Page 93 of How to Be a Scottish Mistress

“I sincerely beg yer pardon, sire. We decided but two days ago to wed, leaving no chance to invite any guests, save for my clansmen.”

“That was rather convenient. For ye.”

Gavin nodded, but remained silent. The white lines around Robert’s mouth indicated his growing fury. ’Twould be foolish indeed, to poke at an already snarling bear.

“Is the ceremony completed, good priest?” Robert asked, his angry voice cutting through the tension like a sword slicing flesh.

Father Niall’s face froze in horror as he hastily went down on one knee in supplication. “ ’Tis done. Save fer the final blessing,” he croaked.

A muscle twitched under the king’s eye. “So, I have missed the part when one can voice an objection if they know of any reason or just cause why this couple should not marry?”

“Aye.” The priest blanched, then nodded nervously. “They are indeed wed in the eyes of God.”

“But not their king!”

There was a collective gasp from the crowd. Father Niall pulled a linen cloth from his sleeve and wiped his sweating brow, looking as though a few years had been taken off his life.

Gavin’s eyes immediately sought Fiona’s. She appeared to be holding up well—her back was straight, her head held high. But no matter how hard she tried to hide it, he could see the small tremor of her hands, clasped together so tightly the knuckles were white.

“Perhaps ’tis best if we speak of this in private,” Gavin suggested.

There was a long pause. Robert favored him with a mulish expression, looking far less like a king and far more like a petulant little boy. Finally, he leapt from his horse. Without waiting to see if Gavin followed, the king took several long strides and entered the chapel. The moment Gavin stepped inside, Robert slammed the door behind him.

“I’ve always known that ye are far too stubborn fer yer own good, but I never thought ye’d go this far.” Robert’s mouth fell into a grim line. “When did ye plan on telling me that instead of marrying the Sinclair lass, ye’ve taken it into yer fool head to wed an English widow?”

Gavin hesitated. It was important that he show remorse or else Robert would never be appeased. Yet he could not let the king believe there was any room for negotiation—Fiona was his wife and would remain so as long as they each lived.

“I sincerely beg yer pardon fer being so impulsive, but once the decision was made there seemed no point in waiting.”

“Ye willfully defy me without a qualm, giving no thought to the consequences,” Robert shouted, his gaze boring into Gavin. “And then ye have the gall to stand before me, unrepentant, righteous, and arrogant.”

“What’s done is done, sire.”

The king made an exasperated sound. “For ye, perhaps. But for a king, what’s done can be undone, if he so commands.”

They squared off, each determined to maintain their position. Gavin knew that Robert was at his core a fighter and could be impossibly stubborn. But he was fair, and most importantly, he rarely held a grudge.

Still, Gavin acknowledged the incident was his own fault. He could have waited until Robert sanctioned the marriage. The consequences of ignoring a dictate from his sovereign was one of the risks he had taken into account when insisting that Fiona become his wife.

Yet in his heart, Gavin knew there was no other choice. He could not, nor would he, live without Fiona. It was a fact that Robert would have to accept, in spite of his justified anger.

“Do ye want me to pay ye a bride price?” Gavin offered, knowing that years of warfare had left little time for Robert to collect the rents owed to the crown, usually leaving his coffers dry.

“I should demand twice the normal payment.” Robert made a frustrated sound. “I probably will.”

“I’ll willingly pay whatever ye require.”

Robert let out a huff. “A Scotsman willingly parting with his gold? Bloody hell, she’s turned yer head with her passion.”

“Aye, but ’tis more, so much more. She’s captured my heart. I would gladly give my life fer her.”

“Love? Well, then, that’s another matter entirely.” Something approaching understanding flashed in Robert’s eyes. “Love is a rare occurrence, an emotion that most men believe is an illusion. In my experience ’tis also an impression that many women seek to change, fer they value love far above the more practical aspects of marriage.”

“ ’Tis no illusion,” Gavin answered readily. “True love is difficult to describe, but fer me it has brought a completeness to my life that I never believed possible.”

Jaw locked, the king rocked back on his heels. “And how did Laird Sinclair take the news of yer decision to forsake yer promise to his daughter and wed the English widow?”

“Better than I had hoped.” Gavin grinned. “Lady Aileen also rebelled at honoring the betrothal, making it harder fer Sinclair to insist. But in my quest fer my own happiness, I did not neglect my duty. Sinclair has agreed to support yer claim to the throne and swear allegiance to ye.”

---