Page 84 of Edinburgh Escape
Epilogue
Standing in front of the full-length mirror, Maggie adjusted the tartan sash of the Drummond clan. She’d draped it over her strapless white wedding dress with its fitted sweetheart bodice and slim skirt. A strand of curls had escaped the pin holding it in place in the elaborate updo the hairstylist had created. She turned around and looked over her shoulder at the medium-length soft train that would trail gracefully down the aisle as she walked the length of the church aisle to meet her fate with the amazing man she would marry that day. The dress was perfect.
Sadie sighed. “You’re absolutely stunning.”
Maggie smiled. “Coming from the beautiful, famous actress Sadie McClain, that’s a huge compliment.” She frowned as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. “It’s just that my hair...”
Sadie studied her with her head tilted slightly. “It’s lovely, but...”
“Not me,” Maggie finished,
“You should wear it down,” Fiona said as she walked into the anteroom, carrying the bouquet of flowers Maggie would carry down the aisle. “You have such lovely curls. I’m sure Callum fell in love with you when you had your hair down around your shoulders. It reflects you as the warm, generous?—”
“Wildly free and loving person you are,” Sadie finished. “Fiona is right. Wear it down.”
“But the stylist spent so long getting it all pinned in place.”
“And it will take no time at all to pull all the pins out,” Fiona said. “Sit.”
Maggie grinned. “Yes, ma’am.” She sank onto the chair in front of the makeup mirror.
Sadie and Fiona went to work pulling the dozen or more pins from her hair. Then Sadie fluffed her curls, tucked a few locks back on each side of her face and pinned them in place.
“Perfect,” Fiona said. “You look like a wild Highland lass.”
Maggie stood and smoothed her hands over her belly. “I’m just glad the dress fits. If I’d waited any longer, I’d be getting married wearing the wedding tent, not the dress.”
“Oh, don’t be silly,” Sadie said. “You’re hardly showing at four months. But then this is your first baby. When I was pregnant with my second, I looked five months pregnant when I was only three months along.”
Mrs. Jones, wearing a pretty green mother-of-the-bride dress, poked her head through the door. “I checked with the preacher. Everything is ready.”
“That means it’s showtime,” Sadie said with a grin.
Mrs. Jones held out her arm. “Then let’s show them how it’s done.”
Maggie hooked her hand through the older woman’s arm. “Thank you for agreeing to walk me down the aisle. My mother would’ve been happy it was you.”
“It’s my pleasure entirely.” Mrs. Jones sniffed and wiped a tear that had slipped from the corner of her eye. “I wish I’d been able to help your mother more. She was such a beautiful young lady with a big heart. Though you didn’t take after her in looks, your personalities are so very much alike. She’d be proud of what you and Lady Fiona have accomplished with the children in the village.”
“I didn’t need all the money I inherited as much as the village needed a preschool for the children,” Maggie said. “And I’m doing what I love best.”
“Working with children.” Fiona nodded. “Even Bryce has been a big help, working with the little ones. He likes pretending he’s a big brother.”
“When are you going to marry Peter Atkins and give that boy a sibling?” Mrs. Jones asked as they walked out of the room.
Maggie glanced over her shoulder at Fiona.
The woman’s face had flushed a pretty pink. Maggie had suspected Peter Atkins was hanging around more for Fiona than to help Ewan and Callum remodel what had once been the basement torture room into a war room for the UK satellite office of the Brotherhood Protectors International. Maggie thought it fitting to convert it from a place where bad things had happened into one where they could work to help others.
Fiona had blossomed under Peter’s attention. After her marriage to the horrible Lord Drummond, she’d been hesitant to get involved with another man. Peter proved to be a patient and had given her the space and time to come around. Now, they were often sighted walking through the gardens holding hands or holding Bryce’s hands as he swung between them.
“I’m glad Ewan agreed to work with the Brotherhood,” Fiona said. “He’s much happier with a bigger purpose in life other than managing the estate. All that training with the SAS shouldn’t go to waste.”
“And it won’t. He’s already been on one mission and Ace has him lined up for another that kicks off soon,” Maggie said. “He’s in his element, just like Callum.”
“Speaking of Callum,” Mrs. Jones smiled. “He’s waiting for you at the end of the aisle.” She stepped out of the anteroom with Maggie on her arm.
Sadie and Fiona hurried ahead of her to take their seats.
As Maggie entered the sanctuary, everyone seated in the pews stood.
She didn’t see anyone but the man standing beside the preacher at the end of the aisle.
As promised, he wore a kilt in the McCall colors, with the pleated fabric draped around his legs. The white shirt he wore with the kilt had full sleeves and made him look like a swashbuckling pirate. The ornate leather pouch, or sporran, added function and flair to the look. He’d even grown his hair out a little. With his neatly trimmed beard and mustache, he had a rakish air that made Maggie’s heart flutter with excitement.
He'd come a long way from having nightmares every night to only restless sleep on occasion. When he slept with Maggie, he was more at peace than at any other time.
Over the past few months, Maggie had fallen deeper in love with this Scotsman who’d saved her twice. With love in her heart and their baby in her womb, she held her head high, wearing a smile she couldn’t tame and marched to her future with her kilt-wearing protector, glad he hadn’t opted for the pink polka-dotted tutu.
