Till There Was You

  She leaned close. “Buck up.”

  He looked at her in surprise. “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  He smiled at her briefly, then no doubt suppressed the urge to sigh.

  He had to do that last bit several times. His father gave an accounting of his education and funds, then Jamie made a great production of describing an inheritance he’d apparently been trying to give Zachary for years. Patrick gave him all he said he deserved, which was a horse. Cameron very solemnly doubled his salary.

  “I’m going to kill them all,” Zachary muttered under his breath. “For various reasons.”

  “Do it later,” she advised. “And hold on.”

  He looked at her, startled. “Why?”

  “Kendrick hasn’t begun yet.”

  “Hell,” he managed. “Can I sit down during it?”

  “You can’t and don’t swear in church.”

  He took a deep breath. “All right.”

  “Meet him in the lists later.” Mary turned and watched her brother. He stepped up beside her and looked at the priest.

  “Make certain your scribe takes this down correctly,” he said imperiously.

  The saints pity the poor lad, he didn’t dare not.

  “My father has dowered my sister with things that I’ll keep private so the taxman doesn’t take most of them on her way out the door,” Kendrick said with a grumble, “but I’ll name what I’ll see she brings to the union.”

  Zachary opened his mouth to speak—to protest, no doubt—but Mary squeezed his hand, hard. He muttered instead what she was certain was another curse under his breath.

  “In coin, she brings enough for several years of hay, grain, and other particulars suitable to her horse madness,” Kendrick began seriously, “as well as enough to see to restoring that wreck she demanded I give her.”

  Mary looked up at Zachary because she couldn’t not watch his reaction.

  “Wreck?” he echoed.

  She only smiled.

  “And along with the wreck,” Kendrick continued, “she will bring the title of countess. Her husband will wear the title of earl. Because I was told I had to buy that for him as well,” he said not fully under his breath.

  Zachary’s mouth fell open. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Wyckham, lad,” Kendrick said with not the slightest trace of a smirk on his face. “Or, I should say, Your Lordship. You didn’t think I was going to let my sister live in a tent on the shore, did you?”

  “I just want to know where my title is,” Zachary’s father muttered loudly enough for most of the company to hear.

  Mary couldn’t take her eyes off Zachary. He had expected to be forced to take her gold she knew, but this ... aye, this was something he hadn’t expected. He dragged his free hand through his hair, then looked at Kendrick.

  “Why?”

  “Because you love my sister.”

  Mary found her love then looking at her.

  “Wyckham?” he managed.

  “Because you love it,” she said softly. “And because Uncle Nicholas would trust you with it, just as my father has trusted you with me. If I might make that comparison.”

  He shook his head briefly. “How did you manage it?”

  She leaned close. “I took Kendrick out in the lists and ran over him with my horse.”

  A smile tugged at his mouth. “You didn’t.”

  “Actually, I didn’t. I used his horse. As for the other, ’twas all because of you, of course. He saw what you did with your brother’s keep at Falconberg. And he knew you’d seen the original Wyckham and would care for it properly.”

  Zachary put his arm around her waist, pressed a kiss against her temple, then reached around her and shook Kendrick’s hand. “Thank you, my lord,” he said quietly.

  “You’re welcome, er, my lord.” Kendrick rolled his eyes. “I cannot believe my sister has forced that little bit of deference upon me for the rest of your days.” He shot Zachary a look. “I suppose I should admit that the cottage is yours as well. ’Twill give you someplace to lay your head until you’ve finished the keep, though I can’t guarantee you won’t have visitors from time to time. And if you say this is the best thing that happened to you today, I will take you out in the lists and kill you.”

  Zachary laughed, then reached out to steady the priest. Mary found him then looking down at her.

  “It isn’t the best thing,” he said quietly.

  “But ’tis a good thing,” she said, just as quietly.

  “Only because there are many, many darkened corners there,” he said with a smile, “and a fine hall to dance in.”

  “You sound like my uncle Nicholas.”

  “He’s my inspiration.”

  Mary understood.

  She signed the appropriate document when asked, agreed to the appropriate pledges and promises, then found herself pulled into her husband’s arms and kissed very sweetly for her trouble.

  “Cam,” Sunny whispered gingerly, “we need to go. Mary and Zachary, congratulations.”

  Cameron patted them both, then leapt across the chapel, swept his wife up into his arms, and strode from the chapel with her. Madelyn ran after her, her daughter in her arms. Patrick clapped a hand on Zachary’s shoulder.

  “Have a nice life. Mary, best of luck with him.”

  Mary watched the chapel empty as children piled out to see the helicopter take off and adults left to supervise. Indeed, she was more than happy to simply close her eyes and stand there with her husband’s arms around her. In time, she lifted her head and smiled up at him.

  “Well?” she asked.

  “Alone at last,” he said, then he bent his head and kissed her.

  “Supper’s being prepared,” a voice said loudly from the doorway.

  Zachary lifted his head and shot her brother an even look. “Beat it.”

