Page 69 of Devotion: Isn't What It Seems (Love Isn't What It Seems 1)

I couldn’t wait for my honeymoon to start.

Elise with Brandon and Ainslee with Callen and Bram went ahead of us back to the castle and reception. They wanted to make sure all was perfect by the time Lachlan and I got there.

Lachlan and I smiled at numerous faces I didn’t know when I noted Mr. McBride with a woman, presumably his wife. He was waiting his turn to come and see us and I happily waved to him. He waved back and smiled, slowly approaching us.

“Hello, lass,” he greeted me finally in front of us. “Congratulations on your marriage.”

I couldn’t help but smile warmly. “Thank you, Mr. McBride. Is this your wife?”

He nodded. She smiled at me and said something in Gaelic to Mr. McBride. I looked curiously between the two.

“She says you are beautiful,” Mr. McBride translated. “And she loves your books. She’s in the book club with Margaret.”

“Oh,” I answered, not expecting that. “Thank you, on both counts. I didn’t realize they are translated into Gaelic.”

“Oh, she loves them,” he chuckled with a twinkle in his eyes. “And I love them too when she is reading them. I usually get lucky that night.”

I burst into laughter. Well, that was definitely too much information. I glanced back at his wife and noted Lachlan translated what was said. She immediately smacked her husband on the arm playfully, a slight blush coloring her cheeks.

“I’m going to have to learn at least some Gaelic so I can talk to the ladies in that club.”

She nodded upon her husband’s translation.

“Are you coming to the reception?” Lachlan asked Mr. McBride, his hand stroking the skin on my neck, completely turning me on.

“Yes, we are,” Mr. McBride responded. He turned to me. “Are you happy with your rings, Mrs. McLaren?”

I had to stop myself from looking behind me. It was the first time I was called Mrs. McLaren and I loved the sound of it.

“I love them,” I glanced at Lachlan's right hand with the wedding ring I put on there. I found out during our ring exchange, wedding rings were worn on the right hand in Scotland.

“I love hearing you referred to as Mrs. McLaren,” Lachlan announced happily and I smiled at him.

“I’ll have to get used to it,” I told him. “I almost looked behind me to see who Mr. McBride was talking to.”

We all chuckled and Mr. McBride translated to his wife who joined in the chuckle. Then she asked a question in Gaelic looking at me.

I glanced over at Mr. McBride and asked with a smile. “Was that a question for me?”

“She asked if you’ll update your writer’s name?” he translated.

I stiffened at that question. I haven’t thought about any of that stuff. It would require some major rebranding, and I wasn’t even sure I’d ever write again. I wasn’t prepared to answer a question like that. Frowning, I thought back to all the arguments with my late husband because I kept my maiden name.

I glanced over to Lachlan and noted his eyes were studying me. I wished I knew what he was thinking.

There shouldn’t be such difficult questions on my wedding day!

“Honestly, I haven’t written anything in so long,” I replied carefully. “Not sure that it makes sense to go back and change the name.”

“You are going to keep your late husband’s name?” Mr. McBride asked, slightly shocked.

“Bailey is my maiden name,” I muttered, with my back stiff. “I never took my late husband’s name.”

“Oh,” he answered and a smile spread across his face. He turned over to translate for his wife and I looked back at Lachlan prepared to see a scorn but all I found was his comforting smile.

Lachlan and I were slowly walking back to the castle for the reception, Mr. McBride and his wife way ahead.

We walked in silence, hand in hand. The summer breeze was comfortable and had the distinct smell of green Highlands. It seemed surreal, this place, him, everyone. I met him only two weeks ago and now we were married. Despite the appearance we rushed this through, it felt right being with him.

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