Irish Moon (41 page)

Ashlon would see his quest’s end, may have
already, and would become her husband by the moonrise. Ula had seen
to all the preparations, including the small keep that Breanne had
not set foot in since her father’s death.

Breanne had decided never to let slip nor
verify the secret that Finn had exposed. She would not ask her
mother and not tell Danny. She would not even allow herself to
ponder. She loved Danny as a brother, always had, and knowing he
might in truth be hers made little difference.

She held a new respect for her mother.
Breanne realized that through the years of war and peace, of joy
and death, Ula had been strength itself and managed serenity to
boot. There was no better queen to Niall.

It would be propitious to return to it as a
wife, her mother had promised her. And one day soon, as a mother
herself. Ula had spent many happy years there as both and the stone
walls missed the cheer that a family would bring.

“None of that now, Bree,” Rose said. “You’ll
end up washing away the berry stain and I got it just the right
color.”

Breanne came back to the present and blinked
back the tears Rose scolded her for.

“I’m sorry, Rose. I just canno’ believe how
happy I am to have been so very wrong about what I thought I
wanted.”

“I know it.” Rose smiled and patted her
shoulder. “I’m glad for it, as well.”

* * * *

They’d offered him the black and the steed
had proved worth his weight in gold. With only a handful of hours
rest, the black had carried him, albeit at a more leisurely pace,
back up the same road. Ramsey had arrived just in time to join him,
his head well and not a sign of lingering effects from his
injury.

Ashlon was happy to have the help and
company. Strangely, the anxiety and pressure that he’d grown so
accustomed to feeling regarding Jacques’s petition had left him. In
its place was hope, large and free and glorious.

They arrived at the Giant’s causeway on the
tail of a downpour and ceremoniously laid the chest into its
intended tomb among the round stilts of rock. Ramsey spoke
reverently of their act, making Ashlon finally understand why
Jacques had chosen him to follow this journey.

“Life is bigger than you and I, my friend,”
Ramsey had said so softly that the wind almost hushed it. “It is
bigger than the whole lot of us, wherever we roam or call a home,
home.”

Ashlon had been struck not just by the words
but by the way they made Ramsey appear. The man’s face was not lit
with warmth, his eyes did not dance with joy. He looked almost
sad.

“In a hundred generations, another man will
find this treasure and try to harness its goodness and power. We
are a part of the tapestry of those generations. What we choose
today, colors the picture of that tomorrow.” Ramsey stared at the
sea, stretched out past the bridge rock myth determined a giant had
once created to reach love.

Suddenly, his Grand Master’s final words to
him took on new meaning. “Be brave of heart and soft of soul and
love will bring you home,” Jacques had said, so fiercely that
Ashlon had hid his derision. The words had seemed so trite at the
time, and later simply sad mumblings of a man who saw death coming
to his door.

Now, though, he saw their truth. Jacques
chose him, not only that day, but long before then. Ashlon had been
chosen and prepared for this journey from the first and only now
could he see his life’s events as part of a whole. It was as though
he glimpsed destiny’s face for a brief wonderful moment of
clarity.

Ramsey half chuckled, his eyes looking
faraway. “Well, then, Ashlon. This ones good and buried then.” He
kicked the rocky tomb with his boot. “What say you we leave before
my arse falls off frozen?”

“Aye.” Ashlon laughed. “Damned chilly for
near summer, isn’t it?”

“Ah, but that is another wonderful trait of
Ireland, Ashlon. All year round, you’ll enjoy springlike weather
that is wonderfully mild.” They mounted and heeled their horses to
a trot. “Of course, the summers are lush and full of bloom, yet the
winter won’t freeze you bones either.”

Ashlon half listened to the ongoing litany of
benefits Ireland weather wrought as they rode faster, got closer to
what he now thought of as home. His heart beat in rhythm with the
black’s hooves as the past’s obligations and horrors melted
away.

The sun broke through the clouds as he saw
familiar hills and peaks rise in front of them. Even from the
distance he was at, he could see activity in Breanne’s keep’s
courtyard. What would soon be his yard. The realization sent a new
trill of hope through him.

