Page 46 of Wolfehound (De Wolfe Pack Generations #11)

Folkingham Castle

Three Months Later

“I t’s called a Welsh diamond,” Liam said. “I hope you like it.”

Cambria was still staring at it, the enormous clear stone in a gold setting that he’d placed on her finger.

It was absolutely magnificent and she couldn’t get enough of it.

Nor could Caria, who was seated beside her.

The woman had practically torn her hand off trying to get a look at that glorious wedding ring.

“Welsh diamonds!” Caria said gleefully. “I’ve heard of those, but I’ve never seen one. Liam, it’s beautiful!”

He stood over the pair, smiling down at his wife.

“Remember the day my family and I came to Folkingham for the wedding?” he said.

“The day that le Mon arrived and the world became chaos? You may or may not recall that I’d brought a gift for you that I was unable to retrieve before everything happened. This is it.”

Cambria held up the ring, looking at it in the light. “It was worth the wait, my love,” she said. “It’s absolutely magnificent. I shall wear it proudly.”

Liam simply beamed.

In fact, he couldn’t seem to stop beaming.

He had been beaming steadily for the past three months as he recovered from his injuries resulting from his battle with Tyrus.

The knife wound hadn’t been too serious, thankfully, and had missed all of his vital organs, which was a stroke of luck.

Therefore, all he’d had to do was endure the stitches, the poison that had briefly touched him, and a recovery time that had been longer than he would have liked.

Cambria had been by his side through the entire process, and that was what had him beaming so much.

He had never spent three solid months with her during the course of their lifetimes and certainly not during the course of their courtship.

Three solid months with her and he couldn’t wait to marry her.

No one had tried to discourage them from being married immediately except for War.

He was the one who was reluctant this time because he wanted his son to fully recover before taking on something as taxing as a new marriage.

The last thing he needed was for his son to exert himself and end up setting back his recovery.

He had tried to explain that to Carlton, who didn’t want to hear it because Cambria was weeping daily about not being married.

At the ten-week mark since Liam’s injury, War finally gave consent for the wedding to take place.

And it had.

Today.

It had been a small ceremony involving the couple and their parents and a priest who blessed the union.

All of this took place right outside of the great hall because inside the hall, the festivities had already begun.

Brothers and cousins had all taken to drinking the expensive wine that Carlton had provided for the occasion, so by the time the happy couple arrived, everyone was fairly drunk.

The attempt to actually make it to the dais had been interrupted by many brotherly hugs, and slugs, and drunken kisses to the bride’s cheek.

After they suffered through all of that and made it to the table, they were plied with plenty of food and drink and the wedding feast began in earnest.

And what a feast it was.

Scott and his family were in attendance with the exception of Jordan, who’d chosen not to make the long trip back to Folkingham.

She was missed, of course, but her presence was felt in the silken veil she’d sent Cambria to wear during the wedding ceremony.

Even now, Cambria wore it pinned to the back of her head, proud to wear it, as Caria continued to admire the Welsh diamond ring.

Truthfully, she was trying to tug it off, and it was Scott who reached over and pulled her hand away.

“Enough, Cari,” he told her. “You are going to break Bria’s finger.”

Caria grinned up at her adoptive brother. “I just wanted to get a better look at it,” she said. “It sparkles so.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “You were going to run off with it, you little thief,” he said. Then he pointed to the center of the hall, where people were dancing to the music of a man with a lute. “Go and dance. Take the others with you.”

He meant his children, sitting at the table and bored because they didn’t yet appreciate a good wedding feast. But they did appreciate a good dance.

Caria leapt up and ran down the table, collecting Seraphina and then Scott and Avrielle’s youngest daughter, Jordan.

The little girls rushed out to those dancing, pulling on the hands of Kyle, now fully recovered, and Logan, who viewed young girls as one would view the plague—uninteresting, disgusting, and not to be danced with.

He preferred a lass his own age, of which there were none, so in the end, he was forced to dance with little Jordan.

The sight made Scott grin.

“The lad needs to learn to be tolerant,” he said. But then he turned to the couple. “As for you two, now might be the time to slip away. Everyone is either drunk or dancing and not paying attention to you.”

