me have my way.”
“I will,” she said, smiling back at him.
Ian sat up and took her hand. “I have something I want to ask ye first.”
The seriousness of his expression sent a frisson of anxiety through her. She sat up cross-legged to face him and pulled the blanket over her shoulders. “Aye, what is it?”
Ian licked his lips. She’d never seen Ian look nervous before in her life, and it put her on edge to see it now.
“What I want to ask ye is, would ye like to do it over again?” he said. “Get married, I mean. With friends and neighbors coming to wish us well, a big feast, music and dancing.”
Sileas was too stunned to speak.
“I’d like to do it right this time,” he said.
Tears stung at the back of her eyes. Her voice came out as a whisper. “Ye mean it?”
“I do,” he said, his eyes soft on hers. “When I give ye my vows before all our friends and neighbors, they will know I give them freely and that I mean to keep them.”
She had tried not to let what others said hurt her, but in an island clan where everyone knew everyone else’s business, it had been hard. Ian had found a way to restore her pride by honoring her before their clan.
“Murdoc said that wasn’t a real priest who wed us that day,” she said.
“Ach, I should have guessed my uncle would do that. Then we’ll ask Father Brian to bless our marriage.” Ian lifted her chin with his finger. “I want ye looking your loveliest in a fine gown, and every man eating his heart out because ye are mine.”
Sileas thought of the ill-fitting red gown that sagged at her bosom and made her skin look blotchy and her hair orange.
“I’ll wear a gown of blue, the color of my true love’s eyes,” she said, letting a slow smile spread across her face. “It will be so gorgeous that the women will talk of nothing else for weeks.”
“Ye will do it then?” Ian asked. “Marry me again?”
Sileas threw her arms around his neck. “I’d marry ye a thousand times over, Ian MacDonald.”
Ian held her tight against him.
“When I was a lad, Tearlag predicted I would wed twice,” he said with a laugh in his voice. “Tearlag could have saved me a good deal of trouble if she’d told me it would be to the same woman both times.”
Sileas looked up at him from under her lashes. “So which wife is it that ye intend to make love to slowly?”
“It will have to be you,
CHAPTER 43
Sileas and Beitris greeted the last group of women as they entered the gatehouse of Knock Castle. The women cooed and clucked as they surveyed the presents that were laid out for that very purpose.
“Ach, the stitching on that pillow is lovely, Margaret,” one woman said to another.
“But not as useful a gift for a bride as the fine iron pot ye gave her,” her friend replied.
It was only three days since Connor was made chieftain, so the women had barely had time to prepare their gifts. But after Sileas’s long wait for a real wedding celebration, none of them was complaining. Despite the mild smell of charred wood that lingered in the air, Sileas was glad now that Ian had insisted they not wait until the keep was livable to have their wedding.
Once the women had finished viewing the gifts and complimenting each other, Beitris called out, “Time for the washing of the bride’s feet!”
Sileas laughed as the women sat her down on a stool before a wooden tub—a wedding present from Ilysa— pulled off her shoes and stockings, and stuck her feet into the cold water.
Sileas had not grown up in the company of women. She had always felt awkward among them, particularly in the years when she didn’t fit in with either the unmarried lasses or the women with husbands. More than a few had made thoughtless remarks to her about Ian’s long absence. But today, she felt accepted for the first time—and she was enjoying herself.
Sileas watched as her mother-in-law twisted off her wedding ring and tossed it into the tub.
“You have the happiest marriage I know, so your ring is sure to bring me the best of luck.” Sileas took Beitris’s hand and smiled up at her. “I am blessed to have a mother-in-law who is like a mother to me.”
Beitris sniffed and wiped her nose as the women cheered.
Then all the women in want of husbands gathered around the tub. Sileas shrieked as they took turns scrubbing her ticklish feet and searching the bottom of the tub for the ring. Though Ilysa was younger than she and a widow, Sileas was surprised to see her standing in line to take a turn. Ilysa had never shown any interest in remarrying before.
Ilysa, however, never got her turn.
“I have it!” Dina shouted. The other women exchanged glances, for they were all quite aware of how Dina lost her last husband.
“Good luck to ye, Dina,” Sileas said. “May ye be as happy as I am.”
The women finally deigned to notice Ian and the other men who, by tradition, were crowded around the doorway, joking with each other and trying to peek inside. Ian let the women drag him into the room and sit him down on a stool on the other side of the tub from Sileas.
