As dawn approached, Bruce threw back the covers and climbed from his bed.

  His eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot from a sleepless night. It took a full pot of coffee before he felt human.

  Bruce’s only job was to arrive at the church on time. Everything else was arranged and taken care of. Elizabeth would be picked up in a white carriage and escorted to the church with Julie. Bruce figured the big wedding Julie had planned was because the first one she’d had was in front of the Justice of the Peace.

  Shrugging into his coat, he double-checked his appearance in the mirror. This was it. Today, no matter what got in his way, he was going to tell Elizabeth how he felt.

  ****

  Elizabeth dressed in her gown and sat to wait. The carriage would be here any moment. Her mother helped with her hair. It was to remain down around her shoulders in large bouncy curls pulled back on one side with a clip. When Elizabeth sat down, she noticed a small black box next to her. She’d almost forgotten the gift Bruce had given her.

  Holding the box deftly in her hands, Elizabeth opened it. Inside sat the most beautiful, intricately designed comb she’d ever seen. It was shaped like a butterfly. The light and dark orange colors glinted like a thousand diamonds in the light. Elizabeth’s mother helped position the comb in her hair right as the sound of a knock could be heard.

  When she opened the door, Austin stood outside. “Are we ready?”

  “Yes, we are.”

  Chapter Fifty-One

  The wedding was beautiful. Elizabeth stood at the front of the church across from Bruce as a stunning Julie walked down the aisle. Cole was entranced. Elizabeth thought Bruce was going to have to remind him to breathe.

  The service was flawless. When the words had all been spoken, the rings exchanged, and the announcement for the couple made, the entire church clapped. When the service ended, the crowd dispersed. Everyone was designated a vehicle and taken to a local country club to celebrate the union.

  Elizabeth was to ride with her parents. She wasn’t sure how Bruce was to get there. He looked so sad. Elizabeth wanted to thank him for his gift, but again, there was no time to speak.

  When Elizabeth and her parents arrived at the reception, the music was in full swing. Elizabeth was grasped around the waist by Cole. Onto the dance floor they went. “Well little lady, what did you think?”

  “I think you clean up real nice.”

  “Ah, that’s real sweet, darling. I think you look pretty good yourself.”

  “Thanks Cole. Where’s Bruce?”

  “Cut right to the chase, I see. He’s probably getting pictures with the wedding party. That was why I came to get you.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  Elizabeth was ushered to the area where the photographs were being taken. For the next hour, flash after flash blinded her. By the time the photographer was finished, Elizabeth couldn’t see her hand in front of her face.

  “We’re done,” Elizabeth heard someone announce.

  Elizabeth went to walk away and stumbled. Instantly Bruce was by her side.

  “Hey, there. You okay?”

  “Yes. Much better now. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” Bruce answered gruffly.

  “Bruce, are you okay? I can’t see a thing, and you sound kind of funny.”

  He laughed. “I’m fine. I would like to talk to you though. Do you think we could find somewhere private to do that?”

  “Oh, I hope so,” she said, causing Bruce to laugh more.

  Bruce found them a table at the edge of the yard away from prying eyes. Elizabeth arranged her fluffy skirts and sat down on one of the white wooden chairs.

  “You look beautiful today.”

  “Thank you,” she answered breathlessly.

  “I’ve been waiting to talk to you for so long. I can’t believe everything that has happened since the trial.”

  “Me, either. Oh, before I forget. Thank you for the comb. It’s beautiful.”

  “You’re welcome. When I saw it in the store window, I thought of you.”

  “Can I ask why?”

  “Sure. Do you remember when we first met?”

  “That depends. Do you mean when I became your secretary or that day when I was staring at you in the promenade?” Elizabeth felt the heat as her face flushed red.

  “In the promenade, of course. Do you remember the butterfly you were looking at? Even then I knew you were special. You were beautiful, but you were hiding yourself.”

  “Oh.”

  “That first day you were in my office, you were a new person. It reminded me of a caterpillar turning into a butterfly. It was as if you had emerged from your chrysalis.”

  Elizabeth touched the butterfly in her hair, gulping. “Bruce, was there something else you wanted to tell me?”

  “Yes, there is. Elizabeth I don’t know how to say this other than to just come out and do it. I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want you there for every part of it. I need you at work. I need you at home. I want to grow in my faith with you by my side. I guess, I want to know. Will you marry me?”

  Elizabeth didn’t hesitate. “Yes!”

  Epilogue

  “Boys, boys! Settle down. This is ridiculous. Why did Elizabeth insist on all of you being in the wedding. And every last one of you to boot.”

  “Mother, calm down. Everything will be fine,” said Thomas.

  “Yes, Mother. It’s my wedding.”

  “Oh, there you are, dear. The music is about to start. Of course, it’ll take you a full thirty minutes to get to the front of the church, with all the brothers and sister-in-laws and nieces and nephews going first. What were you thinking?”

  “I was thinking this was the only time I’ll ever marry, and I want my whole family with me. And that my mother would understand.”

  “Humph.”

