Caledonia

Wedding

After following the young priest down a long, quiet hall, Callie found herself alone in another small room to prepare for the wedding. The priest explained that she would have an hour to get ready for the ceremony and then someone would come to escort her when it was time to walk to the chapel. Now alone, her thoughts went back to her most recent, too brief conversation with laird Alex Campbell, her intended husband. Sighing in resignation, she knew he was right about her reputation as a maid being ruined if any word would get out among the Highland clans if she didn't marry one of the men in his patrol. Even if this impromptu marriage to Alex wasn't something she thought was right to happen on principle, given that nothing untoward had transpired between her or any of the men. Callie knew that she wouldn't have too many options if her reputation was ruined by vicious rumours. She felt an abundant wave of relief flood into her body when hearing Alex announce that he felt it was his duty to take care of her and not allow one of his other warriors to become her husband. There was something about Alex's presence which made her feel safe when he was around. It was a strange feeling, but a welcome one. The other men were pleasant to her, but none of them held her attention in the same fascinating way Alex did from the moment they met after she survived the attack. She knew it in her bones, as soon as he first touched her last night if she was being honest with herself. When the attraction to Alex first took hold, she couldn't allow herself to hope anything would come of the feelings he evoked in her thoughts and body. The situation for Callie was made all the more precarious by the fact she spent last night sleeping next to Alex, covered by his personal tartan. It wouldn't likely matter to some people if they knew she hadn't been conscious of her actions while sleeping next to him. Not if she chose to marry another warrior in his clan. Her reputation would be forever sullied and she didn't want that for herself, as it would bring dishonor to the memory of her beloved parents.

She hurriedly bathed and washed her hair with the bar of lilac-scented soap set out next to a long, strip of linen on a side table. Callie was grateful for the large, copper tub of hot water set thoughtfully before the fire in the small bedchamber where she was escorted by the younger priest to prepare for the ceremony. It felt incredibly good to rid her body of dirt from the travel and it helped to put some of the awful memories of the violent attack behind her. Soothing her sore muscles, the hot bath made her feel more alert. She sat on a high-backed chair afterwards, wearing the muslin cloth wrapped about her body while brushing out her thick, long hair in front of the fire and trying in vain to tame the waves into submission. All the while, she couldn't help but think about Alex, his fiery kisses, and the frisson of unknown emotions which began to stir inside her, since his first touch elicited such an electric charge in her innocent body. Callie wondered if he felt the same reaction from their embrace, then scowled when wondering how many lasses Alex bedded who would be waiting at his keep when they returned as husband and wife. These women might expect him to continue visiting their beds and Callie wouldn't have any right to tell him no. A wife was the property of her husband, having no more rights than an animal in the eyes of the law. It wasn't something Callie ever worried about until now and it sat heavily on her mind. She also worried about the possible negative reaction from the members of his clan to the news he married a lass none of them knew. His warriors were polite enough to her, but others might not react in kind.

There was a Campbell tartan laid out, waiting to put over her shift and tunic dress. Her clothing must have been fetched by one of the men from her small, traveling bag on her mare. She was glad someone thought to bring it for her to wear, since it was a clean one which was a damn sight better than her riding dress, stained with dirt and blood from the vicious attack in spite of her unsuccessful attempt to scrub it clean this morning. Callie wrapped the long plaid around her body as best she could, given that no one was in the room to assist her. She immediately noticed how it carried the same scent as Alex himself, a heady combination of worn leather, woods, and potent invitation. He must have discussed her wearing the tartan with Malcolm earlier for it to be in this room waiting to be worn. Callie hoped it was his symbol of showing the other men whose lady she would become tonight in marriage. Her small hands shook with understandable, pre-wedding jitters, as she braided a long, simple plait down her back. Her hands flew to her stomach, as it rolled in a fit of nerves. There was food and ale set out for her in the room, but Callie had no appetite and left it untouched. She had no earthly idea how to be a wife and no one to tell her what she needed to know in time for the events after the wedding ceremony tonight, either. It was certainly not a topic that she felt remotely comfortable asking one of the priests. How the hell did this happen? She escaped her uncle's clutches just yesterday to avoid to an undesirable marriage to the much older, ruthless Cameron laird only to land herself into another wedding, albeit unplanned to a virtual stranger two days later. If she was being honest with herself, this enigmatic groom wasn't exactly unwanted by Callie when compared to the first, more vile prospect chosen by her uncle to improve his wealth. Ruggedly handsome laird Alexander Campbell was far more appealing of a groom than Callie ever dared to dream given her uncle's plans to gain control of her father's land.