by Terry Spear
“Aye, and you’ve looked at the blasted flowers long enough.” Even if she hadn’t had time to look at them, purple was purple. “We need to discuss more important matters.”
“Oh?”
“She’ll see you ladies later.” He turned and stalked out of the room.
She sighed. “Cearnach…”
“Aye, lass?”
“What in heaven’s name was that all about?”
“I wished a word with my mother.”
“Did you get what you wanted out of the conversation?”
He took a deep breath, nuzzled his face in her hair, and said, “Aye. My mother is a canny woman. She was right.”
“About what?”
“That you were meant to be mine, no one else’s, no matter the circumstances. You were wounded on the battlefield, weren’t you?”
She took a deep breath. “Just a scratch. It’ll heal.”
“Vardon,” he growled.
“Don’t worry, Cearnach. Next time I see him, I’ll kill him.” She gave Cearnach a small smile.
God, how he loved his she-wolf.
He knew why his mother and even Flynn had been so insistent that he mate Elaine right away. She needed protection from the past and a family for the future. He was both for her.
* * *
Later that afternoon, the ladies gathered in the garden room to talk further about Elaine’s wedding, this time without Cearnach’s interference as his brothers were practicing sword-fighting with him, at their mother’s request.
“I don’t know what I should do,” Elaine said to the women.
Julia and Shelley were sitting together on one sofa. Cearnach’s mother and aunt had taken up another, while Cearnach’s cousin Heather and Calla sat on a third one in front of the fire as it crackled and popped with welcome heat. Sheba’s pups played in a bundle of teeth and fur and legs nearby, growling and woofing. Elaine’s own puppy, Whiskers, named because of her funny little beard, was chewing on her shoelaces.
She was conflicted about wearing her own plaid at the wedding. “I’ve never worn the sett of my clan, but I can’t just borrow someone else’s for the wedding.”
“You could wear a white wedding gown,” Shelley said. “Some of the wolves do for their Scottish weddings. I thought of doing so, but my Uncle Ethan wouldn’t hear of it.”
Surprised that Shelley hadn’t worn what she wished for such a special occasion, Elaine looked at Julia for her input.
“I wore my clan’s plaid,” Julia said. “It felt right to me.”
Elaine chewed her lip as she watched Sheba’s pups biting and growling and yipping in a variation on who’s top dog of the heap. “All right,” she said. “I’ll wear my clan’s plaid.”
Julia and Shelley frowned at her, not looking too happy about her decision, although all along they had said the choice was hers.
“Think of it as Romeo and Juliet, only with a happy ending. I doubt the feuding families will be happy with the match, but it’s kind of like mending fences… in a wolf way.”
Shelley smiled but shook her head. “More likely it will be another reason for them to hate our clan.”
Our clan. Elaine knew she was not only mating with a wolf from this clan, she was also joining them. Becoming family. Part of a pack. Who would have ever thought that a near collision with a wolf from an enemy clan would turn out so well? That he’d become her lover, her mate.
She was finally home. Not in a place she’d ever imagined. It felt right. Good.
“And,” she said, “I want to hold the wedding at Senton Castle.” She knew that would not go over well with Cearnach’s people. Senton Castle was beautiful, even in ruins. It was her birthright. The kirk was still standing. No glass on the windows, no pews to sit in. A stone floor and a roof over their heads in case it rained. That’s all that mattered.
“Not in our chapel?” his mother asked, her brows raised. She sounded more surprised than annoyed.
“I feel… I feel I must pay homage to my parents, to my uncles in some small way. What better way than to sanctify Cearnach’s and my marriage in my family’s chapel?” She thought it would feel like she was including her family in this joyous occasion. That the fighting between the clans had finally ceased. At least between her Hawthorn family and the MacNeills. The Kilpatricks and McKinleys were another story.
His mother nodded. “We will have to ask his lairdship if he approves, but I will put in a good word for you.” She smiled and looked at Julia.