  Kendrick only laughed and walked away.

  Mary looked up at Zachary and found she couldn’t stop a slightly giddy laugh. “Well?”

  “You went house hunting with me for a solid fortnight, Maryanne Smith.”

  “I couldn’t tell you.”

  “How long have you known?”

  “Since Rex’s first night here. I went home with Kendrick and told him what he was going to do.”

  “You’re intimidating.”

  “There’s a lesson there for you, I imagine.”

  He reached up and lifted off the circlet of silver, then set it aside with her veil. Then he bent his head and kissed the spot just behind her ear.

  “Keep you appeased at all times is that lesson, I imagine.”

  “Don’t start that.”

  He lifted his head and took a deep breath. “I likely shouldn’t, should I?”

  “Nay, my lord, you shouldn’t. But you should come dance with me. And then please let us leave before midnight.”

  “Midnight?” he echoed incredulously.

  She laughed and walked away. “That was a jest, Zachary. Let’s go have something to eat.” She looked over her shoulder at him. “Are you going to tell me now where we’re going on our honeymoon?”

  He shook his head with a smile as he caught up to her. “I have my own set of secrets, you know.”

  “I know most of them.”

  “Love, you know all of them. Except the one concerning our destination tonight, but you’ll find out that one eventually.”

  It was sunset before she found herself in the car with her husband, driving to a place he wouldn’t tell her. She realized, after a bit, that she suspected where he might be going. But considering the keep didn’t have a roof, she supposed she might be looking at a rather soggy night.

  She leaned her head back against the seat and watched Zachary as he drove. He had his fingers curled around one of her hands that rested on his leg, but he was focused on getting them through the rain. She listened to the windscreen wipers, periodically watched the raindrops as they beaded up against the sunroof, but mostly she just watched
her husband and marveled that he was hers. Then again, she’d been doing that for most of the afternoon.

  It had been a perfect day. Their afternoon had been spent with their families, celebrating, eating, and dancing. She had found herself welcomed easily into his family, without even so much as a flicker of hesitation. His father had looked at her closely a time or two, but she supposed he would find out soon enough what her birthdate was. She supposed she could thank her sister-in-law Margaret for having seasoned them so well for her.

  Lord Edward and his wife, Helen, had gone out of their way to make her feel like a daughter. They had been gracious and generous with not only their time but their substance. The celebration was certainly equal to what she would have seen at Artane in her day. The only difference was the water had been drinkable and she’d known she had jeans to look forward to at some point during the evening.

  Zachary pulled into Wyckham’s car park and turned the car off. She watched as the last rays of the sun burst suddenly through the clouds and stained the castle a pale gold.

  “Beautiful,” she breathed.

  “Aye, you are.”

  She realized Zachary was watching her. “You’re missing the sunset.”

  “But looking at my future.”

  She smiled and leaned over to kiss him. “Thank you for making me a part of it.”

  “You are it,” he said. He tucked her hair behind her ear and smiled at her. “Do you mind Wyckham for your honeymoon?”

  “Are we camping in the great hall?”

  “No, I rented the cottage for five hundred quid a night.”

  She gaped at him. “Kendrick didn’t charge you that.”

  “He did and he laughed uproariously while he was at it,” Zachary said. “I thought it would be as close as we ever got to the place, so I couldn’t say no.”

  “He’s a mercenary.”

  “I think he would agree.” He kissed her hand, then smiled at her. “Wait for me and I’ll come get you.”

  “You have before.”

  “It was the very best doorway I ever stepped through, believe me.”

  Mary waited until he’d opened her door for her, then she ran with him to the cottage. He opened it, then picked her up in his arms and carried her through the doorway. She sat down on the sofa and watched him make a fire in the hearth. She hadn’t allowed herself to think about her life overmuch during the past pair of fortnights, but now that Zachary was safely hers, she indulged in it freely.

  It was nothing short of a miracle that at a score and seven she now found herself wed to a man who prized her for who she was and what she loved, a man who was the equal of her brothers and cousins in wit and canniness, a man who hadn’t been afraid to pass whatever tests her father had set for him.

  And a man who built a very nice fire indeed.

  He brushed his hands off, then looked at her from where he knelt next to the hearth. “We could light the stove as well, if you’re cold. It’s ready to go.”

  She tilted her head to look at him. “Were you here before?”

  “Yesterday,” he admitted, “with your brother. He came with me ostensibly to chop wood, but what happened was he made me not only chop but conjugate all sorts of obscure Norman French verbs while he sat on his sorry arse with his feet up and watched.”

  She rested her chin on her fists and smiled. “What words did you practice?”

  He smiled and walked over to her on his knees. “Very useful ones, actually. After I finished with all the verbs he was interested in—most of them having to do with death and mayhem—I began with to hold, then moved fairly quickly on to to kiss, followed by to touch.”

  She felt slightly warmer than she should have, no doubt. “And then?”

