“You did.”
“And were ye scared…of me?”
She shook her head. “Not at all. Mostly, I was worried my brother would be reckless. That he’d direct all of his men to kill just you, and you’d have a pile of them on you.”
“They’d never have made it that far.”
“Aye, I figured that out relatively quickly.”
“I didna plan to harm your brother,” he said, needing to tell her this. “I wanted to take him prisoner. I gave the order. But he ran.”
She nodded. “I appreciate that. I would have never asked.”
“Ye could have. Ye can always ask. I respect ye, Rhiannon. And I want our marriage to be a partnership, one where we can speak about such things. I’m no’ a brute.”
She grinned at him, taking his hand in hers. “I’ve never thought you were a brute. And I appreciate you wanting my opinion.”
“It’s only fair. Why should I be the only one making decisions?”
“It is traditional for the husband to do so.” She shrugged.
“Aye, and if either of us followed traditions, ye’d be married to the man who’s run off with your brother’s army.”
Rhiannon shuddered. “Then I am glad that we both are rebels.”
17
With the great hall cleared of patients and Rhiannon’s brother tucked into a chamber to heal—with guards outside the door—the clan prepared for a festive celebration.
Hours ago, the great hall had been a somber place; to look at it now, Rhiannon might have been in a different castle.
Fresh flowers had been brought in, brightening the space. Herbed rushes were replaced on the floor with new ones. A piper was playing a spirited tune with a fiddler, and a woman was playing the fife.
The music filled the hall, and people were smiling and dancing. Noah and Douglass sat on the dais, but Iliana and Matilda were in the center of the dancing, and surprisingly, so was Ian. He tugged her into the throng and swung her about. She was shocked after the battle that the men had enough energy to do more than imbibe ale.
From the emotional toll of it all, she’d felt like doing nothing more than flopping into a chair and napping for maybe a week. But their energy was contagious, so she joined the dance with exuberance.
As Ian swung her, her chest filled with a feeling that was hard to describe. Longing and happiness all at once. Somehow, in the last few weeks she’d known him, she’d fallen desperately in love with Ian. The fact that he was now her husband was surreal.
She was a Sinclair.
These people were now her people. And Douglass, her beautiful cousin, was her cousin now twice over.
She glanced toward the dais where Noah had his hand on Douglass’s belly and whispered something in her ear. They were so in love, and the vision of the two of them was incredibly endearing.
Ian twirled her in another circle, bending her over his arm, his eyes on hers, the smile on his face so pure she could melt from seeing it.
“I love ye, lass,” he said.
Tears of joy filled Rhiannon’s eyes. “Oh, Ian, I love you so very much.”
He lifted her back up and kissed her right there in front of everyone until all sense and breath left her.
Cheers rang out from the clansmen and women. Feet thundered on the wooden floorboards, and hands clapped. They called out for Ian to kiss her again, and before she had a chance to process, he was wrapping her in his arms and making the world melt away all over again.
This was what it was like to be loved, to be cherished.
There had been moments when they were on their way to Scotland that she’d worried she might not be accepted. She had no idea where she’d fit in. After all, she was English and begging charity from her English cousin, who happened to be married to a laird. What if people didn’t want yet another Englishwoman amongst them?
