Sìleas laughed as the women sat her down on a stool before a wooden tub—a wedding present from Ilysa—pulled off her shoes and stockings, and stuck her feet into the cold water.
Sìleas had not grown up in the company of women. She had always felt awkward among them, particularly in the years when she didn’t fit in with either the unmarried lasses or the women with husbands. More than a few had made thoughtless remarks to her about Ian’s long absence. But today, she felt accepted for the first time—and she was enjoying herself.
Sìleas watched as her mother-in-law twisted off her wedding ring and tossed it into the tub.
“You have the happiest marriage I know, so your ring is sure to bring me the best of luck.” Sìleas took Beitris’s hand and smiled up at her. “I am blessed to have a mother-in-law who is like a mother to me.”
Beitris sniffed and wiped her nose as the women cheered.
Then all the women in want of husbands gathered around the tub. Sìleas shrieked as they took turns scrubbing her ticklish feet and searching the bottom of the tub for the ring. Though Ilysa was younger than she and a widow, Sìleas was surprised to see her standing in line to take a turn. Ilysa had never shown any interest in remarrying before.
Ilysa, however, never got her turn.
“I have it!” Dina shouted. The other women exchanged glances, for they were all quite aware of how Dina lost her last husband.
“Good luck to ye, Dina,” Sìleas said. “May ye be as happy as I am.”
The women finally deigned to notice Ian and the other men who, by tradition, were crowded around the doorway, joking with each other and trying to peek inside. Ian let the women drag him into the room and sit him down on a stool on the other side of the tub from Sìleas.
Ian’s gaze was warm on hers as he put his hand over his heart and mouthed,a chuisle mo chroí. There was a good deal of sighing from the women, but that didn’t stop them from covering his feet in ashes before putting them in the tub.
The feet washing and gift viewing were supposed to take place the eve before the wedding, but they had decided to do it all on the same day so Father Brian could be on his way.
Ian took her hands and helped her to her feet. As they stood together in the tub, he gave her a kiss that made her forget the others were watching—until she heard them shouting their approval.
“I think he could give my Donald a lesson or two,” one of the older women said, causing another round of laughter.
“Out with ye, Ian Aluinn,” another woman said, and Ian let a matron half his size push him out the door.
Before they could close it on him, he blew Sìleas a kiss. “I’ll be waiting for ye in the yard,a chroí.”
“You’re a lucky lass,” Dina said, as the women helped her out of the tub and dried her feet. From the way the other women’s eyes had followed Ian, Sìleas suspected Dina wasn’t the only woman in the room who would have been more than glad to change places with her.
Sìleas wondered where Beitris had gone when she saw her return from the corner of the room with a shimmering silk gown the color of bluebells.
“Ahh, it’s gorgeous,” Sìleas breathed, as she fingered the fine material. “When did ye have time to make it?”
Beitris’s smile was so broad she looked as if her face might split. “I started working on it the night Ian came home from France.”
Sìleas didn’t bother asking how her mother-in-law had known she would be needing it. She lifted her arms as two of the women pulled her gown over her head, leaving her in her chemise.
“Beitris, this one will give ye many grandchildren,” an old woman with pure white hair said, as she pinched Sìleas’s hip.
“She’ll have beautiful babes,” Beitris said, as she dropped the gown over Sìleas’s head.
The gown floated over her in a swirl of cool silk. It fit perfectly, clinging to every curve as if it had been stitched by faeries. Sìleas met Beitris’s eyes and knew they were both thinking of the awful red gown she had worn to her first wedding.
“Thank ye, Beitris,” she said, as they grinned at each other.
“Ach, such luck you’ll have!” the women exclaimed again and again, for a wedding gown that fit well was a sign of good luck.
The women slid thin stockings up her legs and combed her hair. As a last touch, Ilysa tied a sprig of white heather in her hair, another token of good fortune.
Then all the women cooed and sighed, telling her, as they did all brides, that she was the loveliest bride they’d ever seen. When she stepped out into the bailey yard and Ian looked at her, she felt as if it were true.
He was so handsome that the sight of him made her feel as if something had slammed against her chest. The crystal she had given him had been fashioned into a pin that held his plaid at the shoulder, and he wore a sprig of white heather in his cap like the one she wore one in her hair.
Duncan, Connor, and Alex were next to him, dressed in their best and looking fine. Being young and healthy, they were recovering quickly from their injuries, though their bruises still told the tale.