Page 56 of A Virgin for the Vicious Highlander
“Actually, Cecilia,” Tara said, still chuckling, “I’m startin’ to think that maybe ye’rejustthe right bride for Laird Moore. Why, ye might even change him for the better. If anyone can, it is ye—I’d bet everythin’ I own on it.”
Cecilia was grateful for the compliment and offered Tara a smile, even though she knew that changing Murdoch was impossible. She did not have the patience that Lennox had told her she needed, nor did she think she had the right to try and change someone.
In truth, Mairie had set an unexpected example to Cecilia during her time at the convent, for no matter how irate she had become at her niece’s antics, Mairie had never tried to change her.
At least I’ll be allowed to wander beyond the castle walls whenever I like. That’s somethin’. At least I’ll be able to visit me friend—that’s somethin’, too. And I’ll be able to see Aunt Mairie when I please. That’s nae nothin’.
She would have to proceed with her new life step by step, but anything was better than returning to the convent. She just needed to remember that.
“I dinnae have any other option anyway but to make it work,” Cecilia said, drawing in a breath. “Come on, we should go back to me chambers before everyone thinks I have scaled the walls and made a run for it.”
Whether it was what she wanted or not, there was no getting out of it now.
Maybe I willnae be able to change him, but perhaps I’ll be able to change his mind.
She smiled at the thought, for if she could persuade a convent full of nuns to pretend that it was a different day to play a harmless, little trick on her aunt, then how hard could it be to persuade Murdoch to touch her again?
CHAPTER 24
“I do believeye’re twice as pale as usual,” Camden noted, elbowing Murdoch in the ribs. “And is that a sheen of perspiration I see, peeking just above that mask of yers?”
If it was not his wedding day and there were not so many guests gathered in the castle chapel, Murdoch would have been more inclined to punch Camden in his jesting mouth. Anything to shut him up, for Camden’s comments were only making him more restless.
“Remind me who invited ye again?” Murdoch muttered, glancing back at the chapel doors. They remained closed, with no sign of his bride.
Camden chuckled. “Yer lovely maither. Well, she invited Paisley, seein’ as she’s such a dear friend of yer bride, but I couldnae resist comin’ along to see this miracle for meself. Och, and now that I mention it, I believe Ididsee a couple of pigs flyin’ over the fields on our way here.”
“Ye’re an idiot,” Murdoch snarled.
“That I may be, but a delighted one.” Camden flashed him a grin. “I wouldnae have missed this for anythin’. I mean, just look at ye—ye’re the very picture of an overjoyed man on his weddin’ day. Ye ought to be careful, smilin’ like that, or yer face might be stuck.”
Murdoch glared at him. “Ye should take yer seat now.”
“Och, nay. It’s only right that ye should have a laird standin’ at yer side as yer groomsman,” Camden insisted. “I’m quite content right here.”
He might have continued to antagonize Murdoch, relishing every moment of the admittedly unexpected occasion, had Paisley not caught his eye at that moment.
Murdoch noticed the look at the same time and had to resist the urge to smirk—Paisley did not seem best pleased by her husband’s antics. She frowned at him, shaking her head subtly, her eyes narrowed with exasperation.
“On second thoughts,” Camden said, clapping Murdoch on the shoulder, “I’d best tend to me wife. Just remember to repeat yer vows as ye hear them, and ye’ll be in happy, holy matrimony with the rest of us in nay time at all.”
He winked at Murdoch and went to join his wife, pulling her into a playful embrace as he took his seat. She whispered somethingin his ear—a reprimand, no doubt—but a moment later, she was laughing and smacking him lightly on the arm, her exasperation immediately forgotten.
Is that what it’s supposed to look like?
Murdoch observed them discreetly out of the corner of his eye, feeling that strange sensation in his chest again. But it was milder than jealousy. Something like envy, or perhaps remorse that he could not give Cecilia the same loving marriage. Why, he had never even made her laugh, nor did he know how to.
Just then, the chapel doors opened, and the guests hurried to rise to their feet, all turning to look upon the bride.
A collective gasp rose up, the sound like a stormy wind rustling the woodland trees. Murdoch did not gasp, swallowing the impulse, but his entire body reacted to the sight of her—his bride.
His heart thudded harder, his back stiffened, his shoulders pulled back, his throat tightened, and his mouth went dry. His eyes widened behind his mask, while his stomach felt like he had swallowed a rock for breakfast.
She was the most beautiful creature he had ever beheld, attired in a remarkable gown of cream velvet that shimmered like liquid with her every slow step. The neckline and tight sleeves were trimmed with golden lace, while that belt of gilded ivy cinched her waist. Her long hair was loose, partially held back from her face with two slides that resembled small wings. Her skin wasso radiant that she looked ethereal, and her blue eyes were so bright and clear that he wondered if he would be able to see their future in them.
And she is mine…
It was absurd. A beast did not deserve a beauty like her.
