The Magic of Highland Dragons (25 page)

Faith wiped the streaming water from her eyes and blinked up at Berta. “He just assumes I will marry him? Without even asking? He didn’t even ask me!”
Of all the arrogant…

“He took yer innocence, lass. With witnesses, no less. Of course he will wed with ye. He’s an honorable man.”

“Oh.” How could she keep forgetting how different things were here than she was used to?

“Besides which, he was going to wed ye in any case. He had already asked yer father for yer hand, and McAlpin had given his permission.”

“I didn’t know that. My father never said anything to me. He must have asked that night after he caught Bren… well, it must have happened just before I was kidnapped.”

“Aye, that must be the way it happened.”

Berta lathered and then rinsed her hair, an amused smile lingering on her face. Then she helped her from the tub and into a large linen cloth to dry herself by the fire. Not long after, other women began arriving to prepare her for her wedding day. She could not believe it was actually her wedding day, and yet it seemed like the most natural thing in the world, to be marrying Bren. She had accepted it so easily, and almost without thought. She thought of her mother, wishing she could be here with her. Would she have approved? Would she have liked Bren as her son in law? Faith liked to believe she would have, but she now realized how very little she knew about the woman who was her mother. Perhaps she would be able to learn more from her father. Her father… God, her life was suddenly so much richer than it had ever been before.

Her wedding day. She had only known Bren for a couple of weeks, known about her own wedding for only an hour, yet she was feeling practically giddy with excitement and happiness. And tonight… tonight then, would be her wedding night. Tonight she would be able to touch his warrior’s body all that she wanted, and he would not have to reign in his passions. Tonight, for the first time, she would sleep in his arms. She would wake in his arms. And she would not fight what was between them ever again. She would trust in it and allow it to fill her and make her more than she ever had been, not less of herself as she had once feared.

The door opened again and Mathilde came in, beaming from ear to ear, and carrying a dress laid out across her arms. She kicked the door shut with her heel and brought the dress over to Faith.

“Put it on, I canna wait to see how it looks on ye!”

Faith dropped the towel onto the back of a chair and slipped into the soft cream colored gown. It had dozens of seed pearls stitched in a delicate pattern, and the cut of it fit her exactly. She turned and Mathilde laced the back of it for her.

“Oh Mathilde”, she breathed, “it’s beautiful! But where did it come from? Whose dress is it? I don’t want to take someone else’s best dress if they…”

“It’s yer dress”, Mathilde told her. “The laird had it made for ye for the wedding. It looks so bonny on ye, too!”

“But… he had it made for me before he even knew I would agree to wed him? What if I had refused?”

Fiona looked absolutely shocked at the idea of refusing the laird. “Ye would have to be mad to refuse him, he’s chief of the Mac Coinnachs!”

“Oh, yes, I’d almost forgotten”, Faith said dryly, but with a smile.

Berta stepped into the conversation. “Chief or Laird, he’s a man like any other, and he needs the love and strength of a woman to keep him whole. He kenned that Faith would wed with him, because he couldna see it any other way.” She picked up a brush and began working on Faith’s hair, nearly dry now. “He loves ye, lass”, she said softly. “Have nay doubt of that. I have kenned our laird since the day he was born, and I ken the look of a man who has found the woman that fills his heart.”

Bren paced nervously back and forth at the front of the hall. Would she come down? Would he even be a groom this day? He had sent Berta to tell her that he would make it right, as much as he could, that he would wed her immediately. After all, if she had not been taken by Mored, they in all likelihood would have been wed already.

Then he had sent the maid with the gown he had had made for her. He had sent the others to her because he was afraid to go himself. He was a coward, a bloody coward. A part of him was sure she must hate him for what he had done, and he couldn’t bear to see it in her eyes. But now he knew he should have found the courage to go to her and ask her to be his bride. Beg, if he had to. Force her, if it came to that, because he would never let her go. She belonged to him and him alone, and he would have her. But he wanted more than anything else for Faith to give herself to him, to accept him for who and what he was… and to love him. God, he had never before wanted so desperately to have someone’s love! But in his mind he saw again the blood smeared on her thighs, heard her cry of pain as he had so brutally taken her innocence from her, and his heart felt like it was breaking. How could she ever love him after what he had done to her? His thoughts continued to ramble in such a fashion as he waited.

After a while Bren paused in his pacing to turn and look at the small assemblage. A priest, not necessary by the laws of his people, but needed to make the marriage legal by the laws of Scotland. A few witnesses, including his brothers and Dirc, who wore a look of incredibly smug satisfaction, having given himself most of the credit for finally bringing this day to pass. Bren shot him a look of annoyance. He shouldn’t be looking smug just yet, when the bride had yet to agree to the wedding. Drust had his head bowed and was staring at his feet in a posture of great patience, and Eian kept glancing nervously at the stairs, as if he were just as unsure as Bren if the bride would show up to the wedding.

Most everyone else residing in the castle was busy preparing an impromptu wedding feast and celebration, which would include the entire village, by tradition. Perhaps he was rushing things a bit, perhaps he should have allowed a few days for her to recover, but he would not go one more day without Faith bound to him, legally and otherwise. But if she refused him now… no, he didn’t even want to think of it. He would make amends eventually, perhaps, but he needed her in his bed
tonight
. And he needed the reassurance that she would not walk away with the other half of his soul, and the best part of his heart. Aye, perhaps he should have begged… Hiding his roiling emotions with a fierce scowl, he resumed his pacing.

