life for Silene, but mostly, because Silene had asked it of him.
Agnes had arrived a sennight after a letter had arrived from the prioress saying that the girl was leaving the priory. Galeren had penned an invitation to come to the stronghold. She had accepted.
Silene’s father had died last month. No one had told her. Her mother had been brought to the stronghold by the men. Their reunion was tearful and somewhat strained. It would take time for them to come to know each other. They had time.
They buried Will and forgave him. Galeren knew that when a man loved a woman it made him do mad things.
He reached Father Timothy and waited for the bride to appear.
Tonight, they would sleep in his room, where they had been sleeping for the last month.
They had tried making love, but he had suffered three broken ribs and moving under or atop her was too painful to enjoy. There were other ways to please her—and she, him. But tonight, he felt well and fit. Tonight, they would begin their lives together.
He heard the crowd of witnesses whispering and looked toward the entrance. Geva entered the church, followed by Adela, and then Elysande at the rear.
After her, Daffodil came traipsing down the aisle, meowing. She knew where to go and padded straight for Father Timothy, her new dearest.
Galeren held his breath at the sight of Silene coming in last. How could she think she was anything but ravishing and beautiful? Especially so in her purple gown altered to perfection to fit, though her belly hadn’t yet begun to swell with the growth of his babe.
Her hair had grown but was still short enough around her nape for him to kiss her neck every chance he got. What there was of her hair was pulled into an intricate knot at the back and loose locks around her temples.
She was bonnier to him than a thousand sunrises. Whatever life he’d had before, this was the one he wanted now. To be here—with her and everyone and everything he loved.
He would send men to Hethersgill and bring his grandparents, if his grandsire still lived, to Invergarry and mayhap one day, he would see Margaret and Alex again. He would ask their forgiveness for losing their father.
His smile grew into a wide grin when she reached him.
“My love, I’m happy I told ye to keep the dress.”
She lifted her fingers and giggled behind them. “I’m glad it pleases you, my beloved.”
Father Timothy cleared his throat to quiet them and opened the holy book. Daffodil clawed her way up the outside of his robes and fell into his pocket.
Galeren and Silene smiled at Daffodil and then at each other as if they were parents smiling over some sweet thing their child had just done.
Father Timothy began reading and Galeren watched her, noting how radiant she was and feeling weak at the sight of her.
He didn’t remember too much of the ceremony until it came time to kiss his wife. She tasted of honey and pumpkin. It made him hungry for more of her.
The celebration took place in the great hall with everyone in attendance. They ate and drank and sang songs. They told stories until late into the night.
They had received word from Dundonald that Father Alphonsus and eleven others were excommunicated from the church at the request of Bishop Graham, which gave them more cause to celebrate.
Galeren and Silene were the first to leave the celebration and locked themselves away in his room. Within a year, they would have their own cottage built next to Bors’ house.
For now, his room would have to do. It was huge but sparsely furnished, save for a few wooden bookcases, an ornate table and chair by the window. Other than a few small tables there wasn’t much else. His bed was, of course, huge with four posts and wood carvings on the foot and headboards.
He took her wrist after he bolted the door and pulled her into his arms. “My kin love ye.”
“I’m glad. I love them, too.” She coiled her arms around his neck and let him kiss her until they laughed.
Soon, their mirth turned back into kisses, and as they pulled at each other’s clothes, Galeren finally gave up all control, tore her chemise down the middle and carried her to bed.
The End
About the Author
Paula Quinn is a New York Times bestselling author and a sappy romantic moved by music, beautiful words, and the sight of a really nice pen. She lives in New York with her three beautiful children, six over-protective chihuahuas, and three adorable parrots. She loves to read romance and science fiction and has been writing since she was eleven. She’s a faithful believer in God and thanks Him daily for all the blessings in her life. She loves all things medieval, but it is her love for Scotland that pulls at her heartstrings.
To date, four of her books have garnered Starred reviews from Publishers Weekly. She has been nominated as Historical Storyteller of the Year by RT Book Reviews, and all the books in her MacGregor and Children of the Mist series have received Top Picks from RT Book Reviews. Her work has also been honored as Amazons Best of the Year in Romance, and in 2008 she won the Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence for Historical Romance.
Website:
pa0854.wixsite.com/paulaquinn