Page 85 of Wolfehound
And what a feast it was.
Scott and his family were in attendance with the exception of Jordan, who’d chosen not to make the long trip back to Folkingham. She was missed, of course, but her presence was felt in the silken veil she’d sent Cambria to wear during the wedding ceremony. Even now, Cambria wore it pinned to the back of her head, proud to wear it, as Caria continued to admire the Welsh diamond ring. Truthfully, she was trying to tug it off, and it was Scott who reached over and pulled her hand away.
“Enough, Cari,” he told her. “You are going to break Bria’s finger.”
Caria grinned up at her adoptive brother. “I just wanted to get a better look at it,” she said. “It sparkles so.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “You were going to run off with it, you little thief,” he said. Then he pointed to the center of the hall, where people were dancing to the music of a man with a lute. “Go and dance. Take the others with you.”
He meant his children, sitting at the table and bored because they didn’t yet appreciate a good wedding feast. But they did appreciate a good dance. Caria leapt up and ran down the table, collecting Seraphina and then Scott and Avrielle’s youngest daughter, Jordan. The little girls rushed out to those dancing, pulling on the hands of Kyle, now fully recovered, and Logan, who viewed young girls as one would view the plague—uninteresting, disgusting, and not to be danced with. He preferred a lass his own age, of which there were none, so in the end, he was forced to dance with little Jordan.
The sight made Scott grin.
“The lad needs to learn to be tolerant,” he said. But then he turned to the couple. “As for you two, now might be the time to slip away. Everyone is either drunk or dancing and not paying attention to you.”
Carlton, on his daughter’s other side, heartily agreed. “Aye,” he said. “Go, now. Your mother is already in your chamber, making sure it is warm and well prepared. You can bid her a good night and send her back to me.”
Liam was already on his feet, looking to his father down the table. “Papa?” he said. “We are retiring. If you wish to kiss the bride, now is the time.”
War, who had been trying to convince Annaleigh to dance with him, got out of his chair at his son’s statement. Annaleigh stood up also, and together, the pair of them moved for the happy couple. Annaleigh hugged her son, but she was more interested in Cambria. In fact, she took the woman affectionately by the arm and began to walk away with her.
Frowning, Liam watched them go.
“She’s running off with my wife,” he said, pointing. “Where is she going?”
As Scott and Carlton chuckled, War fought off a grin. “Probably telling her what to avoid in the marital bed,” he muttered. “Telling her that she should not do anything involving whips or ropes.”
Scott, and even Carlton, burst out laughing as Liam scowled at his father. “Christ, Papa,” he hissed. “Why do you do it? You are a terrible, terrible man to say such things.”
War broke down in soft laughter, putting his arm around his son’s shoulders and kissing him on the side of the head. “You make an easy target,” he said. But quickly, he sobered. “In truth, I wish you nothing but the best. Bria is a wonderful woman, Liam. You are blessed.”
Liam softened. “I am,” he said. “Thank you, Papa.”
War simply nodded, feeling emotional. He honestly didn’t trust himself to speak more than he already had, but there was something else he needed to say before his emotions overwhelmed him completely.
“Your mother has something to give you and Bria,” he said, gesturing to the women heading out of the hall. “Go with them.”
Liam didn’t hesitate. He made his way out of the hall, with his father following behind him, before catching up to his mother and wife as they stepped out into the sunset. But just as he reached them, he noticed a shadow by his side and turned to see Bran strolling next to him. Smiling, he paused long enough to bend over and give his dog an affectionate pat.
“Not tonight, old man,” he said. “Go back and sit with Papa. Go on, now.”
He was pointing to the hall, where War was standing in the entry. War whistled to the dog, who ran happily to the man who would feed him scraps from his plate. As War and Bran headed back into the hall, Liam bolted after his mother and his wife. By the time he caught them again, his mother had her arm around Cambria’s shoulders, so Liam took her hand as they headed for the keep.
“I must say, that was one of the tamest weddings I’ve attended with a de Wolfe involved,” Annaleigh said. “The de Wolfe weddings are legendary for their debauchery.”
Cambria looked at her in disbelief. “Lady Jordan would permit such a thing?” she said. “I do not believe it.”
Annaleigh chuckled. “I’m not saying she permits it,” she said. “But her lads do it anyway. They sing terrible songs, jump on tables, and become ragingly drunk.”
“Sounds like a good time,” Liam said. “Scott was here. He’s her lad. Why did he not jump on the table and sing?”
Annaleigh laughed. “Because Scott couldna carry a tune in a bucket,” she said. “Moreover, he’s the Earl of Warenton, so some decorum must be maintained.”
They were all grinning by the time they passed into the keep and up the stairs. Cambria was wearing the magnificent scarlet wedding dress, and it took both Liam and Annaleigh to help her up the steps with it. By the time they reached her chamber, everyone was carrying some part of the skirt. Liam let his portion fall to the floor as he escorted his bride into her chamber.
Fair Lydia greeted them.
“Ah,” she said, moving away from the table she’d just set, laden with food and drink. “Are the festivities over now?”
