“Thank you,” Violet said with a smile.
“Are you feelin’ more the thing?”
Violet’s eyes rounded. “You know about me?”
Mrs. O’Grady winked in Luke’s direction. “Master Luke was worried about you when he came home last, sprite. You and your sister, both.”
Brianna felt the warmth, knew that this woman was as close to Luke as a mother would be.
“You’ll help us then, Mrs. O’Grady?” Luke asked.
“Aye, though the lass don’t need many fripperies to be a fittin’ bride.”
Brianna’s shoulders eased. This woman’s good opinion would go far to ease
Brianna’s mind. If only Luke’s family could accept her as easily as this kindly woman.
Mrs. O’Grady clicked her tongue as she turned to Brianna. “But we don’t have much time to get ready.”
Luke gave a nod. “I’ll leave you ladies to your preparations, then.”
Mrs. O’Grady waved an absent hand as Luke took his leave. “Now, to find a
proper dress.”
Brianna stood still as the woman spanned her waist, her shoulders, and her legs.
“One of the MacGregor girls would be just your size, I wager. And I’m sure one
of the Meath children would be happy to lend a dress to our sprite here.” She placed her hands on her hips. “You two go into Master Luke’s room. You’ll find clean water in the basin and fresh toweling. The girl what looks after the place has kept it ready for him.”
“Thank you, Mrs. O’Grady.” Brianna took one of the woman’s busy hands in her.
“For everything.”
Mrs. O’Grady patted Brianna’s hand. “‘Tis nothin’, lass. Master Luke loves you.
Seamus said so.”
Brianna’s heart skipped. “Luke’s uncle? He… he said that?”
Mrs. O’Grady smiled. “Aye. And I saw the way Master Luke looked at you and the sprite. You be part of the family already.”
Violet clapped her hands together and Brianna felt herself ease a little more.
By the time she’d washed her face and run Luke’s brush through her hair,
Brianna’s nerves were humming again. The crystal still tucked in her pocket was vibrating gently, as if happy to be here in Luke’s dell. She decided to take that as a positive sign and tamped down her apprehensions while she brushed Violet’s shining hair. Her sister really did seem healthy again, her cheeks pink and her eyes bright as she chattered on about the dell, Mrs. O’Grady and the coming wedding.
“Luke’s brother Patrick has a nice smile,” Violet said.
Brianna found that interesting, since the man hadn’t smiled in her direction. She could only imagine what Luke was going through now, breaking the news to the rest of the family. “Yes, love. I hope we see more of it.”
Chapter 24
Luke sat at the table in Seamus’s kitchen, his hands wrapped around a mug of ale.
Icy from the cold box, it soothed his throat. He was dreading the talk with his brothers, but knew there was no way out of it. They both sat with him, their gazes probing.
“Have you seen Uncle?” Sean asked finally.
“Nay.” Luke shook his head and took another drink. “I can’t bear to see him as he was before.”
Sean nodded, his eyes sad. “He’s not good, brother. He kept talking about you after you left. About your Pixie.”
Luke straightened. “He did? About Brianna?”
Sean shrugged. “Aye, though he didn’t use her name.”
“I’m marrying her today, Sean.”
“Patrick told me.”
Luke waited for that flash of anger so often on Patrick’s face. Sean didn’t look angry, though. Just scared. As for Patrick, he just glowered from his place across the table.
“I can imagine what else Patrick told you,” Luke grumbled.
“So you haven’t checked on Uncle Seamus since you’ve been back?” Patrick
asked.
“I can’t.” Luke glanced at Sean, but that brother had his gaze locked on the table.
“Patrick, if he’s back to the way he was… Gone, like that. I can’t bear it.”
Patrick took a breath and sat. “Aye.”
Luke had to bridge this distance. He and Patrick were too close for Luke to allow a breach, not when he was about to begin his new life with Brianna.
“’Twill be all right, brother,” Luke said.
The fear in Patrick’s eyes shocked him. With Sean he’d seen it, as clear as the morning sun. Patrick’s anger was always there. This fear, though? “I believe he’ll mend.”
