Adara yawned herself awake and was disappointed to find her husband gone from their bed. She smiled and stretched her arms above her head and her feet out, waking her muscles and laughed softly when she winced, sore from her husband’s intimate demands last night.
She laughed again since his demands had been in response to her own. Callie and Roark had not supped with them. A message had let Warrick know that the journey had exhausted her and she would see him in the morning along with her husband. Warrick had not believed it for a moment and was going to summon Roark when Adara had stopped him and pleaded with him to give the long separated couple time alone… just as she needed time with him.
That had convinced him quickly. They had supped in their bedchamber in between making love, the memories bringing a smile to her face.
She realized she had found herself smiling and laughing more since wed to Warrick than she had smiled or laughed in her entire life. She was content and fear suddenly began to poke at her. Would this contentment be brief? Would something rise up and steal it from her? Was she being a fool to even think she was content? Her questions peppered her fear and it kept rising and rising until she found it squeezing at her throat.
Warrick entered their bedchamber to find his wife sitting up in bed looking as if she was unable to catch her breath. He hurried to her side, rubbed her back, and spoke to her soothingly, seeing that fear had taken hold of her. Something that had not visited her of late.
As soon as Warrick lifted her into his arms and settled with her in his lap on the bed, her fear began to subside. “What troubles you, wife?”
“I am content,” she said on a heavy sigh.
His brow furrowed. “And this disturbs you?”
“Aye,” she said, resting her head against his chest. She loved listening to his heart beat strong and steady or rapidly like it did after they made love. “Anytime I ever found the smallest bit of contentment, something terrible always followed it.”
“Tell me of your small bits of contentment.”
She raised her head off his chest. “You would probably find them foolish.”
“If you treasured them so will I.”
Where once his dark eyes intimidated her, having appeared cold and empty, now she saw a glimmer of warmth and concern. It had sparked in his eyes now and again, but lately it lingered when he looked at her. It brought her more comfort than he could possibly ever know.
“I enjoyed collecting my stones. They were the first things that was something of my own. I enjoyed the late nights, when my fatigue did not surrender to sleep immediately. When all was quiet and there were no chores to be done or no one yelling at me, poking me to move faster, or feeling the sting of a wooden spoon against my arm or hand. For just a short while, I felt free.”
Warrick listened, her words stirring his own memories of similar nights and the freedom he had felt alone in the dark, free of his father’s endless demands and his mother’s cold heart. And there were those times his sister would sneak into bed with him, seeking safety and comfort from fear of her nightmares and what she would suffer if her father heard her scream in fright. That was the only time he never felt alone.
“The stolen moments I got when in the woods were favorites of mine, for I could imagine I was free, the day mine to run and explore.” Adara smiled, recalling what he had told her of his time spent in the woods. “You know yourself. You had such days.”
“There are things we share alike, you and I,” he said, the thought pleasing him.
If that was so, could he come to love her as she did him? Adara could only hope and this time she held on tightly to that hope. She was beginning to believe that if she held hope close to her heart long enough, it made things possible.
Her stomach gurgled the same time the bairn gave a good kick, Warrick feeling it.
Adara stared in awe at the smile that lit her husband’s face. She had thought he had fine features, but his features went far beyond fine when he truly smiled. And smile he did, broad and without hesitation.
“He is growing stronger,” Warrick said with pride, resting his hand on his wife’s stomach and feeling his child move. He could not, nor did he want, to stop from smiling. To know his child grew inside her was beyond magical. He had wanted a family, but he had wanted a wife that would love their bairns as much as he would, not a soulless wife and mum like his own mother. It had been the reason he had refused to wed after his first disastrous marriage. Now with Adara, it seemed possible.
“He is,” Adara agreed, her own smile growing wide. “And he is hungry.”
“Then we shall feed him.” Warrick hoisted her off the bed along with himself and he set her on her feet and helped her to dress, her hand still painful.
Her soft skin, tempted him to touch her, run his hand down along her arm, her skin silky smooth. He was pleased she responded to his every touch, took pleasure in it, welcomed it, encouraged it. Never had he imagined he would have a wife so responsive to his every touch. Or smile at him as if she lo… he stopped the thought.
Adara did not love him. She did what was necessary as she had done her whole life. It had been the reason he had asked for a servant when he chose to wed. He had wanted someone accustomed to obeying every word. He almost laughed and that thought alone startled him. He had had no reason to laugh until Adara. Or to smile until Adara. Now he found himself struggling not to do both, to continue to be the heartless warrior his father had demanded of him, telling him again and again that to care or love anything or anyone weakened a warrior. The odd thing was that he never felt more alive or powerful since Adara had entered his life with her fears, lack of obedience, and her eagerness to couple with him.
He found he very much favored his wife and he did not want to think of life without her.
Her sharp gasp snapped him out of his musings and he saw that he had been the cause of her pain, not having paid attention as he slipped her injured hand through her sleeve.
His apology died on his lips, his father having beaten him every time he would say he was sorry until the words were not even a thought… until now.
