Page 112 of A Bride for the Icy Highlander
Freya braided Abigail’s hair down her back, the strands thick and glossy.
Marissa laid a tartan sash on the bed which will be pinned to the dress later.
“It is ready,” she said. “Are ye?”
“Aye, I am,” Abigail replied.
Abigail felt the sisterly love wash over her as they helped her into her wedding gown. She had dreamed of a moment like this, but she didn’t think it would ever become reality.
She glanced at herself in the mirror, her breath catching at the sight. She hardly recognized the woman staring back at her—elegant, radiant, and trembling with joy and nerves.
“He’ll faint when he sees ye,” Freya teased, wiping a tear of joy from her cheek.
Abigail smiled softly, her fingers grazing the pearls at the neckline.
Freya smoothed the skirts of her gown, then stepped back to admire her.
Abigail tried to quell the fluttering in her chest, but it was no use. Her hands trembled slightly as she reached for Freya. “I am glad to have ye here with me. To finally have yer blessing.”
“Once I saw the way he leapt from his horse to get to ye,” Marissa said softly, a wistful smile on her lips, “I kenned he’d do anything for ye, Abby. His wound was bleeding, and he didnae care for it, only for yer safety. That kind of love is rare. That was enough for me to give ye me blessing.”
Abigail looked down, blinking back sudden tears. “He’s the best man I’ve ever known,” she whispered. “Stronger than he lets on, kind when he doesnae have to be. I didnae ken what love truly was until he showed me.”
Freya squeezed her hands, her grin wide and proud. “I’ve seen how he looks at ye, like ye’re the sun risin’ just for him. Ye love him just as fiercely, and together, ye’ll lead a strong and prosperous clan. The whole Highlands will feel it.”
Abigail stood up and pulled her sisters close, wrapping her arms around them as tears slid down her cheeks.
“Havin’ the two of ye by me side… yer blessing means everything to me. I couldnae have walked into this new life without it.” She sniffled and laughed all at once. “I love ye both more than words could say.”
Just then, the door burst open, and Ayla rushed in, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright. In her hands was a small bouquet of heather, wild roses, and sprigs of fern.
“Here,” she said breathlessly, grinning. “I picked these fresh. Thought they’d look lovely in yer hair.”
Abigail turned around, surprise softening into a smile as she took in the girl’s excitement. “They’re beautiful, Ayla. Thank ye, truly.”
She sat back down so that Ayla could begin weaving the blooms into her braid.
Ayla hummed as she worked, her brow furrowed in concentration, then softened with a wistful look.
“I hope I find love like yers one day,” she said quietly. “Fierce and loyal. The way Kian looks at ye… I’d be blessed to have that for meself.”
Abigail’s heart swelled with emotion as she reached up and took Ayla’s hand in her own.
“Ye will, lass,” she said warmly. “There’s nay rush. Love comes when it’s meant to, and when it does, it’ll knock the breath out of ye.” She squeezed her hand. “I have nay doubt ye’ll find someone who sees the light in ye just as I do.”
Ayla beamed, blinking away tears before they could fall. She gave a small, shy nod and stepped back, admiring her handiwork with a pleased sigh.
“There,” she said. “Ye look like a lass out of a fairytale, one of those who walk with starlight in their hair.”
Before Abigail could reply, the door opened again, this time more slowly, and Helena entered.
“It’s time,” she said with a kind smile. “Kian’s waitin’ at the chapel. The whole clan’s gathered.”
Abigail felt her breath catch, her heart fluttering like a bird in a cage. She looked at her sisters, then at Ayla, and back to the mirror, where the woman staring back at her no longer looked uncertain or afraid. She looked like a bride ready to meet her future.
With a nod and a deep breath, she whispered, “Let’s go.”
She stepped out of the chamber, her arm linked with Freya’s. The cool stone floor of the corridor met her slippers as they walked slowly toward the stairs. Her gown rustled softly with every step.
