Meredith lost no time in writing to her family to tell them about the upcoming nuptials.
“Nae sense in waiting, lass,” Ryder had shrugged when she’d asked him when he thought they might hold the ceremony. “Just tell me when ye need me, and I’ll be there.”
Meredith did not need to be told twice. As soon as the messenger had been dispatched, bearing the happy news, she summoned Ellen to her chamber and asked for the girl’s help in restoring Castle Millar to its former glory — or what she assumed it must have been at some point in the dim and distant past.
Ryder had simply shrugged once more when she’d asked him if the place had ever been “homely,” and while her intuition told her there was much he was not telling her, she already knew him well enough to understand that there was no point in trying to wheedle the information out of him. He would tell her when he was ready. Until then, she busied herself with preparing the castle for guests while consulting with cook on every detail of the wedding feast.
Within days, the once quiet and gloomy castle had become a hive of activity. Everywhere Ryder looked, teams of servants pulled open curtains, disturbing decades’ worth of dust as they allowed the cold autumn air to drift inside, airing out the rooms and breathing new life into the castle.
Meredith had also raided the storage boxes, he saw, feeling a lump rise in his throat as he recognized some of the tapestries that had once hung in his mother’s chamber, now decorating the walls of the Great Hall, where the wedding ceremony and feast would take place. Ma would’ve liked her, he thought, taking in the dramatic change Meredith had brought to the place. It’s just a shame she dinnae live long enough to meet her and to see the difference she’s made to the place — and to me, for that matter.
“Ye’ve worked wonders, lass,” he said gruffly, as Meredith took him by the hand and dragged him down to the Great Hall, the night before her family were due to arrive, to allow him to inspect her handiwork. “I barely recognize the place. And that’s a good thing, trust me. A very good thing.”
It was true. The rooms and walls may be the same as ever, but Meredith’s presence had had a restorative effect, not just on him but on the ancient castle, too. Ryder could not yet call it a “home” — the memories he carried still cut too deep for that — but as he raised his glass to his lips in a toast to his future wife’s hard work, he felt more content than he had in his life.
Now all that remained was for the guests to arrive — the one part of the whole arrangement that Ryder would gladly have skipped over.
“I just wish I could wake up tomorrow and be married to ye already,” he told Meredith that night, as they sat by the fire in her chamber, sharing a dram before bed.
“I wish I could think ye romantic for saying that,” Meredith sighed, resting her head on his shoulder. “But I know only too well that yer saying it, not because ye just cannae wait to be me husband, but because ye’d rather not have any extra folk in yer castle.”
“It’s not that I resent yer family being here,” he assured her quickly. She was sitting on his lap, in what had quickly become their usual position, her arm around his shoulder and his around her waist. “It’s just that I’m not used to families. Or not ones like yers, anyway. Yers are close. Mine were… different.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” she said, her face curious but her voice steady. She did not want to pry, so she simply dropped a quick kiss on his forehead. “Ye've already met me family,” she said reassuringly, “And I’ve already come to see the Murrays as me friends. That’s all we need. Just the people we love and trust the most to witness our marriage and help us celebrate it.”
Ryder glanced up at her. He was not at all as sure as she was that her family would take to him, and he did not want to point out that, aside from Meredith herself — and possibly the cook though she would never admit to it — there was no one in the wide world that Ryder could actually claim to love or to love him. Meredith was not the first to do so — he supposed his mother must have loved him, too, although she had been too timid and too afraid of his father to ever show much in the way of affection — but Meredith was now the only person in the world to do so, and that was more than enough for him.
Only a handful of his closest allies would attend the wedding. As for the rest, it was just too far to expect them to be able to travel at short notice — a fact that Ryder was secretly grateful for, as it meant a small wedding, and then they could go back to it just being the two of them, the way he liked it.
The villagers, he knew, would doubtless line the streets to cheer them on their way as they made the short walk from the church back to the castle. The wedding of the Laird was, after all, the most important event to take place in this part of the world for many years now, and they’d be curious to see the new Lady of Millar. But they would not all come back to the castle with them, so the number of guests he’d be forced to entertain would be kept to an absolute minimum.
“And the Laird of Moore?” Meredith asked cautiously, her lips still brushing his forehead. “Will ye be inviting him to the wedding? He is yer oldest friend, after all.”
“Aye,” Ryder said after a short pause. “Aye, I’ll invite Colby. He lives close enough to be able to attend, and it’ll maybe go some way to making up for the jealous way I spoke to him the last time we met.”
Meredith nodded, surprised that he brought the matter up, unprompted. They had not talked about Colby since the day of his visit. At the time, she had told herself that Ryder had simply been jealous to see her with another man, but she hadn’t expected him to admit to it quite so readily. How little I know of the man I’m going to marry, she thought again. Still, I suppose there will be plenty of time to find out, now that we’re about to be man and wife.
Sensing her confusion, Ryder pulled her towards him, kissing her softly on the lips.
“Now ye get yerself to bed, lass,” he said, stroking her face gently. “Yer family will be here tomorrow, so it’ll be a long day for ye.”
And for me, he thought, closing the door behind him and heading for his own chamber. One long day in a week of a long days. But then, once it’s over, they’ll be on their way back home, and Meredith and I will be alone at last.
Smiling at the thought, he entered his chamber and poured another dram of whisky from the bottle on the table.
Alone at last. He’d drink to that.