Two days later advance riders began arriving at Metolius, bringing news that set Aunts Mim and Wynne to scurrying. A large number of guests were coming, they said, though no one seemed to know precisely who they were or exactly how many, but rooms needed to be prepared to accommodate them all and additional stores of food and drink must be stocked.
Mistress Helen received the news of so many unexpected guests almost without comment. She calmed Aunts Mim and Wynne and then set about directing the servants, in her usual bored tone, in making preparations.
Kieran tried to stay out of the way as best he could, spending most of his time either walking about the front courtyard and looking out of the gates, or standing by the tall windows in the great chamber, watching and waiting. He was tempted to sneak out of Metolius in the dead of night and find his way to one of his former haunts in London, the sort of place where information could be bought and sold. Surely one of the scoundrels who frequented such places had heard, during his or her travels, of Glenys or, more likely, Jean-Marc. But Kieran decided not to pursue this plan. For one, it would be a poor return of the Seymours’ kindness to him if he should unwittingly get into some manner of trouble, and for another, he had a feeling that the blasted black cat would follow him, and he didn’t want it—her—making him feel guilty the following day for practicing such guile.
When Glenys finally arrived, it was in such an abrupt manner that Kieran could only stand at the window he’d been gazing out of and stare. She came galloping through the courtyard gates riding atop Nimrod, her hair unbound and flowing behind her, her skirts flying and her expression filled with exuberance and laughter. She slid down from Nimrod’s back without help from the servants, and then ran at once up the stairs toward the entryway doors.
Kieran had sprung into motion by then, and by the time the doors were flung open he was there, catching Glenys up in his arms and crushing her tightly.
“God be praised,” he said, turning about in a full circle, feeling her arms squeezing hard about his neck. “You’re here at last.”
“Oh, Kieran, such a time I’ve—” she started to say, but the moment she pulled her face back to look up at him, he kissed her. And kept kissing her, over and over, until she was gasping for air. She laughed and grinned up at him happily. “I’m sorry I was gone so long. I had much to do.”
“Did you?” he murmured, kissing her again, more gently this time. “I hope it’s all done with, for I plan never to be parted from you again. We’re to be married. Your uncles say so. And so do your aunts. And even your cousin, Helen.”
“I know,” she said, then laughed, bubbling with pure joy. “So does your father. And your mother. And your stepfather. And all your brothers and sisters—you have such a large family! I was worn almost to naught bringing them all together.”
Kieran stared at her. “Together?”
“Aye,” she said, nodding. “They’ll all be here soon. I came ahead because I could not bear to be kept from you any longer.” She reached up and kissed him.
With some difficulty, Kieran pulled away. His head was buzzing. “They’re coming here?” he asked faintly. “All of them?”
“Yes, is that not wonderful? They’ve come for the wedding. And because I wasn’t certain whether Uncle Aonghus could free you from Newgate. I didn’t know then that Daman had turned aside from insisting upon your immediate execution. Your father sent at once a dozen of his finest knights to Newgate to keep you from being hanged, though he wanted to go himself. I wouldn’t let him, of course, for I needed his aid in other matters. He was much relieved when they returned and reported that you’d been released and taken to Metolius, as was I. Oh, Kieran,” she said with even greater enthusiasm, ignoring his attempts to speak, “there was such an unfortunate scene when Daman arrived at your stepfather’s estate. He nearly killed him! Your stepfather nearly did, I mean to say. But your dear sister, Lady Eunice, put herself in front of Daman and reasoned until your stepfather came to his senses. And now— ’tis so wonderful—your sister Elizabet and Daman are betrothed! My aunts will be so pleased!”
Kieran’s head was spinning. He held more tightly on to Glenys to keep from losing his balance.
“Daman and Elizabet are betrothed? But—”
“And so are Jean-Marc and Dina. I’m so sorry that you weren’t present to witness their vows, for I know you would have liked it very much. But your stepfather insisted that it must be done immediately following Daman and Elizabet’s betrothal, for he said he’d had enough foolishness from the both of you, and he’d be damned if he’d let either of you go on in such a feckless manner. We will be present for both weddings, and that will be some measure of recompense, will it not? Oh, Kieran, all has come about so well. We are the most fortunate of all God’s creatures.”
