Greylen gave his sister away in the ceremony performed by Father Michael. Having waited so long to finally be together, Isabelle and Gavin were very serious as they exchanged vows. Cook outdid herself for their evening meal and everyone dined together in the great hall, sitting around the table and toasting to the happy couple.

Hours later, Greylen’s men excused themselves, followed by Lady Madelyn and then Anna. Greylen looked to Gwen, and after noting the shadows beneath her eyes and saying good night, carried her to their chamber. Left alone, Gavin and Isabelle remained by the fire where they kissed. It seemed forever. But when the keep was at last quiet and kisses were no longer enough, Gavin cradled his wife in his arms and carried her up the stairs.

He was so gentle as he made love to her for the first time. He held her afterward, loving her tender ministrations as she traced her fingers upon his chest before succumbing to sleep.

He held tight to his sleeping wife for the rest of the night. He looked to his dagger atop the bed stand, the blade reflecting the fire’s soft glow.

Gavin the Brave was home at last.

Chapter 30

“Do you think they’re mad, Gwendolyn?” Isabelle asked, her head tilted slightly to the side.

Gwen snorted, tightening her arms around Isabelle to keep warm. “Mad?” Gwen repeated. “How about demented?”

Isabelle tilted her head to the other side, considering Gwen’s words. “Aye, you’re right,” Isabelle agreed. “Demented is more the like.”

It was Christmas morning, and instead of sitting in front of a roaring fire, enjoying a rather good reproduction of eggnog, here they were, sitting on the steps in front of the keep watching the men play football.

“This is all your fault, you know,” Isabelle said in a soft but accusing tone.

“My fault?” Gwen returned. “How do you figure?”

“You taught them how to play,” Isabelle reminded her.

Gwen sighed. “He told me to be useful.”

“And you listened to him?” Isabelle asked with a laugh. “Good God, Gwendolyn, ’tis one of the most ridiculous things you’ve ever done.”

“Ridiculous?” Gwen repeated. “You know what ridiculous is, Isabelle?” Gwen asked, pulling away to look at her. “You, wearing that insanely expensive necklace that Gavin gave you.”

“Do you like it? ’Tis quite beautiful.” Isabelle beamed, fingering the piece.

“I’ll give you that,” Gwen agreed. “But you still look ridiculous.”

“You look rather ridiculous yourself.” Isabelle snorted. “You have two medallions around your neck, and the scarf you made for Mother.”