  Contrary to Elizabeth mother’s worries, the wedding went off perfectly. All seven of Elizabeth’s brothers and their wives, plus Cole and Julie were in the wedding procession. Every niece and nephew on both sides had been given a place as well. Bruce had been worried the church would be empty, and then Elizabeth assured him if they didn’t have the family in the wedding, there wouldn’t be enough seating for the guests. And Elizabeth was correct. The church was packed from wall to wall with spectators.

  Elizabeth had spent months planning the wedding. No small task since the wedding was to be in Tennessee, and she was still living in New York. But everything was going as planned. The nieces and nephews had been given a mission long before, and if everything happened according to plan, a special event was in the works. There would be a grand finale.

  Elizabeth and Bruce said their vows and exited the church. She put her hand upon his arm and had him wait. “Look, Bruce. I have something to show you.”

  He smiled down at her. “I already have all I ever wish to look upon.”

  Elizabeth grinned and angled up to kiss him. “Please.”

  Bruce glanced up at the people lined up to send them off, and then did a double take as Elizabeth nodded.

  Each person held a small cage. At her nod, they opened their cages and a flutter of wings could be heard. Hundreds of black and orange painted lady butterflies took flight.

  Bruce and Elizabeth watched the miraculous display. For just like the caterpillar had grown and changed, so had Bruce’s faith and Elizabeth’s confidence. God had brought them together and made them one, allowing them to shed their old lives and begin a new one together.

  About the Author

  Felicia Rogers born and raised in the southern part of the United States is a Christian wife and mother. She is just your average, ordinary woman, with a side interest—writing.

  For eleven years, every waking moment of her life was consumed with changing diapers, wiping noses, and kissing scrapes. But now that her children have grown and she enjoys a modicum of freedom, in addition to taking care of hearth and home, she writes! She enjoys adding a flavor of realism and humor to her all too real romance stories. For what is love without a little laughter!

  Also by Felicia Rogers

  Prologue

  Wilt Hotham stood behind the chair, fingers drumming upon the wood. “Do you have news to report?”

  “I’m afraid so, my lord,” answered the messenger, eyes shifting.

  “What is this news?”

  “Remember, I am but the messenger.”

  “Of course, I understand. Now get on with it. Give me the news of my brother. Was he successful?”

  The messenger trembled as he answered, “Nay.”

  “Nay?” Wilt widened his eyes. Anger caused sweat to bead upon his brow. Hands clenched by his sides, he waited for more.

  “Nay, sir. Unsuccessful, I’m afraid. The mistress of Greenbriar wasn’t to his … liking.”

  Wilt flung his arms into the air, stomping his feet. His hands flipped the table, sending decanters full of whiskey against the wall. Amber-colored ink trailed downward, pooling silently on the white rug. Wilt’s eyes narrowed into tiny slits as he saw the servant shy away.

  Good. At least someone recognized his power.

  After the tirade passed, Wilt jerked his waistcoat down, placed thumbs against his ribcage and asked the servant to continue with the news.

  Straightening from a cowering position, the servant began again with a trembling voice. “Your brother returned home and, well, he…”

  “Aye? What happened? Let me guess. Spent the whole week in the bedroom weeping like a child! Our family is in ruins. Our wealth completely disappeared because of his ‘habits.’ Our one chance to rectify the situation and he finds the bride unsatisfactory.” Taking a deep breath to calm his wildly beating heart, Wilt stared at the servant. “You will travel to see my brother. You will tell him he must go back and marry the mistress, claim the land for his own, and sell it. I don’t care whether the woman is to his liking or not! I will not lose everything because my brother is unwilling to experience the least amount of discomfort!”

  The servant shuffled his feet.

  “Do stop your fidgeting, and do as I say!”

  “But, my lord—”

  “What is it now?”

  “I am afraid—”

  “Aye? What is it? Come out with it then?”

  “I’m afraid your brother is dead.”

  Chapter One

  England 1551

  Cedric knelt awaiting the announcement of the English king. Some would say this was an unusual position for a Scot, but others would take the opportunity to remind the uninformed that the man wasn’t truly a Scot. In his experience, educating those people on his heritage and explaining the situation did little good. It was best to stay focused on the here and now, like the shininess of the floor, not the sounds of a crowd snickering at his back. These wayward thoughts ended when the sound of the young King Edward’s voice boomed.

  “Cedric MacNeil of Scotland, it is an honor to have you in my court.”

  Cedric’s head raised a fraction. His eyes shifted, looking around and noticing how the King’s minions were nodding their heads in agreement.

  “You came to this court and offered your sword as a service to the English crown. In the beginning, it was our opinion perhaps you should be denied this privilege. But, after much thought and consideration the opportunity was extended to you. Not because of you, of course, but because of your mother, Elinor. Father was fond of her. She was a member of his court and held a prominent position in our English society.”

  Heads around the room nodded once again, as the King gleefully added, “I can also say, agreeing to send you to compete in the tourney on behalf of my crown has brought me much reward.”

  Here, the King paused and beckoned a man forward. He whispered unintelligible words, causing the servant to nod. The King continued his speech. “In order to reward you, as you have rewarded this court with your service, I wish to offer you not only the gold you’ve earned, but also a worthy piece of land.”

