Highlander's Virgin Bride

Having found out from the servants what time the Laird usually dined in the evening, Meredith made sure to be waiting in the Great Hall for him, precisely on time. She was wearing her favorite dress — a dark red velvet, which showed off her rounded figure to its best advantage, and enhanced the rosiness of her cheeks. Melissa always said she looked her best in red, and, somehow, it was important that the Laird think so too.

I don’t know why I want to impress him, though, she thought ruefully, as she took the seat a servant boy held out for her. It’s nay like me to want to chase after a man who dinnae care for me. It’s just… it’s just I was so sure he did…

A polite cough from the doorway interrupted her thoughts.

“Beg pardon, Me Lady,” the manservant said, as he approached the table apologetically. “Me Lairdship will nay be able to dine with ye tonight. Would ye like me to bring out the first course?”

Meredith nodded, not wanting to turn around and let the man see the tears that had sprung up in her eyes. Abandoned again, she thought, taking up her spoon as a bowl of cook’s delicious broth was placed in front of her. First at breakfast, and now at dinner, too.

Well, it would be the last time this would happen, she decided. No matter how strong her feelings for him, she would not beg for his attention or sit lonely in his castle, like an unwelcome guest — even though she did appear to be exactly that.

“Could ye send someone over to the Murray household,” she asked the servant, placing her spoon back down on the table. “Ask them if they’d like to join me for dinner. And please take this back to the kitchen to keep it warm until they arrive. Tell Mrs. MacDonald I expect some visitors while yer there.”

The boy nodded and sped off, taking the food with him. Twenty minutes later, as Meredith warmed herself by the fire, she heard the door at the end of the room creak open, and Margaret Murray, accompanied by Angus and Marion, stepped through it.

“Why, Meredith, I wasnae expecting to see ye tonight,” Margaret said, apologizing for their lateness. “Matthew is out with Ryder at the moment, inspecting the estate, so I hope we three will do?”

“Of course, ye will,” Meredith told her, gesturing for her guests to take a seat at the dinner table and ringing the bell above the fireplace to let the kitchen know they were ready. “And I thank ye for the information on the whereabouts of me betrothed. He dinnae think to tell me where he was going, or when he planned to return.”

She had intended the words to be light, but as an awkward silence descended, she realized he was in danger of embarrassing her guests. “But no matter,” she said gaily, lifting her wine glass to her lips. “I’m sure we’ll all have a fine time without the menfolk. Apologies, Angus!”

Margaret smiled back at her as she took the glass Meredith offered her, but later, as they gathered by the fire after dinner, the older woman took the opportunity to draw close to her and place a kind hand on her arm.

“Are ye sure everything’s alright with ye and Ryder, Meredith?” she asked gently. “It’s just, it must be hard for ye, being so far away from home. Ye must miss yer family dreadfully.”

“Aye,” Meredith admitted, trying her best to suppress the tears that had sprung into her eyes at the woman's kindness. “Aye, me mother especially. I hope very much to be able to see them all soon.”

“Well, ye’ll see them at the wedding, surely?” said Marion cheerfully, coming to join them by the fire. “When is it, by the way?”

“Oh.” Meredith paused, unsure quite how to continue. “I’m not... I mean, we havenae…” She trailed off as Margaret shot a warning glance at her daughter, silently urging her to drop the matter.

“There’s plenty o’ time for that," Margaret said briskly. “Tell us more about yer family, Meredith. I’m looking forward to meeting them all, whenever that may be.”

Meredith smiled gratefully at her, and the conversation moved on. As she bid her guests farewell later that evening, however, Margaret took her quickly aside.

“Daenae stay angry with Ryder, Meredith,” she said softly. “That’s one of the best pieces of advice I was given when I was a lass, about to be wed. I’m sure he’ll come to see ye soon, and ye can work everything out.”

Meredith nodded dutifully and thanked the woman for her advice. It was hard not to feel aggrieved at his absence, though, and she wasn't sure how easy it would be for her to forget it, either.

If he wants to see me, he can come and find me, she thought, as she made her way back up the winding stairs to her chamber. And, when he does, I may or may not be willing to see him in return. We’ll just have to see.

