Chapter 6: Catriona

October 1818

Over the next week, Thomas and Mirabel enjoyed the hospitality of the Bryces. Robert and Harriet-Anne, of course, became embroiled in the wedding preparations, with their parents also heavily involved. This left them with Catriona Douglas as their only regular companion, and they visited Kilmarnock, but also Ayr. The widow was still wearing dark dresses and she reacted in mumbled monosyllables when people in the streets of Kilmarnock greeted her, but when she spoke to Thomas and Mirabel, she was less inhibited and even smiled shyly once in a while.

Mirabel also talked her into visiting Kilmarnock’s leading, if only, fashion store, there to place a rush order for a blue dress with white accents. It was meant as a surprise for Robert and a sign that she cared for her brother and his bride. A hatter was tasked to fashion a white hat for her, and Mirabel promised to help with the coiffure.

Thomas also signed his book for her and spent an hour and more discussing the subject matter of it. She invited the Reverend Mulholland to the manor, too, who was the leading voice of the anti-slavery coalition in Ayrshire, and who was excited over meeting such a prominent author

Saturday was then a last day of feverish activity, ironing shirts, ties and breeches, polishing buckled shoes and boots to a shine, and, for the ladies, washing their hair. The Greys had not brought along servants, but Mirabel eschewed adding more work for the Bryces’ house staff. Therefore, she, Catriona, and her older sister Heather, retreated together and handled the chores of washing and drying.

Heather and her family had arrived on Friday. Her husband, Mister Edmund Ogilvie, was a self-important man with a balding pate and wearing dandyish clothing, and he was clearly displeased over being superseded as the most important individual by a certified naval hero with three knightly titles. His wife, the Heather of Thomas’s first visit to Kilmarnock, ignored that and gave Thomas a friendly welcome hug. Mirabel was the next to be squeezed, and the three women quickly segregated into a corner of the large living room in lively talk, later joined by Teresa.

Meanwhile, Thomas, Robert and the laird were informed of all the great things Mister Ogilvie had achieved in recent months, and how the Crown feared him, and the justices all bowed to his superior legal knowledge. When Thomas admitted to serving as the justice of the peace for Guildford, he had to suffer an additional half hour of admonishments, for the justices of the peace were nothing but ignorant, biased jacks-in-office in Mister Ogilvie’s learned opinion.

Having spent twelve years in wardrooms of varying compositions, Thomas mastered the art of disconnecting his ears from his brain, and he let the chastisements pearl off his back without getting riled. Fortunately, the arrival of another guest gave Ogilvie a new target for his pontifications and diatribes, and Robert and Thomas made their escapes.

“What a nincompoop!” Robert expostulated once they were alone.

“One should pity your sister, but she seems impervious to his blathering,” Thomas observed.

Robert shrugged. “He wields a certain influence in Glasgow, and that gives her an elevated standing, too. Father says that she is the one who is invited to the important events, and he gets to tag along with her. He isn’t as patronising with her anyway. Heather has barbs and nettles on her tongue, so he holds back.”

“Should we pity him, in the end?” Thomas laughed.

“That, my dear Thomas, would be too much.”

Sunday started as a sunny October day, a little nippy, but with brightly lit autumn leaves on the trees surrounding the manor. Thomas was left to his own devices, since Mirabel and the other younger women needed to do their hair and then dress carefully.

After breaking his fast, Thomas joined Robert and his father as they hid from Ogilvie and started the proceedings by tasting the local whiskies in the estate office, the private sanctuary of the laird. Mister Bryce was not an admirer of his son-in-law, and he confessed to having the occasional, murderous thought on his mind, when in his company.

James Bryce also used the opportunity to thank Thomas for brightening Catriona’s mood over the previous week, which Thomas attributed to Mirabel. Robert concurred jokingly and pointed out that Thomas’s reputation as a personable and friendly man was only due to Mirabel’s influence. Thomas just nodded to that.