  At the word “land,” Cedric’s head popped up. The faces around the room were wide with peculiar smiles.

  The King motioned his secretary forward. In a businesslike fashion, the man spoke. The information concerned the location and the dimensions of the land. At the end, the king’s assistant added one more detail. “In order to secure the property as your own, there is one stipulation.”

  Cedric stared at the shiny floor, which reflected back to him his expressions of honest interest. With renewed focus, Cedric listened to the attendant’s continuing speech. “In order to acquire this piece of property permanently, you must marry the previous land owner’s daughter.”

  At the pronouncement, the whole court burst out in riotous laughter. In a flourish, the King dismissed everyone in the room, leaving in a flurry of robes himself. On bended knee, Cedric was left alone in the vast room wondering about his future. What could have been so amusing to the crowd?

  ****

  A month after his experiences in the King’s court,

  Cedric stood atop a rock-covered hill with the wind sweeping behind him, staring with longing at the castle nestled in the valley below. This was to be home? It was not the Scottish highlands with purple fields of heather, which he envisioned at night. But it was close enough.

  So close, in fact, nearby Scottish clans had been known to kidnap local village wenches, as well as plunder the sheep from the surrounding hillsides. This was no doubt one of the reasons the King had graced a Scot with a chance at claiming this particular parcel.

  Cedric surveyed all before him. The desire of his heart was coming to pass. Soon this would be home. Land to call his own. Land to grow crops. Land to raise sheep. Land to raise a family.

  After the King’s pronouncement, Cedric discovered he’d not been the first choice for Lord of Greenbriar. In truth, he’d not been the second or third choice either. From rumors passed in the King’s court, Cedric learned many individuals of noble quality and birth had been chosen as potential lords of this fair land.

  Many had traveled far and wide to claim their prize, but none had succeeded. It was said some had taken one look at the main hall falling in on itself, and spoken with the mistress of the keep, who would become his wife, and high-tailed it back to the city without elaborating on an excuse for their return. Others returned posthaste, refusing the land offered. Some came with legitimate reasons. They claimed the repairs needed required funds beyond their means. Others returned with peculiar reasons such as mythical maladies that denied them the ability to maintain this specific parcel and its inhabitants. Rumors abounded as to the “real” reason these nobles had departed the grounds. But no facts seemed to be had.

  Cedric assumed some of the English Lords who had come north to the border castle were no doubt terrified of the local Scots living nearby. As he investigated the rumors further, Cedric heard such tidbits of information like, “the castle was in complete disarray,” with mention of everything from sagging walls to crumbing village homes. He’d also heard spirits frequented the castle even in the daylight hours, and anyone who stayed longer than a fortnight was struck with a disease of the bowels. One of the most interesting rumors overheard was about the mistress of the keep. She was said to be an ugly, witchy character who wielded a tongue of fire.

  In his opinion, the nearby Scots would be easy enough to control once they learned of the new Lord’s lineage. As soon as Cedric took control, the rowdy neighboring Scots would step back. At least that was his theory. The castle walls and sagging village huts could easily be repaired with hard work and time. The ghosts were not a concern, since they didn’t exist. And he would prepare his own food or keep a close eye on what was to be consumed to keep his bowels in check. Which left only one concern—the mistress. A nagging wife was worse than constant dripping, or so he’d heard.

  Although Cedric worried about his future spouse, nothing would deter his goal. After his mother’s passing, Father only lived a short time. His father’s death had caused the MacNeil clan to erupt. They refused to have a half-breed and an Englishman rule. Rather than fight to hold only a tenuous grasp on his land, and perhaps destroy his own family from within, Cedric voluntarily handed control to his uncle and headed to court to serve the English King. This was his chance at redemption. There was no way he would give up an opportunity to have land; and no ugly, witchy woman would stand in the way.

  Scanning the road, Cedric thought he saw what he was looking for. Indeed, he had. Warmth filled his heart as Cedric approached the castle. Stopping in the nearby woods, he noticed the drawbridge was down. This allowed villagers to come and go freely.

  With just his sporran, claymore, and the sparse clothing in his sack, he felt exposed. The few gold pieces sewn into his kilt were the only other items carried. All else had been left behind. He preferred to live off the land. What else did one need?

  Cedric had not purchased a horse for the journey because there was no reason to hasten his arrival, nor did he wish to feed the beast. Besides, Cedric needed the extra time foot travel provided to consider a strategy for conquering this foe.

  Without knowing her name or what she looked like, how was Cedric to find the woman he sought? The King’s court said the mistress was young but old. Beautiful, yet wrinkled and witchy. No two descriptions ever matched.

  On the long walk from court to Greenbriar land, Cedric rolled many options about in his mind. Of course he’d considered the direct approach. Introduce himself as a suitor and attempt to gain the lady of Greenbriar’s favor in a forthright manner.

  The idea of taking the castle by force had also crossed Cedric’s mind. The act of doing this would make him no better off than if he’d stayed on MacNeil land.