by Allie Borne
“I pledge to honor my husband as my laird and trust his guidance in all that I do. I ask in return that you include my companion, Mary, within the clan and help to save her from the clutches of a vile, dishonorable man.” Merianne touched her broach, reading the words aloud, “Tout Prest,” she allowed them to hang in the air.
“I am ready to serve my clan. Thank you for your time, I promise you that I will gratefully give of mine, should you have need someday.”
As Meri looked to Redland to continue, he nodded his approval of her speech. “In three hours hence, I intend to marry this woman. I would ken now if the clan has qualms about this decision.”
Some murmuring occurred among the crowd and one woman piped up, “Ye’ll ‘ave yer ‘ands full with that red head, Laird, but I fer one look forward to seeing ‘ye tame her. We were afraid ye’d end up with a milk sop. She’s enough fire in her fer the both of ‘ye.”
“Aye, she’ll do,” another man laughed. “Better a fool-hearted lass full of passion than one that feels for naught. Marry her!” A chorus of ayes followed and the crowd became rowdy with the expectation of a celebration.
“That decided, then, I will expect a feast tonight!” bellowed Bryan, raising his ale mug aloft.
“Here! Here!” came the chorus of voices around them. The servants were soon scurrying about in preparation for the wedding.
Andrew approached the couple and offered his hand to Meri.
“Congratulations! I fer one am very pleased to see that my brother will be well matched. I had feared that his willingness to marry fer connections would prove disastrous. Although disaster has visited, tis no’ at all as I envisioned it. Thou art a fine lady and I admire yer commitment to those who serve ye.”
“Thank you, Sir Andrew. I hope that all ends well. I am overcome with the clan’s willingness to overlook my shortcomings. I hope I do not disappoint.”
As the preparations continued, many came to congratulate the couple and offer their words of sage advice. Several cups of cider had been thrust at Merianne and she was starting to feel light headed, with an empty stomach full of alcohol.
“Might I sit down for a moment?” Merianne asked Bryan quietly.
“While all of these people work to see to our celebration? I think no’.” Bryan returned cooly.
Merianne had a few choice words she wished to say to him just then, but she refrained, seeing that this was for the clan and not for her. “Then I will assist in the preparations. I cannot bear to stand still another moment.”
“It would be improper,” Bryan warned.
“I have been nothing but improper my entire life. I do not intend to act seemly now.”
Stepping from the platform, Merianne walked towards a servant carrying two heavily laden trays. “Here, allow me,” Merianne offered, taking one of the trays from the busty lass and carrying it to the table she indicated. “Have you any more to carry? I would appreciate having something to do as I am dreadfully nervous and the time is moving so slowly, standing there and waiting.”
“But it is yer wedding, Miss, you shouldn’t haf to do a thing!”
“You are right, I should not and I do not. But mightn’t I, if I wish it? It is my wedding, as you say.”
The bonny lass smiled broadly and said, “Follow me. I have a few trays left. I’d wager ye’d like a small morsel in yer stomach afore ye say yer vows. Ye look right ready to tip over, ya’ do.”
“Thank you,” Merianne smiled and followed the maid into the kitchens.
It was all Bryan could do not to follow her. Instead, he kept himself busy speaking with the priest and directing the flow of traffic.
“I would like the ceremony to be brief and the celebration long,” he told the priest and his brother. “Is there any word yet from Sir Robert on the infiltration of the Cumyn keep?”
“Nay, no word. But I have received correspondence from their laird. He agrees to the competition, with the understanding that ye produce proof that the woman in his possession is indeed the companion and not yer bride. He concedes no fault in the murder of the men whom he claims were on his lands.”
Bryan’s fist tightened and then released on his sword belt. He would like nothing more than to run the man through for his disgraceful actions. He would do what was right to maintain the peace, however. He would continue with the competition and punish the man by disgracing him in front of his people.
“Make certain that the competition field is set up well away from either keep. All weapons must be confiscated before anyone enters the grounds. Are we clear?”
