Julie Garwood - The Wedding

"You were mourning your family," he explained. "And I wanted to give you something to look forward to," he added. "And so I…"

"You what?" she demanded.

He had the audacity to grin while he admitted his sin to her. "I lied."

Her eyes widened in disbelief. "You lied to me?"

"You can't really believe I would let you go back to England."

"Don't you dare laugh at me. I did believe you. You shouldn't have lied. That was wrong." The sparkle in her eyes made a mockery of her attempt to make him feel guilty. "Have you lied about anything else?"

He shrugged. "Probably."

"You must stop it at once."

"I lied when I had Jamie tell you I was going to Euphemia. Actually, I guess I didn't lie. I did go to her, but only because she was with MacNare."

Her hand flew to her throat, so stunned was she by his casual remark. "You went to…"

"Later, sweetheart. Are you going to let me kiss you now?"

"No," she replied. "You're going to let me kiss you. Things are going to change. From this moment on, when you leave our home, you will have the good sense to tell me first. If I ever wake up again and find out you've left, I'll hunt you down, and God help you then."

"Ah, lass, you do love me, don't you?"

"You're going to wear your medallion too. I mean what I say."

"I can't wear it around my neck. It becomes a weapon then," he explained. "If you sew it into my plaid, I'll wear it. Will that satisfy you?"

His wife looked radiant. "I want you to change the doors inside our home. It's safe for you, but I have to go out the back way because I can't open them."

"All right, I'll change them."

"I want to ride the black."

"No."

She put her arms around his neck and leaned close to him. "Will you think about it?"

"No."

She was laughing when he finally helped her remember she was going to kiss him. His mouth took absolute possession, and for long minutes, he showed her how much he loved her. She was far more aggressive than he was, and it was only when he forced her to stop that she remembered where she was.

She wept against the side of his neck while he whispered tender, loving words to her, and when at last he insisted they go home, he had to wait until she finished crying before she gave him her agreement.

He draped his arm around her shoulders and led her back to the main path.

"Will we sleep outside tonight?"

"We won't sleep," he replied. "But if you want to stay outside tonight, we will."

"Yes. You look tired."

"So do you. Brenna, don't ever put me through this torment again. Promise me you won't leave me, no matter what happens."

"I promise you. Come and meet my sister. What in heaven's name is she doing? She's entirely too close to the end of the path. None of the MacAlisters would…"

"Quinlan would."

"What are you saying?"

"If she steps off the path, he's got her. That's what I'm saying."

"Make him stop staring at her."

"Your sister doesn't seem to mind. She's staring back. She keeps moving closer to him too."

"Faith, come over here," Brenna shouted.

Her sister ignored her. "Connor, make Quinlan and Crispin come here."

"I can ask, but neither one of them will come. As far as they're concerned, their duty has already been determined. They're protecting us, sweetheart. You should be proud of their restraint."

"Why should I be proud of them?"

"They want to kill the English, of course."

Dear heavens, she'd forgotten about Gillian. "You must come and meet my brother."

"No."

"If he comes to you, will you meet him then?"

He shrugged before he gave her his conditions. "If he's armed, I'll have to take him aside and discuss the insult with him."

She knew what that meant. "He won't be armed," she rushed out. "I'll go get him."

"No."

The force behind the denial told her she wasn't going to get him to change his mind. Father Sinclair came to her aid. A moment later, Gillian joined them at the center of the path. Like Connor, he was also unarmed.

Her husband didn't particularly want her to embrace her brother, but he didn't make an issue of it.

While she thanked Gillian for coming to get Faith, Father Sinclair went to fetch their sister. He got to her in the nick of time, he realized, when Quinlan winked at her. The priest grabbed her before she stepped off the path.

"You may say good-bye to the MacAlisters in a few minutes, Faith. Your sister would appreciate your help in gaining Gillian's cooperation."

"Is Brenna's husband cooperating?"

"No, no, of course not, but both Brenna and I know he will never cooperate with an Englishman. He hasn't killed him, though, and we must all appreciate the control he is showing for his wife's benefit."

Faith shook her head but quickened her step until she was running.

"I'm sorry I took so long, Gillian."

Her brother's response was to push her behind him. She took immediate exception and pushed him back. Then she ran to her sister and sat down on the wall next to her.

The two men continued to face each other as adversaries.

Brenna became impatient in no time at all. "Gillian, aren't you happy to see me?"

He finally stopped staring at Connor long enough to look at her. "Yes, of course I am. Are you coming home with me?"

"No. I'm going home with my husband. We are married, Gillian, and I assure you, I'm very happy. Tell Father I forgive him for sending me to MacNare."

"He didn't know what the bastard was capable of, Brenna. He also doesn't know you're married."

Faith explained before Brenna could ask any questions. "He thinks you're living in sin," she whispered so her sister's husband wouldn't overhear.

Father Sinclair stepped forward. "It was a proper ceremony, Gillian, with the church's blessing."

"Did you marry them?" Gillian asked.

"I did."

His blue eyes bore into the priest. It was obvious he was trying to decide if he should believe him or not.

"Gillian, please tell Mother I'm sorry she and Father weren't able to attend my wedding."

Her brother once again turned to her. "Were you married in a church?"

"We were married in one of God's most beautiful chapels. No expense was spared. There were flowers everywhere, and in every color imaginable. I entered the chapel under a canopy of green branches that were so fresh and new, dew still clung to them and sparkled like jewels against the flickering lights above. The scent of heather surrounded us while we pledged ourselves to one another. Both Connor and I were finely adorned in the most magnificent of robes, and when the ceremony was properly blessed, we attended our wedding feast."

Her eyes were misty with her recollection, and the joy her brother saw as she gave the details only a woman would remember convinced him that she had indeed been properly wed. It was also apparent that she was happy.

"The wedding was magical, wasn't it, Father?" The priest was overcome by her recitation. He dabbed at the corners of his eyes with the edge of his sleeve, nodded several times, and said, "Aye, lass, it was magical, and meant to be. Do you realize, Baron, that if it weren't for Laird MacAlister, your sister probably wouldn't be alive today."

"Yes, I realize it."

It was all he was willing to give. Brenna found his acknowledgment satisfying. Connor couldn't have cared less. His wife's memory of their wedding had overwhelmed him, and all he wanted to do was get her alone and tell her how proud he was of her.

"Brenna, it's time to go home."

"Yes, Connor."

She stood up, went to her brother, and kissed him on his cheek. "I love you, Gillian."

"I love you too, Brenna. Make him take care of you."

"He does take good care of me. He loves me, Gillian, and I love him."

"I can see you do."