Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 109722 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109722 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Oria stopped and talked with some people as if she were a friend. But to them she actually was a friend, a good one. She hadn’t deserted them after the attack. She had returned and given them what help she could.
Their walk brought them back to the keep, but at Oria’s urging and a tug of his hand she led them to the large oak tree they had once spent time sitting under. Leaves were bursting in full bloom. Soon it would be a thick canopy providing shade and a perfect place to escape to. He looked forward to seeing it once again, having thought about this spot often while away.
She sat snug against him, not letting go of his hand and he could almost read her thoughts.
“You won’t be sleeping beside me ever again,” he ordered.
“I thought you’d say that, but that’s not an order I intend to obey,” she said, turning a bright smile on him.
“I’m not giving you a choice.”
She laughed softly. “And I’m not giving you one either.”
“And who do you think is going to win this?” he asked and while he thought himself sure of victory there was something in her smile that gave him pause to think otherwise.
“It would be a defeat for us both if we succumb to this.” She squeezed his hand. “We’ve suffered enough defeat. It’s time we stop fear from ruling our lives and taste victory once again.”
Royden rested his head back on the tree trunk and closed his eyes. “I almost strangled you to death last night.”
“But you didn’t. You felt my hand squeeze your arm and woke.” She smiled again. “From now on, I’ll give you a good punch when you roll near me.”
He brought his head forward and turned quickly to look at her. “You promise?”
He couldn’t believe he was asking her such a thing. He should lock her in her bedchamber at night, that way he’d know she was safe. But, God help him, he wanted her in his bed.
“I didn’t mean that,” she said. Besides, he was too thick with muscle to ever feel her inadequate punch.
“Promise me it anyway and we’ll continue to share a bed.”
Oria couldn’t refuse him since it would get her what she wanted—a chance to seal their vows.
“On one condition,” she said and when he glared at her, she was quick to explain. “I want you to join me permanently in the master bedchamber. It’s where you belong. Where we belong.”
He had been avoiding that move, thinking that if his da should—by some miracle—return, he belonged there. But after seeing how the people regarded him and Oria today, he knew it was time.
“Aye, I’ll join you there.”
“Wonderful,” she said and kissed him on the cheek. “Now tell me what Fergus told you.”
She was as eager to know as he was what had caused this misery and what they had yet to face, and he wouldn’t keep her ignorant of that. Besides, he enjoyed discussing the matter with her. She had a sharp mind and offered solid advice, much like his mum had done with his da.
He was about to detail his talk when someone screamed for Oria.
They both looked to see Penn rushing toward them. “Morgan is ill. Please. Please help my son.”
Oria was on her feet in a flash and running right past Penn, her husband following behind her.
Emily was crying while rocking the screaming bairn in her arms. “Something is wrong. He won’t stop crying. I’ve tried everything.”
Oria took the bairn from her and laid him on the bed. He was whaling his head off and scrunching his little legs up while his arms flailed about.
Royden entered behind Penn and stood to the side, watching how tender his wife was with the baby and he couldn’t help but think what he had always thought, that she would make a wonderful, loving mum.
Penn hugged his wife, comforting her, but tears were in his eyes as well. Royden didn’t blame him one bit. He’d be frightened to death if that was his son.
“I believe I know what you need, Morgan,” Oria said softly and lifted the bairn up in her arms and sat on the bed. She rested the bairn’s little bottom on her leg and with one hand cupping his tiny chest and stomach she tilted him forward some while her other hand rubbed his back.
He cried and fussed and suddenly—released a burp far too loud to come from such a small bairn and was followed shortly by another.
Oria smiled and when she eased him to rest in the crook of her arm, the little bairn smiled and snuggled against her.
She returned Morgan to his mum. “He probably stuffed himself at his last feeding.”
Emily smiled and wiped at her eyes with her sleeve before she took the bairn in her arms to hold close. “He did. I didn’t think he’d stop.”