Page 65 of A Two-Faced Laird
“No. Lie with me for a while.”
Aidan climbed onto his bed, held out his arms, and Edina nestled herself into them. They lay in silence for a while.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked at last.
“About the first time I kissed you,” he replied, laughing softly. “When I asked you to marry me. You were the first woman I ever loved, and you will be the last.”
“I am so glad to hear it,” Edina whispered. “I could not bear the thought of sharing you with anyone else, Aidan. I love you and I know your father would be proud of you.”
He smiled sadly and nuzzled her neck.
The funeral had beensmall and intimate, because Aidan had not been able to arrive in time, but now a memorial service had been arranged so that the whole Findlay family was able to pay its respects to a man they had all loved and respected.
The castle chapel was not big enough to hold all the staff of the castle, villagers and family who wanted to attend, yet Lady Findlay and Aidan were glad of this, since it showed how well-regarded the Laird had been. In the end, they held the ceremony in the village church, which was not much bigger. It was, indeed, so crowded that there was a small queue outside.
Aidan had been expected to make a speech, so he and Edina had laboured over it for hours, helped by some input from Edina’s mother and father, and Lady Eleanor. It was not a very long speech and did not express everything Aidan wanted to say, but he felt it had delivered how he felt without going into too much detail.
When he stood in front of the packed congregation, Aidan felt terrified, but he reminded himself that as the Laird, everyone now looked up to and depended on him. He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders and swallowed down more tears. He would not turn into a child in front of everyone. He began to speak.
“First of all,” he said, with what he hoped was an authoritative ring in his voice, “my name is not Lewis Findlay, but Aidan Findlay. My beloved brother died almost three years ago. However, my family had personal reasons for keeping it from you, but now I can tell you the truth.”
There was a collective gasp of shock from around the church, but Aidan was not to be deterred.
He went on, “I know how shocked many of you will be at this news, but rest assured it was not an easy decision for us.”
Later, Aidan would find out that many people had already suspected the truth.
“Words cannot begin to express my love for my father,” he began. “He was the best father a boy ever had, and the best man I ever knew. He taught my brother and me all there was to know about being a man, and when my wife”—he indicated Edina—“lived with us while we were children, he showed us how to treat the fairer sex. He was supportive of everything we did, and when we lost our playmate, he comforted my brother and me so that we did not feel her loss quite so keenly. He guided us through the journey into manhood and disciplined us when weneeded it, which was quite often, since teenage boys are not the most obedient of people.”
There was a ripple of laughter as he said this, and he smiled.
“My mother will tell you that he was a wonderful, considerate husband too, but like any family, even a loving one, we have had our squabbles. No doubt we will continue to do so, but we will still love each other.
I hope you will agree with me that my father was a wonderful Laird, but like any human being, he made mistakes, as we all do. Still, I hope you all remember him with as much fondness and love as I do. I know that I will have to try hard to be as good a Laird as he was, but I will do my best. Now, please, let us say a prayer in his honour.”
Reverend McPhee, the minister, offered up a short prayer, and they all filed out of the church, but their ordeal was not quite over.
Outside they all had to endure both congratulations and commiserations on Aidan and Edina’s marriage and the death of the Laird, but afterwards they went to visit the tiny graveyard where Lewis and his father lay.
Lady Findlay was disconsolate as she stood by her husband’s grave, looking at the headstone and thinking of the husband she had loved so much. As if reading her mind, Aidan put his arms around her, and they stood in reverent silence for a while.
“You were a good man, Davie,” Lady Findlay said. “But your journey has ended. Aidan and Edina’s has just begun, and we must all move on. Goodbye, my darling.”
She bent down and kissed his headstone, then laid a bunch of wildflowers on it, before doing the same to her son’s.
“Goodbye, my dear Lewis,” she whispered as she placed more flowers on the grave.
Aidan took Edina’s hand and squeezed it. He felt his spirits lift; he had said farewell. The future belonged to Edina and him.
EPILOGUE
Despite the loss of Laird Findlay, Edina was enjoying her life immensely. Granted, she had been fond of him, but he was not her father. Aidan and his mother were slowly but surely beginning to come to terms with their loss as well, and as spring emerged, their sorrow, while not entirely gone, was slowly receding.
Edina had no idea what Lady Findlay endured while she was alone, of course, but it seemed that she was beginning to see some light at the end of her tunnel of grief.
When Edina thought back six months, she could see how much her life had changed and grown richer in the process. The main reason was Aidan, of course; sometimes Edina could not believe he was hers. He was everything she had ever wanted in a man; loving, kind and thoughtful, with a wonderful sense of humour. As well as that, he was extremely intelligent, and last but not least, he was almost too handsome for words and could take her to heaven every time they made love.
Now that she was the Laird’s wife, Edina was in charge of many more of the household matters than she had been before she left, having taken over many of the responsibilities fromAidan’s mother. To avoid confusion, they had decided to use the name Lady Edina for her, while Eleanor went by her usual title of Lady Findlay.
