After the Storm

by Tia Isabella

  Sara’s surly disposition immediately took a turn for the better as a serene smile enveloped her face. “He forced me to talk to him, which eventually I did. We talked about many things, but to answer the question foremost in your mind, he promised that the only reason he had not yet asked me to marry him was out of respect for Thomas. He said that you and the laird needed to be given the respect of having this week belong only to the two of you. He swore that he was going to ask me right after the wedding.”

  Maya beamed wickedly at Sara. “I agree wholeheartedly about this whole respect thing. In fact, when I’m officially the lady around here, I think I want you to bow to me every time I walk into a room you’re in.” At Sara’s raised middle finger, Maya fell back onto the bed and laughed.

  Sara grinned and sat down next to Maya. She became momentarily distracted by Fred, who was laying as contented as a king under Maya’s covers. She nudged her best friend on the knee. “What are you going to do with Fred? You know Thomas isn’t going to share a bed with him.”

  Maya got her giggles under control, wiped the tears from her eyes, and answered Sara. “The elder John had one of the men in the village build him a bed. Actually, he’s building one for Barney too. He said they will be delivered later today as a wedding present.”

  Sara nodded. She ran her fingers through her hair in agitation and sighed. “Are you certain he believes you?”

  Maya narrowed her eyes, having forgotten for a moment that this conversation was originally about her having divulged their twenty-first century origins to Thomas. “Yes, quite certain. Believe me, Thomas never hesitates to call me on anything. If he didn’t believe me, I’d no doubt be sporting a sore ass this morning. The man has this thing about spankings.” She frowned and shook her head.

  Sara laughed. “I guess it makes sense though.”

  “What does?”

  “That he would believe you. I mean, this is medieval Scotland. People still believe in the power of forces unseen. Not at all like the people of our day, you know.”

  Maya nodded. “I suppose in this situation that happens to be a good thing. If someone had tried to sell me this story, my twenty-first century bred mind never would have bought it.”

  Sara shook her head. “Nor would have mine.”

  The conversation was brought to a halt by a knock at the door. Maya sat up and pulled the covers up to her chin. “Come in.”

  A moment later, Lena came bounding into the room exuding enough excitement to make Maya and Sara grin. “Are ye ready for yer bath tae be brought up, milady?”

  “Certainly. I guess we better get the show on the road, eh Lena?” At Lena’s wrinkled brow, Maya corrected herself. “That is to say, we had better begin preparing for the wedding.”

  Lena nodded her head up and down emphatically then walked back over to the door. She opened it wide and yelled a command down to Argyle to see to his lady’s bath. “Lady Sara, yer lady’s maid is waiting for ye in yon chamber. Ye best get ready yerself,” Lena chided as she skipped back into the room.

  Sara smiled and saluted her, causing another curious look to smother Lena’s face. “Aye, aye Commander Lena,” Sara teased as she patted the girl on the head and strode toward the chamber door.

  Sara turned around and blew Maya a kiss. Maya pretended to catch it. Sara laughed and left the room, closing the door softly behind her.

  A moment later Argyle came in carrying Maya’s tub with two other soldiers. “Be careful, “Lena lectured him in a warning tone, “ye are spilling water on milady’s floor.”

  Argyle put the tub down in front of the hearth, shooed the other soldiers from the room, and turned to confront Lena. “I think ye are quite the harridan, Lena.”

  Lena wrinkled her nose and drew herself up to her full height. “I think somebody needs correct yer careless behavior, Argyle. Ye leave much work fer the lower servants tae clean up.”

  Maya grinned from her bed as the twosome exchanged heated words for another minute or so. It was apparent to her that they liked each other, but weren’t quite ready to admit to it yet.

  Argyle raised his voice, inducing Maya to widen her eyes in surprise. Never before had she heard him so angry. “Ye may be the highest of maidens around here because ye are cousin tae the MacGregor and because ye serve only milady, but ye are still just Lena tae me! Ye would do well tae remember that afore I put ye o’er my knee!”

  Lena assumed the haughty stance that Maya often did when offended. “Leave us Argyle, afore ye cause milady tae be late tae the church doors. The MacGregor will no’ be verra pleased with ye.”

