Page 45 of A Dark and Stormy Knight (A Knight’s Tale #3)

A long hot shower later, first for her, and then for a very appreciative Wallace while she dried her hair.

Dang, she was going to miss all this. When she asked if she could take her mother’s makeup, Mom snorted, went to the pile of luggage, and held up Cara’s makeup box.

Cara let out a shriek. “Where did you get that?”

“Of course I demanded your things after I found you’d gone missing.” Next she pulled out Cara’s small suitcase, filled with all sorts of wonderful goodies.

Happily, Cara took it all.

They drove around looking for Rupert, Wallace in the front seat once again, while Cara sat in the back, between her parents, holding their hands.

Cara directed the cab driver to search the area around the church, and they drove through one backroad after another, looking for a tall, blond man dressed in medieval gear and carrying a sword.

So far, no luck.

When they arrived at the park Rupert and Cara rested at earlier, Cara instructed the cab driver to stop.

She got out and called Rupert’s name several times, but the park was empty.

Her parents didn't try to talk her into staying again, and she knew it was simply because they didn’t believe she was going anywhere.

They probably figured once she was in, medieval times, they’d know where to locate her.

They drove around for a while longer until Wallace finally turned around in his seat and said, “Mayhap he is at the church, lass?”

That did make sense, and she should have thought of it sooner.

They headed to the church and piled out of the car as her dad paid the cab driver.

Cara could almost feel the pull of the healing stone nearby, but they bypassed it and went inside the chapel.

Wallace was quick to locate a priest, a young, dark-haired man, wearing black shirt, pants, and clerical collar. “We are looking for someone. A tall man, dressed as I am, who also carries a sword. Have ye seen him?”

The priest looked at their group, his gaze lingering on their clothing. “I know who you’re referring to. I saw him and this lady here,” he indicated Cara, “earlier when there was an accident in the street. But I haven’t seen him since.”

Wallace looked at Cara and shook his head. “We must leave. If I go missing at this time …” he left the sentence unfinished, but she knew exactly what he meant.

Everything was tentative for his family. They needed a show of force, fast and strong, to reclaim what they’d lost.

They hadn’t worked so hard for this result, only to lose it at the last moment.

She sighed. “Okay, maybe we can find out what happened to him later. I’ll bet my parents will help.”

She looked at them questioningly, and they both gave noncommittal shrugs.

Cara gave them an exasperated look, and addressed the priest. “If our friend, Rupert Dinsdale, shows up looking for us, can you have him call my parents?”

“Of course.”

When the priest offered a paper and pen, she quickly wrote their names and phone numbers down.

Just like that, it was time to go, and sudden emotion gripped her hard and as she stood before her parents, she swallowed back the pressure of tears. “I really missed you while I was gone. I mean, sometimes I didn’t know if I would see you again, and it made me realize just how much I love you both.”

She hugged her mother first, a tight, hard grip, and Mom hugged her back.

They broke apart, and Mom gave her a watchful glance as Cara struggled to keep her self-control.

Turning to her father, she blinked back another blur of tears. “And Daddy, I love you so much,” she threw herself forward and they hugged with equal strength.

When she pulled away, she held out a hand to Wallace, and then gasped. “I don’t want my parents to miss my wedding!”

Wallace glanced around. “We can marry here and now, if you’d like.”

Dad choked, and Mom protested. “You are acting like lunatics.”

Dad looked like he might cry again. “Cara, you can’t possibly want this.”

She smiled at him softly, understanding his reserve, but unwilling to let the chance slide. “You’re the ones who told me to seek out adventure, to live the life that I wanted, and this is it.”

Mom turned to Dad. “Somehow, this is your fault.”

Cara laughed. “As if you didn’t fill my head with the same stuff. Telling me that I could do, or be, whatever my heart desired.”

Mom threw her hands up in the air. “We didn’t want this for you!”

Cara turned to the priest. “Can you do it? Can you marry us right now?”

“Uh …” the priest stammered. “Do you have a license?”

Cara looked at Wallace and he shook his head. “That matters not.” He turned to the priest. “Will you see to this wedding, so witnessed by her parents?”