“You can’t be knowin’ that!” Patrick dragged a hand across his face. “What if we lose him, Luke?”
Without a thought, Luke grabbed his brother’s hand. Patrick clung to him, his shoulders shaking with unshed tears.
“We won’t, brother,” Luke said. “I won’t let that happen.”
Patrick pulled back. “How you be doin’ that, pray?”
Sean lifted his head, hope clear on his face. Ah, God.
“Uncle Seamus spoke of love, Patrick,” Luke said. “I don’t know what it means, but I had to risk it.”
“You love the Pixie?” Patrick asked.
Sean’s gaze was as intent as Patrick’s was as they waited for Luke’s answer.
“Aye.”
Patrick gave a nod and sat back. “Aye,” he answered.
“And you think this Pixie can save Uncle Seamus?” Sean asked. “How?”
“I don’t know.” Luke pushed away from the table and stood. “But I be needing a best man.”
Patrick eyed him. “And?”
“Stand up with me, brother?” Luke asked.
Patrick didn’t hesitate with his agreement. He stood and wrapped Luke in a hug.
Sean laughed softly, the sound short but there nonetheless.
Luke pulled back and grinned. “Come, Patrick. Come, Sean. We have to get ready for my wedding.”
When Luke arrived at the empty chapel, the sun was slanting through the stained
glass windows set deep in the thick walls. The women of the dell must have heard of the ceremony, no doubt from Mrs. O’Grady. Most of them were near his uncle’s age and had looked after Luke and his brothers while the boys were growing. Some of them had no doubt seen to placing pink and yellow flowers at the altar and white ribbons at the ends of the hand-rubbed wooden pews. They’d tied the largest bow on the front pew, the one designated for his family. Family. Luke’s heart sank at the thought. He wished they could all be there today, his fine parents and his uncle, sane, whole, and healthy.
He tugged on his cravat and braced one foot on the nearest pew to buff away a smudge on his boot with his thumb. Fine MacDonald boots, he thought as he glimpsed his reflection in the black polished leather. ‘Twas true, they weren’t sneakers. And true, the shirt was a far cry from the soft flannels he’d worn in Indianapolis. As much as he missed his comfortable modern clothes, it felt good to be in his own once more. Right.
Fitting.
He wondered how Brianna fared. If she was as nervous as he was. Mrs. O’Grady had returned to Uncle Seamus’s house with the suit of clothes Luke now wore, telling him he couldn’t see his bride-to-be before the ceremony. She’d assured him the lass was fine, but until Luke saw Brianna’s face his heart wouldn’t be at ease. As for his uncle…
Luke couldn’t think about him without that hollow ache in his heart, deep in his belly. Sean would bring him into the chapel, to at least be present at the wedding if he wasn’t aware of it. Again, that stab of longing struck Luke.
Sean entered the chapel then, alone. His fine clothes were rumpled and his face red. Luke’s pulse tripped.
“What’s wrong, brother?”
Sean’s black brows snapped together. “Uncle Seamus be quite agitated, Luke.”
Luke’s stomach lurched. “Pray, bring him here, Sean. I want him to see my
wedding.”
“Aye.” Sean
sniffed as he wiped his nose on the back of one hand. “Though I don’t know what he’ll see of it.”
With his shoulders slumped, Sean left the chapel. Luke shifted from foot to foot as he waited for the priest to arrive. He wondered how Mrs. O’Grady had dressed his bride. He had little trouble imagining Brianna looking anything short of spectacular, and it didn’t matter if she’d dressed her in the finest gown or in a simple walking dress. Lord knew he loved how she looked in her jeans and T-shirt. Or in her silky chemise. He smiled to himself. Or in nothing at all.
Patrick entered the chapel, dressed in finery though his face bore little excitement for the coming event. At least he’d agreed to stand up with Luke, as a brother should. A smile would be most welcome, but Luke wouldn’t hold his breath. It would have to be enough that Patrick stood beside him, stoically giving his presence if not his true support.