Their bantering helped to pass the time until the sound of the large pendulum clock in the living room alerted them to the need to ready themselves. Twenty minutes later, Thomas stood in the entrance hall in his Nº1 uniform, with the solid bullion epaulettes, in gold-buckled shoes, wearing the ribbons and stars of three knightly orders and his ceremonial 50-guineas sword. Robert and his father joined him moments later, the former in a captain’s coat, too, only without sashes and stars. The laird wore a fine civilian coat, with a sash in the family colours. Lady Kilmarnock showed next, and together they waited for the ladies, who appeared not long after. The laird beamed with joy seeing his youngest gaughter in a fetching blue and white dress, the Scots colours, her blonde hair open and cascading over her back. Robert swallowed.

“Cat, you look wonderful.”

“Thank you Robbie. Today’s a joyous occasion after all.”

Lady Kilmarnock also smiled happily. “Yes, it is, and for one more reason, too.”

Mirabel and Teresa smiled with a certain smugness, but nobody begrudged them their feeling of achievement.

“Now, where are the Ogilvies?” the laird asked with a touch of irritation.

“Heather is ready, she was with us,” Catriona said innocently.

“I imagine there was a fleck of dust on Edmund’s robes, and he needed to change,” Robert offered with a grin.

“I learnt from him how important appearance is in the legal professions,” Thomas added, making the women giggle softly.

“Well, I shall have the coaches drive up,” the laird said curtly, with no amusement at all in his voice.

Just then, they heard angry whispers coming from the stairs and a clearly ill-tempered Heather dragged her husband down the stairs.

“I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, Father,” she said with a little blush of anger.

“Well, we must be going. The coaches are ready,” James Bryce nodded. “Catriona, will you ride with the Greys and Robert?”

“Gladly,” his youngest answered drily, whilst Robert gave Thomas a mock salute.

“You have the rings, Thomas?”

“I’ll guard them with my life,” Thomas assured his friend.

The coach ride to Laigh Kirk was rather short. It was a rather modern building, as Catriona explained, built after the earlier, dilapidated church was torn down following a terrible panic in which over two dozen parishioners died, trampled to death in the narrow passages or fallen to death in their desperate attempts to jump from the upper windows. The new church certainly had room enough for Kilmarnock’s churchgoers.

After helping the three females from the coach, taking extra care to keep their skirts away from the wheels, Thomas and Mirabel entered the church where they found the pews well filled. Several guests in the front pews were wearing Highland kilts and sporrans, and some women wore the MacLeod tartan, too: Lady Kilmarnock’s kin. The laird introduced Thomas to his Highland in-laws, who, for the most part, greeted him seemingly politely, if unintelligibly, and Thomas harboured a suspicion that they were cursing him in their language. When he shared his thoughts with the women, Catriona objected, claiming a rudimentary knowledge of Gaelic Scots and assuring him of her kinsmen’s polite words.

He had to leave Mirabel and Teresa under Catriona’s care now, to join Robert near the altar. They were waiting for the Paddingtons, of course, but not for long. Soon, to the sounds of a bagpipe blown by one of the MacLeods, Harriet-Anne, on her father’s arm, entered the church and walked along the aisle until her father placed her hands in Robert’s. She was not wearing a veil, and her reddish hair, coiffed carefully, was a wonderful contrast to the light blue dress she was wearing. Mirabel, as the matron of honour, joined her side then, followed by the bridesmaid, Teresa. Once they were all gathered in front of the altar, the priest started the ceremony without much ado. He found sensible words of advice for the couple, prayed for a long and happy marriage, asked the questions to the congregation, the bride and the groom, and then pronounced them husband and wife, making the latter Lady Harriet-Anne Bryce of Kilmarnock.