“Well …” the priest looked at each person in turn. “As long as you realize this is simply a formality, and will not be considered legal.”

Mom shot Dad a satisfied glance, before turning to Cara. “Sure, honey, if this is what you want.”

Dad gave a reluctant nod. “All right. But you heard the priest, it won’t be legal.”

She smiled at both of her parents, understanding them completely, but also glad they’d see her wed. “All right, let’s do this.”

Wallace bowed to her parents. “The king himself betrothed us, if that makes any difference to you.”

“Sure,” Mom said. “The king of England, right? Let’s just get you married already.”

The priest took a few minutes to set things up, and then led them in their wedding vows.

It was a traditional wedding ceremony, to have and to hold, and all that. Looking into Wallace’s eyes, seeing the pure emotion, that included pleasure, tenderness, satisfaction, and love.

Her dad took pictures, probably for a future wanted poster for Wallace, but she’d be glad to have them.

Her heart felt too big for her chest, and her eyes welled with tears as the priest finished and pronounced them man and wife.

“Lady Wolfsbane,” Wallace said, and he leaned forward, his lips capturing hers in a possessive way that left her breathless, and thrilled.

She was his, and he was hers.

They could figure the rest out.

* * *

They were soon back outside by the stone in front of the church.

Under the skeptical gaze of her parents her father cleared his throat. “You know, this reminds me of the time you tried to fly away on a tire. You had a towel with some string attached and a book of matches.”

She smiled. “I remember that. I held up the towel, and you lit matches underneath so it would float like an air balloon. You would’ve sat there all day, lighting matches, wouldn’t you?”

Again, tears filled her eyes and she reached up and kissed him on his cheek, permanently reddened from the sun. “You’ve been the best father I could ever have wished for.”

She turned to her mother and really looked at her. Always chic, always put together, her thick, dark hair in its usual French twist. Exercise kept her trim and shapely, ready to take on the world.

Beautiful, she nevertheless put off an air of aloofness that few dared to try to breach.

Cara wrapped her arms around her mother, and pressed her face into her neck, and breathed in her Dolce & Gabanna perfume.

“And I couldn’t have asked for a better mother. You always told me to reach for what I wanted, even as I watched you do the same.”

She couldn’t stop crying, the realization that, once again, they wouldn’t just be a phone call away, getting to her.

She pulled back. “I promise to write to you, and even if you only get to read the letters all at once, you’ll be able to catch up, all right?”

“Sure, honey,” Mom said silkily, “we’ll do the same.” She glanced around at the traffic in front of them, at the chapel behind them, and then her gaze finally landed on the stone. “How does this work again?”

Wallace was at her back, tense and worried, and when Cara extended a hand, he was quick to grasp it.

“Can I use your dagger?”

He gave her the dagger attached to his side and she took it and cut her finger, just a bit, as Mom and Dad both protested.

“What are you doing?” Her father tried to take the knife, but she was already handing it back to Wallace who stuck it in its sheath.

With just the dot of blood on her finger, she reached up and touched her necklace and then turned toward Wallace.

He unclasped it.

When it sagged into Cara’s hands, she breathed a sigh of relief as she handed it to her mother. “If you’ll take it back to Stan Myers on Bond Street, and somehow clear my name, I would appreciate it.”

“I’ll make the arrangements,” Mom said. “Now what?”

“Now, we say goodbye.”

Mom looked out into traffic as if searching for their ride.

“Mom, Wallace is wearing a bracelet that will allow us to go back in time to medieval England.”

She gave her mother another hug, her alarmed-looking father another hug, and then reached out and clasped Wallace’s hand.

She was crying, smiling. “Don’t forget to watch out for Rupert, will you? We’ll be back in three months, to the day. In the meantime, wish me luck! We’re honeymooning in a castle in the thirteenth century! If that’s not an adventure, then I don’t know what is.”

So saying, she placed an arm around Wallace’s waist, and, still watching her parents’ alarmed faces, Wallace cut himself and pulled her to the stone.

As her parents faded away, she called out, “I love you both. Three months! Don’t forget!”

The last thing she saw were her parents shocked faces.