Gather the Stars
Page 29
He had already given her so much.
"There," Mama Fee said, with one last brush of her hand. "You look like an angel, you do—the loveliest bride ever to don this gown. I wonder what the boy stitched into the hem. Worked it himself, he did. Not that he could have taken so much as a stitch if I hadn't rescued his spectacles again. Rode off like a demon, forgetting them, just throwing them about, careless as can be. Do you know what verse he wrote there?"
"I promised not to look until he came for me." Rachel flushed, remembering the hot promise in Gavin's eyes, the fierce glow of pride and love.
A sharp rap on the door made Mama Fee start, and they turned to find Adam peeking in the door. "There's a damn impatient bridegroom out here waiting for you, lady," Adam said, tugging at his neckcloth.
Rachel opened the door, and Gavin stood there, resplendent in midnight blue, his frock coat edged with shimmering gold galon, his tawny hair caught back with an ebony ribbon.
"Rachel." He breathed her name, his gaze sweeping from the curls at her crown to the toe of her satin slipper peeking from beneath the hem of her skirt—a slipper torn and muddy from their flight from Furley House, the flight that had opened the door to their future.
Slowly, Gavin came to her, his silvery eyes aglow with love. He knelt, his long fingers scooping up a bit of the hem, turning it so she could read.
The stitches were awkward, long, set by Gavin's own hand, far rougher than the delicate embroidery of the other legends inscribed in the fabric. Yet as Rachel's tear-blurred eyes skimmed what he'd sewn, they burrowed into her heart. And she was certain they must be the most beautiful tribute ever captured by a lover's hand.
So many forgotten dreams I find,
When I gather the stars in your eyes.
—Gavin Carstares, Earl of Glenlyon, to Rachel de Lacey
Tears welled against Rachel's lashes, spilled down her cheeks, her heart unable to contain the love she felt for this remarkable, wise man. Gavin reached up to caress her cheek.
"Tears?" he asked softly, his throat rough with emotion.
"Tears of joy," Rachel breathed. "You taught me how to cry them."
"Do you know what you taught me, my love? After the battles, the bloodshed, I felt as if my soul had been ripped away, stolen, cast into a hell where I could never find it. But you showed me that Sir Dunstan and the others couldn't take what I would not give them; that there could still be beauty; that maybe, just maybe, with your love to give me courage, I could even find a way to forgive myself."
"I love you, Gavin." She twined her arms about his neck, her lips seeking his. "I love you so much." Gavin's mouth took hers with a hunger fierce and tender, wild and wonderful, in a kiss filled with infinite promise.
A sudden gruff sound intruded—Adam cleared his throat. "Do you think you could do that kissing rubbish after you get this wedding over with? Those blasted orphans of yours are taking apart the rigging, and the captain's threatening to throw Barna overboard and feed him to the sharks. I told him the sharks would be the ones in danger, but he wouldn't listen."
Mama Fee swept over to Adam, patting the big man's arm. "You needn't be so crotchety, my dearling. I know that you're jealous of your brother finding his lady-love, but I'm sure you'll find your own bride in time."
Adam backed away as if she'd stuck him with a needle. "Oh, no! Women expect heroes, and there'll be none of this hero drivel for me anymore. I'm done with responsibilities, duty, honor, and all that rot. The instant I strike land, I'm finding myself a keg of brandy, a box of dice, and a bed full of brainless beauties, and I'm never looking back!"
Adam fled in panic, Mama Fee trailing behind him.
Rachel reveled in the sound of Gavin's uproarious laughter, the beauty of it, so rich, so infinitely precious.
Rachel put her hand in his as he led her into the sunshine to take the vows of love that were as old as time.
The Glen Lyon had fought his last battle, won his own war. He had turned the general's daughter into a woman—a woman who could laugh, who could cry, who could love; a woman who saw a hero each time she looked upon his face.
Table of Contents
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20