“Wait.” Hall stopped Brie before she could leave, remembering the gift he’d brought. “I have something for you. A wedding gift.”
He pulled the necklace from his sporran and dropped it over Bridget’s head, envying the jewel as it fell into place between her lovely breasts.
“Once we reach Haven Castle, I’ll have a silversmith set it into something fancier and more permanent for you.”
Her eyes sparkled as her hand tightened around the flawed jewel. “I’m amazed you were able to retrieve this little gem. It’s perfect as it is, thank you. I’m only sorry I’ve nothing to give you. At least”—she grinned, nodding toward her brother—“nothing I can give you with him standing there, as he seems determined to do.”
“Ahem,” Jamesy said. “I can hear you quite clearly. I’ll thank you to save that sort of blether for after yer wedding, when I’m no forced to listen to it.”
“Who would have guessed my own brother would be such a maiden about this?” she asked with a chuckle.
“Have some control over yerself, lass!” Jamesy insisted. “We’ll deliver you to the chamber yer sharing with Mistress Syrie, where I’m sure you’ll be well looked after for the night. And then you and I, O’Donar, we’ve a none-too-patient group of men waiting for us in our laird’s solar.”
Jamesy claimed his sister’s good arm, forcing Hall to walk behind them as they made their way into the keep. Her annoying brother even inserted himself between them as they said a chaste good night, and by the time Hall and Jamesy reached the laird’s solar, his desire to do harm to the other man was ceasing to be a joke.
“Here they are!” Chase called out, shoving a mug into Hall’s hand as they entered the crowded room. “I’d begun to wonder whether I should send out a search party. What took you so long?”
“I was only trying to speak with Bridget,” Hall explained, lifting the cup to his lips.
Whisky. Smooth and strong. Exactly what he needed to tamp down his frustrations this night.
“And speaking is all you’ll do with my sister until the wedding’s done and over,” Jamesy said, slapping Hall’s shoulder as he passed.
“Hey, I totally understand what you’re going through,” Chase commiserated, his gaze following Jamesy’s departing back. “Why do you think Christiana and I chose to marry as soon as possible? You think you have it bad? Christy hastwobrothers, and both of them were breathing down my neck.”
Hall smiled in spite of his irritation. Chase Noble, the brother of his heart, always had that effect on him.
“A toast,” Malcolm called out, raising his cup high in the air. “To a battle well ended with the aid of our newest kinsman.”
As the cups were lowered, Eric lifted his again. “To yer wedding on the morrow, O’Donar, a day that equally marks the end of our troubles and the beginning of yers!”
“To Hall O’Donar and Brie MacCulloch,” Chase yelled over the laughter as the jug was passed around the room for refills. “May they live long and prosper.”
Chase ended his toast with a hearty laugh as if he’d thought of some private joke before draining his cup. “So, tomorrow the former Bridget MacCulloch will become Brie O’Donar and you, my brother, will have to come up with a naming gift, if I’m not mistaken. Have you decided on what you’ll give her yet?”
“A naming gift?”
The thought hadn’t crossed his mind, but Chase was absolutely correct. By their marriage he was giving Bridget a new name, and Thor demanded that a gift be exchanged.
By the gods. With less than twenty-four hours before they would wed, he could think of only one way to determine the perfect gift for the woman of his dreams.
He would have to ask her what she wanted and then, as he’d once sworn he would do, he would move heaven and earth to give it to her.
Thirty-seven
THISHAD TObe the best idea any of those overbearing women had ever come up with.
Brie lifted one foot from the hot water in which she soaked and propped her heel on the edge of the big wooden tub. Tiny dust motes danced in the sunbeam that washed over her foot.
Steam, thick with the scent of mint and balm, eddied up around her like a warm, moist pillow.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so relaxed.
This latest “necessity” before her wedding was definitely an improvement over the ridiculously named hen party Lady Danielle had insisted on the night before. With not one single chicken in sight, she’d been forced to endure an evening of giggling women and their unending, unrequested, and completely unnecessary advice.
Not that she didn’t appreciate each and every one of them. She did. It was only that secreting herself away with Hall would have been a much more enjoyable way to spend her evening.
But this? This had turned out to be one watery little slice of heaven. Best of all, once they’d pampered, petted, and smothered her with herbs and soaps for her bath, they’d said farewell and left her gloriously alone.
