A Scottish Wedding (Lost in Scotland Book 2) Page 16

  It had to be sunny today of all days, when I had kind of been wishing for some rain, just for good luck.

  Oh well.

  “It’s showtime, Samhain,” my father said as the song I had chosen to walk down the aisle to started. It was my cue to get to the entrance of the church as my bridesmaids took their place by the altar.

  I was uncertain as I took my first step—despite the flats—and I gripped my father’s arm tighter. As we crossed the entrance of the church, everyone stood up, and the drumming of my heart became so loud, I could feel it all the way in my ears.

  In that moment, I could only focus on my breath, and on the fact that the man I love was only a few steps away.

  I looked ahead of me and spotted his silhouette by the altar.

  I still couldn’t see his face, but one thing gave me certainty: I couldn’t wait to see his smile again. It was the only thing that might be able to ground me.

  HUGH

  My eyes hadn’t left her since she’d appeared with her father at the entrance of the church. The nervousness I had initially felt was trading places with a different feeling.

  It was astonishment mixed with sheer happiness.

  I still couldn’t believe we were here and this was happening.

  I couldn’t believe she had made all this happen.

  She took a few more steps, and as she got closer, our eyes locked.

  I smiled at her as tears started pricking my eyes. I blinked them away, hoping I’d be able to keep my emotions under wrap. Good God, she looked beautiful. She was always beautiful in my eyes, but there was just something about seeing her all dressed in white.

  She looked ethereal, entirely too beautiful and perfect for this earth.

  As she got closer, she returned my smile, erasing any feeling of uneasiness.

  I suddenly remembered why we were here. There was absolutely no need to be nervous. We were here because she was my happiness.

  She was my present, my future, my entire world. I’d wanted to marry her long before the day I proposed to her, and even though she had given me quite the shock with this surprise wedding, I couldn’t wait for the priest to pronounce us husband and wife.

  As she got closer, I got to appreciate how stunning she looked. She was wearing a long veil that covered her face, but I could still see her beaming smile through it. Her dress was a soft shade of white, with off-the-shoulder long sleeves and a slight V-neck in the middle. The skirt of the dress was wide, but the top of it hugged her curves in all the right places and made her look like a goddess.

  My goddess.

  My Samhain.

  I swallowed, taking her beauty in as my heart started thundering inside my chest once again. I couldn’t remember my heart beating so fast and so hard ever before. It was as if I could feel it in every inch, every single cell of my body.

  I wanted to remember this moment for the rest of my life.

  The string quartet played a song that sounded eerily familiar, but I couldn’t place it right on the spot. Then, I noticed my fiancée mouthing the words of the song.

  I remembered it then.

  It was a song that talked about promises and spending the rest of our lives together.

  SAM

  Strangely enough, I couldn’t find someone who could sing the more classic “Ave Maria” at the wedding—organizing a wedding on a whim had taught me I had to be very flexible. In the end, I hired a string quartet to perform a few songs. I debated going for a more classic, religious piece, but ultimately, I choose otherwise. When I made the list of the songs I wanted the band to play, I came across U2’s “All I Want Is You.”

  It seemed such a perfect choice. The original arrangement relied heavily on strings and I just knew it would sound beautiful played by a string quartet, especially with the nice acoustics the church provided.

  Step after step, I knew I had to focus on one thing and one thing only.

  Him.

  The thought of him was the only thing that would make me not lose my grip.

  I mouthed the lyrics, eyes fixed on Hugh. I was trying to focus on the music, because as I entered the church, I was overcome once again by the enormity of this.

  Did I go about this all wrong? I must have lost my mind to think he’d be okay with this. Why did no one try to stop me from making such a terrible mess of things?

  I had been so sure of everything, but as I walked toward him, I was riddled with self-doubt—not about the wedding, but about the way I’d handled things.