  Argyle turned red in the face, bowed to Maya, and headed for the door. “Beg pardon, milady. I am sorry fer the scene ye were forced tae witness.” He left without waiting for a reply.

  Lena shook her head and huffed towards the bed. “I apologize, Lady Maya. Argyle does no’ take tae instruction o’er well. He will learn in time.”

  Lena seemed so sure of that fact that Maya had to grin again. “Tell me Lena, do you…um…”—she cleared her throat—“fancy Argyle?”

  Lena’s face turned as pale as the bed sheets. “By the saints nay! I could never love such an overbearing mon as Argyle!”

  An half of an hour later, Maya scrubbed her body in the tub while Lena washed her hair, still ranting and raving over all of the reasons she could never love Argyle. Judging from Lena’s rather exhaustive list, it was evident to Maya that this young soldier was just the man for her lady’s maid. “…and ha’ I yet mentioned his arrogance, milady?”

  “About five times.”

  “Aye, well, he’s bluidy arrogant – tries tae gainsay me at every turn.”

  “Don’t forget his temper.”

  “Dreadful temper, tae be sure.”

  Maya winced as Lena began pulling her hair by the root while washing it. Her maid was getting a little too carried away in her impassioned denial of her love for Argyle and damn near ripping out Maya’s hair in the process. “…and let us no’ forget that he can be depressing tae the spirits at times, milady. Argyle is quite the voice of gloom and doom.”

  Maya nodded. On that score, she could agree with her.

  “And his stubbornness,”—Lena shook her head with a sarcastic laugh—“damned obstinate.”

  “Uh Lena,” Maya pleaded, “do you think you might not pull at my hair quite so hard, sweetcakes?”

  Lena released Maya’s hair at once, her face growing as red as the embers in the hearth. “Oh milady, pray forgive me. I dinna mean…that is tae say…”

  “Do not fret over it, Lena,” Maya quickly reassured her with a chuckle. “I understand what love can do to a girl.”

  Lena wrinkled her nose and shook her head in dismay. “’Tis that obvious milady?”

  Maya grinned. “Only to another woman. I’m certain your secret will be safe from Argyle until you’re ready for him to know.”

  Lena rinsed the soap from Maya’s hair then helped her from the bathtub. She guided her to a chair near the hearth and began brushing out her mistress’s long mane of golden curls. The blissful feeling of the comb scraping against her scalp combined with the sedate heat from the fire almost lulled Maya back to sleep. She closed her eyes and smiled serenely as Lena worked her magic.

  “How did ye ken that the MacGregor loved ye?” Lena quietly asked as she continued to work the comb through Maya’s long hair.

  Maya smiled without opening her eyes. She chuckled when she thought of the comparison between her and Thomas and Lena and Argyle. “He always wanted to spank me.”

  * * * * *

  Two hours later, Maya was a bundle of raw nerves. She paced the length of her bedchamber floor, waiting for Sir Dugald to arrive and escort her to the chapel. Since Maya had no family to speak of here, it had been decided by Thomas that Dugald should have the honor of giving her away.

  “Jesus, Maya, will you stop the pacing!” Sara complained. “You’re starting to make me as nervous as you are.”

  Maya halted abruptly
and turned to face her. “I’m sorry. Do I look okay?”

  Sara smiled, her unflappable calmness smoothly back in place. “Maya darling, you look more beautiful than I thought it possible for a bride to look.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far.”

  “I would, Maya. You look…breathtaking.”

  And she did. Her gown was made of a fine silk that flowed to the length of the floor. Lena had hand-stitched dozens of tiny gems and delicate silk flowers into the intricate green velvet bodice. Maya’s hair was left unbound, as was Thomas’s preference, but was swept up on the sides and secured with the same tiny silk flowers and brocaded gold that Lena had woven into the dress. She looked like a medieval princess.

  A knock sounded on the chamber door causing Maya’s heart to race rapidly. She looked at Sara and at Sara’s excited nod she took a deep breath and bade Sir Dugald to come inside. He appeared moments later wearing his best plaid and held out his hand to Maya. “By the saints, milady. Thomas will fall on his arse when he sees ye looking so lovely!”

