“‘Tis clear they do. But I'm about gnashing teeth with impatience just now.”

“Just be a bit calmer, my laird,” Arran said. “I think ye’ll be grateful for it when ye enjoy yer warm, sweet lass.”

“Lucky man,” Morven said slyly. “I sometimes wonder what the sweet lass saw in ye.”

Darach chuckled just as the door finally opened to reveal Lorna, all out of breath.

“Dinnae worry! She’s right behind me.”

Darach looked over at the priest, who was standing at the altar, and motioned him up. A heavy silence fell as Jane rounded the corner on her father's arm and entered the abbey. Darach was rendered speechless for a brief moment.

She wasn't just beautiful. She was breathtaking in every way.

The lady who walked toward him had all the bearing of ethereal royalty. She looked just like the angel she was.

When her gaze caught his, she smiled softly, almost melting him to the spot. Her hair was mangled into an intricate twist just above her nape, while the rest hung loosely around her waist. Darach felt unworthy as she walked calmly and serenely into the room.

She held the flowers he'd sent tightly in her hands, some of the petals falling to the floor as she approached. Darach was the only one who could read her expression. When she got to him, her eyes warmed and she smiled tenderly.

“Thank ye for the flowers. They’re absolutely beautiful.”

Something twisted in his heart. He offered her his hand, and when she gave it to him, they stepped forward together.

“The priest is waiting, my love,” he said.

She nodded then glanced up at the priest at the altar. “Let's get married. I think I've delayed ye enough.”

She smiled in pure joy, and Darach thought he might burst with happiness. He reached for the other hand, and she handed her flowers off to Aileen before sliding her fingers through his.

It felt totally right. Here was his woman, the woman who was to be his wife and the mother to his children.

There in the protective hold of family, he and Jane exchanged their vows.

She never wavered. Her words were spoken with a sweet smile and willing tone. She gazed lovingly into Darach’s eyes as she recited her promise to honor and obey.

Darach stared into Jane's hazel eyes as the priest declared them married, and they both leaned in to seal the moment with a kiss. She pulled back slightly to whisper in his ear, “I love ye”

Whistles went through the onlooking clan members, but Darach had eyes only for his new bride. He found her lips again, sweet and warm, and took his time as he ravaged her mouth. When they finally broke away, she glared ferociously up at him, her eyes glinting with promises that could only be fulfilled in private.

Darach smiled as he grabbed her hand and turned to face their wedding guests. An echoing roar went through the clan. Jane stood proudly beside him, a delighted smile curving her lips.

One by one, the men came to offer their pledge to their new mistress.

At first, Jane looked amazed by the show of loyalty. She twitched shyly, but Darach smiled as he watched her quickly come to terms with her new position. She’d led a sequestered life so far, and now it was time to fulfill her true fate as the lady of a large clan.

When the last soldier bowed before her, Darach took her elbow to guide her toward the great hall for their celebratory banquet.

Darach sat at the head of the table with Jane. She looked gorgeous in her position as mistress of the keep. They ignored the crowd and focused on each other. Darach couldn't help but feed her bites from his plate as an excuse to stare at her soft lips.

Her smile was so beautiful that it kept stealing his breath away. She had such a hold on him. He now had a reason to live.

After everyone in the hall had their plates filled, Morven stood with his goblet raised to signal a toast and asked that everyone join him.

“Tae the laird and lady!” he announced. “May they live long, happy lives and be blessed with many sons and daughters.”

Darach's mouth twitched as he watched his clan roar in agreement. He watched Jane's father stand and raise his goblet and incline his head in the couple’s direction.

“May my grandbairns be wise. May the sons be as strong as their faither and the lasses as beautiful as their maither. Thank ye for bringing my daughter joy, Darach.”


Tags: Fiona Faris Historical