  “And then I asked him for a direct idiomatic translation of come here, wench, and let me carry you to my bed where I’ll keep you captive for at least a fortnight, with brief respites for food and hot showers.”

  She laughed in spite of herself. “I’m slightly surprised he didn’t come after you for that.”

  “I was the one with the axe.”

  She put her arms around his neck and smiled into his very lovely sea-colored eyes. “Let me hear those conjugations you worked so diligently on whilst providing me with fuel for a superior fire.”

  “Why don’t I show you them instead?”

  She couldn’t have agreed more. He was making serious inroads into doing just that when a draft began to irritate her. She managed to look over to the threshold to find the door ajar.

  “Zachary, the door is open.”

  He looked blearily in that direction, then back at her. He took her hands, kissed both palms in an appallingly lingering fashion, then pushed himself to his feet. “Don’t move.”

  “I’m not sure I can.”

  He laughed uneasily then walked over to the door, not precisely steady on his feet, either. She could have sworn she saw something standing there just on the other side of the threshold, perhaps a man dressed in a plaid with a long sword hanging at his side. For all she knew, there might have been two or three such men with sharp blades and fierce miens.

  He husband shut the door firmly, then bolted it for good measure.

  And then he wooed her to his bed in her own language where she found that conjugations of obscure verbs was not the only thing he was very good at.

  Several hours later, she watched Zachary by the light of the candle on the nightstand. She supposed he slept, though she wasn’t sure she dared. She might have missed an opportunity to watch him, else.

  Her father had told her that day in the lists that all he’d wanted for her was the opportunity to be a wife and a mother. She supposed he’d never considered that she might find that sort of happiness hundreds of years away from where he had, one by one, turned away dozens of men who had come to vie for her hand.

  Who would have thought that the last one would be the one worth waiting for?

  She closed her eyes, because she simply couldn’t keep them open any longer. Zachary’s arms were still around her, keeping her safe just the same.

  Her father would have approved.

  Epilogue

  Z achary Smith stood on the edge of the great hall, looked up at the perfect Norman arch that spanned from one side to the other, and came to a conclusion.

  He was more fortunate than any man had the right to be.

  He smoothed down the front of his medieval tunic, then folded his arms over his chest and looked out over the festivities. His guests were celebrating both the finish of Wyckham’s remodel and the christening of his firstborn child. He imagined the present company didn’t look any different from the original party to celebrate Wyckham’s first major remodel and the many christenings to happen there. The guests were dressed in medieval gear, musicians on period instruments entertained the guests, and a steady stream of surprisingly authentic food came from the kitchen to be laid on the lord’s table so the dancers could shore up their strength.

  The guest list had been varied and extensive. Two of his three brothers were in attendance with their families, all of his brothers-in-law on his side, and a very large contingent from Artane and Seakirk were there as well. Mary’s great-great-nephew William had come along with his wife, Julianna, to provide much of the authenticity, given that their business was running reenactment tours. William had, as his clients would admit, a knack for setting just the right medieval sort of tone.

  Zachary understood completely.

  He watched the dancers swirling in the light from torches and hearthfire and allowed himself a bit of reflection on the past year and a half of his life.

  Or, the past seventeen months. The first month of his marriage to Mary de Piaget had been filled with such an abundance of bliss and pleasure that he hadn’t been able to tell the days apart. They had happily ensconced themselves in that little cottage outside Wyckham’s walls and done little besides attend very diligently to their marriage, less diligently to her horses in the hastily built
stable Kendrick had seen to for them, and only in desperation to other necessities such as food.

  Bliss, indeed.

  He counted himself just as fortunate once their extended honeymoon had been over and Mary had turned out to be just as enthusiastic about the Trust’s projects as he was. They had spent months looking for and working on things that suited them both. But they’d also devoted an equal amount of time to restoring Wyckham, especially given that Mary had been particularly determined to see their first child born inside castle walls.

  “I’m confused.”

  Zachary looked next to him to find his father standing there looking, well, confused. “About what, Dad?”

  “The vintage of some of these people,” Robert Smith said with a perplexed frown. “That William de Piaget is very good at organizing his team, I’ll give you that, but I think some of his bench is batting for the other side. The medieval side, if you know what I mean.”

  Zachary didn’t dare speculate. “Dad—”

  “Son, did I ever ask you what you did with most of your weekends over the past almost twelve years? With that terrifying son-in-law of mine?”

  “You didn’t,” Zachary said with a smile, “so don’t start now. You won’t like the answers.”

  “I already know the answers, Zachary,” Robert said with a snort. “I’m just thinking it was time you settled down.”

  “I have. I’m finished with all that paranormal business.”

  “I hate to say this, son, but never say never.”

  Zachary shook his head. “Not a chance. Besides, Jamie’s been taking Derrick Cameron on his adventures for months now. I have other things to do with my time.”

  “Well, your bride would be inducement enough to keep on the right side of the field, I imagine.” He paused and looked at Mary speculatively. “1250,” he announced.