Page 89 of The Highlander's Virgin Widow
“Keira, I ken how hard this must be. Again, I apologize for Arthur’s behavior.”
“What’s done is done. We shall get married tomorrow. It is fine. Just dinnae be surprised if the tapestries return.”
He slowly rose to his feet, despair written all over his face. Slowly, he turned around and made his way back to his quarters. She wouldn’t open the door today, no matter how much he tried. The least he could do for now was give her the space she needed.
As he walked, thoughts of marriage slipped into his mind like a knife slicing a block of butter.
How in the name of God did he even get here? What happened in the past few days to push him into such a position? One minute Keira was avoiding him like the plague—she wouldn’t even be in the same room as him and wouldn’t even as much as see him—and now she was getting married to him the next day under the most inconvenient circumstances.
This was unfair to both of them, but it was especially unfair to her. He blamed himself for putting her in this situation in the first place. If he hadn’t organized the cèilidh, her honor would never have been at stake in the first place.
“Damn ye, Arthur,” he whispered as he got to his door and pushed it open. Though he knew it wasn’t his friend’s fault that he couldn’t let Keira go “Damn me to hell.”
30
The morning of the wedding, Keira could feel the ache behind her eyes. She hadn’t had a wink of sleep since the whole thing happened, and she was certain sleep was not going to come anytime soon.
Lesley entered first, sympathy flickering in her eyes.
“Hudson told me what happened,” she started, pity lacing her voice. “I cannae tell ye how sorry I am that this is all happening.”
Keira looked over her friend’s shoulder, waiting for her man-at-arms to walk in. She furrowed her brow in confusion when he didn’t, and she glanced at Lesley. “Where is he?”
“Who?”
“Hudson. I thought he was coming with ye.”
“Aye. He went to fetch a few things from the market for me. Dinnae worry about him. I kenned ye wouldnae be able to sleep, so I told him to get me some things I need to prepare for ye. At least to get ye through today.”
Keira rose from her bed and walked into the bathing chamber. One of the first things she had always looked forward to every single day was her morning routine. This time around—and she guessed this was how it would be for the rest of the day—she couldn’t care less.
Even now, as the water submerged her entire body, she could not be bothered to scrub her skin. There was nothing about the day that was worth looking forward to. She might as well be preparing for a sentence or even her execution at this point.
When she stepped out of the bath, the people in the room had doubled.
Shona stood by the door, her eyes steady on her as she walked across the room, water trailing behind her feet.
“Are ye all right?” she asked, her voice full of concern.
“As all right as I can be,” Keira responded.
For the first time since Lesley had walked in, she noticed the bouquet of flowers that stood by the door. Her eyes flicked to Lesley.
“Nay wedding without flowers. Nae even this one.” Lesley’s voice was sharp and direct.
“Is this yer wedding dress?” Shona asked, swallowing as she gestured toward an intricately designed lace gown that hung from the door of the wardrobe.
Keira’s eyes flicked to it, and she nodded slowly. She had brought it out the previous night. It was the same dress she wore at her previous wedding.
A bitter laugh escaped her lips at the irony. Two weddings out of duty. The same dress for both.
“I can help ye dress if ye want.” Shona’s tone was gentle.
But before Keira could respond, a knock sounded at the door.
“Hudson?” she asked, glancing at the door and then at Lesley.
“It cannae be him. He cannae be back yet.”