Ramsey had been visibly taken aback when
Ashlon had sought reassurance that the clan would not see him as an
interloper on Breanne’s fortune and lands. His friend had soundly
rebuked him for ‘the ludicrous idea’, but nevertheless, Ashlon
meant to repay Breanne in the only way he knew how.

He vowed to God and man that he would protect
her and hers with his life. He promised to make her holdings a
profitable endeavor of which any wife could be proud. Her father’s
legacy, her legacy, deserved no less.

As they rode to the O’Donnell keep’s stables,
they were greeted and welcomed by any who saw them. Groups walked
to the keep, already merry at the day’s coming celebration.

Ashlon handed over the reins of the black. In
his distraction he didn’t even hear Ramsey call for him to wait and
didn’t. He was home. And his body was reacting to that reality with
the least appropriate response possible. He felt lusty.

The few days had seemed thrice as long and
his body sensed that what it craved was nearing. But, it would have
to wait a bit longer because as soon as he entered the keep, he was
overwrought with well-wishers and his bride’s mother.

Ula O’Donnell had three maids in tow and
ushered Ashlon directly to a private chamber where a bath waited,
for hot water and food sat ready for his consumption. Before he
could properly thank her, she was gone.

He ate quickly, glad that things seemed
rushed and cared not as to why. Buckets were brought, the tub
filled and as he moved to undress, a soft knock sounded on the
door. Ashlon hoped it was not yet another maid insisting he need
help in his bath and dress. From the first day he’d arrived, he’d
seen just how helpful some of the staff tried to be and he was
loath to make another one cry over rejection.

But, it was not a young girl at the door. It
was Danny. Ashlon had forgotten their arrangement, made during his
quick departure, in all the bustle. He bade the boy enter and
offered him a good strong handshake.

“Were you able to secure what we discussed,
Master Daniel?”

Danny beamed. His shoulders squared further.
“Aye, Sir Ashlon. I have brought it to you.”

Danny produced a small but roomy satchel and
laid it on the narrow table near the door. Ashlon decided a
lukewarm bath was as good as any. This procurement was not one to
be rushed through. Though the boy looked well, Ashlon knew he might
feel a good deal of guilt for his part in Finn’s plan. If none or
any had talked to him of it yet, it didn’t show. There was a
solemnity in Danny’s manner that had not been there a week ago.

Gingerly, Danny reached into the bag and
pulled out the gift Ashlon meant to give his wife that night. Danny
had had a terrible time keeping the litter of kittens a secret and
Ashlon was now grateful for it. The small black bundle blinked from
her cower in Danny’s hands. Her eyes were the color of daffodils
and her petite mewl made him grin.

“You’ve done well, Master Daniel.” Ashlon
clapped his shoulder. “Now, I have another task, if you are willing
and able.”

Danny cupped the kitten with his hands and
held it protectively close. “What’s that, Sir Ashlon?”

“I’m hoping to surprise Breanne with this
gift after we wed. But, I’m in a bit of a shortage on time. Might
you be able to escort this gift to Breanne O’Donnell’s keep? I have
been assured by her mother that all is ready there. This kitten
will be the final touch.”

Ashlon wanted to tell Danny the fire was not
his fault, that Finn’s deception could have been successful on any.
But, he did not have the words to broach the issue and so did the
best he could conjure. He gave the boy responsibility, knowing
firsthand the improvements it would make over the course of his
growth into a man.

“I will see her there straight away, Ashlon.”
Danny nodded and set his brow determinedly. “You can count on
me.”

“Aye, I knew I could.”

Epilogue

“Think you all wedding days pass in such a
blur?” Breanne asked. She adjusted her head on Ashlon’s chest to
better hear his heartbeat. Sweat from their second wedding night
lovemaking still gleamed over his sculpted torso.

She seemed unable to get enough of him. She
could drink him into her were she able and still thirst despite
repletion.

Ashlon stroked her arm, not answering right
away. “I believe so. Leastwise, every one of mine has been.”

