft fingers worked fresh flowers through the plaits, the whites of the blooms standing out against the brilliant ginger locks. Then, when Hilda retrieved the jewels, Aurora sat very still, allowing herself to be adorned. With each additional layer added onto her and the steady chatter of the women that she hoped to one day call her friends, she felt more and more sure of her circumstances.

Margaret is right. I cannae keep shieldin’ me heart in this way. I must trust me feelin’s.

“Is there room for one more?” Mrs. Duncan asked, her question punctuated by two light knocks on the closed door. “I will only be in for a moment.”

“Aye,” Aurora called after a beat when she realized the other women were deflecting to her judgement. She was Lady Anderson. “Ye may enter.”

Mrs. Duncan opened the door slowly, peeking inside, likely to ensure she was not entering while Aurora was half-dressed. Her eyes lit up when she found Aurora sitting on the bench, a maternal smile settling onto her face. She stepped inside fully, closing the door to keep the growing sounds of excitement from below from filtering in.

“Lady Aurora,” she said, her voice soft with something like wonder. “Oh, ye look even bonnier than I thought ye would.”

“Doesnae she?” Hilda asked as she fastened the last heavy gold necklace. “The flowers that ye picked were a very nice touch.”

“Aye, they truly make ye look stunnin’,” Alba said, standing from her seat. She looked at Hilda and asked, “Are ye finished?”

“I am,” Hilda confirmed as she stepped back, allowing Alba to pull Aurora to her feet.

“Ye must look at yerself before we rejoin the festivities,” Alba said as she dragged Aurora to the mirror in the corner of the room. “It will make it that much easier when the handfastin’ finally arrives.”

Aurora could not process what Alba had said, nor what the other women were muttering around her. Her eyes were caught on the reflection staring back at her. She almost did not recognize herself.

Along with the braids adorned with petals were ribbons tied with perfect bows. The necklace around her neck had a green jewel hanging down against her chest. When she shifted, the bracelets on her arms clinked together.

No longer did Aurora see a frightened fugitive. Instead, standing before her, was a woman that was prepared to stand beside one of the strongest men she had ever known.

Chapter Twenty-Seven