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Once Upon a Highland Christmas(27)

By:Sue-Ellen Welfonder


“To wed us?” Grim surprised her by sweeping an arm around her, pulling her close. “We dinnae need a holy man’s mumbling to bless our union  . Nor to make it any more binding than if we speak our intent ourselves.”

Breena pulled back, blinking up at him. Old memories rose in her mind, romantic tales sung at her uncle’s hearthside of how things were in ancient times. Both in her own beloved Ireland and the Scottish Highlands, in the bygone days of pagans and the tribes of Celts.

She’d forgotten Grim was pagan.

“You wish to marry me tonight, in the old way?” She lifted a hand to touch his beard, fingering one of its silver rings. “As my forefathers once wed and—”

“As we men of Nought still claim our lady wives, Breena.” He caught her hand, again lifting it to his lips, kissing each of her fingers. “We will have a priest say the vows later, just so no man can deny the truth of our union  . But this night, if we hold hands and look into each other’s eyes, pledging our love and intent, vowing to give ourselves to no other, so long as we both shall live, on this earth and beyond, then we are as good as wed, my dear heart.

“All that I say to you, Breena O’Doherty.” Somehow he’d taken hold of her other hand, laced their fingers, and pressed their joined hands to his heart. “Will you repeat the sacred words to me?”

She did, holding his beautiful gray gaze as she spoke them, the portent of each promise filling her with so much love and such joy she could hardly believe the happiness swelling inside her.

“All that I say to you, Grim Mackintosh,” she finished, tears of wonder misting her eyes.

“Then it is done.” Grim smiled down at her and she felt a hard lump in her throat.

She couldn’t speak and her heart beat much too fast, the little room and even Grim’s beloved face blurring as her tears spilled free.

There was magic at Christmastide. And she was surely the luckiest, most blessed woman in the Highlands. No, in all broad Scotland. Who would’ve believed Grim, a noble warrior of such high standing, would want her for his bride? That he’d make her feel as if she were not just a woman but the most precious gift in all the world?

She bit her lip, blinking rapidly, scarce able to believe her good fortune.

Grim squeezed her hands and stepped back, using his thumbs to wipe her cheeks. “I’d no’ make you sad, love. No’ e’er, and I’d tear apart the fool who would dare to bring you grief.”

“I’m not crying because I’m unhappy.” She lifted up on her toes, kissing his cheek. “My tears are for joy. You’ve held my heart so long. All this time I thought you didn’t even see me.”

“I told you, lass, I suspected you pined for a Donegal lad.” He met her gaze, looking somewhat embarrassed. “I didnae want to push you. Sakes, you’d scarce glanced at any of the braw and bonnie lads who sought to catch your eye. I was sure your heart was no’ just given, but broken by your loss. To see you rebuke such promising young suitors, lads who would’ve been well matched to you…”He closed his eyes for a moment, drew a deep breath. “Plain-speaking man that I am, I’ll tell you I thought a fine wee lassie like yourself would be afeared of a great brute like me.”

“That was never the way of it.” Breena took a deep breath of her own, summoning her courage and letting her love for this man run free. “No one else interested me. Only you. Though I doubted you’d desire me, noble warring knight that you are, with highborn ladies surely vying for your attention. How could I hope to compete with such worthies? In truth, I hoped to seduce you this night. I wished to prove to you that, if not a lady, I am a woman.

“I would do that now.” She let the drying cloth fall to the floor, holding his gaze as the linen pooled around her ankles. “I know a pagan marriage is not complete until we have lain with each other. I am not afraid. I desire you and wouldn’t wait any longer.”

“Sweet lass, you’ll bring me to my knees, again.” He swept her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. Holding her close to his chest, he pulled back the covers with one hand and lowered her to the mattress as gently as if she were made of gossamer-spun angel wings.

“I ken you’re aching from our journey, lass.” He stepped back, drawing off his mail shirt. “I’m no’ sure suchlike is wise. No’ until—”

“You won’t hurt me.” She could see his muscles beneath his linen undertunic. She shivered, deliciously. Her heart raced and she could feel her blood rushing, her entire body warming. How could he have even considered she’d be better off with a younger, less-roughened man? She didn’t want a boy. She wanted Grim, a battle-proven warrior who she knew would love as hard and fiercely as he fought. The night candle showed his form clearly, and having him almost naked before her thrilled her so much she couldn’t look away. She silently willed him to remove his last bits of clothes.