‘You heard her, Father,’ Brodie called out to the priest she had not seen there earlier. ‘A wedding it is.’
The hall erupted into cheering and Arabella found herself carried to the dais in Brodie’s arms and placed before the new priest sent to serve God’s people in Drumlui.
‘I had faith you would say aye.’ He winked at her as the priest began the ceremony and they exchanged vows there before her family and his.
The noon meal became their wedding feast and Arabella enjoyed it more as she watched Brodie finally accept his place there. It was hours before they were able to make their way to their bedchamber.
And, hours more before she could move or think or put words together.
* * *
He turned to watch her as she slept, still not able to believe she was his in every way that meant anything. Oh, the contracts covered the law and the Church, but she had chosen to say aye to him and the love he brought to her. Lifting her hair out of her face, he counted the seconds of each breath she took and smiled as she mumbled under her breath.
Apparently, ’twas a bad habit she’d picked up while his prisoner. As was her habit of questioning him every chance she could. He did not mind her earlier questions at all for they were about the ways he wanted to take her. She’d remembered that comment and brought it up all through the day, leaving him hard for all those hours between the wedding and their leave-taking. But she had paid for it once they reached their chambers.
Or had he paid the price?
It mattered not.
‘What are you doing?’ she asked in the husky voice of sleep that made his body respond...again.
‘Just waiting for you to wake,’ he said, kissing the tip of her nose. He hesitated for a moment, thinking that she would tell him no since he’d wakened her several, well, four times this night already. Lucky for them that they had married in late autumn when the nights grew very long, giving them plenty of time to be abed.
‘I wonder if I should tell you of my wicked dreams this time?’ she asked, leaning up on her elbow and stretching out alongside him so their bodies touched.
‘When did you begin having wicked dreams?’ he asked, wrapping his arm around her and kissing her.
She might be the death of him if she continued to accept his every overture, but right now, as his body and heart and soul warmed next to her, he cared not.
‘Well, there was this cave in my dream...’ she began. As she whispered, she touched. As she touched, she loved him and healed him of the betrayals and hurts of the past.
And he loved her more than all the horses and cattle they’d bought with the gold from her dowry.
Epilogue
Six months later
‘You are kin.’
‘Not close enough for this,’ Rob said. Crossing his arms over his chest, he was the image of defiance and refusal.
‘Now you know how women feel,’ Arabella said with a laugh. She remembered her brother’s words saying he would be bought or sold just as she was being and laughed again at his disgruntled, insulted expression.
‘Margaret thinks it a good match,’ Brodie said with a shrug. Arabella liked that he relied on the women who’d helped him during his struggle and not just the elders and other men.
‘Make certain to promise enough cattle this time,’ she offered. It was a joke between them now. Whenever difficulties arose, horses and cattle were pledged.
‘I do not think you are taking this seriously, lady,’ Rob pointed out. ‘And neither of you are taking my objections seriously, either.’
‘Rob, it was your idea that I should be made chieftain, so you now must put up with the consequences.’
‘I offered you my loyalty. I offered you my service and my sword, Brodie,’ Rob said. ‘But I do not remember saying you could sell me to another clan.’
Brodie glanced at her and then walked to where she stood looking out the window of their chamber. Though she felt large and cumbersome, he never failed to touch her or place his hand on her growing belly to wait for movement beneath it. And she did not mind at all. Wrapped in his arms, she leaned her head back against him as the battle raged on between Brodie and his best friend.
The matter at hand was a betrothal being discussed by one of the clans newly allied with the Camerons and Mackintoshes. Being unmarried and a blood relative of the chieftain, Rob was the perfect man to be named. However, he was too busy enjoying his life, flitting from woman to woman, bed to bed.
‘I am not selling you,’ Brodie said. ‘I am asking you to go and meet the young woman. If you think you suit, then we will make an offer.’