Julia sighed. “I will attempt to convince Ian that you have your heart set on it.”
Calla smiled brightly, and Elaine didn’t think anything was too daunting for the woman when it came to setting up celebrations. “It’s a brilliant idea. Not unlike weddings held where the bride and groom stand in the waves at a beach or skydive into matrimony or scuba dive with their friends. They share in the history of a place.”
“But you’ve never shared anything with Cearnach at Senton Castle,” Cearnach’s Aunt Agnes said. “You’ve never been there with your family. I don’t see why we have to go to the ruins, truly.”
“Cearnach and I did spend time there,” Elaine said, recalling fondly how they’d visited the ruins like two lupus garous on a date. Their first. The way his hand had held hers, keeping her from slipping on the wet, mossy stones. The way he hadn’t wanted to release her even after she was safely inside the inner bailey. The way he’d smiled at her when she’d raced all over the castle as a wolf. “Have you ever entered a home and felt as if you were welcome and that you weren’t just a visitor? That something about the place made you feel good, joyful, at home?”
Shelley and Julia nodded. Cearnach’s mother and aunt had probably never considered going anywhere other than their home at Argent Castle so no place else would feel like home.
Elaine shook her head. “I don’t know how to explain it, but when I was there, I felt as though I’d been there before. I didn’t see it as a place of ruin, but a place where once my people lived, broke bread, laughed, worshipped, worked, fought, and played. My parents were even wed in that kirk. They loved one another until the day they died. That’s where I want to marry Cearnach.”
Cearnach’s mother quickly brushed away tears. “Something in my eye. Blasted dust,” she said.
Julia tried to fight a smile. So did Shelley.
Calla didn’t bother. Aunt Agnes’s face reddened a little as if she was embarrassed for her sister by marriage.
* * *
On the day of the wedding, the sun was poking out of the light, fluffy clouds. Elaine knew it was going to be a grand day as Ian walked her down the aisle of the kirk, sunlight reflecting off the stained glass of the vases holding lavender flowers. The colorful flickering lights shimmered in the medieval gray stone building, like tiny winged fairies of some Celtic myth or legend.
The men all wore their kilts and Prince Charlie jackets, belted swords at their waists, dirks in their hose. The women wore long plaid gowns, mostly of the green and blue plaid and yellow of the MacNeills, while Elaine wore the McKinley plaid, predominantly green and blue and red, since the Hawthorn didn’t have their own sett and had been allied with the rest of their McKinley kin over the years.
When the minister asked if anyone would object to the marriage, Elaine smiled at Cearnach who was looking down at her with such profound love that tears gathered in her eyes. She hadn’t wanted to cry, told herself she wouldn’t, but she loved him and couldn’t help herself.
Growling between the hounds as they fought over something made everyone turn and look as Logan ran into the chapel dangling a piece of dirty blue silk from his fingers. He waved the torn fabric like a flag. “Anlan found it and Dillon was playing tug of war with him over it.”
Elaine let out her breath and thought to continue with the ceremony, but then she remembered what Cearnach had told her. One of the goods her uncles had stolen from them was silk.
She rushed to join Logan. “Where did the dogs get it?”
/> Cearnach was close behind her.
His mother said, “What… what are they doing?”
Aunt Agnes said, “I told you we should have had the wedding in the chapel at Argent Castle. Nothing would have interrupted the ceremony there.”
Logan led the way across the bailey to the cellar in the southeast tower and pointed to a place where the dogs had been digging. Two of the pups were deep in the hole, yipping and running around. “They smelled something in there. They were digging and… well, they opened up a wee passage.”
“Let me see.” Cearnach crouched down to get a better look. “It’s too dark.”
Ian leaned down with a flashlight, and Cearnach used it to peer into the hole. “Flynn, what are you doing in there?” He studied the silk, the shimmering gold, the pearls, the emeralds. His eyes widened at the sight of his sword poking out of the crate of green jewels—with the first carved handle he’d made, the one he had used in the fight against Elaine’s Uncle Tobias and had lost to the older male. He shook his head. “Figures you put the dogs up to locating the hidden room, Flynn.”
