“Mayhap the priest is nearby.” Lachlann’s eyes were bright with excitement and matched the quickening of her heart.
“Or he is at the meal,” she said and hoped he didn’t hear the disappointment in her voice.
“There.” Lachlann pointed at a small man whose head was barely visible above the altar, his face cast down as he worked. “I believe ‘tis him.”
The priest spared them the briefest glance. “Ye’ve missed Mass. Come back tomorrow.”
She halted in her steps, but Lachlann pulled her closer and replied, “We’ve been a long time without a blessing.”
The priest ceased his busy preparations of cleaning, wiping, and tidying to study them. “Who would that be? Ye?” He pointed one long finger at Lachlann, then at her. “Or ye?”
The priest held her gaze, and she was overcome by a sense of coming home. “It is I who have been separated, though not of my own choosing.”
He nodded as if understanding, but how could he really? “Then let us see to ye.”
Guiding them to a bench, the priest sat beside Ethne while Lachlann took the seat on her other side.
“Ye seem familiar, lass. Might I know yer family?”
She ducked her head. Priests must say that to everyone. This man could not know her.
“Ye have a brother Malcolm?” he asked.
Their eyes met and her lips parted. He did seem slightly familiar, but with his simple white tunic and long, dark overcoat, there was little chance she’d recognize one monk from another—
“Are ye Ethne? Little Ethne?”
He recognized her. She closed her eyes and took a slow, steady breath. Opening her eyes, she smiled at him and nodded. “I am.”
Covering her hands where they rested on her lap, the priest smiled. “’Tis good to have ye back in the fold. And who is this man with ye?”
“This is my—”
“Protector,” Lachlann answered for her.
She turned to correct him. “No. Ye are no mere protector.”
“Then what is it he means to ye?” the priest asked with his solemn expression and solid gaze. “Should I be readying some parchment for the contract?”
Her breath caught, and she considered Lachlann for a very long time, or so it seemed.
“I am in love with him.” She said the words with great awe before repeating them more emphatically. “I am, Lachlann. I am in love with ye.”
Lachlan placed a gentle hand on her back and said, “If ye realize yer love for me, let me take ye to wife.”
Her thoughts raced through the short amount of time she’d known him. Finn gripping his leg to hide from her. Lachlann’s warm smile had taken her breath away. Her spouting off at Domelch, and that wink! His expression of steadfast support had caused her heart to break out of its chains of complacency.
How could she not love this man?
“Aye, we will be wed.” Determined now, she turned to the priest. “Can ye do so now?”
The priest nodded. Confessions were made at Ethne’s request. She wanted to come to Lachlann as she would have had her parents lived to meet him. A simple agreement stating all his worldly possessions were hers, and since she had nothing to offer but herself, he accepted her into his tender care with the promise of seeing to her in all ways. And the contract was signed.
“Many thanks, Father. Ye are kind to have helped us with this since the hour is so late,” she said.
The priest dipped his head, accepting her thanks, and said, “I am happy to marry a couple so truly in love as ye two. May God shine his face upon ye and be gracious unto ye.”
A blessing from the church, and the deed was done. Lachlann was her husband. And she was his wife.