Carlton, on his daughter’s other side, heartily agreed. “Aye,” he said. “Go, now. Your mother is already in your chamber, making sure it is warm and well prepared. You can bid her a good night and send her back to me.”

Liam was already on his feet, looking to his father down the table. “Papa?” he said. “We are retiring. If you wish to kiss the bride, now is the time.”

War, who had been trying to convince Annaleigh to dance with him, got out of his chair at his son’s statement.

Annaleigh stood up also, and together, the pair of them moved for the happy couple.

Annaleigh hugged her son, but she was more interested in Cambria.

In fact, she took the woman affectionately by the arm and began to walk away with her.

Frowning, Liam watched them go.

“She’s running off with my wife,” he said, pointing. “Where is she going?”

As Scott and Carlton chuckled, War fought off a grin. “Probably telling her what to avoid in the marital bed,” he muttered. “Telling her that she should not do anything involving whips or ropes.”

Scott, and even Carlton, burst out laughing as Liam scowled at his father. “Christ, Papa,” he hissed. “Why do you do it? You are a terrible, terrible man to say such things.”

War broke down in soft laughter, putting his arm around his son’s shoulders and kissing him on the side of the head. “You make an easy target,” he said. But quickly, he sobered. “In truth, I wish you nothing but the best. Bria is a wonderful woman, Liam. You are blessed.”

Liam softened. “I am,” he said. “Thank you, Papa.”

War simply nodded, feeling emotional. He honestly didn’t trust himself to speak more than he already had, but there was something else he needed to say before his emotions overwhelmed him completely.

“Your mother has something to give you and Bria,” he said, gesturing to the women heading out of the hall. “Go with them.”

Liam didn’t hesitate. He made his way out of the hall, with his father following behind him, before catching up to his mother and wife as they stepped out into the sunset.

But just as he reached them, he noticed a shadow by his side and turned to see Bran strolling next to him.

Smiling, he paused long enough to bend over and give his dog an affectionate pat.

“Not tonight, old man,” he said. “Go back and sit with Papa. Go on, now.”

He was pointing to the hall, where War was standing in the entry.

War whistled to the dog, who ran happily to the man who would feed him scraps from his plate.

As War and Bran headed back into the hall, Liam bolted after his mother and his wife.

By the time he caught them again, his mother had her arm around Cambria’s shoulders, so Liam took her hand as they headed for the keep.

“I must say, that was one of the tamest weddings I’ve attended with a de Wolfe involved,” Annaleigh said. “The de Wolfe weddings are legendary for their debauchery.”

Cambria looked at her in disbelief. “Lady Jordan would permit such a thing?” she said. “I do not believe it.”

Annaleigh chuckled. “I’m not saying she permits it,” she said. “But her lads do it anyway. They sing terrible songs, jump on tables, and become ragingly drunk.”

“Sounds like a good time,” Liam said. “Scott was here. He’s her lad. Why did he not jump on the table and sing?”

Annaleigh laughed. “Because Scott couldna carry a tune in a bucket,” she said. “Moreover, he’s the Earl of Warenton, so some decorum must be maintained.”

They were all grinning by the time they passed into the keep and up the stairs.

Cambria was wearing the magnificent scarlet wedding dress, and it took both Liam and Annaleigh to help her up the steps with it.

By the time they reached her chamber, everyone was carrying some part of the skirt.

Liam let his portion fall to the floor as he escorted his bride into her chamber.

Fair Lydia greeted them.

“Ah,” she said, moving away from the table she’d just set, laden with food and drink. “Are the festivities over now?”

Cambria shook her head as Liam inspected the offerings on the table. “Nay,” she said. “There is dancing and music happening now. Papa wants you to come to him and enjoy it.”

“I will,” Fair Lydia said. “I simply wanted to make sure your chamber was perfect. And my thanks to Lady Warenton for escorting you.”

She smiled at Annaleigh, who smiled in return. The women had developed a fond friendship with one another, which was lovely to see.

“Thank you, Mama,” Cambria said sincerely. “For everything you’ve done… thank you.”