by Alisa Adams
Maisie gave a great whoop and clapped her hands.
"I would love it!" she cried, "but my dress -"
"Is all taken care of, my love!" Findlay kissed her again, tenderly, "now let's go home."
When they arrived at the castle Rosina and Hugh were waiting for them. Logan had gone back to his own estate to begin working again. In the winter there was always plenty of slaughtering, butchering and preparing of meat to be done, as well as maintenance and repair of all the farm implements.
"So," Rosina asked excitedly, "are we looking at the future Mr and Mrs Baxter?"
"Yes, Mistress," Maisie said joyfully.
"NOW you will call me Rosie!" she said sternly, "come - Father has opened a bottle of very good single malt. Let us drink a toast!"
Just as Hugh opened the bottle, Juliette came in, accompanied by Henri and Jacques, who were in very high spirits indeed. They had been out fishing, and described to the company in their ever-improving English how they had caught huge fishes and brought them home for supper.
"They wanted to bring them in but I would not let them," she laughed.
"Where is Monique?" Maisie asked, frowning, "I want to tell her our good news."
"She is sleeping," Juliette answered, "she has been sleeping for the last two hours. She is feeling a little unwell. I think it is best to leave her."
"She looked very pale," Hugh said anxiously. Juliette laughed.
"Do not worry Hugh - the mysteries of a woman's body should not concern you," Juliette's voice was light, but Hugh was still worried.
After the toast, he went upstairs to see Monique. He found her half-asleep and half-awake, and she gave him a drowsy smile as he came in.
* * *
"Are you all right?" he asked worriedly. She laughed.
"Of course I am," she answered, "Juliette and I had a hard ride this morning and I think it took it out of me. I'm fine, mon chèr, don't worry."
"I feel like climbing in with you," he laughed, "we're about to have dinner and I am very, very hungry!" he pretended to bite the side of her neck like a vampire, "I could eat you up! Are you coming down?"
She yawned, stretching so that he could see the straining of her breasts against the fabric. He felt a surge of desire but fought it down. Monique smiled.
"Shoo!" she said, flapping her hands at him, "I am coming now."
"Yes, Madam!" He jumped up, and went out, grinning. What a woman!
Logan was absent that night attending to estate duties, and Rosina missed him. Monique, Hugh, Juliette, Maisie, Findlay and the twins were all seated around the table, but the love of her life had gone to his own home to dine alone. It was a five-mile ride in the freezing darkness, so she consoled herself with the fact that she would see him next day, and picked at her food instead of eating it. Just as the plates were being cleared away the dining room door open and Logan strode in, bringing in with him the smell of fresh air.
* * *
"Logan!" Rosina ran to him, and he wrapped his arms around her, laughing. His eyes seemed particularly blue, and he looked happier than she had ever seen him.
"I thought I wouldn't see you tonight! What is that big smile for?" she asked.
He sighed, still smiling.
"Because I could not bear an evening without you," he replied, kissing her cheek, "I feel as though a weight has been lifted off my shoulders," he replied, "I didn't realize how much strain I had been under till I saw them taking Connor away."
* * *
Rosina's face clouded.
"He is just like his brother after all," she said scornfully, "I will be happier if I never see his face again!"
59
The Wedding
It must be terrible to be a woman, Logan thought as he watched bolts of multicolored silks, skeins of threads, samples of different shoes and thousands of silk flowers. Somehow he thought Rosina would be above all this fuss, but it seemed not. She was as susceptible to it as the next woman, and since she could afford to indulge herself and the other two brides he could not see the harm in it. He nearly tripped over one of the little seamstresses on her way to do some mysterious errand for Rosina. As he steadied her he could see that she looked terrified, probably because she was so tiny and he was so huge. He strode across the hallway and was intercepted by Hugh on his way to the parlor for a drink.
"I'm exhausted," Hugh said plaintively, "this wedding is killing me."
Logan clapped him on the back, laughing, and ordered some milk from a passing servant. They sat commiserating with each other for a while till Findlay came in and he chipped in with his catalog of grievances.
"Let them enjoy it," he said indulgently, "all we have to do is show up at the church looking smart, but for the lasses it's a big excuse to show off how beautiful they are," he topped up his whiskey glass and looked at Logan's milk. "will you not keep us company, Logan?"
Logan shook his head.
"Alas, I cannot," he smiled sadly, "in my youth I overindulged and now one glass is too many."
Findlay nodded understandingly and said no more. Presently all three of the ladies came in dressed for dinner. Monique had recovered from her stomach upset and was now her normal self.
"February the seventeenth," she said, sighing, "a whole week to go!"
* * *
"You will survive!" Hugh assured her, "then we will go on our honeymoon in the Trossachs and after that, you can come and be Lady Buchanan."