Cearnach smiled and looked up at Elaine, who was waiting to hear what they’d found.
“It appears your treasure…”
“Your stolen merchandise,” Elaine corrected Cearnach.
“Was hidden in a secret room, buried for centuries. It’s all there. Well, the pearls and gold and silk. The sugar I’m certain your kin used long ago. The loch surrounds the castle on three sides. During a downpour, water runs off the cliffs, making it appear like a waterfall. Here is where your uncle said the treasure was all along. And my sword,” he said quietly, remembering when he’d fought so hard, determined not to give up while his da and clansmen and the pirate crew watched.
Her uncles had brought them together—the sword, their niece, and the Highlander who would one day steal her heart.
She touched his arm and stared up at him, her eyes wide with disbelief. “The one my uncle took away from you during a sword fight aboard your ship?”
“Aye.”
“My uncles would be happy for me. Your sword will have a special place in our bedchamber,” she said, taking a deep breath, her eyes misty with tears.
He loved her with all his heart, the she-wolf who would protect him. If she’d been with her uncles at that time, he knew she would have defended Cearnach even then and probably made her uncle return Cearnach’s sword to him.
He handed the flashlight back to Ian, who returned it to Logan. Cearnach’s gaze shifted again to the treasure before him. In her McKinley plaid wedding gown, she looked every bit the Highland lass, her hair pinned up in curls around her head, the bottom of her gown showing off lace-trimmed petticoats underneath. He wanted nothing more than to remove the McKinley plaid from her sweet body and the pins from her hair, and return her to their chambers at Argent.
“I thought to remove all weapons from our bedchamber and turn the room into a garden-like setting. The treasure is yours to do with what you will.”
“No,” she said, wrapping her arm around Cearnach’s and tugging him out of the cellar and across the inner bailey to the chapel. Everyone hurried inside to take their places again. “I found my treasure, and it isn’t merchandise but one hot-blooded Highland wolf in a kilt.”
Smiling, he leaned down to kiss her, and his mother said, “There’s time enough for that after the wedding, Cearnach.”
He ignored her and kissed Elaine like there would be no tomorrow. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him right back, deeply, passionately, with all her heart. She had evaded him all those years ago to finally find her way into his arms, into his life again, this time to stay.
Cearnach breathed in the scent of Elaine, the wind and wet breeze, the she-wolf’s sweet fragrance. He tasted her wine-flavored mouth, felt her heated soft body pressed against his, and wanted nothing more than to take her home now and mate with her again.
He turned to address the minister. “Finish with all haste.” He vowed they’d have the feasting done in the inner bailey in record time, and then he and his bonny lass would return to Argent Castle alone.
He loved her with every fiber of his being and realized as he saw Calla beaming at them near the front of the chapel that his plan to attend her wedding and change her mind about marrying Baird McKinley had brought him to this.
His own wedding—with the wolf of his dreams.
Acknowledgments
Thanks so much to my readers who made me a USA Today bestselling author! I can’t thank everyone enough! To my editor, Deb Werksman, who continues to show me the way; to Danielle Jackson, who always keeps me straight on all the events I’m scheduled for; to the Sourcebooks cover art department that makes cover art, not just book covers; and to my Rebel Romance Writers, who keep me sane. And again to my fans. You are my inspiration!
Bestselling Author
About the Author
A USA Today bestselling and award-winning author of urban fantasy romance and historical romance, Terry Spear pens fantasy and reality and historical works that are full of adventure, romance, mystery, and intrigue. She’s a retired lieutenant colonel from the U.S. Army Reserves and has an MBA from Monmouth University. When she’s not writing, she teaches online writing classes, gardens, plays around with photography, and creates award-winning teddy bears that have found homes as far away as Australia.
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