  Hugh looked so tall and handsome in his Scottish wedding outfit, and it took my breath away. The expression on his face was serious and solemn. I exhaled, trying to steady myself, bracing for the worst.

  He hates my surprise.

  But just then, his serious gaze gave way to a face-splitting grin that illuminated his whole countenance. If he had looked handsome before with his stoic demeanor, it was nothing compared to how he looked when he was smiling at me. His eyes were brilliant sapphires, sparkling with joy.

  He was breathtaking. Simply breathtaking.

  If I had been on the verge of tears before because of my nerves, it was nothing compared to how I felt now that I’d gotten the reaction I was hoping for.

  I smiled back, lips trembling as the knot in my throat threatened to open the waterworks. It was all too much—the music, the place, the smell of the flowers, the expression in his eyes. My mouth went dry, and my heart went into overdrive.

  Oh, the way his eyes regarded me. The look on his face was one I didn’t remember ever having seen before. A mixture of love and pride, and a slight nervousness that made him look vulnerable and possibly even more handsome. The corners of his mouth curled up in the most delicious half-smile and my heart nestled in my throat, thumping merrily as I began feeling swept away by a cyclone of emotions.

  I knew I was getting carried away, and we hadn’t even begun yet.

  I was determined to make it tear-free until the end of the ceremony.

  I had to keep my head level—I didn’t want to be one of those weepy brides that can’t make it through their vows without sobbing.

  I had to be strong.

  Yes, you can relish this moment, but don’t get carried away.

  Besides, I had to be the steady one. I had thrown my groom such a curveball with this surprise wedding, it wouldn’t be fair if I turned out to be the emotional one.

  I had known this was coming.

  He, on the other hand, didn’t have a clue.

  By some kind of miracle, I was able to stop the internal madness right before I reached the point of no return.

  I noticed Hugh’s fists clench and tighten as if he were as impatient as I was to reach the altar and take my place next to him.

  My love stood tall next to his four handsome brothers, his kilt bearing the colors of his clan, the dark blue jacket highlighting his wide shoulders and impressive physique.

  Hugh’s hair was slightly messy and unruly, just how I liked it. I was happy the styling team hadn’t messed with it during the fake photo shoot.

  As I took a few more steps, his lips parted, eyes beaming with wonder. I watched him watch me as I approached the altar and stole a quick glance when my father lifted the veil. My dad kissed me on the cheek and when he pulled back, my self-control wavered at the sight of his eyes brimming with tears.

  “I love you, Daddy.” My voice was low and raspy, heavy with emotion.

  “I love you too, sweetheart.” He squeezed the hand that had been holding his arm, and after exchanging a quick hug with my groom, my father placed the same hand in the clasp of my soon-to-be-husband. I looked up at my groom just as a small smile stretched on his beautiful face, his bright blue eyes betraying emotions similar to my own.

  “How is this for soon?” I managed to ask as he leaned in to kiss the hand he was holding.

  SAM

  “Sam.” His voice was low and gravelly, his eyes as bright as burning stars. His lips touched my skin, and a shiver ran down my ar
m. He locked his gaze with mine, and the way he regarded me made me . . . thirsty.

  “Sam, it’s . . . perfect. You look stunning. You’ll have to forgive me, but I am momentarily dazed.”

  I let out a laugh, surprised by his formal tone, and that helped ease the tension in my stomach.

  “You look very handsome yourself.”

  “Thank you,” he replied with a slight nod of his head. He held my hand in his, standing next to me, his eyes taking in every detail of my appearance as we waited for the string quartet to finish playing. The priest, Father Adams, was right behind the altar with a solemn, unreadable expression on his face. Hugh glanced at my veil, looked at my face, and scanned down to the deep V of my dress. He met my eyes again and winked.

  “You didn’t just do that, did you?” I teased, leaning toward him.

  “Samhain, I’m having a very hard time not having impure thoughts right now, and you’re not helping.”

  I scoffed in disbelief.