* * *
"And I will be Deputy Assistant Estate Manager of Dumbarton Castle," Maisie announced proudly.
"And I will be Lady Rosina Fraser!" Rosina sighed theatrically, "I sound like royalty!"
Logan went down on one knee.
"You are my Queen!" he said dramatically, then spoiled the moment by announcing: But I may be tempted to eat you if I don't get dinner very soon!"
Three brides and three grooms stood in front of the minister in the small chapel of Dumbarton Castle. The congregation consisted of the aristocracy from miles around but the servants from both Dumbarton and Fraser castles had been invited to a feast of their own after the guests had finished.
It would be some years yet before Queen Victoria made white wedding dresses fashionable, so the brides were arrayed in beautiful jewel colors. Rosina was wearing rust with cream lace, Monique teal blue with black lace, and Annie deep maroon with gold lace. Juliette was wearing a deep lilac creation and caught the eye of many an eligible man as she sat in the front pew with her sons. The men looked proud and handsome in their clan kilts, claymores by their sides with tweed jackets and great silver brooches studded with Cairngorm stones.
* * *
The excitement in the air was palpable and there was a deafening cheer as the six newly-weds came out to a shower of rice which guests and servants alike were throwing from in copious amounts.
They all ducked, laughing into the great hall where the hailstorm of rice ceased and the grooms were able to kiss their brides in peace. They all congratulated each other then went into the wedding feast.
Logan had never really overcome his shyness about dealing with crowds of people, preferring his nearest and dearest, and Rosina could tell by his body language that he was starting to close in on himself. Fortunately Hugh was speaking for all of them.
Hugh clinked the side of his glass for attention.
"My Lairds, Ladies, and Gentleman!" He began, "they say that we Scots are mean and stingy. Well, that is true. Logan, Findlay and I contributed to a single wedding so we only had to feed each of you once!"
* * *
There was a general chorus of laughter and a few shouts of mock indignation before Hugh went on.
"But seriously, this is a very special occasion, since I have not only acquired a beautiful new wife but a new son-in-law," then he indicated Maisie and Findlay, "and Maisie, who has always been part of our family has a new spouse too. Please welcome Mr and Mrs Baxter!" There was a rousing chorus of cheers. "And my new sister-in-law Juliette and her sons
Henri and Jacques, my new nephews."
* * *
"I know that my daughter is in the capable hands of Laird Logan Fraser - may God help him!" There was a ripple of laughter. "As for me, I count myself the most fortunate man alive - look at my gorgeous Monique!" Monique blushed, among more cheers accompanied by much stamping of feet and tinkling of glasses. Hugh grinned and shouted:
* * *
"Eat, drink and be merry, my friends!"
The company needed no second bidding.
* * *
At the end of the evening they were exhausted, having shaken so many hands and said so many 'Thank Yous' that their throats were sore.
Monique, in particular, was again feeling tired and queasy. She had not eaten a thing throughout the feast and drunk nothing but a glass of wine mixed with water. They were standing outside listening to the sounds of merriment from the servants' hall and waving away the last guests when she caught her breath and clutched her stomach. Hugh was immediately by her side as she bent over, still holding on to herself and gasping.
* * *
"What is it, My Love?" His voice was panicky, "are you in pain? Tell us what is wrong."
Juliette managed to make her stand up, then took her hand away and gently felt the place where it had been.
"Mon Dieu! My God!" she cried.
* * *
Hugh was seriously alarmed now.
"What's wrong? Tell me, Juliette!" he was almost crying now.
But to his surprise, Juliette was laughing.
* * *
"Rien du tout, mon frère," she replied, "nothing at all my brother. Feel."
Hugh put his hand on the place that Juliette had indicated and felt a barely perceptible tap-tap under his palm.
"Tu es enciente," Juliette said to her sister, "you are with child."
A rapid exchange of French followed between the two sisters with much gesticulating and shouting.
"It cannot be!" Monique cried, at last in English, "the doctors said -"
"The doctors were wrong, ma soeur," Juliette said fondly, "I have some experience of this condition!"
The tears were pouring down Hugh's face as he kissed his wife.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you," he whispered to her.
* * *
"They call the first kicks 'the quickening'" Monique informed them, "I am sure that if it happens on a wedding day it is good luck."
The others crowded around to offer their congratulations but after a while, Hugh decided that Monique had had enough for one day. He swept her off her feet and carried her upstairs in his arms.
60
Afterglow
Monique lay down beside Hugh in the big bed and tucked her head into the hollow of his neck and shoulder. He kissed the top of her head and shook his head slowly.
"I cannot believe it," he said incredulously, "when will it be?"
"Neither can I," she smiled, "Juliette says that if I can feel the quickening I must be three months gone at least, so sometime in the summer, she says. Are you happy?"
"No," he said simply, "it is far too small a word. Now, let us sleep because you need your rest now. There are two of you."
