Summer Of Love Part 18

"No, but you may model the things you got," he answered with a smile.

Dismayed by his lack of interest in the cost, she laughed embarra.s.sed. "Would you like me to?"

"Yes, I can hardly wait."

She removed her little russet jacket, and began slipping out of her petticoat. "Turn around. I don't want you to look at me like that."

"Do I have to? I love to see you."

"Only if you promise to stay where you are."

"Promised!"

She slipped her petticoat over her head, lifting her proud, full b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

"You promised, Andrew!" she exclaimed, when she saw the desire in his eyes. She put on the soft corselet and turned around: "Lace it up for me, please, but not too tightly."

He did it and took advantage of it to kiss her neck, murmuring: "You look gorgeous, my love."

She reached for the dark blue gown and opened the b.u.t.tons in front.

"But you can't wear this dress over my pants," he chuckled.

Disconcerted, she turned her back to him, removed them, and quickly slipped the dress over her head. Then she put on the pumps and straightened to face him again, slowly b.u.t.toning the front of the dress, looking at him provocatively. The dress made her seem taller, accentuating her bust.

He was stunned by the transformation. In front of him stood not the la.s.s in the shielings that he had known, but a fashionable society woman.

"You like it?"

"Oh, Helen, you look so beautiful, like a lady."

"Do I? Will you take me like this to Edinburgh?"

"In this gown, I'll take you to London to parade in front of the king."

"Mrs. Morgan said that the color suits me well... She's pregnant, so she doesn't think that she'll ever get into these dresses again... She asked me if we were married yet, and I said no." Helen paused, blushing deeply. When she continued, her voice was almost inaudible. "She said she would be willing to ask the minister of their church to marry us tomorrow morning, Andrew."

Andrew's heart leaped in his chest. "But you said you needed more time."

"I know I said that, but I'm confused. My mind tells me one thing, my heart another." She took three rapid steps and put her arms around his neck. "I love you, Andrew, more than anything. I want to be with you forever ... be your wife. Do you still want to marry me?"

"Oh, Helen, how can you even ask. It's my greatest wish."

Her lips searched his and he responded eagerly.

"Shall I tell her to arrange it?"

"Yes, Helen, please do."

Quickly she sauntered out of the room. His head was still spinning from the sudden turn of events. We'll get married! He could hardly believe it.

Helen returned soon and said that dinner was ready and that they were expected in the dining room on the ground floor.

"May I come like this, Andrew?"

"I would be very proud if you came like this."

She hooked her arm into his and they walked down to the dining room, her face radiant. The landlady greeted them with an approving smile and showed them to their table.

It was apparent that Helen was intrigued, almost embarra.s.sed to being served attentively. Initially, she struggled a bit with the cutlery, but copying Andrew, she quickly managed. The meal was simple, but tasty. They drank a bottle of light claret. Not being used to wine, Helen got giggly. By the end of their leisurely meal she could hardly keep her eyes open any longer. The strain of the long ride and the excitement, aided by the drink, was taking its toll. She tried to stifle her yawns. Andrew suggested that they go upstairs.

Once back in their room, he asked almost timidly: "Helen, may I sleep with you in the same bed?"

"Yes, Andrew, but I'm too tired and too sore to make love."

"That's fine. Just holding you close is more than I dared hoping a day ago."

She let him undress her like a child. He opened the b.u.t.tons of her dress and helped her out of it. Then he undid the laces of her corselet. Without even looking at him, she literally fell under the covers, turned to the wall, and within a few seconds was asleep. He put her clothing carefully over a chair, undressed himself, and lay at her back. He folded an arm protectively around her, cupping one of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. She snuggled up to him. For a long time, he experienced the full intensity of the softness of her skin, the subtle shifts of pressure on his body as she breathed, the euphoria of his happiness, being pleasantly aroused, until sleep transported him away too.

In his dreams he heard Helen's stifled cries and was suddenly wide awake. She was sitting up, trembling, and sobbing silently. He put an arm around her, rocking her gently back and forth, crooning her name. After a while her sobs subsided, and they lay down again.

"I love you," he whispered. She mumbled something in response without opening her mouth and snuggled up to him again.

Thursday morning, after a late, but hearty breakfast-Helen's first chocolate drink-Mrs. Morgan informed them that she had arranged with the minister for the wedding to take place at eleven in the morning, but that the minister wanted to talk to them half an hour earlier. She also told them that she and her husband would serve as witnesses. While Helen blushed, Andrew beamed.

