Chapter 32 #3
“Marin,” Bran said again. He wanted to say her name over and over again, to reassure himself she was here. With him. Alive.
“My father told me the most joyous news.” She beamed up at him in the beatific way he remembered.
“Ena is safe.” Though he said the words, he still did not believe them. He could not until he saw her standing in front of him.
“Aye.” Marin held out her hand and he took it. “She will be safe with us as well, for father is giving us a castle near the sea that once belonged to my mother.”
He gently drew his arms around her, fearful of causing her pain.
She was sweet and precious in his hold, the way he remembered.
Her head came to rest on his chest, and he found himself stroking the silky length of her hair before he realized what he was doing.
He wanted to touch all of her, to ensure himself this moment was real and not yet another dream.
He'd had too damn many of those. They'd been so vivid, each time he'd rushed from his chamber, sure he would find her sitting up and fully recovered. Once he'd found she had developed a fever instead, and he sat with her the two days it took to finally loosen its grip on her hot, reddened cheeks.
“I thought I'd lost ye, Marin.” His voice clogged with emotion.
“When I realized that battered lass on the ground was ye.” He gritted his teeth to fight for control.
“There were so many times after. When ye became so still on the way here, when I saw the extent of yer injuries, when ye developed a fever. And all the while, even as I feared losing ye, I could never regret having let myself love ye.”
“I love you with all my heart, Bran.”
“Ach, I know it.” He closed his eyes and reveled in the feel of her in his arms. “A wee bit too much, judging by yer attempt to try to find me. It was reckless and impulsive and—”
“You would have done the same for me,” she said against his chest.
“Aye.” The love he had for her was so great, it welled in his throat and made his voice tight. “I would do anything for ye.”
“With good fortune, neither of us should face such circumstances to save the other again.”
He stared down at her and imagined her in their new life. In a castle where the land was safe, and the border territory was only a distant memory.
“What are you thinking?” she pulled her head from his chest and glanced up at him.
“I'm wondering what our life will be like together in our castle.” He ran his thumb over her cheek where the discolored bruise was fading to a deep yellow. “And I wonder what ye want out of our life.”
“What do you mean?”
“Ye've never thought about what ye want, Marin. Ye've always done for others.” He let his thumb brush over her lower lip. “This is our life and I want ye to think of yerself for once.”
She smiled. “I have what I want.”
“But there is more. Ye could take up gardening.” He kissed her gently. “Ye could swim out in the sea like a selkie.” He kissed her now-smiling mouth. “We could have children.”
“Aye,” she breathed. “Children.” The simple word made her smile with wonder at the idea of having her own, ones who looked like a perfect mix between her and Bran. A sweet babe to cradle in her arms, as she had with Leila all those years ago.
“We should try for them soon.” She slid a coy look up at him.
“When ye’re healed,” he replied gruffly.
Her fingers ran down his chest to his abdomen. “We can stay in our chambers late every morning and retire early every night. Mayhap even in the afternoon.”
“The afternoon?” He dropped his jaw with exaggerated shock. “Ach, next thing ye’ll be suggesting is Friday, or some other day not sanctioned for copulation.”
Her brow quirked upward like a shameless flirt. “Every last day of the week.”
He held her face in his hands and kissed her, so glad to have her safe and in his arms, and so eager to see what their new life would bring them. If nothing else, he knew there would be passion and love and happiness.
“Bran.” A familiar voice called his name from the doorway.
He froze. Ena. He released Marin and spun around to find his sister rushing toward him. Her long dark hair was bound back, and her slender face was clean. She did not appear to have any bruises indicating beating, or other signs of misuse.
He took his sister in his arms. She squeezed him with impossible strength. “Ye saved me.” She released him and blinked back tears. “My Renault will be joining us soon.”
She glanced around Bran. “Is this Marin?”
Marin smiled. “Aye. It is good to meet you after all this time, Ena.”
“Thank ye, my lady.” Ena bobbed an uncomfortable curtsy.
“Marin,” Marin corrected. “Please. We are sisters and there is no greater joy in all the world than a sister.”
“Mayhap a brother.” Ena grinned at Bran, then back at Marin. “Or mayhap even love.”
“Or mayhap children.” Bran reached for Marin’s hand while he held his sister’s shoulders secure in his right arm.
Regardless of where the love came from, or whether the person was noble or poor, they all found wealth in joy. And Bran knew himself to be the richest man in all the world.