Happy Anniversary Mr and Mrs Magnus Campbell...
Hayley drove me to the church. In silence. Because there wasn’t much to say, and I was shaking in my boots. Or fancy white satin pumps to be exact.
When we pulled up in the parking lot of the church, I panicked. “What if they aren’t in there, what if this is all a—”
“They are in there because your dad’s car is here. So see, they’re in there.”
I tried to stretch the tight front of my bodice to get more air. “Can you go check for me? I can’t... What am I doing?”
“First, you’re taking a nice long swig of this.” She pulled a flask from her bag. “It’s medicinal. Next, you’re going to sit here while I go look inside.”
She left me alone in the car and went up the front steps of the church. I sipped from the flask. Whiskey, strong but necessary. She returned a few minutes later and pulled open the car door and leaned inside. “He’s here. Oh my god Katie, he is so freaking hot. Are you ready?”
“I am not ready. I am not at all.”
She grabbed my hand, pulled me out of the car, and stood in front of me adjusting a tendril of hair near my ear. “Back straight.”
“I don’t want to do it. I’m scared, Hayley. What if this is some huge mistake?”
“If this is a huge mistake, you divorce his ass and take everything he owns. But in the meantime, he’s standing at the altar waiting. By himself.”
“I don’t know if ‘divorce’ is the pep talk I need. I kind of feel like I’m going to throw up.”
“You aren’t going to throw up, you’re going to stand tall. Straighten that back.” She pushed my shoulders, and I stood straighter.
“Take a deep breath.” I drew in some much needed air.
“Who’s thought this all through?”
“Me.”
“Louder.”
“Me!”
“Yeah, you. Who’s gonna marry that hot Scotsman and tell Braden he can suck it?”
“Me!” I stretched my neck side to side.
“Who’s going to march into that church and come out rich as hell?”
“I’m not in it for the money, but me, I am.”
She went to my back and massaged my shoulders. “Who’s the bravest girl in the world?”
“I am.”
“Damn right you are. You’re going to take that Scotsman to bed and you’ll figure out where to put his sword later.”
“True that.”
“You might not know half of what he’s talking about but when he says ‘Aye’ you get all weak-kneed, so you’re going to march up those steps and right down that aisle and you’re going to say I do. Ready?”
“Ready.”
When I arrived at the altar, Magnus stood and my knees about gave out. He was so handsome, hard jawline, soft eyes, dark and mysterious. He was wearing a tuxedo on his top half with a darker more modern kilt on his bottom half. He wasn’t carrying his sword. He smiled briefly, nervously, and then we stood shoulder to shoulder in front of the priest.
The priest prayed and welcomed us. I was instructed to turn to Magnus, and we clasped hands while Lady Mairead slowly bound our wrists together with a silk rope before she returned to her seat.
Magnus bowed his head, so I bowed too and stared down at our hands. He held mine so tight and sure, but mine trembled. I worked to settle their flutter, concentrating on the form of his hands and the strength, the way he held mine, and the heat forming between our palms.
The priest began to speak. His words, the prayers, the solemnity and importance of their meaning filled me with calm and slowed my racing heart. Warmth spread through me.
I was marrying Magnus Campbell before God and family. I glanced up at his face. He was stoic, solemn, strong. Clasping my hands, he made me feel safe.
My arms grew tired but the ropes held us together, or was it his fingers woven around mine? The priest prayed over our hands. He asked if I would be true to Magnus, forsaking all others, as long as I lived? I answered, “I will.”
He asked Magnus if he would be true to me, forsaking all others, loving and comforting and caring and keeping, and Magnus said, his words rumbling through my head, “I will.”
Then the priest spoke longer about the importance of our decision and the binding union of our lives. He prayed and when he quoted scripture Magnus’s voice whispered along. And then the vows began.
Magnus repeated the priest, staring into my eyes, his hands shaking with mine. “In the name of God, I take ye, Kaitlyn Sheffield, tae be my wife, tae have and tae hold, from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, tae love and tae cherish, until we are parted by death. Tis my solemn vow.”
Then it was my turn. I repeated the words back to Magnus, a quiver in my voice, a catch in my throat. “To have and to hold, from this day forward...” I lifted my eyes to his and he smiled — my breath caught. I filled my lungs with the air between us. “...until we are parted by death. This is my solemn vow.”
The priest asked Magnus for the rings. We pulled our hands from the knotted rope, leaving it looped over Magnus’s sleeve, and he pulled two gold rings tied with a ribbon from his inside breast pocket. The priest blessed the rings while Magnus and I stood, six inches apart, no longer touching. I missed his hands.
A few moments later Magnus took my hand in his. He trembled as he said, “I give ye this ring as a symbol of my vow, and with all that I am and all that I have, I honor ye, in the name of God.” He slid the ring onto my ring finger.
The priest handed me a ring. And I repeated the same words and slid the ring onto Magnus’s finger.
This was the most I had ever touched him. We had been in close proximity on his horse, rubbing and jostling together. But here, holding his hands, was intimate and forever and intense.
The priest proclaimed that we were married. “What God has brought together, let no man tear asunder.”
Then we turned toward the altar, my right hand clasped in his left, and our heads bowed. The priest prayed and read scripture and prayed again. We said amen together at all the important points and rose or knelt when asked.
And then finally, it was over. We turned around to the mostly empty church. A few more words were spoken and my hand was clutched in Magnus’s as we walked down the aisle toward the doors of the church.
I was married. I was Kaitlyn Campbell, former YouTuber, believer in the big public life, a past lover of more than one boy, now the wife of a mysterious Scotsman named Magnus
.
Waiting for the first course I noticed Magnus tug at his bow tie. “Tis too tight.”
“Just unclip it.”
He fumbled with the back of it. “Daena have a clip.”
“Lean in.” He raised his chin. I pulled the ends, untied the bow, and left them dangling undone beside his buttons. Then, because I liked the proximity and the touches and the being the-person-who-touched-him-there, I unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, opened it off his neck, and stroked down the fabric, starched, cotton, expensive. It was the most intimate thing I had ever done with him — at the table in my wedding dress, untying his tie, unbuttoning one button of his shirt.
His eyes lingered on my face the whole time. By the time I sat down I was flushed. Bordering on hot.
“Would ye like tae go tae our chamber, Kaitlyn?” He asked quietly.
I shook my head.
“Why nae?”
“I’m scared.” His finger continued to travel back and forth along the lower edge of my bodice.
“Ye are scared of me?”
“No, it’s just, I think I’m scared of the moment, you know?”
He nodded. “Aye, I know. I feel it too.”
His fingers trailed up my side and across my shoulder and faintly, lightly, down my arm, giving me shivers.
“I think twill be all right,” he said quietly, seriously.
“How do you know?”
He smiled softly. “We canna stay here, there is cleaning that must be done and our bed is much more comfortable.”
I nodded and stood. He held my hand and led me to the bedroom, just off the main living area.
And the rest as they say, is history.
“May the best you have ever seen
Be the worst you will ever see.
May a mouse never leave your *girnal
With a teardrop in its eye.
May you always keep hale and hearty
Till you are old enough to die.
May you always be just as happy
As we wish you always to be.”
Sincerely yours,
Diana
Everything - so. Many. Feels.
I think I’m going to have to read them all again! ❤️