Lady of Light (13 page)

Gazing down on him, Claire thought Evan the most brave, wonderful man she had ever known. It took great honesty to recognize when you had done wrong, and great courage to own up to it. She only wished she possessed that same courage when it came to telling Evan the real truth about her past.

It was a secret that could well jeopardize their future together. Indeed, it might well change how Evan felt about her. And she was far from ready to risk that—no matter how great the sin in keeping the truth from him.

The first banns, announcing their impending marriage in a month’s time, were read in St. Columba’s that Sunday. No legitimate protests against their upcoming wedding were filed, even if the announcement stirred a passing ruckus in the back of the church, where Dougal sat. That afternoon, Claire and Evan made a trip to Donall and Lainie’s to share the good news with them and request that the old couple stand as witnesses to their marriage.

Once Lainie finally understood the reason for the excitement—after much shouting and many explanations from her husband—she tearfully accepted for the both of them. Next, she promptly took down the MacKay clan harp and offered it to Claire as a wedding present. “Our line will die with us,” she insisted when Claire protested. “But if I pass it on to ye and Evan, the harp will remain with true kin. Ye must take it, lass. Besides, who else but a fellow harper would treasure it as much?”

After much hesitation, Claire finally agreed to exchange her clarsach for Lainie’s, knowing full well that she had gained a far greater heirloom in the trade. On the way home she clutched the beautiful harp to her, feeling as if, even before she wed Evan, she already belonged to his family.

Twice more, in successive Sundays, the banns were read. Twice more, Dougal mumbled and grumbled, but never once could he be found after Mass or in Evan’s near vicinity to “discuss” his complaints. Several times in the ensuing weeks, Claire and Evan also met with Father MacLaren to discuss their impending marriage and the realities of wedded life. Claire bought fabric and hand-stitched a long, white wedding gown. Plans were made to hold an early evening wedding Mass in St. Columba’s, followed by a sumptuous supper cooked and served by Mrs. Fraser in the rectory. And, finally, in the midst of all the excitement and preparations, the morning of their wedding arrived.

“Drat! Drat! Drat!” Claire exclaimed for the umpteenth time that morning. She stomped about the cottage searching for yet another item to pack in the big steamer trunk holding all of her and Ian’s earthly possessions for the trip to America. “Now where did I put my sewing basket? And where’s my good winter shawl?”

From their vantage on the stoop outside the front door, Evan and Ian shared a commiserating grin. As Claire worked herself into an ever-worsening frenzy, both males had finally decided the wisest course was to beat a hasty retreat. And there they had remained for the past hour, with little hope things would soon calm enough to venture back inside.

“She rarely gets this way,” the boy spoke up at last. “In case you were beginning to wonder if wedding her was such a grand notion after all.”

Evan chuckled. “Well, that’s reassuring.”

“I think Claire’s just verra nervous, what with a wedding this eve, then us all leaving Culdee on the morrow’s coach. She’s had a lot on her mind of late, you know?”

“Yes,” Evan agreed solemnly, “I know. I just wish there was something I could do to ease her anxiety. In the end, I
am
the cause of it all.”

Ian nodded. “Aye, that you are. I suppose, though, it can’t be helped.”

Evan grinned at the boy. “So, you’re not having second thoughts about leaving Culdee then?”

“Nary a one!” Ian laughed. “Why, I can’t believe my good fortune. I’m going to be a cowboy! Do you know how jealous all the lads at school are because of that? Suddenly, I’m no longer the outcast or source of ridicule. Not that I ever gave a fig for what any of them thought of me,” he muttered as an afterthought. “They all looked down on me—and Claire, too—just because we weren’t from these parts. But now they have to stay, while we leave for the land of cowboys and Indians. And
we
can look down on
them!”

“There’s a lot to be said for Scotland and Scottish ways,” Evan offered gently, unwilling for Ian to speak poorly of his own land. “You shouldn’t think ill of this place. In many ways it has helped form you into the person you are. Why, even in the short time I’ve been here, I’ve found much to inspire me. I’m grateful for the friendships made, kinfolk rediscovered, and the life I’ve had the good fortune to live. But, most of all, I’m grateful for you and Claire. You both mean so much to me.”

As if he were struggling to contain a smile, Ian’s mouth twitched at the corners. “I thank you for saying that. We haven’t had verra many friends except each other, and Claire has given up a lot for me. I want her to be happy, too….”

Inside the house, something fell to the floor. From the loud crash and clatter, Evan gathered it was something breakable. His supposition was quickly confirmed when Claire gave a wail of anguish, then began to weep. Evan glanced at Ian, who shrugged sympathetically.

“I’d say,” the lad commented smugly, “it’s past time
you
were heading back into the house. Claire’s not one much given to weeping. Something must truly be twisting her insides to make her cry. And, since you’re her intended, I’d say the honor now falls to you. Just one thing more, though.” He pulled out a small, cloth bag and offered it to Evan.

“What’s this?” Evan asked.

“The money I owe you for Jamie’s debt. Consider it my wedding gift.”

Wordlessly, Evan accepted the bag. Ian blushed, shrugged, and climbed to his feet. For a fleeting moment more he gazed down at Evan, then turned and sauntered away.

Mixed feelings assailed Evan. He was happy Ian trusted him enough to admit a wrongdoing, that the boy was man enough to finally attempt to set things right. But the confirmation that Ian was a thief wasn’t all that comforting, especially now, on the eve of leaving for the States. He could only hope that things would be different once they got to Colorado.

