He kissed her hard again then released her and walked back into the keep leaving her a little unsteady on her feet and more than a little breathless. That was the man who filled her soul so completely she was sure she would burst from it. Gone was the empty feeling she’d felt on the road. One look and one touch from him was enough to shift her whole world into focus.
Elspeth entered the hall to find her brother talking to Malcolm and Magnus. They all looked at her with different expressions; the first two with surprise, the latter with promise. She smiled at them all and joined them.
“I do not think I can arrange the priest so quickly,” Osgar said to Magnus. “Surely you can wait one more day.”
“We are anxious,” Elspeth said. “Is there no one who can go fetch the Father?”
“I will see to it,” Malcolm said. He shook his head and laughed. “When I arrived here, I thought I would be discussing my own wedding, not helping plan someone else’s.”
“Magnus,” Osgar said, “while I appreciate your enthusiasm to marry my sister, she deserves a proper ceremony and feast and one that is carefully prepared. My cook will likely have an attack of apoplexy if he does not have the proper time to prepare a wedding feast. Please, give me a few days to do this right.”
Elspeth was as driven as Magnus was to make their union a reality, but there was truth in what Osgar said. Once they did this there was no doing it again. So they may as well do it properly.
“What is your preference?” he asked her.
She saw everything in that question. Every memory they had made, every new one they would make, children, happiness, tears, and joy. He was her whole world and that had already begun. The beautiful part of this is that they already knew they were compatible, more than compatible. They were a perfect match. How many couples could claim that before they were officially married. And then there was the fact that they were already married in their minds and hearts. Aye, she could wait if it meant something to her family and likely his. His sisters would no doubt be eager to attend and she would love for them to be there.
Elspeth took his hand in both of hers and squeezed. “First of all, Magnus Haraldson of Islay, you have not asked me to marry you.”
Without hesitation he cupped her face in his hands and whispered, “Will you be my wife again?”
She smiled when Osgar’s head tilted in their direction as if to try to hear what he’d said.
“Aye, Magnus. I will be your wife.”
“Was there a second of all?” he asked.
“Secondly,” she said, “I would like my wedding to be as my brother suggests, with your family and mine present with a proper feast.”
“Then, you will have it!” Osgar said and left the hall.
“Malcolm, you will stay and help us celebrate?” she asked. Considering the awkwardness from earlier, she hoped their relationship would return to how it had always been.
“Aye, I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
She turned back to Magnus and smiled. She could see the eagerness in his eyes for them to resume their love, but he would have to wait. They would be wed in this time, and blessed by her God through their priest. And it would be forever.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The stag would be honoured at the wedding feast and Magnus was pleased for the invitation to hunt. It was a welcome distraction from the tension building in him having to wait days and days to officially claim Elspeth as his. When she’d said she wanted a proper wedding, he had not realized the effort that went into such an endeavour. In truth, he supposed, he didn’t really pay much attention to such things in his village either. He hunted, he fished and someone else cooked it.
Now as he sat at the morning meal with his sisters and Freydis, a peacefulness washed over him. As if the madness of the past several weeks melted away. In a few short hours, Elspeth would be his and despite Osgar’s offer to remain here for the winter, he longed to take her home, to what would be their home. They would stay with Gunnar for the cold months and come spring, he would take some men and start building their longhouse and other dwellings on the lands Gunnar had promised him. He’d seen so much now between Castle MacDomnail, this smaller keep, and even the structures in Iceland to know he wanted to build in stone. He planned to ask Osgar and Giric for advice on stonemasonry or to even help him find some men who knew the trade. He would pay them well and he would have his own Norse version of a castle and keep.
“You are lost in your thoughts, brother,” Saga said.
“I am thinking of the future.”
“You are thinking of your wedding night,” she said in a teasing tone.
Magnus looked at Freydis then. Though they had not spoken of it, he sensed she knew more than she was letting on over the past couple of days since arriving. Her eyes narrowed on him as they’d done so many times of late. She could not read his thoughts, but she was perceptive, nonetheless.
“I am thinking that I am a lucky man.”
“You are,” Freydis said. “Do you realize just how lucky?”
“I do.” It was obvious Freydis wanted to talk about their journey, but thankfully she kept her thoughts to herself. Today was not the day to delve into a philosophical discussion about gods and otherworldly beings influencing mankind for a higher purpose. Today was a day to celebrate a man and a woman declaring their devotion to one another before her god and their families.
“Do you plan to perform a blot sacrifice today?” Saga asked.
