His Lass Wears Tartan (22 page)

Rogue’s eyes widened.

“Rogue Baillie Bruce, will you marry me?” He held up a gold band with a petite cut diamond.

Dougal let out an ear-splitting scream, nearly causing Bruce to drop the ring.

“Be quiet, you old fool. He’s not asking you, he’s asking me.” She couldn’t stop the smile on her face. “Yes, yes, I’ll marry ya.”

He slipped the ring on her finger, and she kissed him long and hard.

Minutes later, they came up for air.

“I love this.” Rogue moved her hand in the soft light in the stables looking at the setting.

Bruce kissed her cheek. “It was my mam’s. I know they both would have loved you as much as I do.” He chuckled under his breath. “It’s a good thing I won’t be taking your last name in our betrothal, though, I couldn’t imagine going through life as Bruce Bruce.” Rogue exploded in laughter.

With a sigh, they leaned back together and watched the little wobbly horse tuck his long legs underneath himself for an afternoon nap.

“Can I ask another question?” Bruce whispered in her ear. “Well, it’s more of a favor, maybe.”

“Aren’t you just full of surprises today. What?”

“Let’s have a double wedding with your aunt Baillie. Sweetheart, I don’t want to wait, truly I don’t. I love ya so much, and look how easily someone or something could have keep us apart ...”

Rogue locked her lips onto his. “If you hadn’t said anything, then I was going to. Yes, I would love to marry you on the solstice.”

After another lengthy kiss, Rogue took his hand. “C’mon, I want to go break the news to everyone.”

• • •

The kitchen door crashed open with a loud bang, scaring the lot of them in its suddenness.

“Aunt Baillie?” Rogue yelled. Bruce stood next to her. “Dang, it seems dark in here after being out in the sun.”

“I’m right here. What is it, you two?”

Shrieking, she rushed to Baillie and threw her arms around her. “I’m engaged! Bruce and I want to get married with you and Uncle Kai. A double wedding—isn’t that wonderfully perfect? I have to get a dress and shoes. Do you think there will be enough flowers to make another bouquet?”

Bruce stood quietly in the middle of the room. He nearly folded in two with a surprised whoosh. “Uh, I think your uncle is pleased, if that slap on my back was any indication.”

Baillie laughed. “Yes, your Uncle Kai is very pleased, for both of you.” She kissed Rogue on the cheek.

“What is all the yelling about?” T-Cup shuffled into the kitchen wrapped in a silk robe. “I’m exhausted and need my beauty sleep. What is wrong with you people?”

“Ya have slept the day away, T, child. ’Tis midafternoon.” Putney moved from her chair. “Aye, it’s that nasty brew latte skinny whatever ya be needing. Perk ya right up.”

Rogue dashed across the room and swirled her friend in a circle, despite T-Cup’s adamant refusal. “Oh, you’re so crabby. Well, I have just the news to turn your old grumpiness around. I’m getting married.”

Rogue enjoyed the attitude switch flipped from dark to light inside T-Cup, and her eyes twinkled as she jumped up and down in her bright-pink-heeled slippers.

“Oh, my gawd. Oh, my gawd. This is fabulous.”

“It’s wedding day, wedding day.” T-Cup sashayed into the library, glittered and painted. “Rogue,” she called out, “I found them in here, sweetie.”

“I was right behind you, silly.” Rogue finished dancing her way in. “Enough with the gossip and whatever, you two. Stop monopolizing Sally all to yourself. We’re so excited you’re here.”

An entourage of Rafael, Gillian, and Lady Nell had followed Rogue, filling the room. The noise level increased as everyone found a seat, discussing bits and pieces of the wedding and Casie, Sally’s daughter, snuggled deeper into her chair, avoiding the adults.

T-Cup clapped her hands for the room’s attention. “Now, have you both chased away the grooms-to-be? It’s unlucky for them to see you before the wedding this evening.”

“Seriously? You’re waving superstitions in my face?” Baillie snorted. “I’m not telling the lord of this castle to ‘disappear’ for the day.” She made air quotes with her fingers.

The immediate screams of laughter brought Diva bounding into the room with a bark. “Now look, we’ve alerted the hounds.” Tears leaked out as the peals of merriment couldn’t be contained. A box of tissues was flung around the room like a volleyball.

Catching their breaths, soft chuckles still loose, the room quieted down. Undeterred, T turned to Rogue. “And what about your hottie?”