Accompanied by the piercing sound of the bagpipe, the couple then walked along the aisle, followed by best man, matron and maid of honour, and the parents. Outside, they found the tenants of the Bryce lands and many citizens of Kilmarnock assembled, and the new couple received a thunderous cheer, making Harriet-Anne beam at them in happiness. Even Petunia Paddington seemed to be bursting with pride, finally over her disappointment over her daughter’s choices.

The weather being dry and even sunny, the bridal party walked the two miles out to Kilmarnock Manor, where a great wedding celebration had been prepared, attended by over 200 guests, high and low. The laird welcomed the guests and expressed his delight over the return of his son from his naval service and the lovely bride he had won. Mister Paddington was next, thanking for the friendly reception they had received and announcing his daughter’s dowry to much acclaim. Of course, Harriet-Anne would bring her late husband’s possessions into the marriage as well, and the not-quite young couple would be well enough endowed. Thomas and Mirabel smiled to each other, both thinking of their own wedding where no such monetary issues had come up.

Then Thomas had his few minutes of attention, since he had to toast bride and groom.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, people of Kilmarnock, and all of you well-wishers, it behooves me to toast the bride and the groom, this even more so, since I have known both of them from boyhood. Lady Harriet-Anne grew up as a neighbour in Surrey, with her mother being my own, late mother’s best friend. Naturally we saw each other whenever the Paddingtons visited, and sometimes during meetings in Guildford. To be quite honest, neither of us cared overly for the other, in spite of the well-meant efforts of our mothers. Yet, the mutual visits paid off for my friend Robert. He was a scholar and my class mate at the Royal Naval Academy in Portsmouth, and when the Academy let out over the Christmas holidays, I invited him to spend the days with my family, seeing how Portsmouth and Kilmarnock are not really close. He did, and on our first evening in my family’s house, Robert saw Harriet-Anne, who was visiting with her parents.

“I remember his first words upon seeing her: ’Ooch, she’s purty!’”

Laughter rose from the listeners, some due to his poor attempt at Scots.

“Who could dispute him?” Thomas asked suavely, wisely keeping his own response to himself. “When I, in my boyish ignorance, did that, he turned and told me not to speak ill of his future wife. That was almost sixteen years ago, but when I met Robert again this spring, for the first time since our days in the Academy, and invited him to visit Guildford and my home, the most compelling argument I used was my promise that he would see Harriet-Anne again. Many years and half of the globe between them had not quelled his admiration for her, and as a result, you, the people of Kilmarnock, can now find out why Lady Harriet-Anne has become my and my wife’s dear friend. She is bright, she is helpful, she is beautiful, and now, she’s my best friend’s wife. May they live their life together in harmony and joy, and for a very long time!”

The toast was drunk to loud acclaim, and a laughing Robert responded.

“Amazingly, Thomas remembers almost everything from that time. Yes, from the first time I espied her, my wife has been on my thoughts, and never was I able to forget her. So, my heartfelt thanks to Thomas and his family for bringing me together with the woman I was destined to marry!”

With that, his kissed his wife heartily, making her giggle, but she also cast warm looks at Thomas and Mirabel. With this important task for the best man out of the way, Thomas and Mirabel mingled with the other guests, most of whom had enough English to make themselves understood to them. Thomas was surprised to learn that his book had been well received, and that his name was known to many of the relatives and neighbours. Mirabel, too, received attention, due to the dedication Thomas had put in his foreword, in which he had praised her as his inspiration and steadfast supporter. She stood out a little amongst the fair-skinned Scotswomen, and she was asked about it, but her explanation that her mother had been born and raised in Barbados was met with utter indifference. This all the more since the Widow Douglas — Catriona — introduced her in the warmest way.

Catriona herself was also at the centre of curiosity, having spent the last years in almost complete seclusion. Few had expected to see her at the wedding at all, and those were surprised at her appearance and sociable conduct. After the first courses of the wedding dinner, her sister made it a point to join her, presumably also to distance herself from her overbearing husband, who by then had consumed more than enough drink to make a pompous ass of himself. However, most of the neighbours and kin knew and ignored him.