Her brother had been wrong. Not only had she not had her fill of adventure, the adventure of her life was only just beginning.
Thirty-six
HALL GLANCED TOWARDthe western horizon, judging the position of the sun as it sank in the sky. He’d have to hurry to finish this task and still make it to the garden on time.
He didn’t want to keep his bride-to-be waiting; the woman had a temper on her. A smile broadened his face at the thought of Bridget in a full rage. She should have been born a redhead.
He made his way across the bailey to the blacksmith’s shed, where he peered into the forge. If his luck held, it wouldn’t take overly long to find the treasure he sought. Heat wafted out in waves to greet him as he poked the smithy’s tongs into the coals, digging around until at last he found what he hunted.
The soot-covered ruby glowed with heat as he pulled it out of the furnace and set it on the ground at his feet. Once it was cool enough to handle, he held it up to catch the day’s last bright rays.
His inspection revealed exactly what he’d expected. The jewel hadn’t escaped the effects of its time in the fire. A jagged white crack ran the length of the ruby, deep inside the interior. The heat had burst it from the inside out. Still, the jewel held together, strong to the last, even after its beauty and monetary value had faded.
This little bauble had protected Bridget in her battle with the Beast, as his rowan-wood goat had once protected him. It deserved a better fate than being discarded with the fire’s ashes simply because its magic and value were gone.
Besides, it would make a perfect wedding gift for his perfect bride.
As he had done once before, he tied a long, thin strip of rawhide around the gem and finished by knotting the ends to form a crude necklace.
That would have to do for now, though he’d promise her better for later on.
Satisfied with his efforts, Hall dropped the gift into his sporran and headed for the garden to meet Bridget. His heart raced in anticipation of the rendezvous as if he hadn’t seen her in days.
Since they’d made public their intention to wed, they’d been allowed no time alone together at all. Considering all the obstacles her brother and uncle had placed between them in the past two days, Hall suspected the two men still chafed over being denied the right to choose who would marry Bridget.
But his Bridget was an inventive woman, outwitting even her ever-present relatives. At the midday meal, she’d managed to whisper to him as they’d passed in the great hall, her message short but welcome.
The garden at sunset.
The remainder of the day had dragged for him as if the hours were weeks.
He rounded the corner of the garden wall, hardly daring to believe his wait was over, half fearing he’d imagined her words in his desire to be with her.
But Bridget herself sat on the garden bench. The sun shone around her like a halo, and just like that, nothing else mattered. Not her family, not the delay in seeing her, nothing other than this moment in time.
She spotted him immediately. Her face broke into the most beautiful smile he’d seen in days as she hopped up to run to his open arms.
Mindful of her bandaged arm, he pulled her close and breathed in the clean, sweet scent of her. “I’ve missed you.”
“And I you,” she murmured in return, her lips tracing a path over his cheek as her hand slid up his neck and into his hair. “I thought I’d never get away from those women. Syrie has hardly left my side, and the good Lady Danielle has her heart set upon something she calls a hen party for this evening. She claims it’s a necessity before a wedding, though I’ve never heard of the like before. Only by asserting a great need for rest before we tackle the chickens was I able to sneak away.”
Sneaking away had never sounded so good. As it did every time Hall touched Bridget, his body responded immediately to the feel of her in his arms, and his mind raced, trying to imagine where they might find a moment of seclusion.
“Is there no place in the whole of this damned castle where we can be alone?” Bridget asked, proving once again how perfect she was for him, her mind and his in perfect sync.
“You’ve all the time in the world to be alone.” Jamesy had somehow managed to arrive unnoticed. “Aftertomorrow.Afteryer safely wed.”
“You do realize that we spent days alone together as we traveled?” The glare Bridget directed at her brother would have skewered a lesser man.
“I do,” he answered. “And you will again, little sister. After tomorrow, and no before.”
Hall’s body ached at the prospect of letting this woman go so soon. “I suppose it would be bad form to murder the man who is to be my new brother?” he whispered in Bridget’s ear.
“Mayhap,” she answered on a sigh, resting her forehead against his shoulder. “But as he’s already my brother, I could gladly do it for you.”
“Come on with you,” Jamesy encouraged with a broad grin. “I’ve no desire to stand out here shivering in the cold while the two of you anguish over one another.”
With another heavy sigh and a roll of her eyes, Bridget turned to head toward her brother.