Bren spun around again, having reached the wall at one end of the hall. “Bloody hell, what’s taking so long?” He caught a censorious look from the priest, and offered the man an insolent frown in return. His brother Eian caught his arm as he went by and turned him towards the stairs. He stopped, and in the next moment his heart stopped as well. Faith was slowly coming down the steps, Berta at her heels like a mother hen. She was wearing the gown he had commissioned for her. The dress had been started that day that seemed so long ago now, though it was not long at all, when he had found her in the kitchens, learning the work of a common servant. The day he had ordered her to stop such work, because a part of him had already known she would be lady of the castle,
his
lady. When he saw that she had the Dragon Ring, he had had the best dress made into a wedding gown, knowing with an absolute certainty and with his whole heart that she was destined to become his wife.

She was beautiful, radiant, perfect, and against all odds… smiling at him. A warm and genuine smile, just for him. He smiled back, letting out the breath he had been holding, relief washing through him like a great and soothing wave. Everything was right.

Dirc took Faith’s arm, leading her towards the dais where Bren was waiting for her. They had only taken a few steps when the door burst open and there was a shout. Faith turned towards the doorway, and she saw Bren out of the corner of her eye as he drew his sword in readiness to fight.

“Wait!” someone called from the doorway. “Dinna start yet!”

She saw Bren smile and put away the sword, and then she saw her father bound up the steps and into the hall.

“I hope I am no’ too late to give away the bride, because I rode all night to get here!”

Faith laughed, more than a little happy to have her father here to see her wed. Though he was still a stranger to her now, she had a feeling that she was going to like this man whose blood flowed strongly in her veins. She held out her hand, and Loghan strode across the hall and took it, tucking it in the crook of his arm with obvious pride. As the piper began to play, he walked her to Bren’s side, and placed her hand in his.

“I give my only daughter, my only child into yer keeping. Be good to her, Mac Coinnach.” He leaned closer, kissing Faith lightly on the cheek. “Be happy, daughter.”

The ceremony was short and sweet. Deidre and Mathilde were wiping tears from their eyes the entire while. Faith knew she should have been more nervous, but really, after what she had been through in the past couple of days alone, never mind the last couple of weeks, her nerves seemed to have turned to hardened steel. An unexpected wedding, her own no less, now seemed a tranquil and ordinary event in comparison.

She looked up at Bren as she repeated her vows, and there was unmistakable joy in his eyes as he looked down at her. He had won, after all, the bloody arrogant man. But she didn’t mind. He belonged to her now, and he was exquisite. Not to mention honorable and kind, though she doubted he would take well to being known as kind. He was dressed in a ceremonial kilt and his hair was tied back, but a few stray waves escaped to frame the strong bones of his face. He stood tall and proud, laird to his people, chief to his clan, warrior and protector to all. Brutal and passionate, yet tender and kindhearted. More than deserving of all she felt towards him. He said his vows in a voice that was strong and sure, and then slid a ring onto her finger, a thin and delicate band of gold, binding her to him for all of time. When he leaned down to seal their union with a kiss, she rose up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his. He instinctively deepened the kiss, his arms coming up to pull her closer. Eventually the priest cleared his throat. Loudly.

After the ceremony, there was a mass in the castle’s chapel, and then the wedding feast. Faith and Bren sat together for the first time at the high table, surrounded by her father and Bren’s brothers, all in high spirits, and even Drust was heard to laugh once or twice. When the food was served, Bren fed her from his fingers, to the delight of the cheering crowd. And a crowd it was. Nearly the whole village was there, from the oldest to the youngest, and the hall was alive and roaring with the noise of it all. Most of the people there Faith had never met before, but she knew that before long, she would know them all by name, and some of them were bound to become her close friends. People called out toasts to the laird and his lady and the ale and wine flowed freely. Watching them all, she felt a fierce wave of happiness come over her. She had a family again, and a home. And a husband. All was finally right with her world. She had never realized how lonely she had been before, and how empty her existence, until she had all of this to compare it to.

The entertainment followed the meal, beginning with a clan storyteller, and then moving on to music by the clan’s best pipers and of course, dancing. Her father was honored with the first dance, and as he held her in his arms, Faith could almost imagine having been there before, only as a tiny child, feeling warm and safe and loved by both of her parents. Now she was a grown woman, and although the intervening years had not been easy, she was back now where she belonged. She still did not understand why her mother had not told her anything of her past, but she must have had her reasons. She would no doubt learn more as she grew closer to her father.

The next dances went to Eian and then Drust, as brothers to the laird. Drust danced with a grace and smoothness she would not have imagined, while Eian swung her joyfully around the floor with a wild abandon that personified the man. But as much fun as she was having, Faith couldn’t wait to be alone with Bren. In fact, her stomach was in knots over it. Not because she was frightened; she was, maybe just a little, but mostly because she was excited. She knew that this night would not be like last night in the circle.
God, was that only last night?
There would be less pain, Berta had assured her earlier, but even that didn’t matter. She just wanted to be that close to Bren again. Skin to skin. Beating heart to beating heart. And when she looked up at him, still seated at the dais and watching every move she made, she was rather certain his thoughts were on the same subject. She gave him a slow smile, and his eyes grew impossibly dark. When the song ended, it was finally time for the bride and groom to have their dance, and he went to her and took her in his arms. The music changed to a softer, more intimate melody, and they moved in a slow rhythm across the dance floor. Faith marveled at how gentle, how graceful he could be, and how her head fit just perfectly, tucked under his chin. But the longer they danced, the more the heat and tension built between them. His warm, masculine scent filled her senses, and the slight friction where their bodies met made her skin burn and tingle. Her body began to feel heavy, her knees a little weak, as if she would melt down onto the floor, pulling him along with her. On top of her… god, she wanted to feel his weight on top of her…

Bren must have been feeling much the same way, because he leaned over and spoke softly near her ear, a loose wave of his hair brushing her cheek, setting her skin on fire there too.

“Tell Berta ye are tired and wish to retire.”