  “Why don’t you tell me how ye could pull this off, instead?” His eyes narrowed on me, eyebrows pulled together, just as the priest asked everyone to take a seat as we were about to start. I pursed my lips together, trying to contain my excitement, and I gave him a nonchalant shrug.

  “You’re not the only one capable of grand gestures, Hugh MacLeod.”

  The smile that stretched across his face made my breath hitch, and the look he gave me was one I wanted to see for the rest of my life. He was beaming with happiness and pride, and I couldn’t wait to make him as happy as he made me. I couldn’t wait to make him happy for the rest of my days, till death do us part.

  “Samhain,” he whispered, looking into my eyes, his mouth less than an inch from my face, “I can’t wait for the priest to declare us husband and wife.”

  I smiled playfully, blood rising to my cheeks, unable to resist his relentless flirting. Just then Father Adams cleared his throat, and when we looked his way, he raised his eyebrows at us, silently asking us to behave with that certain look ordained ministers seem to master so well.

  “Since this is a rather unusual wedding, I want to make sure both parties are willing to enter into the covenant of Holy Matrimony. I especially want to make sure the groom is in agreement, since this wedding ceremony was a surprise sprung on him by his bride-to-be.” Father Adams smiled, making his words a tad bit sweeter.

  Everyone laughed, including Hugh.

  “Hugh, are you here to take this woman in Holy Matrimony?”

  “I am,” my groom replied with a dashing smile, and butterflies swarmed around in my stomach. He smiled sweetly, lifting my hand so he could kiss it again. Warmth rushed through my chest, all the way up to my cheeks.

  I, the blushing bride, couldn’t stop smiling.

  Ever since that day in Edinburgh when we couldn’t get our marriage license, I had been waiting for a way to surprise the man I loved. I wanted to show him just how much his dreams mirrored mine.

  “Let’s get started,” Father Adams said, bringing me out of my daydream. “I know not everyone here today is familiar with the Catholic rite of marriage, so I will try to keep it as simple as possible.” He then started the ceremony with a prayer.

  Next Hugh’s Aunt Flora read the first reading, his brother Ewan read the Psalm, and his mother Fiona read the second reading. She cast a loving look upon the two of us before taking her place at the small pulpit of the church. Hugh and I joined hands, and I heard his sharp intake of breath as his mother took the podium. For someone like me, everything about this was foreign, and there was something mystical and fascinating in all the little details of the ceremony.

  As she read from a letter of Saint Paul to the Romans, she often looked toward us. “Welcome one another as Christ welcomed you,” she recited.

  Hugh started fidgeting with my hand, which I found adorable.

  Emotions were flying high all around us.

  Fiona’s voice was tense and full of emotion as she read the passage, but she tried to slow herself to keep her voice steady. She managed well, only wavering toward the end, drying the corners of her eyes when she was done.

  She and her son exchanged a smile, and then her eyes were on me, nodding in approval. Fiona had been such a great help planning this wedding; I couldn’t have done it without her.

  After the second reading, we had the gospel, and then Father Adam’s homily, which focused on the importance and the sacredness of marriage, on how no one should enter this sacrament without being completely sure of their commitment.

  Father Adams looked at Hugh again, as if wanting to give him another way out, which made me want to roll my eyes. As much as I appreciated the priest’s cooperation, his diffidence was rather upsetting. I wasn’t trying to nail the man to a cross, after all. I simply wanted to start our life as a married couple sooner rather than later.

  Then, it was finally time to exchange vows.

  As much as I’d tried to tell myself to stay calm, my heart had been hammering incessantly in my chest, the sound of it so powerful, it nearly overpowered the priest’s voice. My right hand was still connected to Hugh’s left—he hadn’t let go of it since the ceremony had started. He looked so handsome in his attire, and every time he looked at me and smiled, his eyes crinkled at the corners in that way that was so familiar. The corners of his lips curled up and my stomach did a little somersault.

