Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 102573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Bhric did not like hearing there were things about him she disliked. “What are those other things?”
She ran a gentle finger over his lips. “When you fail to kiss me throughout the day. When you are gone too long from me, and my heart begins to ache. When you leave our bed before I wake in the morning. When it has been too long that I have felt your hand in mine. When I look upon you and fear that this is all a dream, and I will wake one day to find it all gone.”
His hand went to the back of her neck, taking tight hold. “Do you feel my grip on you?”
Tavia nodded, his hand strong there that all but boasted, I will never let you go, and that brought her not only relief but a spark of pleasure.
“It is no dream. It is all real between you and me, and it will always be that way. Somehow I fell not just in love with you but deeply in love with you. A depth of love that can never be broken, never wane, never end. I cannot say when I realized I loved you or if the prelude to my disfavor with you was actually that I favored you, since I did find you appealing, and refused to admit just how much I did.” That thought had him pausing a moment. He had not known she was his wife when he had nearly run her down with his horse and yet he had felt a stir in him for her. That was before she had visited with the witch. That meant his feelings for her had begun with a first look when he had had no knowledge of who she was. He rested his brow to hers relieved. “The love we found was relentless and refused to be denied no matter how stubborn each of us were and still are. I only wish I had been as quick to see what my mother knew and saw… that you would make me a perfect and loving wife.”
They kissed again, lightly and tenderly then Tavia rested her head on his chest, his hand drifting off her neck and his arm going firm around her. She wondered over the fact that she had found love with a man she had thought would find nothing but disappointment with her for their entire married life.
Love surely was strange, absent from your life one minute then suddenly appearing the next and wondering where it had come from. How had it snuck up on her? Or how had she been so blind not to see it in the first place? And now knowing it, feeling it, relishing it, she never ever wanted to let it go. The thought had Tavia hugging her husband’s arm as if somehow her meek hold could keep him with her forever.
“Any idea who might want to poison your clan?” Bhric asked.
Tavia was glad for the distraction from her thoughts, or she feared she might get teary-eyed. “Lord Ivan would be the first to come to mind, but what would he gain from it? The clan would revert to you upon my da’s death. There would be no benefit in it for him. Could it possibly be someone who wishes ill will to you?”
“I imagine there are those who do not want to see a man who has Northmen blood in him inherit a title, a clan, and all its land, though I cannot say anyone displayed displeasure with it. My grandfather had made a point of gathering neighboring clan lords and chieftains alike and introducing them to me. He talked of my knowledge and skill as a warrior and how it could benefit each of them. That was how I met Torin. He attended in his father’s stead, and we became instant friends.”
“What of Lord Bennett, the previous lord of Clan MacVannan and Ivan’s uncle?”
“He had been ill at the time and unable to attend the gathering.
When his wife grew quiet for several minutes, Bhric asked, “What troubles you, Tavia?”
She gave a quick glance around, seeing servants busy with scrubbing the tables and replacing candles. “Can we talk in your solar?”
“We can,” he said, sliding off the bench and taking her with him. He took her hand as they walked to his solar, Fen quick to follow them.
Tavia went to the hearth, staring down at the flames appearing as if she questioned the wisdom of being there.
Fen sensed her unease and kept a watchful eye on her from where he lay curled up near the hearth.
Bhric came up behind her, his arms going around her to turn her gently to face him. “You will tell me what weighs so heavily on your mind.”
“I did not think it would ever be necessary to ask you this question, but I find I must,” she said, sounding reluctant to her own ears. “I hear the whispers and chatty tongues and now with news of illness at Clan Strathearn those tongues may grow out of control. What I need to know is that you do not doubt my love for you. That I requested no spell from Fia to cast on you nor did she offer one and how could she when she has no such power? She is simply a healer with a thirst for knowledge that would enable her to tend the sick and needy. If anyone cast a spell on either of us, it was fate since I believe we were destined for each other and perhaps, as strange as it may seem, both of our mothers knew that.”