Page 69 of Rose
Chapter Twenty Six
Rose stood in the middle of her chamber while Iris fitted a long, cream-colored lace veil over her unbound curls.
Elizabeth clasped her hands together as a dreamy smile spread over lips. “Rose, you look beautiful.”
Iris circled around Rose and smiled. “You are, indeed, lovely.”
Rose smoothed her hands down her new turquoise tunic. She had picked out the color knowing Tristan favored the watery blue on her. Silver beaded slippers peeked out beneath the hem of her butter yellow kirtle.
Rose fidgeted with her hands as she considered the fine garments. “Ye don’t think ‘tis all a bit much?”
“On the contrary, I wish you would wear one of my bejeweled headdresses, or an amulet to adorn the neckline.”
Rose shook her head. “I ken I may appear plain to yer eyes, but I’m not accustomed to such finery.”
A soft rapping on the door drew all their gazes. A moment later, Betsy appeared, her face flushed with excitement. “Darby has brought your horses to the courtyard. ’Tis time to head to the church.”
Rose gripped her fists to hide her shaking hands. Her stomach fluttered. Her heart raced. It was time to go to church. She was marrying Tristan Thatcher—for real this time.
“Rose, you’re suddenly so pale,” Iris exclaimed, wrapping her arm around Rose’s shoulders. “I didn’t mean to make you fret over your simple veil. Truly, you look lovely. You’ve naught to be nervous about.”
Except that I’m getting married!
Of course, Iris couldn’t know the real reason for Rose’s nerves. If she were a new bride, then Rose’s pale complexion or racing heart would not just be readily understood, it would be expected. But as far as Iris and Elizabeth knew, Rose and Tristan were already wed.
Rose took a deep breath. “Thank ye, Iris,” she said, pressing a kiss to her mother-in-law’s cheek. Then she reached for Elizabeth and pulled her into a tight embrace. “And thank ye, sweetling.”
Elizabeth squealed as she hugged Rose close. “Sisters! We are sisters.”
This time, the mention of sisterhood didn’t cause Rose to cringe with guilt. Instead her heart flooded with warmth. She smiled down at Elizabeth. “Aye, we are sisters.”
“Come along now,” Iris said, crossing the room to the open door. “Let us not keep the men waiting.”
With her new mother on her left and her new sister on her right, Rose stepped out into the courtyard and gasped. Three large white horses with stunning cream-colored manes knickered and stomped at the ground, impatient to be on their way. And standing by one was Davy.
Rose beamed at him. “Davy, whatever are ye doing here?”
Davy bowed low at the waist. When he stood straight, his smile stretched from ear to ear. “Captain’s orders. He said you’re not as comfortable on horseback as you are climbing the rigging.” He offered her his hand. “I’m here to take you to church.”
He led her over to one of the horses. Crouching down, he wove his fingers together. Rose gripped the saddle and placed her foot in Davy’s hand. He lifted her onto the horse, then swung up behind her, his arms encircling her waist.
“Do ye have to hold me so tight?” Rose asked.
“No,” Davy answered, but his hold around her waist didn’t loosen.
“Davy,” Rose said, a hint of scolding in her voice.
“These scrawny arms have dreamt of holding ye,” he confessed.
Rose laughed. “Ye ken I’m closer to yer mum’s age than yers.”
He shrugged. “I like to hold my mum tight, too.”
She threw her head back with laughter. “All right then, Davy, take me to church.”
He nudged the horse’s flanks. They trotted through the gate and down the road toward the heart of the city. Stone homes with slate roofs and large courtyards lined the roadside. But the closer they drew to the wharf the smaller and more numerous the buildings became, many made from wood with thatch roofs. The roads narrowed and twisted in a maze, teeming with wagons, horses, vendors, children racing, and page boys delivering messages. The din and crowds made Rose long for her island home.
She was relieved when Davy reined in their horse in front of a lovely stone kirk. He hopped down and beamed up at her as he helped her to her feet.