“Mine is at his apartment in town readying himself. Ya practically locked me in my room under guard the lot of ya. He no dared step foot on the castle grounds until his appointed hour.” She sniffed and blotted her nose. “Maybe we should hire you both as security for our next celebrity wedding.”

“Fabulous idea.” Rafael spoke up. “We’d be paparazzi pit bulls at your hire.”

• • •

Rogue stared into the eighteenth-century oval mirror. Ivory antique lace, draped in soft folds, outlined her glistening face. A few tendrils of auburn hair framed her flushed cheeks, as she gazed at the glowing reflection, and her makeup was flawless thanks to Rafael’s talent. She couldn’t believe the stunning transformation Rafael had performed. She looked stunning. Heart pounding, she caught Sally’s eyes as she turned away and faced the room.

Across from her, T-Cup had her aunt nestled in the same makeup chair, lit with bright bulbs surrounding the mirror, she had just vacated. Baillie’s hair from the back looked like a fairy garden of curls, white ribbon, and baby’s breath. She’d decided not to wear a veil, and Gillian had wholly concurred. Her beautiful face had thin spiral strands on either side of her cheeks with a feather of highlights throughout adding a warm glow to her hairstyle. Baillie could step on a movie stage from T’s expert talent and care. A tear beaded up in the corner of Rogue’s eye.

“Oh, no,” Rafael jumped from her corner, her gown rustling in her haste to grab tissues and makeup sponges, high heels clicking against the stone flooring as she dashed toward her bride-to-be. “Don’t start crying, you’ll ruin my gorgeous work.”

The sound of clicking made both brides-to-be turn to see their appointed photographer, young Casie, her brown hair combed into a ballerina bun on the top of her head, pointing her tablet in their direction.

“By the end of the ceremony, you may regret giving my little one this responsibility. Thank goodness they are digital photos, easily deleted.” Sally wrapped her arms around her daughter.

A burst of laughter filled the sunlit room as Gillian tapped on the door and stepped inside. “Truly a joyous occasion, I agree, but I could hear the cackling outside in the hall. Is everyone about ready?” Gillian stood tall and dramatically gorgeous in full kilt regalia. From a black velvet vest over the flounces of a white cotton shirt to the tight pleats of the Baillie clan plaid, the man oozed a regal confidence.

The group soaked in his appearance before breaking into a cappella oohs and catcalls enhancing Gillian’s inflated ego. He held his perfect posture a few seconds, giving Casie a chance to snap a dozen photos, then bent into a smooth, dramatic bow.

“Check out those bare legs.” Sally whistled. “Who knew he had such sexy calves?” She tapped a finger against the side of her face. “But who is going to believe that incredible tan? Is that an expensive spray, or did you move into a tanning booth somewhere in Seattle before arriving over here?”

“Meow, pfft, pfft,” Gillian hissed.

Baillie turned in her makeup chair, causing a groan from T-Cup. “Seriously? Can you two get along for at least one day?” Baillie twisted back toward the mirror. “Behave you two. I’m too nervous to referee between you today.”

Shutting out the erupted chatter around her, Rogue closed her eyes and drew a deep breath, exhaling in a slow, steady beat. Never could she have imagined this day even six months ago. Not that she was a card-carrying member of the men-haters club, but they didn’t seem to add anything to her life, her world. Fun to talk to, even acquaintances could be men; that was fine. But Bruce had unlocked a secret cabinet in her heart, and there was no denying the delicious thrill when he was beside her. A best friend and more.

A smile tugged at the corners of her lips; not only had her wedding day arrived, but wrapped in the priceless joy of sunshine on the Scottish moors. The castle grounds awash in brilliant light were a gift from the gods for this special day. Mother Nature’s gift to the brides-to-be.

Rogue smiled at everyone in the room as she walked carefully in her new heels over to her aunt. T carefully pulled the cover drape from around the woman’s neck. “Ta-da.”

Everyone stopped his or her conversation, and the girls yelled, “Huzzah!” Rogue burst into laughter as her aunt fluttered her fingers in front of her face. Baillie and Rogue stood together giving Casie her time with photos.

“Five minutes, everyone, check your watches, five minutes till show time.” Gillian dipped a quick bow and exited through the large wooden door.

Casie twirled her floor-length skirt back and forth. “I love my dress, Auntie Baillie. I feel like a princess from one of my fantasy books, and you two look like the gorgeous queens. You are the wise Mother Queen.” She pointed at Rogue. “And you are the real queen.”

Baillie crouched down and smiled at the twinkling eyes in front of her. “The wise queen, huh? Well, I accept your compliment, young maiden. I’ve missed you so much.”

