Chapter Twenty #2
“I’ll tell ye what it means.” Ian turned and knelt in front of Jo, taking her hands in his. “I love ye,” he vowed fervently. “In fact, I’ve been in love with ye since the first moment I laid eyes on ye and yer snarling dog.”
Jo’s stomach leapt. Smiling, she said, “I can’t say I loved ye quite that long. In fact, after ye fell on my loom, I wanted to sic Ruby on ye.”
“And now?” the abbot chimed in.
She locked eyes with Ian, and when she spoke, her voice trembled with feeling.
“I made my heart hard so that I wouldn’t feel or cry or surrender.
For two years, I’ve done naught but breathe and fight...
until I lost all reason for doing both.” She gripped his tunic.
“And then this giant, red-haired, stubborn Scotsman dropped into my life and vowed to protect me...even from myself.” Tears filled her eyes.
“And he became my friend. He showed me it took strength to cry and to feel...and to love.” Her tears blurred the ardent expression on his face.
“Ian MacVie, I love ye. And I will keep breathing, and I will keep loving ye all the rest of my days.”
He crushed his lips to hers, long and hard. Then he jerked away, his blue eyes meeting hers. “Will ye marry me then, Jo?”
She threw her arms around his neck. “I will!”
Ian scooped her into his arms and spun her around. Then he turned to the abbot. “What say ye, Abbot? Will ye marry us?”
The abbot chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “As yer brother, Rory, knows, I cannot solemnize yer union, however, I can speak with Father John. Mayhap he can hear yer vows after Sext.”
They locked eyes. Her heart raced wildly.
“My wife,” he breathed, his voice reverent. He cupped her cheeks, and slowly lowered his head, his lips claiming hers. She groaned softly and stood on her tiptoes, her arms twining around his neck, and she kissed him with all her love, all her passion.
The abbot cleared his throat.
They broke apart, both breathless and wanting more.
“I think it best not to wait,” Abbot Matthew said in a rush, then stood and darted across the room toward the door. “I will just go and speak with Father John now.”
JO USED HER FINGERS to work the tangles free from her hair, which she left unbound, her brown waves falling loose down her back.
She looked down at her shabby tunic and chipped away at some dried mud.
A memory of the beautiful tunic her mother had made for her fifteenth birthday flashed in her mind’s eye and a sad smile curved her lips. “I love ye, Mama.”
“There are beautiful flowers this time of year in the garden.”
She whirled around. The abbot walked toward her, holding a circle of blossoms in one hand. “I took the liberty of weaving ye a crown, Lady Josselyn.”
Jo curtsied. “It has been a long time since I’ve been called that.”
Smiling tenderly, the abbot placed the crown on her head. “Yer father was a valiant man and a true servant to Scotland. I was honored to call him friend.” Then he bowed to her. “It would be my honor to walk ye down the aisle.”
Tears stung her eyes. “I miss them.”
Brows drawn, the abbot straightened and clasped both her hands in his.
“They are smiling down at ye from heaven. This match would have made them happy. Ye could not have entrusted yer heart to a finer man, but I need not recommend Ian’s good character to ye.
Doubtless, he has proven his worth already. ”
Jo smiled through her tears. “He is all things good and kind.”
The abbot offered her his arm. “Are ye ready to marry Scotland’s gentle giant, then?”
“I can hardly believe this is all real, but aye, Abbot, I am.”
She walked into the nearly empty chapel on the abbot’s arm.
Straightaway, she locked eyes with Ian who awaited her at the altar.
He, too, wore his travel-stained tunic, belted at the waist over fitted hose that showed the strength of his muscular thighs.
His long, unruly, red hair was secured at the nape of his neck.
She had to stop herself from sprinting ahead and throwing her arms around his neck.
Their walk up the aisle felt like an eternity, and when she finally stood in front of him everything else fell away.
The walls of the chapel, the stained-glass windows, Father John’s gentle features, everything but Ian faded into a haze of color and sound.
Their words, the priest’s, Ian’s, even her own responses, seemed otherworldly.
Her only certitude, in that moment, she placed in the man standing opposite her.
She was marrying Ian, which meant all was right in the world, for she did not doubt that angels had sent him to her.
Her loom had been broken so that her heart could heal and be filled with love, once again.
After the ceremony, the abbot led them out to the garden where a table had been laid with simple fare.
Together, they ate and laughed. Jo felt a lightness in her heart that she hadn’t known since before fleeing Toonan.
Not only had she found her soul’s true mate, but her heart was no longer plagued with unanswered questions.
Her understanding of why they’d had to flee her home did nothing to lessen her sadness or grief; if anything, she felt it more acutely than ever.
But now it was not clouded by the unknown, and so she could face it plainly.
And as always, she would keep breathing and keep fighting, only now, she could also keep loving.
When the hour to retire arrived, the abbot led them to an empty chamber. He blessed the narrow platform bed before he bade them goodnight. When Ian shut the door behind him, her heart leapt. Her stomach danced. “I’m nervous,” she said breathlessly.
A slow smile curved Ian’s lips. “Don’t be.” He clasped her waist. “’Tis just me, Ian, and ye’re just ye, Jo.”
His words soothed her nerves, releasing her hunger. She pressed her hands to his chest, walking him backward until he had no choice but to sit on the bed. Then she stood in front of him and boldly slid off her clothing, slowly, sensually.
“Ye’re infinitely beautiful,” he breathed, his gaze journeying over her nakedness, his eyes burning with hunger.
She climbed onto him, straggling his lap and flung her head back. His lips claimed her throat, his lips tender, his teeth biting.
With a growl, he suddenly stood and thrust her from him.
In a flash, his clothing was heaped on the floor, and he seized her, kissing her with wild abandon.
She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck.
He lifted her into his arms and laid her on the narrow bed.
His hard body moved over hers. An ache burned deep within her, hot and wild.
She arched her back, her body wanting to be closer.
Her hands rushed over his shoulders, savoring his hard strength.
Then she gasped as his warm breath teased her nipple.
She shivered just as his tongue flicked out, sending currents of pleasure rushing between her thighs.
She groaned, spreading her legs wide. He moved his lips lower, across her quaking stomach to the very heat of her.
Throwing her head back, she cried out. It was more than she could bear.
Ian shifted over her, settling himself between her thighs and swiftly entered her.
Heat blazed through her. She wrapped her legs around his waist. With every thrust, he sank deeper and faster.
She clung to him, squeezing her eyes shut against the mounting agony sweetly building, spiraling, climbing higher and higher.
Then she cried out, the sound mingling with his.
Together, they reached fulfillment, as wave after wave of pleasure racked their bodies.