Joanna's Highlander (Highland Protector #2)(56)
Joanna sat up straighter. Her lips parted, cheeks flushed, and eyes flared wide. “What are you doing?”
“What I shouldha done some time ago.” Grant fished the royal-blue velvet pouch out of the inside pocket of the leather vest he’d worn over his léine and emptied it into his hand. He stared down at the precious piece of jewelry for a long moment, gathering his courage for what he was about to do.
“When MacDara men choose a wife—and the union is fully blessed by the Heartstone and the goddesses—we give our women a brooch of Scottish agate placed in a silver setting forged by the goddess Bride herself.” He took Joanna’s hand, turned it palm side up, then placed the pin in it along with a silent prayer. “Ye ken how much I love ye. Tell me ye’ll be my wife, Joanna, so I can spend the rest of m’life with ye at my side.”
Joanna stared down at the pin, motionless. Grant watched her so closely he couldna even tell if the lass was breathin’. The longer she sat without responding, the worse he felt. Lore a’mighty. What will I do if she refuses?
“Married?” she finally whispered, the fingers of one hand trembling, pressed to her mouth while her other hand slowly moved the pin in the sunlight to set its rich iridescent colors to dancing.
“Aye, m’love. Marry me.” He didna add the silent please running over and over in his mind. He prayed he wouldna have to.
Joanna shifted, made an indiscernible sound, then curled her fingers around the precious bit of jewelry and gripped it so tightly her fingers lost their color. She looked up at him and smiled.
“Was that a yes?” She’d made a bit of noise that couldha been that precious word, but he couldna tell what the hell the woman had said for certain.
She barely nodded. If he hadna been staring at her face, he wouldha missed that too.
“For God’s sake, woman, tell me loud and true so I can hear the words and ken yer wishes for certain. Yer killin’ me, ye are.”
Joanna leaned forward, tucking her fisted hands under her chin and bringing her face to within barely an inch of his. “Yes, Grant MacDara. I will marry you. I said yes.”
Grant lunged forward, grabbed her up off the bleacher, and spun around with her in his arms. “The woman said yes!” Head thrown back and face upturned to the heavens, he roared at the top of his lungs, then spun around again. “She said yes!”
Scattered clusters of parents and friends of Tyler’s team and the opposing team they’d just beaten that still remained on the bleachers clapped and stomped their feet until the aluminum seating rattled like thunder.
Joanna framed his face with her hands and kissed him, then wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed.
My wife. She said she’d be m’wife. Gently, Grant lowered her to her feet, reluctant to release her from his hold. It had been such a long time since he’d felt such joy. “We must celebrate. A fine cèilidh with all the clans. We can announce the wedding date then.”
“A fine what?” Joanna gave him a confused look. “Is whatever you just said Scottish for engagement party or something?”
Grant did his best not to laugh. A fine matched set, m’lady and I. I’ll teach her about a Scot’s past and she can teach me about this future. “The word cèilidh is Scots Gaelic for a social gathering or celebration. A party, aye? We’ll unleash Esme. She loves plannin’ such things and fancies herself as quite the authority on all things social.”
“I bet she does.” Joanna waved for Lucia and Taggart to hurry over, holding the brooch aloft in one hand and giving another thumbs-up with the other. As Lucia and Taggart headed their way, she turned back to Grant. “Lucia will probably want to help. Esme would be okay with that—right?”
“Aye and for sure. Esme would welcome the help.” Grant laughed and felt the knots of tension in his shoulders melt and disappear. Happiness. Finally. He blew out the deep breath that he felt like he’d been holding for the past sixteen years.
* * *
—
“Wow,” Joanna said as she stole a peek out the window.
MacDara Keep’s private courtyard at Highland Life and Legends had never been fitted out in so much glory. Esme and Lucia had outdone themselves with the assistance of Grant’s mother and an easily recruited herd of helpers from all the druid clans, as well as several ladies from town.
Strings of the tiniest lights, their whiteness as piercingly bright as stars, were stretched back and forth across the cobblestoned courtyard and wound in and about the surrounding shrubbery and tree branches until the entire area looked as though it had been dusted with diamonds. The MacDara colors hung from every archway and post; sashes of the rich blue plaid surrounded the snowy white linens covering the tables. Thick pillar candles with gently flickering yellow flames were strategically placed to create the best possible sense of peace and calm.
Bagpipe players stood at attention, one at each end of the head table and several more scattered about the grounds. All were stoic and unsmiling, patiently waiting for Esme’s signal. Two chairs that looked more like thrones as far as Joanna was concerned were placed at the center of the main table, with lesser chairs on either side finishing out the place settings.
“They outdid themselves.” Joanna stepped away from the window and hugged her middle. I think I may puke. Fingering the brooch hanging from a dark blue ribbon around her neck, she turned to Grant. “So…we’re going with August for the official date then, right?”