Page 46 of A Knight To Call My Own
A rush of humanity began filing out of the hall. They followed their laird closely so they did not miss the next spectacle that would surely occur. As Ian overheard the banter going on behind him, ’twas clear it had been some time since anyone had had anything to laugh over, and they were enjoying the entertainment their laird was providing.
Ian did not have to carry her far. ’Twas but a short distance to the destination he had in mind as he listened to the rantings of his very irate wife. With each step he took, her head bounced on his back afore she caught took hold of his waist to steady the rocking of her upper body slung over his shoulder. He muffled a laugh, thinking of the sight they must surely be making. She continued to curse him to hell.
Pushing open the door, he held the entry wide, allowing his people to precede him through the portal. The once empty space began to fill within the chamber. His mother and uncle were the last to arrive, with grim expressions marring their faces. Ian motioned for them to follow him to the front of the chapel.
“Father Michael,” he called as the man appeared from a side door of the now overflowing chapel. He set Lynet down and held her about her waist ’til she gained her feet. When she saw where he had taken her, an O of surprise lit her features.
“Laird MacGillivray, ’tis a pleasant surprise to see ye.” He looked around with a furrowed brow. “I have already performed the evening mass.”
“Aye, I know and apologize for missing it,” Ian answered.
“What do ye require of me?” the priest asked.
Ian brought Lynet close to his side and urged her to kneel beside him at the front of the altar. “I ask you to wed us in the sight of God and these witnesses so that no one will ever again question my marriage to this woman.”
Father Michael’s brow rose in surprise ’til he leveled his gaze upon Lynet. “Will ye have him, milady?” the priest inquired, going straight to the point.
“Aye.” Lynet’s answer was simple, and Ian could see for himself he had pleased her.
“Then let us begin,” Father Michael said. He stretched out his arms, motioning for those in attendance to take a seat as their voices lowered to a bare whisper. Since he had a large audience, the priest took advantage of a full house and began a short sermon.
With bowed heads, Ian and Lynet clasped hands whilst Father Michael at last pronounced them man and wife. Ian stood holding out his hand to assist Lynet from the floor. She took it, and he could feel her fingers trembling within his. Cupping her face, he leaned down to seal their fate with a gentle kiss.
Turning to his people, he expected to see some reservation on the faces of the clan. To his delight, most were in accordance with the match, or so it at least appeared. Only Edric looked as though he was about to yell out in protest ’til Fiona put a hand upon his arm. Though, even his mother did not appear pleased.
Tucking Lynet’s hand in the crook of his arm, he strode the short distance to stand in front of his mother. His gaze leveled upon hers ’til she gave the slightest of nods. ’Twould have to be enough, for now.
Ian held out his hand. “The keys, mother.”
Fiona’s lips pursed closed in a public display of unreleased fury. A low murmur of approval raced through the chapel, as even the clan was aware her reign as chatelaine was over. Her fingers reached for the chain about her hips, she reluctantly unfastened the clasp, and the keys jangled as she turned them over to Ian.
They did not remain long in his possession. He took the chain and put it around Lynet’s waist afore turning back to the clan. “From this day forth, let there be no doubt that the Lady Lynet is indeed my wife. Obey her, as you would obey me. Now, if you shall excuse us. I have some unfinished business with my wife.”
If Lynet was expecting her departure from the chapel to be anything other than her arrival, then she was mistaken. Once again, Ian picked up his wife and carried her in the same manner in which she had arrived for their brief wedding ceremony. Boisterous laughter followed the couple out of the chapel and back into the Great Hall. Ian called out for a barrel of ale to be brought up from the cellars to celebrate their union.
Neither Ian nor Lynet would indulge in such festivities going on in the Great Hall, and he took the stairs two at a time, still lugging his cursing wife. He had other ideas in mind. ’Twas long overdue that he must needs deflower his young virgin bride. He would put himself wholeheartedly into such a task.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Lynet felt herself being tossedfrom Ian’s shoulder to land softly on their bed. Their bed. She had actually done it, and no longer would Ian find his place on the floor to rest his weary head. He would be hers from this night forward. Yet, there were still matters that must needs be set aright between them, whether he knew it, or not.
She would not give in so easily to his charm. ’Twas practically radiating from him as he all but swaggered over to the hearth to add several logs to the low flames. The smell of burning oak filled the room, making Lynet’s nose twitch. She would ensure the chimney had a proper cleaning come the morn.
She scooted off the bed, refusing to become such an easy conquest for him. Ian said not a word, but stood staring at her with a cocky grin plastered on his handsome face. One arm was placed upon the mantel of the hearth whilst he casually leaned against it, standing there with those sparkling hazel eyes. Eyes that never left her own and observed her every move.
Unbuckling the belt at his waist, he slid the scabbard holding his sword from the leather and leaned the blade up against the wall. His sash came next as he placed upon the mantel the crested brooch that had held it in place upon his shoulders. His fingers took hold at the edge of his tunic, and, in one fluid motion, he removed it from his chest, flinging it to a nearby chair. Her eyes freely roamed the bared muscled skin touched with a hint of red hair. Her fingers burned in reaction. ’Twas as if she were already skimming them lightly across the hardness of his chest.
The thud of his boots hitting the floor brought her out of her short-lived daydream of touching his body. But this was no hallucination, and, from the look on his face, Ian was more than willing to accommodate her demand that she become his wife this eve.
“Come here,” he murmured. ’Twas not exactly an order, but, in Lynet’s mind, it seemed as though it might as well be one.
“Nay.” She lifted her chin in defiance, determined he not treat her as property, but as an equal.
He crossed the room, backing Lynet up ’til she was trapped against the wall. Her hands balled into fists to prevent her from doing the unthinkable. She knew without any doubt that to touch his scorching hot skin would doom her to fail in getting him to admit his love for her.
Memories of their conversations at Berwyck when he had returned for her came rushing to Lynet’s mind. They stood but inches apart. Her chest heaved as she made some small attempt at catching her breath. ’Twas of no use. She loved him. Her heart had always belonged to him, from the very beginning, whether he knew it or not. He had continuously had her love, even though he had thought her nothing but a mere child, all those years ago. She would hear his declaration she had longed for, even if ’twas the last thing she did.
Ian placed his hands on the wall above her head. He moved even closer ’til they were almost chest to chest. “By God, woman, you would deny me, yet again? I thought marrying you by our priest and in front of the entire clan would satisfy whatever schemes you had hatching in that pretty little head of yours,” he bellowed, pushing off the wall to rake his fingers through his hair in frustration. He turned his back on her and strode to the window to stare with unseeing eyes out into the darkness.