When the landlady was out of hearing, Helen whispered: "You know, she told me yesterday that you seemed to be a very nice and considerate young man and that I would surely be happy with you."

"Is that the reason why you changed your mind about marrying me?"

"No, you silly. I knew that myself. What other man would find it all right when his wife tells him that she's too tired to make love?"

"Oh, such lame excuses won't count anymore once you've promised in front of the minister to obey me." He winked at her.

"Then I won't promise to obey you." It was now her turn to wink.

He laughed.

Their intention was to stop at the inn after the ceremony just long enough to change into riding gear and leave town right away. Helen wore her new blue gown. She had again borrowed Andrew's long white silk stockings and a pair of his underdrawers, which she found intriguing and practical. While in Italy, he had adopted the habit of wearing them. The bonnet completed her outfit. Andrew had put on his good spare clothing which the landlady had tidied up early in the morning.

While Helen packed the saddle bags and folded her new clothes into a cloth bag obtained from Mrs. Morgan, Andrew visited the local goldsmith and bought two gold wedding bands. When he came back, they finished packing, got the horses saddled, and settled the account with the innkeeper.

Shortly after ten, they walked up to the church, just two crooked streets away. The minister received them in his sanctuary off the little side-chapel where he conducted weddings and baptisms. He was an elderly man with a kind face. His relief was obvious when he heard that they were both over twenty-one. He instructed them about the responsibilities of marriage and the duties of bringing up their children as good Christians. After several attempts, he finally posed the question that had seemed to be on his mind all along, whether the bride was with child. He was somewhat disconcerted when Helen answered firmly "no", but then praised them for their abstinence, elaborating at length on the sin of intercourse prior to marriage. A sly smile fleetingly crossed her face.

The minister then explained the ceremony. By that time, it was close to eleven, and they all entered the side chapel. Two old women knelt in the second to the last row of seats, praying. They sat up, sticking their heads together and whispering, when the minister led Andrew and Helen to the front, where Mr. Morgan and his wife were already waiting. The latter smiled at them, while her husband looked somewhat embarra.s.sed.

Andrew beamed happily at his lovely bride, standing in front of the minister, with Mr. Morgan to Andrew's right and his wife to Helen's left. The two old women rose too. After a short preamble, announcing the intention of Andrew Matthew Campbell to join in holy matrimony with Helen Mary Campbell, the minister raised his voice and asked into the empty church: "If any Christian has reasons for this marriage not to be made, ye shall speak now or remain silent forever more."

Suddenly, the ominous sound of running footsteps reverberated loudly through the high Gothic vaults of the church's main nave, and Dougal MacGregor's booming voice echoed: "I do!"

Startled, Andrew and Helen shot around. Her father, Robert, Robin, her oldest brother, and a fourth man that looked familiar, although Andrew failed to place him right then, came trotting down the aisle, their hands on their pistols stuck in their belts.

For an instant, the seven people in the chapel stood like frozen statues. Then Andrew reacted. He grabbed Helen's hand, rushed into the minister's sanctuary, locked the door from inside, and wedged a chair tightly under the door handle. Helen was white as a sheet and trembling like a leaf.

"What are we going to do?" she moaned.

Andrew gave no answer. He studied the windows which were about six feet up. Then he moved the minister's desk under one of it, climbed on top, opened it, and peered out. It looked onto a narrow alley. The earthen pavement was about ten feet down. He swung himself onto the wide window ledge and straddled it. Bending down, he held out one hand for Helen. For a moment she looked at him without comprehension.

"Quick, Helen," he urged in a low voice.

By then somebody was trying to open the door. Finding it locked, he erupted into angry shouts, immediately joined by several others. They began to bang loudly on the door, and Dougal's demanding voice ordered Helen to open it. The minister's weak protests got drowned out. This triggered her into action. She climbed onto the desk, grasped Andrew's hand and pulled herself up to the window ledge. When she saw the high drop, she almost backed down again. Only his firm grip kept her up.

"Hold on, Helen. I'll go ahead."

He lowered himself, until he only hung on the window ledge by his hands, and let go, catching the fall with slightly bent knees. But even so he winced as a sharp pain shot through his thigh. Then he stood under the window: "Sit on the ledge and then push yourself off. I'll catch you."

She moved both legs over the ledge and looked down. Big, frightened eyes met his.

"No, I can't," she exclaimed.

"Jump, Helen. I will catch you. I promise."

