Free Samantha James by Bride of a Wicked Scotsman Page B

outside the window. A faint wistfulness swelled within her.
    The Irish considered it lucky to be wakened by birds singing on the morning of the wedding. But she was afraid she would be forever damned in hell for her actions over the past few days.
    With a sigh, she pushed the coverlet aside and walked to the washbasin.
    A few minutes later there was a knock on the door. It was Pansy, wife of the innkeeper, Jack. He was a stoop-shouldered man of perhaps Murdoch’s age. From the day Maura and Murdocharrived, Pansy and Jack had treated them with warmth and generosity, seeing to their every need. It was almost as if they were friends, not guests.
    Maura reminded Pansy of her eldest daughter. She’d told her as much that first day. Maura recalled that now, as Pansy helped her into a silk, blue and white striped gown. She had purchased it on the way, for just this purpose—to serve as a wedding gown.
    Maura was tempted to wear the crimson gown she’d worn for courage two days earlier, almost in defiance of Alec. She had a strong feeling he would neither have liked it nor approved of it. He’d done nothing but show his disdain for her since his proposal—if one could call it that. She, on the other hand, had done her best to keep her distance from her impending husband. It was partially out of anger for his behavior that day—and partially out of fear. What if he should look her in the eye and realize what she had done? What she was about to do? If he discovered the truth, it would jeopardize her plan.
    No, whispered a voice in her mind, it would obliterate her plan!
    And she might never find the Circle.
    She hated to admit it, but she needed the duke too much.
    Pansy offered to curl and arrange her hair, but Maura declined, winding it into an almost severe knot on her crown and donning a cap. Pansy fussed because she had no veil, but Maura replied that there had been no time to shop for one.
    Besides, she didn’t particularly feel like a bride. Everything had happened so fast, her mind was still whirling. The procurement of the special license; the local parish priest had refused to marry them in light of that very haste.
    She had anticipated that. Indeed, she and Murdoch had planned for it. Oh, yes, she had counted on the priest’s refusal to marry them. And indeed, everything had played out exactly as she hoped—and Murdoch continued to perform his part amazingly well. When the priest refused to marry them, Murdoch advised both the baron and Alec that he would take upon himself the task of finding an officiant to preside over the marriage.
    A marriage that would take place in the baron’s beautiful gardens.
    Before the hour was out.
    When she was ready, Pansy held the door wide and Maura stepped through. But as she did, her gown caught on a splinter in the wooden floor, ripping a small tear in the hem.
    “Rats!” she muttered.
    Pansy, however, clasped her hands in delight.“Oh, no, Lady Maura, you should rejoice! Do ye not know it’s the best o’luck to tear yer wedding gown on yer wedding day?”
    Maura did know, which was precisely why she was so annoyed.
    “You and yer new husband will surely have much happiness together.”
    If luck would come her way, she thought, she and the duke would not be together for long at all. But for the sake of appearance, she turned and thanked Pansy.
    Murdoch waited for her downstairs. Her trunk was loaded onto the carriage, and off they went to Lord Preston’s home. The ceremony was set for eight-thirty in the morning. Alec had made clear his intent to leave for Scotland as early as possible after the ceremony was performed.
    The baron was waiting for them near the entrance to the garden, as well as Deacon O’Reilly, whom Murdoch had arranged to preside over the ceremony.
    “I thought the fountain would be a lovely place for a wedding.” The baron presented her with a bouquet of white and yellow roses.
    Touched, Maura gave him a quick hug. He and Pansy seemed the only ones