Movement at the door to the chapel drew Luke’s notice from his stone-faced brother, and he turned fully to watch as Sean helped a frail Uncle Seamus down toward the altar. Seamus didn’t seem to be aware of his surroundings, his eyes downcast and his face slack. His feet shuffled over the wooden floor as Sean supported nearly all of his weight. Here, in the chapel where they so often attended Mass, his uncle looked even less himself than he had in the familiar surroundings of his home. Luke kept his shoulders straight and held his trembling hands behind his back as Sean and Seamus settled in the front pew.
Luke’s attention was drawn to the back doors again as a flurry of activity took place. In a flutter of skirts, the women of the dell rushed into the chapel. Chattering and laughing, they preceded the men and the little place was soon full of hopeful well-wishers. Winks and smiles came from these people who had seen Luke grow up, had
comforted him when his parents died and had helped Uncle Seamus keep an eye on the three boys as they’d run through the dell.
Sean’s eyes brightened a bit as the lively murmurs and laughter filled the chapel, but he never gave up his hold on an oblivious Seamus. Patrick stiffened beside Luke.
“Luke,” he heard Patrick whisper.
He looked at Patrick, who leaned his head toward the entrance. Violet entered, a pretty day dress of pink turning her into the Faery sprite she was. Her shining hair was done in long curls held back from her little face. She beamed a smile at Luke as she neared, and Luke grinned at his soon-to-be sister. Settling in the front pew beside Seamus, she swung her legs back and forth with excitement. She reached for Seamus and touched his hand. Luke thought he saw a spark of something in the old man’s eyes, recognition or… something. Then Violet turned away from him to stare at the door and Luke followed her gaze. Framed in the doorway was his own Pixie. His Brianna.
Everything faded from notice as she stepped toward him.
* * *
Brianna nearly lost her footing as her eyes met Luke’s. The little old ladies of Meath had taken evident pleasure in seeing her ready for her wedding after Mrs. O’Grady brought her the borrowed dress. One of them had styled her hair in a charming chignon, using flowers and pearls to dress her gold locks. And she couldn’t deny that the satin gown, in a lovely shade of pale blue that matched the crystal key tied around her wrist by a brand new ribbon, made her feel as if she could’ve lived in the past. Or the present? She gave a shake of her head and focused on the man waiting for her near the altar. It would all work out. He had promised. And she had his word.
Luke was dressed as fine as she had ever seen: a black jacket topped pants tucked into shining boots, a crisp white shirt and neck cloth beneath a vest of green finished his
outfit. He was gorgeous and he would soon be hers. Again. A smile teased her lips.
Forever.
A little gray-haired priest soon stood beside Luke and his merry eyes helped ease some of her worry as she neared the altar. Luke’s brother Patrick stood with him, and he regarded her with solemn blue eyes. Bloody wonderful.
Violet beamed at her from her place in the front pew and Brianna returned her sister’s smile. Then she saw him, the reason for all of this. Seated next to a dark-haired young man who could only be Luke’s other brother was Seamus MacDonald, frail and haggard, his red hair lank and unkempt. Vacant eyes stared at nothing she could see and her throat tightened. When Luke took her hand and turned her toward the priest, she could focus on nothing but speaking the vows that bound her forever to her Braunach.
The ceremony was a blur, words repeated as the priest instructed, vows given and accepted. As she kissed her husband she heard applause as if from far away.
Luke lifted his head and grinned. “I love you, Brianna.”
Brianna felt like singing. “I love you, Luke.”
Luke turned her toward his brother Patrick. Patrick took her hand and kissed it, bowing low. Brianna gave a curtsey as she’d always seen the ladies do in those Regency dramas on PBS, and Luke smiled his surprise and approval.
Luke took her hand then and tugged her close. “I want you to meet my uncle, lass.”
Brianna looked at Seamus again, seeing little but the shell of the man he must have once been. She felt Luke’s pain deep in her own heart. This was because of her.
Because of the stolen gold.
“I would love to meet him, Luke,” she managed to say.
They approached the pew and Luke’s youngest brother hugged the old man’s
shoulders.
“Here’s Luke, Uncle,” he said. “And his bonny bride, Brianna.”
