Page 113 of The Forest Bride
“Aye. I will miss Lilias though. What of Andrew?”
“He can stay here with us. Constantine and the bishop suggested it.”
She brightened again. “I would like that so much! He and Owen are becoming good friends. And Bran is fond of him, says he will train him up to be a great knight. And here with us, he will have a chance to see his uncle now and then.”
“Aye, love. All things in their time, coming together. One thing more.” He held her hands. “With so many leaving in the morning, I thought perhaps we could marry now.”
“Now,” she repeated. “Here and now?”
“We may not see our friends and family for a while after this. And the bishop is here.”
“True. And my brother and all.” She looked away with a tiny, thoughtful frown. “Oh, aye. We will do that. It will be just a quick ceremony and a small celebration, being so sudden.”
“It is up to you.”
She nodded. “Then this is what I choose.” Pulling him close by their joined hands, she tipped her face for a kiss, long and luscious. He was reluctant to pull away, wanting to draw her deep into his arms, hold her, love her—find some private spot. But he only smiled, waited.
“The great hall can be done in candlelight and flowers,” she mused. “Effie would help, and others.”
“A lot of work to be done so quickly. I suppose we could do all of this in the hall.”
“Wait. I have an idea.” She walked away, picked up her bow, plucked an arrow from her quiver.
“I suppose that might help you think,” he said.
“You said it was my choice. Watch me decide.” She gave him a mischievous smile, then nocked the arrow and pulled the string back. But she lowered the bow and touched the pendant at her throat.
“You are doing that again.”
“When I dreamed of my grandfather, he said this enchanted pendant would send an arrow where I wanted it to go. I want to try that now.”
“Where do you want it to go?”
She smiled, drawing back the string. “Where it needs to go, Duncan Dhu. Let us see what it will do for us now.”
“What do you mean?” He laughed softly at her answering, elfin smile. She was just as whimsical and fey and beautiful in that moment as she had been years ago, when he saw her spinning happily in the bailey of his father’s castle.
She drew the string, tilting slightly to rest the arrow on her gripping hand, fingers light on the fletched end. For a moment she stood, eyes closed. Then she released the shaft.
A powerful shot. Duncan watched it arc past the target and sail over the castle wall. “You missed,” he said.
“Then we had best go fetch it,” she said with a little laugh.
Bemused, he walked with her through the commotion in the bailey and out through the open gate. As they crossed green grass toward the woodland behind the castle, he took her hand.
“Now where did that go,” Margaret said. Hearing her light tone, he stopped and caught her in his arms.
“What scheme is this? Leading your unsuspecting groom into the privacy of the forest? He is happy with that plan.” He drew her to him, kissed her, felt her press against him as she looped her arms around his neck and renewed the kiss, opening her lips to him, laughing softly, sweetly, against his lips. He was lost, wanting her to feel utterly lost in the moment too.
“Come with me.” She took his hand and led him between the trees, through deep ferns, into the vast spread of the wild bluebells beneath the oaks and birches. “Where did that go?”
“Over there.” He pointed ahead, seeing the fletching thrusting up in a thick haze of blue-violet petals between a few birch trees.
“Ah! Just where I hoped it would go.” Her green eyes, as she caught his gaze, were all sparkle and whimsy, with a touch of triumph and delight. “Look up.”
He did. The arrow had landed in the center of an arch of birches in a carpet of bluebells and ferns. The sun, cutting through the forest, streamed down in translucent beams. The whole area looked like an enchanted place, a natural cathedral in the forest.
“What is this place?” he asked, setting his arm around her as he looked around.
“This is where we will be married this evening, with our friends and family surrounding us. The hounds too, and the wee terrier. And the falcons. Can we bring the falcons out here as well?”
“They are part of our family too. My forest bride,” he whispered. “Your dreams start now, here.” Drawing her to him, he kissed her gently, and as she returned it with sweet fervor, he felt her arch against him, his forever.
“Oh, they began when I was small, and you were my handsome, honorable knight,” she whispered against his lips. “And this is our lucky place, here in the forest.”
“Forever so,” he whispered. He kissed her. “I never knew what luck was until the day I found you again.”