* * *
"Oh no!" Monique leaned on her elbow to look down at him, "This is our wedding night, and we will not waste it sleeping!"
He looked at her incredulously for a moment then made a playful growl and rolled her over on her back. Then suddenly he stopped.
"I will not hurt the baby, will I?"
"Juliette says not," she assured him, "not right now, anyway."
"I'm so very glad," he said fervently.
He felt twenty years younger, a newly married man with a lovely youthful wife already carrying his child. Could his life be any better?"
* * *
Monique answered him kiss for kiss, and all thoughts of Connor were banished forever as she joyfully received him into her body and tasted the bliss of true love.
Maisie was terrified. She had told Rosina the facts of life, but theory and practice were two different things, and now, when the moment had come she was trembling with a mixture of fear, anticipation, and desire. Tonight she would become Findlay's wife, with all that that entailed, and she wondered how ready she was. She had never wanted a maid, so she began to undo her elegant coiffure by herself before she felt the gentle touch of Findlay's hands on her neck pulling out the pins for her and gently teasing out the coils. After a few moments he took away his fingers and replaced them with his lips, bestowing soft teasing kisses on her that made her begin to ache with desire. Then he sat her down at her dressing table while he brushed her hair with long, careful strokes that made her scalp tingle deliciously. She looked at his reflection in the mirror and he smiled at her fondly.
* * *
"All right, lass?" he asked.
"Perfect, thank you, Finn," she smiled back. After a few more strokes he put the brush down and pulled her into his arms. He held her for a long time till her heart was racing and she could hardly stand the waiting. She pulled away from him and began to unlace her dress. He helped her then pulled it off her shoulders with her petticoat, caressing her shoulders. He made her sit down while he peeled off her stockings. She submitted mutely. This was what she had always dreamed of - being adored by a man she loved as much as life itself.
Then she hitched herself onto the bed and lay naked while she watched him undress. She did not feel frightened anymore. Instead, she felt lustful, wanton and free, as if she had shaken off the chains of propriety and good manners. Now it was only the two of them, animals in their warm den. She watched Findlay undress and smiled. Everything was going to be all right now.
* * *
He lay down on the bed beside her and took her in his arms then kissed her gently, brushing back the dark hair from her brow.
"I love you, Margaret MacLeod Baxter," he said, and his voice was soft and thick with desire.
"I didn't know what it meant till I met you, she whispered, trailing her lips down the column of his neck. He moaned in pleasure till she peeled off his eye patch.
* * *
"No," he said, his voiced a panicked whimper.
"Ssshh," she said gently, kissing the puckered skin of the empty eye socket, "I love you - all of you - even this."
* * *
He had wanted their first time to be gentle, and it was. Maisie's desire had made her ready for him, and when he entered her there was almost no pain. She clung to him as they moved together and presently a feeling of pleasure she could never have imagined swept over her again and again till it subsided, leaving her sated and warm. Findlay lay beside her with his arm flung around her waist.
* * *
"How are you, Maisie?" he asked tenderly.
"I feel as if I have just found heaven," she replied, rapturously.
"Good, because I would not have done my duty properly otherwise."
"I will make sure you do it every day," she giggled.
"I can't believe it!" Rosina said incredulously as Logan slowly peeled off her garments. Usually, she was afire for him by this time but she was so taken up with thinking about her father and Monique that she could hardly tear her thoughts away from them," after all this time I am going to have a sister or brother!" Logan took her by the chin and turned her face around to his, frowning.
* * *
"Wife," he said firmly, "if you are so fascinated by someone else's pregnancy maybe you should work on one of your own?"
Rosina's laugh was smothered by his passionate kiss and in a few moments she had forgotten about everything except her desperate need for Logan. They had been in separate bedchambers and separate castles for two weeks, and now they had a fierce hunger that needed to be satisfied. Rosina loved the feeling of Logan's skin rubbing against hers, and the play of his hard muscles as he moved against her. And he rejoiced in the softness of her breasts, her smooth skin, and the cry she made when they both reached fulfilment. Afterwards, they lay, sleepy and contented,
sated with love.
* * *
"Goodnight Lady Fraser," he murmured.
"Goodnight, Husband," she replied. Then she opened her eyes again.
"Logan?"
"Rosie?" his tone was slightly irritable.
"If we have a boy, can we call him Hugh?"
Logan sighed.
"We have yet to conceive him - or her," he pointed out.
"Yes, but what if -"
"Rosie?"
"Yes, Logan?"
"Shut up!" he turned his back on her, but he was smiling. Rosina put her arm around his waist and pulled him close. They fell asleep in seconds.
So three very happy couples went to bed that night, and while the snow fell and the wind howled outside, they went to sleep in each others' arms, kept warm by cocoons of love.