  Sara laughed at Maya’s blush. She walked over to where Maya stood and kissed her best friend on the cheek. Unshed tears glistened in her eyes and it was all that Maya could do after seeing them to keep from crying herself. “I love you.”

  “I love you too, Sara.”

  “Go get married.”

  “If you insist.”

  Chapter 16

  Thomas stood at the chapel doors next to Father Ryan and took a deep, calming breath. He knew he wasn’t going to feel safe until he saw Maya dismount with Dugald and walk to his side. He had barely slept the eve prior, so worried he was that his lady would try to run from him in the night to go back to this future she had spoken of. He had posted guards at her door to make certain that she didn’t leave him, yet still he hadn’t been able to sleep.

  Soon, in less than an hour’s time, Maya would be his to command by law. Until then…he sighed. He simply couldn’t relax.

  A young lad ran up from the back of the chapel and announced to Father Ryan that Lady Maya and Sir Dugald had arrived and were making their way to the front.

  Thomas blew out a breath. He was one step closer to claiming his love.

  Father Ryan ordered all present to stand in silence, thereby showing deference to the new Lady MacGregor as she made her walk toward the chapel doors to greet her new lord and master.

  Thomas looked around at the multitude of guests that were even now quieting down and he felt himself tense up again. From the dozens of MacGregor soldiers, to the village elders, to three neighboring clan lairds who had ridden to the keep to witness the joyous occasion, all were waiting impatiently to catch a glimpse of Lady Maya, most of them for the first time. The only of his friends who couldn’t be there was the Hamilton who was distracted with the need to suppress another uprising of the Kirkpatricks.

  When at last Maya appeared at the mouth of the crowd with Dugald at her side, gasps of excitement and awe rose up from the gathering. Thomas gazed at his bride with an expression that revealed nothing as she made her way through the parted crowd and toward the chapel doors. But by the saints, she was the loveliest woman in all of Scotland!

  The most welcoming smile Thomas had ever seen enveloped Maya’s face. Although his eyes didn’t betray his feelings, his heart had never felt more proud and at peace. ‘Twas hard to believe that a woman born to the world nigh seven hundred years after his death, was the only woman who could bring to him life. A primitive feeling of male possessiveness swept over Thomas like a raging tide. She was his.

  His.

  Maya heard the excited intakes of breath all around her, but she had eyes only for Thomas. He looked larger than life and handsome as a devil in his finery. His face gave no hints as to how he was feeling, but she had learned to read his eyes. She saw love and fulfillment in their dark depths and the realization of it made her heart rate quicken. Although he’d never actually voiced the words, she knew at that moment that his love for her was real. Maya had never felt luckier. He was hers.

  Hers.

  Dugald guided Maya to Thomas’s side in front of the chapel proper then left them with a formal bow. The guests filed in around the couple, all anxious to see the laird and lady take their vows.

  Maya smiled up to Thomas’s imposing figure as he winked down at her smaller one. He removed the plaid at his shoulder that had been held in place by a brooch and handed it to Father Ryan. The priest smiled down at Lady Maya, placed her hand atop the laird’s, and circled the plaid around their union.

  Maya took a deep breath. This was it. Her destiny.

  Father Ryan sealed her fate.

  * * * * *

  The reception was a lively affair that was attended by all the higher ranking of the MacGregor clan and a goodly number of higher-ranking people from three neighboring clans that were allied to Thomas as well. Maya had endured more well-wishing in the past hour than she had been obliged to endure for her entire life up until this point.

  She was placed next to her husband in the great hall at the raised table of honor. Sara was seated to her left and Dugald was at Thomas’s right.

  Maya looked over at her husband and smiled. She had never seen him in such an overtly jovial mood and it moved her deeply to witness it. He was quick to smile, quick to laugh, and even quick to jest. Marriage was going to do this overly serious man a world of good.

  The hall looked fabulous. The servants had certainly done a commendable job of readying it for so many guests. The noise in the hall was boisterous and happy and it brought a contented smile to her lips.