“Aye, Lord Redland,” Sir Andrew inclined his head and left to return a message to the Cumyn clan.
When Meri returned moments later with another tray of food, Redland intercepted her and redirected her towards the priest.
“Miss Warren, this is Father Reagan. He will be marrying us today.
“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Father.”
“Likewise, child. I know that it is impertinent but I must ask, art thou marrying today of yer own free will?”
Merianne smiled at the older priest and responded, “As you are speaking to a woman who does as is bid by the men in her life, I will answer that question by qualifying it-I am marrying this day of my own will, as it has been advised of me by my father, my uncle, and my betrothed. I believe I am making the right decision and I am making the decision I have been asked to make.”
Father Reagan smiled and took Merianne’s hand. “While tis not a response that a besotted bride groom would likely be looking fer, tis a response that indicates to me you are aware of the seriousness of the commitment into which you are entering. I will marry ye with faith that yer marriage will be a blessed one.”
“I hope that you are right, Father Reagan. My betrothed finds me a trial, I am certain.”
“Nothing worth having is easily obtained, Lass. Keep that in mind,” Father Reagan chuckled, patting Merianne’s hand.
“I will, Father, thank you,” Merianne smiled in return.
“Let us all gather again in the great hall! The wedding will begin shortly!” came the deep rasping of Arthur’s booming baritone. Quickly, the crowd gathered and quieted. Before Merianne knew what was happening, the priest had begun the ceremony and asked for Bryan’s vows.
“I do.” Bryan stated resolutely.
“And thee, Merianne Rebecca Warren, do ye take this man to be yer lawfully wedded husband? Dost thou promise to love and obey him in all that ye do, in sickness, and in health as long as ye both shall live?”
Merianne looked up into the face of that avenging angel, and knew that she did, with all of her heart. “I do,” she stated clearly and resolutely.
“Then what God has put together, let no man break asunder. I now pronounce ye man and wife. Ye may kiss the bride.” Bryan grasped Merianne by the waist and dipped her down to kiss her thoroughly. The shouts and whistles from the crowd indicated their approval.
As Bryan led Merianne to her seat at the table, Sir Andrew lifted his glass. “A toast!” shouted Bryan’s brother, “To the Laird and his Lady. May their joys outshine their sorrows, may their fortunes outweigh their debts, may their victories out number their defeats, and may they always have children at their feet.”
Laughter and “Here, Here!” sounded around the room. Many more toasts followed, some getting more tawdry as the wine and cider flowed abundantly around the hall.
“A dance!” suggested Arthur. And although the moment seemed spontaneous and unanticipated to Merianne, she noticed a trio of men with various stringed instruments had set up in the corner and many had already stood to clear away the clutter in the hall. A country dance began and Bryan stood to accompany his bride onto the floor. Merianne adored dancing but Bryan was so tall, she did not know if she would do well dancing with a man as large as he.
She was not disappointed. Bryan moved as gracefully as a leopard, twirling her about the floor in controlled abandon. Merianne soon forgot her ill ease and wa
s laughing in pure enjoyment of the moment.
Six cups of cider bubbled up from her stomach, giving buoyancy to her mirth. Around and around they twirled until the rest of the dance floor blurred and it was just she and Bryan, the two of them, dancing on air. When he looked at her, his adoration shining in his eyes, she felt anything was possible. His forgiveness, his trust, his love.
All too soon, the music stopped and Bryan was leading her off of the dance floor. “Tis time we sent the lovers off to bed!” shouted Sir Robert, encouraging the lewd jeers and comments from the revelers. Arthur grabbed a candelabra and led the way up to the master bedroom.
Merianne felt herself wishing she had found the time to snoop around the room, as she had never before stepped foot in the space. She was as nervous as if she had not already lain with Bryan, perhaps more so. The two were shoved into the room as two twittering maid servants rushed from their preparations to exit the chamber.
As the door swung shut and Bryan bolted it, several men stayed behind to yell encouragement. Merianne stood stock still, looking at Bryan with eyes open wide.
