Waiting For The Moon - Part 32
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Part 32

"You have slept with Selena," Maeve said at last. "And I mean this in the ... romantic sense."

"I don't suppose you'd believe that we were waiting for our clothes to dry?"

A laugh slipped from Maeve's mouth before she could stop it. "Don't be impertinent. I'm trying to be ...

motherly here."

His smile faded. He looked down at Maeve and wished suddenly that he could take it all back, all the times he'd hurt her and snubbed her and rejected her. "You always were," he said softly.

More, he thought, say more. But there were no words, just a thick lump of regret in his throat and a burning need for absolution.

Tears puddled in her eyes, her mouth trembled. "No," she whispered. A tear streaked down her face.

"No."

Ian wanted to close the distance between them, maybe even wipe the tears from her eyes. But he couldn't move, couldn't really fathom that kind of intimacy. Too much had happened, too much water lay beneath the bridge, dark and ugly and swirling with lost moments, a lifetime of miscommunication.

They stood that way for what seemed like hours, and Ian knew that she was as paralyzed by regret as he was. On the mantel, the porcelain clock ticked slowly onward.

You can hurt your mother, or you can not hurt your mother. Simple decision. Simple.

The thought came to him, sharp and clear and cleansing. It was as if Selena were inside him, urging him to be strong, to take a risk.

Everything is easy for you, Selena.

And so difficult for you, Ian.

She was right. The world did hinge on choices, some as simple as this one. He could reach out right now, 261.

touch his mother with words. It might not be much, might not right every wrong that had punctured their relationship for years, but it could be something he'd never imagined, and yet never stopped aching for.

A beginning.

He gazed down at his mother, seeing the silvery trails that streaked her pale cheeks, and he wished to Christ he could hold her. Just that ...

But he couldn't, of course. Not yet. All he could offer was an uncertain start. "Mother, I ... I'm sorry. For everything."

It wasn't much, he realized. A pale imitation of the emotion that was needed.

She was surprised by the apology. Her eyes widened, and then a slow, trembling smile curved her lips.

"I'm sorry, too, Ian." She reached out one hand, pale and slim in the sunlight.

He stared at it, feeling a rush of fear, then hope. Slowly he slipped his fingers through hers and squeezed.

Images hurled themselves at him, forced him to squeeze his eyes shut. It took him a second to realize that they were beautiful images and heart-wrenching words.

I love you, Ian.

He opened his eyes. Their gazes met, locked. He knew in that instant that she wouldn't say the words aloud, not yet, not to him. She'd been hurt by him too often to trust him so easily, and she wasn't sure that this moment was real. Deep down, she was afraid that she was lost in the abyss of her own mind, and that she was making it all up, that tomorrow he'd ignore her again.

"It's real," he said quietly.

She said nothing, just nodded. Another tear streaked down her face. Then she cleared her throat. "What are you going to do about Selena?"

"Do? Why, I'll marry her, of course."

"Have you asked her?"

"No. But that's just a formality."

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Maeve laughed. "Nothing is just a formality with Selena."

Ian laughed with her, and it felt good. "That's certainly true. Marriage will have to make sense to her." His voiced trailed off. A frown pulled at his brows. "Holy h.e.l.l ..."

"Yes," Maeve said. "It could be a problem."

Everyone was in the study, waiting for Maeve and Ian to join them. There was a heavy silence, as if no one knew what to say. Selena looked at the faces around her and felt a rush of love for each of them.

Her family.

She smiled. "You all look so worried. Except you, Johann." She crossed the room and went to him, her smile broadening with each step. "You knew, did you not?"

Johann's grin matched hers. "I knew. So?"

The queen slammed her hands on her meaty hips and gave a breathy harrumph. "So what? No one has secrets in my kingdom."

Selena couldn't help herself. She started to laugh. Memories twirled through her mind and brought a flush to her cheeks. "It was wonderful," she whispered to Johann.

"And were you a ... you know?"

"G.o.d d.a.m.n it," the queen hissed. "Was she a you-know-what?" She marched up to Johann and rapped him on the side of his head with her closed fan.

"It is no secret, Your Highness," Selena answered. "Johann wants to know if I was a virgin."

This time the queen smacked Johann with her open hand. 'That's no question for a man to ask a lady."

Then she turned to Selena. "Were you?"

"I was," Selena said with a huge grin. "But I am not anymore. And oh, Your Highness. It was grand."