  Sara nudged Maya in the arm and grinned. “Here he comes.”

  Maya looked around in confusion, then settled her questioning gaze back on Sara. “Who?”

  “Harold the Sotted. I was introduced to him before the ceremony. It looks like he’s getting ready to sing a ballad to you.”

  Maya chuckled. “It looks like he’s downing another gallon of ale before his performance.” She rolled her eyes. “I can’t wait to hear what kind of a ballad he has concocted.”

  Thomas placed his hand over his wife’s, drawing Maya’s attention toward him. “Harold the Sotted will sing fer us now, love. I hope his musings are tae yer liking.”

  Maya grinned. “I’m sure they will be. I’m anxious to hear him.”

  Harold the Sotted was appropriately named, Maya decided. He was an older man with a slurred smile, a slightly distended potbelly, and eyes that carried the glazed over look of a man who thoroughly enjoyed his ale.

  Harold staggered over to stand before the Laird and Lady MacGregor, cleared his throat, and began strumming his harp. As his song began, Maya and Sara looked at each other and giggled. It appeared that the ballad was to be sung, strangely enough, to a tune that sounded dangerously close to the theme song from Gilligan’s Island. It was all Maya and Sara could do to keep from falling off their chairs with laughter.

  Just sit right back and enjoy this tale, a tale of a comely bride

  She’s as beautiful as an angel…and boasts a lovely hide.

  She doth boast a lovely hide.

  The men in the hall cheered.

  Maya frowned.

  Not only were medieval wedding receptions even bawdier than she had imagined, but it became quickly apparent to her who the author of that ridiculous prose that had been written about her in the ancient documents was. Great, she scowled, her legacy had been committed to history by a drunken pervert.

  By verse four of Harold the Sotted’s Gilligan’s Island parody, Maya was reaching for her third cup of ale. She didn’t think her face had ever been redder than it was right now.

  The laird hath never loved afore

  His heart an empty pod

  Then he took one look at his lady

  And wanted her on his rod.

  He did want her on his rod.

  The great hall boomed with laughter. Cheers went up from the MacGregor soldiers. Thomas roared in merriment. Dugald raised his tankard in salute to
Harold the Sotted.

  Sara fanned her glowing cheeks.

  Maya seethed in mortification.

  By verse ten, Maya was praying that the gods would strike her dead on the spot.

  Laird Thomas is a man most hard

  Lady Maya is so soft

  Tonight he’ll ride a’tween her legs

  Like a horseman o’er the croft.

  Like a horseman o’er the croft.

  Maya sighed. This was going to be the longest night of her life.

  * * * * *

  Maya sat upright in Thomas’s bed. Lena had just finished preparing her for the consummation of her vows and had left as quickly as she had entered. Any moment now, Thomas would be carried up the stairs by his overzealous soldiers and dropped onto their marriage bed.

  Maya was dressed in nothing but a thin chemise that clung to her body like lingerie. There was a chill in the autumn air that hardened her nipples and turned her arms to gooseflesh. She drew an animal pelt up to her chin to drown herself in its warmth. Maya sighed as she snuggled into it, then reflected on the day’s events.

  Her wedding day had started out so wonderfully, she mused. Thomas had looked ruggedly handsome in his finest tunic and plaid and had spoken his vows with such conviction that she knew he would always keep them. He was, if nothing else, an honorable man. Nothing at all like Nick.

  Even the reception had been beyond anything. If she was honest with herself, she had to admit that it had been a great time. Still, she would have had a much better time if Thomas hadn’t cut her off from the supply of ale. “Nay love,” he had chastised as he removed her fifth cup of ale from in front of her, “I would ha’ ye tae remember this night well, ye ken?”

  That was three hours ago. The feast came next, during which time Maya had enjoyed herself immensely. Unfortunately, after the feast, the MacGregor men coaxed Harold the Sotted into singing again, causing no end to her blushes.

  Rather than sympathizing with her plight, Thomas laughed when he saw how thoroughly embarrassed his bride was. That only made her frown. And her husband wouldn’t even let her drink. “Ye willna take tae the cups, Maya. Ye may be carrying my bairn already.”