“I love you, that was a good way to begin again.” I yawned and truly believed I would fall asleep right there on him.
“Aye, twas verra nice tae hae ye ridin’ me again. I may finally be able tae sleep once more.”
“Me too, that was so necessary.” Isla shifted in her cradle. We quieted and watched her. She shifted again. I squiggled my foot over and nudged the railing, setting it rocking.
She quieted.
I slid off Magnus to cuddle against his side. I whispered, “So necessary. Did I work?” I added, “I mean, did I feel the same — was it all good?”
“Ye mean yer hidden garden?” He raised his head to look down at my face. “Twas. Twas exactly as I remembered it.”
“How did you remember it? Say something nice, so I won’t wonder if you don’t like me anymore now that I’m a mom.”
He chuckled. “I remember it as a soft sweet place. Tis bound in sin and exultation in equal measure, and is mysterious and shrouded, like an altar in the forest. I spend a great deal of each day desirin’ tae find m’way back tae it.”
I nestled in. “Sin and exultation? So religious of you.”
“Aye, tis our lot in life, coarse and barbaric, yet also rapturous — ye speak tae God during it, ye ken.”
“I do ken.” I added, “And so my um, parts were just how you remembered them, full of sin and rapture, but most importantly, I believe you used the word, and it’s what I’m really driving at — bound?”
“Aye, ye can add it tae yer list of miracles, ye are bound up nicely, just as I remembered ye.”
I kissed his chest closest to my lips. “I’m so glad.”
I twisted to see the wee’uns, they were still sleeping soundly.
I nestled back to his chest.
He said, “I hae been thinkin’ on somethin’ and I am wantin’ tae speak tae ye of it.”
“Oh...?” I leaned up to see his face, but I couldn’t make out his expression in the darkness. “Is it a bad thing?”
“Nae, but it might frighten ye.”
“It’s hard to believe I could be more frightened than I already am.” I clamped my eyes shut and tensed. “Okay, tell, me.”
“Ye ken there is a danger, and I daena ken what tis exactly. I am verra worried that I hae ye and the wee’uns here and I am worried that somethin’ will...”
I lifted my head, opening my eyes wide as I listened.
“...happen tae ye and it came tae me when I was in prayer yesterday that ye are nae in the record here at the church. If somethin’ happened tae ye, ye would nae be listed as m’wife... Isla would nae be listed as m’daughter...”
“Oh.”
“Chef Zach said there is a way tae look up our ancestors and tae see a written record of their history, but ye arna in the record. If we are lost I would hae a birth date and a death date and ye would hae nae record at all. Isla and Archie would nae be recorded. I canna get it from m’head that there would be nae record.”
“Oh,” I said again because I was confused what else to add. “Nothing is going to...”
“But what if, mo reul-iuil, what if...? It seems tae me that without a record tis as if ye are nae important. As if ye are nae m’wife. As if the bairn hae nae been carryin’ m’bloodline. I spoke tae Sean, he has sent a man tae bring the minister here by the morn.” He clutched my hand in his. “In the morn we will be married, tae put our names in the register, tae record it. We will list the children below our names. I ken they hae been christened, I ken God has witnessed it, but I want the record tae shew that we are a family, whatever comes.”
Tears rose in my eyes. “That is beautiful. You want tae marry me again?”
“I do. I ken we were married in the year of our lord 2017, but in the historical recordin’ of 1705 we arna wed and if somethin’ dire happens...”
“I never thought of it before.”
“I wouldna hae thought of it, but now I ken that I can see our ancestors, that the history of us trails behind. Once we are gone, if we haena put the story down, ye might be forgotten. Isla might be forgotten. Or Archie, he is the son of a king, but here he is just a young boy without a record that he lives and breathes within these castle walls.”
“You are really feeling this, huh?”
“I am, as soon as it came tae me, I haena been able tae stop thinking on it. There is an urgency tae it. I must record your lives.”
“We don’t need to hide?”
“Nae, those that want tae harm us ken we are here, there is nae hidin’ now. As soon as we awake we will do it.”
I breathed deeply, and tried not to think that this was a lot like the urgency of needing to write a will. Instead I tried to think of it as the romantic moment it was. “In contemporary times we call this a renewal of vows, it’s really a beautiful thing... and I... yes, I will marry you again.”
Twelve - Kaitlyn
It was still dark when Magnus rose. I was awake to see it because Isla wanted to nurse, and it was hard to fall back to sleep. “You up?”
“Aye, did I wake ye?”
“No, Isla is nursing.”
“If ye will dress, I will check tae make sure the chapel is ready.”
“Is anyone else going to be there?”
“Nae, only us, tis too confusin’ tae explain that we are tae be wed.”
I wrapped Isla snugly in the tartan, her weight evenly dispersed across my back. I pulled on my skirt, latched the belt, and then woke up Archie who had managed to sleep through my activity. “Hey bunny, ready to get up? Da is coming to take us downstairs.” He climbed up into my arms, his sweaty sleepy brow on my shoulder as his father returned to the room.
“Is everyone awake?”
“Yes,” I said.
Archie nodded.
Magnus pulled Archie into his arms. “Dost ye want tae go with us tae the chapel? We are goin’ tae be married.”
I beamed at him. “I kind of wondered if it was a dream.”
“Tis nae, I am goin’ tae marry ye in the Earl of Breadalbane’s private chapel, in the year 1705.” He grinned. “I hae been thinkin’ on it, twill mean that we hae been married for over six hundred years when ye count m’kingdom.”
“So long?” And then I thought to add a slight retelling of the Burns poem, “And I will come again, my love, though it were ten thousand years.”
“Och, tis verra short amount of time.” He held the door open for me.
“Ten thousand years? You think?”
“Aye, ye promised me forever. I think that would be longer.”
I laughed. “I suppose it would be.”
We went down to the very small family chapel. I had only been here when there had been family members to mourn, but my husband came here a great deal, whenever something was on his mind. The room was small, seats for about twenty, the altar was positioned at the end of the room, and beyond it the Earl’s pride and joy: the large stained glass window. The dawn light was streaming through. Incense wafted around the space, a lovely scent — Lizbeth had once told me it was Frankincense and Sweet Myrrh, her favorite, and now one of mine too. The chapel filled me with awe.