“They’ll no’ go away until the morning. Some likely wench will wander by and assuage their appetites, no doubt. It is custom that someone witness the consummation. It used to be that the bed were placed in the hall itself, then the couple were taken to the chamber and disrobed, with the sheet being shared for all to see.” “The sheet?”
“The bed sheet, with the maiden’s blood.”
As Merianne paled, he continued, “That is no longer the case. Instead, they wait outside the door, hoping for some sound or hint of the marriage act. Tis a tradition, a brutish and uncivilized one, but no’ one that I will uproot tonight.”
Merianne nodded and looked at Bryan, uncertain of what it was he expected of her. “Seeing as how we have already lain together, I would say that we need not do so again tonight. However, we must consummate our marriage. I do no’ wish anyone to question the legitimacy of our nuptials. Seeing as it was originally our plan to pretend this marriage, I do not wish to encourage any rumors to that affect.”
Merianne nodded, in full agreement with his decision. She, however, had no wish to complete the marriage act within ear shot of a group of randy clansmen, either. The thought petrified her.
“Merianne, this door is solid wood. They will not be able to hear us. Tis naught but tradition. I want ye to relax and forget they even exist.”
Still, she stood, afraid to move or speak for fear of them hearing her words and laughing over them. “Are ye still no’ speaking to me?” Bryan asked.
Merianne shrugged. As Bryan drew closer, she whispered. “I am not speaking to them, I know that.”
Bryan laughed loudly and the men on the other side of the door whooped in encouragement. Quieting, he looked at his young wife and smiled. Merianne melted in the warmth of his gaze. His celestial beauty made it hard for her to remember why it was she was hurt and angry with him. Her body kept remembering all the wonderful sensations that he had given her that afternoon.
“I do not wish to lay with a man that does not respect me,” Merianne whispered vehemently, as much to convince herself as Redland.
“We have no problem, then, Merianne, as I respect ye.”
“How can you when you do not trust me?”
“I do no’ trust ye to make wise decisions. I respect ye in that I believe that ye always do what ye think is right at the time. Ye will become more trustworthy as ye experience more of life and responsibility.”
“Your words do little to endear me, Bryan. I feel as if I am your dependent, not your wife.”
“The two are no’ mutually exclusive. As my wife, ye are also my dependent.”
“When, as a woman, do I gain my independence?”
“We are, all of us dependent upon one another for our well being. Why can you not accept that?”
“I can accept interdependence. I cannot accept the system of my dependence on you and you needing nothing from me. It leaves me feeling worthless.”
“There ye are wrong. Without ye I have no one to care for me. I protect ye and guide ye. In return, ye nurture me and sustain me. Tis a circle, like the rings we have exchanged. We are, each of us dependent on the other.”
“Why must I be the half that follows orders and bends to thy will?” Merianne challenged.
“The same reason I must be the half that sacrifices my body for yer safety and those whom ye care about...Can ye no’ sacrifice some of yer autonomy knowing that I need to trust ye to follow my lead if, I am to endanger my life, and the lives of my men, in defending yer cause?”
“When you state it that way, it seems easy for me to do so,” Merianne responded openly.
“That is all I ask, that ye allow me to do my job and give due credit to the job ye have before thee. Ye are proud of yer willingness to care for those who follow yer orders. Can ye not also be proud of yer willingness to follow orders of those who care for ye?”
Merianne again nodded. This time, when Bryan approached her, she went willingly into his arms. “Let me help you with yer tartan,” Bryan offered, leaning close to remove the clasp and unwrap it slowly, methodically.
As he folded it, Merianne looked about her and noticed for the first time, the magic that the maid servants had rent in the room. Candlelight played in and out of the orange fingers of fire light that stroked the walls and bed. Small white flower petals perfumed the air with their light, sweet scent.
“It feels like fall and spring in here, all at the same time,” Meri sighed, contentedly.
“Well, ye smell and look and taste like summer, so I suppose that we have each season represented.”
Merianne smiled, “You are right. You smell of the outdoors, of crisp air and fir trees. You certainly smell of winter to me. And look at your hair and eyes! Your hair is like the snow, lit by the winter sun. Your eyes are like the ice of a pond.”