  I couldn’t wait to be able to kiss him properly without causing a scandal.

  By the time Father Adams started with the vows, my brain could only perceive bits and pieces. I had remained steady for as long as I could, but now I could feel myself crumbling.

  “Since it is your intention to enter into the covenant of Holy Matrimony, join your right hands and declare your consent before God and his Church,” Father Adams said.

  He paused, and then he looked to my groom. “Hugh, repeat after me.”

  Hugh nodded, and then the priest started reciting the vows.

  “I, Hugh MacLeod, take you, Samhain Farouk, to be my wife. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love and honor you for all the days of my life.”

  I held my breath as he said the words. There was a severity in his expression, and the tone of his voice was as stoic as I’d often heard it on set. His eyes burned with the same fire I had seen many times before. There was also a certain sweetness in them as he promised to love me and honor me for the rest of his life.

  The way he looked at me, the way he sounded as he recited the vows made me waver. I felt tears pool in the corners of my eyes just as Father Adams was calling my name.

  I swallowed past the knot in my throat, took a deep breath, and smiled. I tried to make it through my vows slowly, without rushing the words, hoping I could make them sound as beautiful and solemn as he had.

  “I, Samhain Farouk, take you, Hugh MacLeod, to be my husband. I promise to be faithful to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love and honor you for all the days of my life.”

  “May I have the rings, please?”

  Rory, guided by Declan, came forth. He handed Father Adams the pillow with the rings, and the priest blessed them with holy water. Father Adams instructed Hugh as to what to say, and he repeated the words right after.

  “Sam, take this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity, in the name of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” His voice wavered, and when I looked into his eyes, I noticed he was trying to rein in his emotions just as I had moments before. He gave me a half-smile, and I responded with the same mix of excitement and nervousness.

  He slipped the simple gold band on my finger, and then it was my turn to say the words.

  “Hugh, take this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity, in the name of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”

  “Lord, bless and consecrate this groom and bride in their love for each other. May these rings be a symbol of their true faith in each other, and always remind them of their
love through Christ our Lord. By the powers vested in me by God, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

  Father Adams hadn’t even finished declaring us Mr. and Mrs. before Hugh’s lips were on mine, taking me a little by surprise. In the midst of everyone cheering and clapping, his hands wrapped around my waist, bringing me closer to him. My hands cradled his face as his kiss transformed into something deeper, more suited for a movie set than a church ceremony. Father Adams cleared his throat and tapped him on the shoulder when Hugh didn’t budge.

  “Aye, son. That’s enough. Remember you’re in the house of Jesus Christ.”

  Hugh pulled back, giving the priest a quick nod.

  “Sorry, Father,” he said in a raspy tone.

  He straightened himself up and rewarded me with a wicked gleam and that impenitent grin I loved so much.

  It was my turn to hold back.

  I very much wanted to kiss him again, but the ceremony was far from over.

  There was the communion consecration, the prayer, the communion itself, and the post-communion hymn and prayer.

  All that meant that besides holding hands and staring at each other impatiently, there was not much else we could do. For the rest of the ceremony, Hugh tried his best to conceal his restlessness, but I knew him well enough to understand that he was having a hard time containing himself, just as I was. He suddenly had restless leg syndrome and kept fidgeting in his seat.

  Toward the end of the ceremony, after the communion rite was over, he leaned toward me.

  “Samhain, did I tell you how beautiful you look?”

  I nodded, trying to contain a laugh.

  “You did.”

  “I’m having the hardest time rejecting impure thoughts right now, ye ken.”

  “Shhh, I don’t want Father Adams to reprimand us again.”

  My eyes scanned his handsome face, his tartan-clad figure, and then fell to his bare knees. He cleared his throat, urging me to bring my eyes back to his. He gave me a long look, eyebrows raised, as if he were trying to communicate something without words. He gave me another panty-melting grin and I blushed, wondering if this time he was being traditional about the kilt.