Inside the little croft house, the sound of Claire’s weeping continued. Ian glanced back over his shoulder, his mouth quirking in commiseration.

“Coward,” Evan muttered affectionately, eyeing the boy’s retreating form with envy. Then, with a deep exhalation of breath, he pocketed the money, climbed to his feet, and reentered the croft house.

Claire sat on the hearth, her face in her hands, weeping inconsolably. At her feet lay the scattered remains of a clay pot that had once held barley meal, now lying wasted on the floor. Evan hesitated but a moment, then walked over and took a seat beside Claire on the hearth.

“It was only an old jar, sweetheart. You couldn’t have taken it with you anyway.”

“I-I know,” she sobbed.

Perplexed now, he slid closer and slipped an arm around her shoulders. “Then what’s the matter? This isn’t like you, Claire.”

With a soft moan, she leaned into him and laid her head on his shoulder. “I-I don’t kn-know! This should b-be the happiest day of my life, and I’ve never f-felt so out of sorts or confused.” She wept all the harder. “Och, Evan. What’s wr-wrong with me?”

Unease gripped him. The worst possibility of all assailed him. What if Claire was having second thoughts about getting married? What could he say to ease her doubts? And what if nothing helped? What would he do then?

“Maybe it’s just a case of pre-marital jitters,” he finally ventured. “I’ve heard it can affect folks in different ways.”

“N-nay, it isn’t th-that. It’s far, far w-worse!”

This time, fear clamped hard around Evan’s heart. Please, God, he fervently prayed. Don’t let it end here. I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose Claire, too.

Yet, even as he lifted the prayer, Evan also knew he didn’t want Claire to enter into their marriage with doubts, or reluctantly. He loved her too much to purposely risk hurting her. So, with a sinking heart, he held her close and asked the one question he dreaded asking above all others.

“Are you regretting having agreed to marry me, then? Do you want to postpone the wedding?”

With a cry, Claire jerked back. “Och, nay. Never!” The terror in her eyes, however, gave lie to her words.

“You don’t really love me, do you?” Evan forced himself to ask. “Tell me the truth, Claire. You owe me that much at least.”

She nodded, averting her gaze. “Aye, that I do. But the truth … may turn you against me … once and for all.”

“You shouldn’t marry a man you don’t love.”

At that, she lifted her tear-filled gaze back to his. “It isn’t my love I’m worried about, but yours, once I tell you …”

With a sob, Claire clutched at him, clenching the fabric of the white shirt he wore in her hands. “I love you, Evan, with my whole heart, but I fear … I fear …”

“What? What do you fear? Tell me, sweetheart. Nothing can be so terrible that, together, we can’t overcome it.”

“I love you, but … but I fear I may be using you in the bargain. That day you first met Dougal, he said some things to me. Things that hurt because I wondered if they weren’t true.”

“And what were those things he said, Claire?”

“Dougal accused me of setting my sights on you because I imagined a better life awaited me in America. He said I wanted a better life for Ian there, too, that I hoped my brother would finally change and become a good lad away from here. Then he said I was only using you as an excuse to run away from my people and responsibilities here.”

“It doesn’t matter what Dougal said.” Relief washed through Evan. “What matters is what
you
believe. Do you think you’re marrying me just to use me?”

“Och, nay, Evan. I love you. Truly I do. But it’s also true that I stand to gain so verra much in wedding you. Yet what do you really gain in the bargain?”

He chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest to sink deeply and reassuringly into hers. “I gain a wonderful, brave, intelligent, loving woman. And, though I might have more materially to offer you than what you have here, life on a ranch isn’t what anyone would call an easy living. The land is hard, the work backbreaking for men and women alike, and there are never any guarantees about anything. You’ll be expected to carry your fair share, and sometimes even more. So will Ian, for that matter.”

He smiled, his gaze full of love. “But what matters now isn’t what might happen, but what
will
happen. I love you, Claire. More than anything I’ve ever wanted, I want you to be my wife. The only question remaining is, do you still want to marry me?”

Once more tears filled her eyes and coursed down her cheeks. “Aye, Evan,” she whispered hoarsely. “More than anything, I still want to marry you.”

The light from the wall cruisie bathed the room in a soft, golden glow. Fresh-cut flowers scented the air with their sweet fragrance. Clean sheets, plump pillows, and a fluffy comforter beckoned invitingly.

Though everything was prepared—including Ian spending the night at St. Columba’s rectory—Claire paced the room nervously, one moment nearly striding to the door to call Evan to her, then the next wheeling about and hurrying to the opposite end of the room to clasp her arms about her protectively. If she had known how panic-stricken she would have been tonight—her wedding night—she was certain she’d have never had the courage to go through with the marriage.

But she
had
made her vows in the sight of God, Father MacLaren, Ian, and Lainie and Donall MacKay. There was no going back. No going back … no matter how desperately she now questioned what she had done.

Evan, bless his kind, patient soul, waited still, out there in the living area. He had told her to take all the time she needed to prepare herself. If he had realized, though, that Claire doubted now she’d ever be ready, he might not have been quite so generous with his offer.

Best to just call him in and have it done with, she thought. The marital union surely wasn’t half as bad as she was fearing. Indeed, she had heard some of the wives giggling about it from time to time at the village well. Despite their embarrassment at speaking of the marriage bed, they seemed to actually find pleasure in the act.