“I am,” he told her, “but do you truly wish to take so great a risk with me, Glenys? I cannot say what manner of husband I will be.” He searched her face intently. “I would not have you regret, in time to come, that you gave yourself to me so fully. I have been a wicked knave all my life, as I’m sure my vast family told you.”
She lifted a hand to cradle his cheek. “They told me only that they love you, and that I will be most fortunate in being your wife. Your father described the estate he had given you in greater detail, as well as all your inheritance. Why did you let me think you so poor, when, in truth, you possess both land and fortune?”
“I began to tell you that last day at Berte’s, for that was all I had to offer of any value—at least you would not think that you must live as the wife of a thief, treading in such wayward places as Berte’s or Bostwick’s.”
“May God forbid it,” Glenys murmured fervently. “I will be content to live with you anywhere, Kieran FitzAllen, but I’ll not raise our children in brothels and taverns.”
Kieran laughed. “Then I think we must do as you have ever done, and spend part of the year at Metolius and the other at Glain Tarran.”
“But what of your own estate, in Derbyshire?”
“I believe I will make a gift of it to Jean-Marc and Dina, if my father will not mind too much.”
“I do not think he will mind anything, now,” she said. “He is very pleased to know that we will be wed. As are your mother and stepfather. Is it not strange that we believed we should not be allowed to wed, yet all who love us are very pleased, indeed? ’Tis like a miracle.”
“Nay,” he said, kissing her, “’tis magic. For how else could a rogue such as I am hope to wed so fine a lady? You’re taking a wretched fellow for a husband, Glenys, but I love you, and will ever do so.”
“As I love you,” she murmured. “And you are not a wretched man, Kieran FitzAllen. Far, far from it. You are the man who took me prisoner and taught me so many wonderful things, and gave me so much happiness. You’re the man who taught me to believe in magic, when I had denied it for so long. Nay, that is not a wretched fellow, but only a rogue and scoundrel and knave—” she smiled up at him, “—and all mine.”
The ardent embrace taking place in the entryway was observed with full approval by Glenys’s aunts and uncles, as well as by her cousin Helen, who wore one of her rare smiles. Outside, the clattering of horses and carriages filled the courtyard as a small army of visitors began to arrive. And yet Kieran and Glenys, entwined in loving embrace, seemed not to hear any of it.
“They are perfect together,” Aunt Mim said, sighing happily. “A most handsome couple.”
“Oh, indeed,” Aunt Wynne agreed. “He is truly the only man for our dearest Glenys. They shall be so happy. I do hope Daman doesn’t find it unbearable that his sister should be the one to continue the line.”
“It could not have been Daman,” said Uncle Aonghus. “He is a very good lad, and we would assuredly have no other in his place, but he is so practical in his nature, far more than Glenys. He would never cherish the old ways, as Kieran will do. I’faith, Kieran is far more suited to what will come than even he knows. He has had many adventures before no
w, but there are many more to unfold.”
“My queen has approved him,” said Uncle Culain. “That is important.”
“Glenys approves of him,” Helen interjected. “That is even more important. He will be good to her,” she added with purring satisfaction. “I only wish that I might find myself so fortunate.”
“You will,” Uncle Aonghus assured her. “In time, my dear. Be patient.”
“That I am,” said she, “above all things. But now the guests come, and Glenys and her betrothed seem not to notice. ’Tis amazing how they manage to breathe in such an ardent embrace. His parents will be shocked to enter Metolius and find them thus.”
“Oh, give them another moment,” begged Aunt Mim. “They are so pretty a sight. ’Tis such a happy ending, is it not, Wynne?”
Aunt Wynne nodded, wiping tears from her eyes, but her brother Aonghus chuckled and said, “’Tis not an ending, my dears, for either Kieran and Glenys or our family. ’Tis but the beginning. And,” he added sagely, “a very good one, too.”
ISBN: 978-1-4603-5999-0
THE PRISONER BRIDE
Copyright © 2001 by Mary Liming
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*The Bride Series
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