“I do not like being compared with winter.”
“Why not? There is no other season as powerful, as rejuvenating to the earth as winter,” Merianne smiled invitingly.
“I prefer summer,” Bryan rumbled.
“I believe that winter has much to recommend it,” Merianne giggled.
“Such as?”
“Such as that it is a time for rest. What is there to do but eat, drink, and be merry? Snowball fights, warm fires, cuddling, Christ’s Mass-”
Bryan interrupted Merianne’s monologue by grasping the back of her head and devouring her mouth in a deep kiss. “Well!” Meri breathed when Bryan allowed her to come up for air. “I have to admit, there is nothing cold about you!”
Bryan bent again to kiss her bruised lips, her jaw, her neck. He wished to see the rise and fall of her chest alter, as a result of his attentions. He was fascinated by her pert breasts. Suddenly, he realized that he had yet to see his wife naked. They had lain together with shift and tunic intact.
Slowly, Bryan began untying and loosening the string at the back of Meri’s gown. He nearly sighed in relief as the gown poured off of her shoulders and hips, into a puddle at her feet. Merianne stepped back and out of the dress, reaching up into the pile of curls atop her head, and releasing the pins that bound them.
Down tumbled the last remaining vestiges of propriety. Her tiny nipples poked eagerly through the shift Bryan had brought her. It was thinner, finer lawn than the one she had worn earlier. He could see each curve that it clung to and he simultaneously applauded and cursed himself for the gift.
Closing the distance between them, Bryan closed his fists about the material and pulled it up and over her head. Gasping, Merianne lost her nerve and covered herself with her arms. Bryan chuckled and closed the distance between them once more. He realized, when they touched, that he was still fully dressed.
Grasping her hands, he placed them on his own plaid. “Help me to get ready for bed, Wife,” he whispered huskily, dipping his head for another rousing kiss.
Merianne unhooked his clasp and unwound the
plaid. She dared not let it drop to the ground, but held it against her bare breasts and turned to set it on the chair beside them. Bryan growled at the glimpse of her firm bum. Reaching out, he grasped her hips and brought her against him once more. He plundered her mouth and filled his hands with her tight, round bottom.
Merianne made quick work of pulling off his short red vest and saffron tunic. Soon he stood as bare as she. Bryan stood back to admire his wife’s form, in all of its glory. Her copper hair fell down past her hips, acting as a racy curtain which high lighted her perfect symmetry. She was built with efficiency in mind. Not a part of her was ill formed, or in excess. She was, in every manner, a beautiful fairy.
Merianne was awestruck by her husband’s anatomy. Every part of his body was made up of muscles. Her eyes admired how each contour ran fluidly into the other. She would love to see the man swim, watch his back and shoulders move. The scar on his lip, she discovered, was not his only mark. A long, thin scar ran at a straight diagonal across his chest and ribs. Another, more ragged scar blossomed on his right hip.
Merianne touched these places in praise and thankfulness. Without them, she would not trust that her husband was human. Without them, she would not have a reminder of what he sacrificed by being in charge.
She kissed the scar on his lip, along the scar, from his right nipple to his left rib cage. She kissed the scar on his right hip and Bryan moaned. “Ach, ye must stop, Mona mi, or I shall lose control o’ myself.”
“Have I done something wrong?” she asked, uncertain of the appropriateness of her behavior.
“Nay, no’ at all,” Bryan responded, sweeping her up in his arms and depositing her on the plush pillows by the fire place. “The bed squeaks,” he explained when he lay beside her on the rug.
Without warning, Bryan captured her breast in his mouth and began suckling. “Oh,” Merianne sighed, sinking into the pillows. Playing his fingers lightly over the other breast, Bryan switched sides, paying due attention to the other nipple. Merianne moaned and wiggled in frustration. She ran her hands along Bryan’s sides and stomach. As he kissed down her stomach, she sucked in her breathe. Bryan kissed her legs and the insides of her thighs.