Seamus smiled, still gazing at a spot somewhere beyond the altar. Sean released his uncle as Luke and Brianna came closer, and Luke took his brother’s place beside Seamus.
“I brought her back, Uncle,” Luke said. “‘The Pixie what stole my heart.’ Like you said.”
The man blinked, and it seemed to Brianna as if his green gaze cleared. He looked at her and she felt his affection for her. How could that be? Luke eased his uncle to his feet. Seamus held out one shaking hand toward her and she felt his pull. She suspected he had been as charming as Luke in his day. She took his hand and he smiled. It was so different from the vacant expression he had worn when she first saw him, his face now shining.
“Lass?” he asked, his voice hesitant. “Ah, you look like her.”
Brianna felt the key at her wrist begin to tremble, the new ribbon tugging her skin as it jumped. She leaned closer and dropped a kiss on the man’s rough cheek. He smelled like clover and fresh water, scents she’d already come to associate with this Braunach dell.
To her surprise, Seamus straightened and stood on his own feet, seeming to grow before her eyes as he stood straight before her.
“Brianna?” she heard Luke say beside her.
She took Luke’s hand and stood closer to him. It was magic. Her magic. Maybe even their magic, hers and Luke’s. Whatever it was, it was obvious Luke’s uncle was healing before her eyes!
“Ah, children,” Seamus beamed at Brianna and she again felt the love she’d
glimpsed when he first looked at her. “Ah, Pixie!”
Seamus hugged Brianna, his arms strong and sure. She could feel his love for her.
For life. She looked at Luke, who shrugged his shoulders.
His eyes glistened as he swallowed thickly. “Uncle Seamus, I don’t—”
“‘Tis love, Luke,” the man said. He covered Brianna and Luke’s joined hands and gave a shout of delight at the chapel ceiling. “Love will keep you when all else is gone.”
Chapter 25
Luke could hardly believe his eyes. Seamus was as he had been before, strong, tall, and bright. Luke could feel the power pass between their three joined hands, love and magic flowing from Brianna and through the two Braunach like a rainbow through the sky.
He glanced at his brothers and saw their amazement. Hope was there, aye. And confusion that mirrored Luke’s own. He felt a laugh bubble in his throat. ‘Twas true, amazing though it was. Their love had healed Seamus!
“But how, Uncle?” Luke asked. “I thought your go
ld was the key.”
“The key?” Seamus laughed. “‘Tis fitting, boy.”
Luke blinked in confusion.
Seamus grabbed Brianna’s key where it still hung at her wrist. “‘Tis the crystal, boy. The crystal and the amber together.”
Luke felt the amber throb at his throat, vibrate as if it wanted to be free of its bounds. He tore off his neck cloth and closed his hand around the stone. With one tug, he snapped the leather holding the amber close to his throat and held the pendant out in front of him. His uncle gently untied Brianna’s key from her wrist, dropping her a wink as he did so. Oh, the man was well indeed. His charm was back as sure as his wits. Seamus took the amber from Luke’s fingers and fitted the crystal key into the center of the stone.
In a blinding flash, the key began to disappear into the amber.
They stared as the key melted into the amber, as pink, white, and blue light filled the chapel. At last the stone glowed golden and Seamus held it aloft. It twirled on the leather cord, as last dimming to its usual amber shade. Seamus gave a nod of satisfaction, tied it around his own neck, and placed his hands on his hips.
At last, Luke found his voice. “You’re… you’re well, Uncle? Whole?”
“Aye, my lad!” He looked fondly at Brianna before grinning in Luke’s direction.
“And ‘twas love what saved me, not our gold.”
Luke’s brothers stood and approached their small circle, and when Luke heard the happy chatter from the pews, he realized the place had gone quiet from the moment Luke’s and Brianna’s and Seamus’s hand had joined.
“Love?” Patrick said. “The love between you and the Pixie did all this?”
Sean smiled, a bright expression Luke hadn’t seen on his youngest brother’s face in months. “Aye, Patrick. Love. Can you fathom that?”
Luke laughed. The power of their love was something Luke had felt from when he first saw her in the coffee shop. To heal? To take what was weak and frail and make it strong again?
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