Baillie smiled at the girl. “In a few minutes, I will join hands with someone I love very much.”

“I know who that is, Mr. Lord Something Something Something,” she bounced up and down on her toes, “the fourth. Mommy told me about him on the plane. And I won’t be able to see him, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t there. Just like Santa Claus, if you believe with all your heart, he’ll always be real.” Casie leaned closer and put her hand up to her mouth before whispering, “And I heard Mom talking. He’s much younger than you are, but I’m not supposed to say anything.”

This caused a ripple of laughter.

“You know, you are very smart.” She kissed Casie’s cheek before standing back up.

Sally faced the glitzy Rafael draped in velvet and lace, diamonds, and a tiara. “I haven’t had a chance to say thank you for what you and T-Cup have done for the brides by pulling this together. I know I’ve always thought of you both as Gillian’s girls, but you have my heart in gratitude taking such incredible care of them through the pre-wedding arrangements.”

Sliding elegantly from the lounge, Rafael stood at her full six-foot height, an aura of femininity and grace. Her smile dazzled. “You are most welcome, but what a hoot it has been. This young one was easy-peasy, but it’s not easy molding a menopausal Northwest mound of clay into a worthy statuette of royalty.” She snapped her fingers in the air making Casie giggle. “But the glow of love smooths over most flaws and wrinkles.” Rafael moved quickly to the side, missing the swipe of Baillie’s arm. “I had the easy part, as usual, making our horse woman into a bloom of exquisiteness.” She blew air kisses at Rogue.

Swirling her own lavender lace skirt in a casual pirouette, Sally sidled up to her daughter. They both giggled and pointed their toes, raising an arm holding each other’s hand before bending into a low curtsy. Baillie and Rogue clapped their hands together in a slow beat and watched a silly improvised minuet.

As the two curtsied again at the end of the dance, Rafael dabbed her perfect nose with a hand-embroidered lace hankie. “Now break up the love fest or my own makeup will start blotching with tears. This is a blessed day indeed.” Rafael shook the white lace in their direction with one hand and used the other to pat her wig, staring in the mirror, making sure each luscious blond strand of lazy curls was in place.

A sharp wrap sounded at the door followed with a loud bark from Robbie. “It’s time.” Sally opened the heavy wooden door and stared at the short, aged man in formal kilts. “Dinna make me stay suited up like this any longer than I must. Get yourselves down here. We be a’waiting.” He turned and started down the carved stone stairs.

“It’s time,” Casie squealed and chased after the old man.

“Child, Robbie does not need you pushing him down the stairs. Walk for heaven’s sake,” her mom yelled before slipping her arm inside of Baillie’s. “I guess it’s time.”

As Baillie stepped over the doorway, T-Cup bent and straightened the back of the gown. The folds of lace followed Baillie as she stepped carefully down the stairs. Rafael curtsied in front of Rogue before following the young woman to ensure her dress flowed smoothly down the stairs.

Gillian stood at the bottom of the stairs watching the parade of brides make their way carefully down. Rogue noted the flush of his cheeks and wondered if the glint in his eyes belied tears being held back. She owed much to the breathtaking hunk below. Explosions of gratitude, like the fireworks display over Disneyland, sent her over the moon when he accepted her nervous request to walk herself and her aunt down the aisle.

At the bottom of the gray stone stairs, Rogue smiled as Sally kissed her aunt’s cheek before stepping away. Putney pulled a lace hanky from the sleeve of her dress and blotted away the tracks of tears. Patting the bejeweled comb from T-Cup’s tender styling earlier, she handed Sally a delightful bouquet of lavender heather and greens with ribbons flowing from the tied stems. Casie was already holding an antique basket of white rose petals decorated with streamers of ribbon, the tablet tucked neatly inside. What a delight to have these two in the wedding party. Her wedding. She had trouble catching her breath as her aunt stepped off the last step where Putney engulfed her in a loving bear hug.

After some whispering Rogue couldn’t hear, Putney pushed a bouquet of white roses and heather into her hands and shushed her over to Gillian’s side.

“And you, my wee lassie,” Putney stared in awe at the sight before her, “are like my granddaughter I wished I had.”

“Do you like what ya see?” Rogue whispered. The woman’s love meant so much to her.

“Ya take my breath away, ya do. I canna believe I am alive seeing you in a wedding gown and soon to be Mrs. MacKenzie.” Tears dripped down the woman’s face as Rogue placed her hands in Putney’s.