“You are not to do anything that will bring your hand pain,” he ordered in a way of an apology.
Adara smiled and raised her hand, the swelling near gone, but not the bruising. “It does better. Espy says that it will take time to heal and that even when the bruising disappears, pain will remain.”
“A good reason to be gentle with it and let others do for you.” He rushed a finger to her lips to stop her from responding. “I know that is a difficult task for you, but think how difficult it will be for you to hold our bairn when he is born if you do not give your hand time to heal.”
“You are right,” she said her eyes turning wide as she realized the wisdom of his words. “I cannot wait to hold our bairn. Having seen the joy a birth brings to a new mum has me eager to hold our bairn.”
“You do not fear birthing our bairn?”
She smiled and shook her head. “Not at all. I know there will be pain but I have known pain that consumed and tortured the soul. This pain brings joy and I will have no trouble enduring it.”
Warrick kissed her gently. “You make me proud, wife.”
Adara stared at him, her mouth agape until she managed to speak. “Truly?”
“I am proud of you and never forget it,” he said and kissed her again. “Now come, let us feed that hungry bairn of ours.”
“Wait,” she said full of excitement and hurried over to a basket by the bed and retrieved something, returning to him with a wide smile. “I have been meaning to show these to you. Two stones with nature’s designs on them to start my collection.” She held them out to him.
Warrick took them and looked them over. “Most impressive, wife, especially the triangle shaped one. Where did you find these?” He held them out to her.
“They were a gift.”
Warrick pulled his hand back, a scowl darkening his fine features. “Who gives my wife a gift?”
Warrick should be pleased, but he found himself feeling jealous that not only had Langdon spent time with Adara, but that learning of her interest in collecting stones, the man had taken the time to find her two. While he had taken the one stone she had found and still had not returned it to her.
“He should have gotten permission from me first before giving you the stones,” Warrick said, growing more annoyed at the man for doing something he should have done.
Adara took the stones from her husband. “Please, Warrick, you will rob me of the pleasure of these stones, if you berate Langdon for his thoughtful gift.”
“I mean the man no harm,” he said and tried to convince himself of it, but jealousy kept nagging at him. “But he must learn to seek permission before giving a gift to my wife. Now, I will hear no more of it. The bairn needs feeding.”
They left the room, Warrick set on finding Langdon before day’s end and talking with the man.
They were just about to share the morning meal in the quiet of the Great Hall when the door burst open and Callie came rushing in, Roark hurrying in behind her.
“Wonderful,” Callie said, clapping her hands together in delight as she approached. “I worried we missed the morning meal with you. Now we can share it together.” She pulled her cloak off and tossed it on the table beside the one where Adara and Warrick sat. She rubbed her arms after sitting opposite the couple. “I am glad you sit close to the hearth and not at the dais. It is much warmer and more welcoming here.”
Roark looked to Warrick.
“At least your husband has manners and waits to be invited to join us,” Warrick scolded.
Callie reached out, grabbed her husband’s arm, and tugged at him to sit beside her. “Do not be so stuffy, Warrick, we are family and I have missed you.”
“I am pleased to have you here, Callie,” Adara said and ignored the glare Warrick turned on her.
“I am delighted to be here and look forward to getting to know you better,” Callie said with a warm smile.
“If she becomes too much of a pest, you will let me know,” Warrick said to his wife.
“Be careful, Warrick, or I may deliver the news of home sparingly to you,” Callie said with a playful grin.
Warrick leaned his upper body across the table as he said, “Watch your words, Callie, or you will taste the wrath of our father.”
Callie’s smile vanished and she paled. “I meant no harm, Warrick.”
Roark slipped his arm around his wife and pulled her close against him. “You know how her tongue speaks before she thinks.”
“I am all too familiar,” Warrick said and drew back until he sat erect beside Adara. “Tell me what news you bring.”
Callie filled her husband’s tankard with cider, then her own, and Adara saw how her hands quivered, the fright Warrick had given her having yet to diminish.
“The repairs to the dungeon are complete and Torrin does well training the guards who will work there. Many are surprised that torture will be used only with your approval.”
Adara was also surprised and pleased to hear her husband was making changes to his dungeon. She would have preferred that he got rid of it completely, but she supposed to him it was a necessary evil.
“The fields have been expanded as you instructed and all of the building you ordered built before the winter sets in have been completed,” Callie said and paused to take a drink of her cider. “A messenger from King James arrived and when he learned you were not there, he ordered the message be delivered to you.”
“Then be done with it,” Warrick ordered.
“I think it would be best if I delivered it privately to you,” Callie said.
“I will hear it now,” Warrick demanded.
Callie shrugged. “As you wish. King James says the legitimacy of your marriage depends on your success.”
Fear rushed over Adara like never before. She knew it. She knew something would happen to steal her contentment. King James would not sanction their marriage and why should he when she was nothing more than a servant.