The banging at the door got more insistent and the threats louder. She closed her eyes and jumped. He caught her, staggered backward, lost his balance, and slowly fell on his back, Helen on top of him.

"Can you run?" he asked, getting up quickly.

She nodded. He again took her hand, and they ran down the alley, Andrew limping, while Helen raised her skirts. Before entering the square in front of the church, he quickly checked if any of their pursuers were already coming out. Its door was still fully shut. So they ran past it and within a few seconds disappeared in the narrow streets, leading to the inn. A few minutes later, without taking time to change into riding gear, they galloped out of town on the road to Falkirk.

They kept to the road for about two miles, rapidly putting distance between them and the town. At a small forest near Bannock Burn, Andrew checked whether any other travelers were in sight. The road was empty in both directions. He entered the trees and headed straight into the eastern spurs of the Touch Hills south of the River Forth. They carefully steered away from any settlements, even if it meant making a detour. No word had been exchanged between them since they had left the inn. After about an hour, he slowed down and let Helen ride beside him.

"That was close," he said. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, but I think I've never been so frightened as when I jumped from that window."

"I know, Helen. You closed your eyes... I love you for your trust in me."

She smiled wearily. "Do you think we lost them?"

"Yes, at least temporarily. There were few people on the road and it will take them a while before they discover that we left it. That gives us two or three hours head start, and they'll have trouble deciding which way we went. Hopefully, they'll go on to Edinburgh, expecting to catch us there."

They rode again in silence.

"I was all set on getting married," she said suddenly, her tone of voice reflecting her resigned expression. "Maybe it's not to be... I just pray that father didn't harm Mr. Morgan and his wife. They were both so kind to us, especially Mrs. Morgan. I think she liked us. But with father, you can never tell what he might do when he's in a rage."

"Surely, he would restrain himself in church!" After a short pause he added: "Helen, we will find another minister. I'll not give up, if you're still willing."

She did not answer, just looked at him thoughtfully, and then asked: "Where are we going now?"

"I thought we would go to Glasgow, rather than stay on the road to Edinburgh where your father is bound to catch up with us since they can ride so much harder than we."

"But we're not on a road."

"Oh, I thought that initially we simply ride through the hills, keeping off any roads and away from people as much as possible. We still have enough food left from Mr. Nichols pouch. If they find us in these hills, it would be by mere coincidence-"

"I pray they don't."

"I must say, I'm surprised how quickly they were on our trail and caught up with us. They must have ridden through the whole night. But sooner or later they'll have to let their horses rest also."

"When my father sets his mind on something, he's very stubborn, and Robert must be seething for revenge." She paused, and then continued more softly: "His father and mother got killed in that Argyle ambush. That's when he came to our clachan... He frightens me. He has such a short temper. I don't know why I ever agreed to marry him. I'm so glad, Andrew, that you never lose your temper."

He smiled and then asked: "Didn't you love him at all?"

"No," she shrugged. "I was fond of him. When he's in a good mood, he is a likable fellow and he can be quite funny. Not as serious as you. Many la.s.ses were vying for him."

"Would you like me to be funnier?"

"No, Andrew. You misunderstand. I love you the way you are. Serious. Considerate," she chuckled when she said the last word, "as Mrs. Morgan said... And I can talk with you. Robert and I never talked much. Mind you, he's not the only young man like this. Talking for him means that the other person listens to what he has to say. And that's not much. I doubt he ever read a book. I don't even know if he can read."

"So what did he then talk about?"

"Oh, he would mainly brag about how he and his friends got drunk, or how he beat that other fellow in a fight, or played a bad trick on him."

"You never talked about your future together?"

"No, I don't think he ever gave it any thought except that he would finally be able to ravish me. That was foremost on his mind... In fact, our last fight was because I refused to go for a walk with him, so that he could fondle me."

"But I also like kissing and fondling you."

"Yes, I know, but with you it's different."

"Maybe you see it differently, because you love me."

"Maybe. But it is different... With you I never feel used, and when I tell you to stop, you do so immediately. He would never take a 'no' for an answer. It was a constant struggle to keep him off me."

Andrew gave her a mischievous smile. "I can't remember you ever telling me to stop."

"I did."

"When?"

"You're teasing me!"

"Yes, I am," he replied, winking at her. "You remember how we chased each other in the heath that summer?"

"Yes. And you remember the sumptuous feasts we had on the rock?" she said, her eyes becoming unfocussed, as if she were looking inside herself.

"-and how you let yourself be caught by me?"