The queen sighed mistily. "It certainly is... ."

"Selena!" Ian's voice boomed through the room, and 263.

everyone spun to face him. He stood in the doorway. "What are you talking about?"

She just about melted at the sight of him standing there, so strong, so tall, so loving. She wanted to run to him and throw her arms around him and kiss him. Everywhere. "s.e.x," she answered.

"Ladies don't discuss such things."

She frowned. "You mean I can do it, but I can't talk about it?"

He looked a little sick. "Oh, no . .."

"Why, that's positively ridiculous. If I can kiss your-"

"Enough!" he shouted. "Everyone out."

The queen bristled. "Not b.l.o.o.d.y likely, young sir. This is getting good."

For a second, Ian didn't respond, he just stood there, looking like he was going to scream, and then, very softly, he said, "I have a question to ask Selena."

A gasp rose from the crowd.

Selena glanced from one friend's face to another. They were staring at Ian in stunned disbelief, as if they all knew something that she did not. And they were grinning.

"Hurry!" the queen shouted. "A man's decision is a fragile thing."

"Aye," Edith agreed. "He could lose the b.l.o.o.d.y nerve."

Johann stared at Ian, a slow, hesitant smile on his face. "He won't lose his nerve. He's only just found it."

All at once, the residents surged to their feet and hurried to the door, moving like a great multiheaded centipede, feet shuffling, hands clapping.

The door closed silently behind them.

"Ian," Selena said, feeling the first tingle of apprehension. "I misunderstand. ..."

He gave her a smile that seemed tense and strained, then fumbled for something in his pocket. Moving

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toward her, he brushed a wayward lock of hair from his forehead and kneeled at her feet.

"Selena ..."

Behind him, through the sheer curtains, she saw the crowd gather. They were squished together on the porch so that everyone could see through the window. She could hear a faint rustle of voices from outside, then a loud "shut up" from the queen and they fell silent.

Ian wet his lips and looked up at her. Slowly he withdrew a beautiful ring from his pants pocket and held it out to her. "Selena, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

Muted clapping seeped through the window.

Ian froze the crowd with a sharp look, then turned back to her.

Selena didn't know what to do or say, had no idea what was expected of her. Was the ring a gift? Or were the words the important thing? "I misunderstand. You seek to have us marry?"

His breath released in a sharp sigh. "Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I love you."

She gave him a smile. "I feel love for you, also. Too. But what has this to do with marry?"

He seemed to choose his words carefully. "Marriage is a promise to stay together forever."

"Of course we shall stay together. I promise it now, before G.o.d. There, we are married."

"No. Marriage is also a ... legal commitment. We must offer our vows before a representative of the church or the state."

She frowned. "My word is not good enough?"

He shook his head. "No."

"But I do not need another to give my vow truth. I have promised. I have honor. This is enough."

He covered his face with his hand. "h.e.l.l. I knew this would be a problem. You don't understand...."

"I am not too damaged to understand the words, Ian.

I.

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It is the concept which confuses me. You ask for my vow, I have given it. But it is not enough. You want more, and you think I do not understand the legal commitment which you seek, but you are wrong.

Earlier, I looked up this word 'marriage' in the big book, and I read its meaning. In marriage, a woman is a wife, and a wife is a chattel. And cows are chattel, Ian." She leaned toward him. "Cattle."

He cursed beneath his breath. "Yes."

"I shall not choose to be a cow."

A quick burst of laughter shot from his lips, then, slowly, he looked up at her, and the sharpness was gone from his eyes. In its place, she saw only love and understanding and respect. "As usual, you put everything in a very neat perspective." He set the ring down on the table and scooted toward her, slipping between her legs. "Marriage makes no sense from a woman's point of view, I'll grant you. The husband gives up nothing and gains everything the woman has. Or so it would seem by the dictionary definition."

"Yes," she said proudly. 'This was my understanding."

"But there's more." His voice was low, a caress that sent a shiver dancing along her spine. "Forget the legal and social and moral reasons for getting married. I don't ask you for those reasons. I ask you to marry me because of something infinitely more simple and yet profoundly more complex." He leaned toward her, close enough to kiss. "You changed me, Selena. You taught me to see the world through different eyes, to make decisions based on right or wrong, and to trust in the old words-honor, love, commitment. It is for those reasons that I come to you now and offer you my mother's ring. Not because of the law of ownership or the blessing of the church. It is for simple selfishness. I love you. You are my world."