“When do you leave?” she asked.
Ian glanced up at her, not wanting to leave at all. “Soon as the men are ready.”
“Marry me before you leave?” she said, shocking him and solidifying in him once more that they were meant to be, for wasn’t that what he’d said outside?
“Noah is gathering Father August now.”
“Get out,” Douglass said, bursting through the door. “Out, out. If we’re to have my dearest cousin ready to wed you, we cannot waste another minute with the two of you yammering on.”
Ian leaped to his feet, staring at the three fierce women in the doorway.
Rhiannon laughed, and Ian hurried out of the chamber before they shoved him out. The door slammed behind him, and he hurried down the stairs to give his brother the good news.
Noah and Father August were standing in the great hall, talking quietly. The men had gathered too. Father August gave the men blessings before the battle, and while he was doing that, Ian told Noah she’d said aye.
“I knew ye had it in ye. Just needed to find the right woman.”
“She suggested we wed before I went off into battle.”
“As I said, the right woman.”
Aye. A few moments later, the women returned, Rhiannon’s wet hair pulled back into a plait, and a fresh gown clung to her curves. Ian was fairly certain he’d never seen her look more beautiful than she did at that moment, walking toward him to pledge herself to him as his wife for the rest of their days.
And he was confident the end of their days together wouldn’t be today.
“My dear,” Father August approached her. “I must take your confession first. And then yours.” He pointed at Ian.
“I have committed no sin,” Rhiannon said, “and I have prayed daily from the moment I left my brother’s house until the last step into this room.”
Ian forced himself not to smile at how pious she made herself appear, for they had sinned more than once on the journey to Castle Buanaiche, and he would have very much liked to have sinned when he saw her standing there in only the thin, wet linen from her bath.
“I, too, Father, confess that the only sin I have committed is wishing my enemies dead.”
“Ye’re absolved.” Father August waved them forward and asked Rhiannon if she was there of her own free will.
“I am,” she said, “but you may want to check on Laird Sinclair.”
Ian swiveled his gaze toward her, shocked that she could be teasing a man of the cloth, but she looked entirely serious.
“Ian, are ye here of your own free will?” Father August asked, suddenly appearing very concerned.
Ian kept his laughter inside, realizing how serious Father August was. “I am indeed.”
“Well, then we shall proceed. Do ye take each other to wed?”
“I do,” they said at the same time.
“Then I declare ye man and wife.” It was the quickest wedding ceremony Ian had ever witnessed. The hall erupted into cheers, and he took Rhiannon into his arms and kissed her as thoroughly as he’d wanted to upstairs.
When they finally broke apart, he stared into her eyes and whispered, “That will have to do until I return.”
“I eagerly await the moment.” She gripped him by the shirt, a slight tremble in her fingers, the teasing gone from her eyes. “Be careful. My brother doesn’t fight fair, and I suspect the man he wanted me to marry won’t either.”
Ian put his hands over hers. “They willna beat me. Of that, I can promise.”
And he meant it. Adam and his allies were going to rue the day they locked her up and then pursued her into Scotland.
As the men assembled outside, the women stood on the stairs, holding hands and watching.