Breanne poked him. He flinched and chuckled.
He’d been more’n a bit of a tease since they had spoken their vows
in front of what seemed like the entire clan. She had even glimpsed
Quinlan in the crowd and that gave her hope that she would one day
again call him her friend.

“I feel as though it floated by me from the
moment Erlene burst in to tell me you’d returned to the parade
walking us over. I hardly recall telling you ‘I will’.”

Ashlon’s arms squeezed her closer. He kissed
the top of her head. A dozen candles’ flames danced in the window’s
breeze. The male scent of him enveloped her mind as she breathed it
in.

“I have a bit of a gift for you, Breanne,”
Ashlon said, his voice thick.

Breanne sat up so she might see his face. Her
heart thrummed with love.

“You’ve no need to gift me, Ashlon. Returning
to me today is boon enough to last me all my days.”

Ashlon smiled, stroked a tendril away from
her face.

“It is a wedding gift to us. Niall visited me
before the ceremony.”

Breanne’s brow gathered. She wasn’t certain
she liked the sound of this.

“He came to tell me news of Heremon’s last
wishes. In his final search, Niall found a letter.” Ashlon paused,
a smile quirking his mouth.

“He enjoyed such things, it appears.”

Ashlon chuckled. “Aye. But, this one named me
as his heir.”

“What? Heir? I do not understand. He found
you near death the very day Finn killed him.”

“I offered the same point to Niall. It
appears my destiny was decided much farther back than I realized.
Heremon and Jacques saw their fate and, together, gambled yours and
mine in hopes of saving the stone.”

Breanne’s brow gathered into a tight scowl.
“I don’t understand.” Yet, somehow, she did. Ashlon was meant for
her and she for him. They were meant to face this path. “If Niall
knew you were named as Heremon’s heir, if he knew of Jacques—.”

“He knew only that Heremon left me a letter.”
Ashlon took her hand. “The letter explains the plotting our mentors
made for our futures.”

“But, he did not give it to you until today?”
Breanne couldn’t shake her suspicion. Her king, her stepfather, had
handled Heremon's murder so strangely, as though it weren't one at
all. "Why delay such a boon? Such secrecy is not like him."

“He’s had a lot on his mind,” Ashlon said
softly.

“Aye,” Breanne said repentantly. “He has.”
She returned to his outstretched arms, deciding she knew more than
she liked already. Whatever more influenced Niall's mind, she no
longer cared to know.

Something soft tickled her lower back and
Breanne shot back up with a small shriek. Ashlon guffawed and
scooped his hands into the bed’s sheeting. Then, with little
flourish but a brilliant smile, he presented her with a little ball
of mewling fur. The kitten she’d chosen from Minerva’s litter.

“How did you know?” Breanne gasped and took
the small thing from him. The shy little thing was softer than a
duckling in her hands.

“With a bit of help from the feine.”

Breanne raised her eyebrows at his use of the
Gaelic term for kinship, clan, family. He truly had embraced it,
then. It warmed her. For what felt like the hundredth time, Breanne
thanked any higher powers that would hear for bringing her this
warrior to love. In turns he surprised, impressed, and frustrated
her beyond her girlhood or grown dreams.

“Do you love me, Breanne?” Ashlon asked, his
gaze suddenly piercing hers, his fingers stroking hers.

Breanne tipped her head and smiled. “Can you
not feel it, Ashlon?”

“
Aye,” he said, with an
impish half-smile. “I do, and I feel my love for you, as
well.”

“Aye, I know you do.” Breanne might’ve burst
into a thousand stars, she was so happy. “I feel it, too.”

The End.

###

Dear Reader,

Thank you for coming away with me in this
magickal romance. Since I was a little girl, it has been my heart’s
dream to write and share timeless love stories, characters who
surmount impossible obstacles. Quinlan’s story will be coming soon
in Enchanted Moon as well as an extra epilogue to Irish Moon.

I love to hear from readers and can be
contacted at [email protected] or I can be found online on
Twitter @amberscottbooks or Facebook. Subscription to my newsletter
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you access to freebies, contests and all my imaginary worlds.

I believe love transcends and transforms. Do
you?

Sincerely,

Amber

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