With that, she closed the chamber door behind her, sank onto the bed, and immediately burst into tears. They were brave words — fighting talk, even — but the truth was, she didn’t want to fight with him. She wanted anything but that.

With a heavy sigh, Meredith leaned over and blew out her candle, leaving the room lit only by the fire in the grate and the moonlight coming in through the windows. She had never felt more alone.

* * *

The next morning, Meredith woke feeling a little brighter.

“It’s amazing what a good night’s sleep can do,” she told Ellen when the girl brought in her tray. “A good night’s sleep, and a beautiful morning to wake up to!”

It was true that the morning had dawned bright and clear, as autumn mornings often do before the season gives way to winter. From her bedchamber window, Meredith could see the tops of the trees on the nearby hillside, their leaves a riot of rich browns and reds.

“I think I might go for a ride this morning,” she mused as Ellen busied herself about the room, preparing her mistress’s clothes for the day. “First, though, I want to clean this room up a little, get it looking a bit more welcoming. If I’m to spend as much of me time here as Me Lairdship obviously expects, I may as well try to enjoy it. Will ye help me, Ellen?”

“Of course, Me Lady,” Ellen replied briskly. “There’s nothing a bit of hard work can’t fix. Me Mam always used to tell me that when I was a lass.”

“Yer Mam is a wise woman,” Meredith said, smiling at the girl’s enthusiasm. If only a bit of hard work would be able to fix whatever’s wrong with Ryder, she thought ruefully.

An hour later, she was standing in front of a dusty old trunk which Ellen had dragged from some forgotten part of the castle, opening it to reveal a heap of jewel-colored rugs and tapestries, their colors still bright as the two women pulled them out, exclaiming in delight as they draped them around the room.

“I wonder where these came from, and how they came to be forgotten in this trunk?” Meredith said thoughtfully as they stood back to admire their handiwork. “They’re too beautiful to be hidden away.”

“I think the chamber I found them in belonged to the Laird’s mother,” Ellen told her. “They must have been hers. She’s been gone many years now, though, so I suppose he just had them packed away.”

Meredith frowned thoughtfully. I know so little about him, she thought. His mother, his father… why, I don’t even know if he has any brothers or sisters, or —

“Ellen, what do ye know about the Laird?” she asked, turning to the maid, who was energetically beating the dust out of a tapestry she’d just pulled from the trunk. “Does he have any family in this part of the world?”

“Nay, Me Lady,” Ellen replied, panting slightly from her exertions. “The family are all long gone — and nae missed, either. Especially nae the old Laird, Me Lairdship’s faither.”

“Aye?” Meredith watched with interest as Ellen straightened her back and turned to her.

“There’s nae much I can tell ye, Me Lady,” she said to Meredith’s disappointment. “It was before me time. According to me Mam, though, he was a wicked man, the old Laird. Truly wicked. He’ll be burnin’ for all eternity, that man, if what folks say is true.”

“But what do they say?” It was not in Meredith’s nature to gossip, but she had to know more about the man she was to marry — if, indeed, she was actually going to marry him. She wanted to understand him or to at least try to, but if she hoped Ellen would be able to help her do that, she was to be disappointed.

“Like I say, Me Lady, it was before me time,” the maid said shrugging. “I know his daughter — so, the current Laird’s sister — ended up dead, and some say the father was responsible. But more than that, I couldnae tell ye. We didnae speak o’ such things in me family if we could help it.”

Meredith sat down on the bed, lost in thought. She had been angry with Ryder all day — furious, even — but the little Ellen had been able to tell her about his upbringing made her feel sad, instead. She did not know the whole story — she wasn’t even sure she wanted to know — but one thing was certain; he was a man who had known little kindness in his life, even, it seemed, as a young lad.

Perhaps it was unsurprising, then, that his actions were so confusing, one minute kissing her passionately, the next treating her as if she did not exist. If he had never been shown love, he would not know how to show it in return — that much was clear.

Well, maybe she was the right person to teach him, she decided, squaring her shoulders in determination. Because there was one more thing that was absolutely certain in Meredith’s mind, and that was that she would not give up on him — or, at least, not without a fight.