Her hand rushed out beneath the table instinctively to take hold of Warrick’s where his lay on his thigh. She was relieved to feel his strong fingers close tightly around her quivering hand and hold it as though he would never let it go and his response proved just that.
“No one will take my wife from me, not even King James,” Warrick said and turned to his wife. “You are stuck with me, Adara, and always will be.” He stood, releasing his wife’s hand reluctantly. “Come, Roark, I want you to choose our fastest horse and rider. I have a message I want delivered to the King immediately.”
Callie grabbed a chunk of bread and meat and shoved it in her husband’s hand as he stood.
“I do not starve your husband, Callie,” Warrick said.
Callie grinned. “He needs the food. I deplete his strength.”
Warrick shook his head and walked away while Roark laughed and kissed his wife’s cheek.
“Do nothing that will bring pain to your hand, wife,” Warrick called out before reaching the door, and Adara smiled pleased by his departing words. To her, it showed he cared.
“You care for Warrick,” Callie said as if not quite believing it.
“I do,” Adara admitted freely. “He is kind to me.”
Callie sighed as if in relief. “It is good to hear someone say that. No one would ever believe it, but I know that he is kind and I am relieved that his wife knows it as well.”
Adara lowered her voice to a whisper. “He told me you were his sister.”
Callie’s pretty face lit with delight. “He trusts you. That is rare for Warrick.”
Adara had not thought of that, but he had trusted her with the secret of his sister as he had trusted her when he told her not to tell anyone of what she had heard or seen in the woods. That knowledge brought her a sense of comfort.
“I want to be a good wife to him,” Adara said.
“It would do Warrick well to have someone be good to him.”
“You were good to him.”
Callie’s smile turned sad. “I was so hungry for attention, for love, and Warrick was the only one who did not push me away or ignore me. But then I was a pest. I never left him alone. I would have terrible nightmares and if I woke screaming my father would hit me and tell me I was a coward. My mother never came to comfort me. I was so frightened one night that I would have another nightmare and suffer my father’s wrath that I hurried to Warrick’s room and climbed into bed with him. He did not chase me. He wrapped his arm around me and held me. He did chase me in the morning, acting as if he just found me there. But I knew what he was doing. He was protecting me from our father discovering me there.”
Adara listened. She had longed for loving parents, but she would have preferred to remain a servant than to have heartless parents like Warrick and Callie’s. Her heart went out to the both of them for what they had suffered.
“There was a time I hated my brother and I regret that now, for I did not know that what he did, he did to protect me. He told my father all lies about me and convinced him I needed to spend time in a convent or I would never be able to secure a favorable marriage. He insisted on taking me there himself. He would not let Father’s warriors escort me alone. I hated him for that. I called him foul names and told him I would never forgive him. I was so angry that I was a hellion at the convent. The one nun got so frustrated with my horrible behavior that she told me it was a good thing my father decided I was to spend time in a convent to prepare me for marriage and lucky that the chieftain my father had planned to marry me off to had wed someone else. When I learn
ed the name of the chieftain, I realized that Warrick had saved me from a horrible fate. The man had been known to beat women unmercifully, his first wife dying from such a beaten. My brother saved my life.”
Adara wiped a tear from her eye.
Callie did the same. “Warrick is the way he is, cold and uncaring, his kindness buried deep, because of our father, a brutal man, who trained his son to be like him.”
“It was good he had you to help him,” Adara said.
“I did nothing, though I wished time and again I could have.”
“But you did help him. He learned how to care because of you,” Adara said.
Callie shook her head.
“How else could he know what it is to care for someone if he had never known it himself? If he did not care, had not a bit of kindness in him, why would he have rescued you from that dreadful marriage arrangement?”
“I never thought of it that way. I only knew he saved me repeatedly from drowning, and from a hellish marriage.” Callie smiled broadly. “It is because of him I met Roark and found true love. I met him when Warrick took me out of the convent and brought me to live with him shortly after our father’s death.” She continued grinning. “As soon as I laid eyes on Roark, I knew I loved him and that I would wed him.” She laughed. “He did not have a chance.” Her laughter faded along with her smile. “Though, I am thrilled you are with child, I am also envious. I fear I will never give Roark a child, though it is not for lack of trying.”
“Did you talk about this with Espy when she was your brother’s healer?”
Callie shook her head. “I was not in residence when Espy was there. I returned home just after the fire in the dungeon. I was with my mother. She was dying. When word came, I knew Warrick would not go and see her, but I felt obligated. He instructed me to close the keep and let what servants were left know that they were welcome to serve him if they so wished, though we both knew none would. There were only two servants left looking after my mum. She was a difficult and demanding woman.” She paused as if the memories were too much for her. “The cleric and I were the only ones who stood over my mother’s grave. The keep sits empty now, neither Warrick nor I wanting any part of it.” Callie threw her hands up. “Enough with sadness. I was hoping you would show me around the village and perhaps introduce me to some of your clan.”
Highlander The Demon Lord (Highland Warriors Trilogy Book 3) Page 23
