He was on dangerous ground here, his manhood responding so easily and quickly to a woman. His needs had always been plentiful, but he controlled them and never let any take command of him. Not so with Hannah. When he had first kissed her, he knew he wanted more from her, and in time he would have it. But these innocent kisses of hers were proving too difficult to ignore and growing impossible not to respond to.
He had no plans of bedding her just yet. She was more a means to an end of a problem he had not known how to solve. Her presence here had solved it for him, but now he wondered if it had created more of a problem.
He shook his head. It mattered not. She was his wife and would remain so and he would allow her to get only so close to him. He would have no trouble keeping his distance from her. Then why did his lips seem to ache for another taste of her?
Hannah was elated that she could come and go as she pleased. She would feel less confined that way, less a prisoner.
She stopped a moment on her way to the kitchen, her fingers going to her lips. Instinct had had her kissing him again. Why? Why had it felt like the most natural thing for her to do? She had not given either kiss thought. It had just happened, as if it was what she was supposed to do, wanted to do, and that confused her even more. How could she feel that way toward a man that she barely knew?
She continued to the kitchen and entered with a smile to find Helice scrubbing the table. Hannah was impressed with how clean Helice kept the kitchen and she loved the delicious scents that always filled the room.
“Can I help with anything?” Hannah asked.
Helice stopped scrubbing and glared at her. “Do you not know your place? You are wife to the clan chief.” She shook her head. “Forgive me, I should not speak to you so disrespectfully.”
“Wife to the clan chief has yet to settle in, so I could use a reminder now and again,” Hannah said. “I am used to keeping busy and with only you and me to see to the keep, I wish to do my share, regardless of my position.”
“The chief would not approve.”
Hannah smiled, knowing full well the answer to the question she was about to ask. “But as his wife, am I not in charge of seeing to the care of the keep?”
“You are,” Helice said with a nod more resolved to the fact than acceptance of it.
“Then I will do whatever I feel needs doing,” Hannah announced.
Helice had no choice but to say, “Whatever you wish. The chief takes his mid-day meal alone in his solar. I will serve yours in the Great Hall.”
Hannah was not used to eating alone. Her meals had always been shared in the Great Hall where many of the clan would gather. There would be talk, sometimes tales told or songs sung. She had enjoyed those times, at least until her mum had died, then everything changed.
“I will return soon. I am going to fetch my basket of heather,” Hannah said, though she did not have to tell Helice where she was going, but she wanted her to know if Slain should ask.
Hannah hurried her steps almost afraid that Slain would rush out behind her, having changed his mind, and prevent her from taking another step. Or was it that she worried about him summoning her?
The thought of tonight and performing her wifely duties in bed poked at her and caused a flutter in her stomach.
Slain was a stranger to her. How was she to be intimate with a stranger? But then her father had intended to wed her to someone who she would not have met until their wedding day, so how different was that from this? Did she count her blessings or pray that she had not condemned herself to a worse fate?
Her basket of heather sat untouched where she had left it on the hillside. She snatched it up and returned to the keep with slow steps, much preferring the slight chill the clouds had brought to the dark chill of the keep. It was obvious why no one from the village ventured near it, the thickets with their sharp thorns that had been left to grow wild around it warned anyone away and the crumbling stones only added to its inhospitable appearance. It was no wonder there was no joy to this place that should be the heart of the clan.
She could not help but wonder why the village was so well-kept when the keep sat neglected. If anything, it was usually the keep that outshined the village, so why was it the opposite here?
The question slipped from her tongue upon entering the kitchen. “Helice, why does the village thrive and not the keep?”
Helice shook her head. “That is not for me to say, but you should be aware that there is little wealth here.”
“How can that be?” Hannah asked surprised. “The Clan MacKewan is known for their wealth and power.”
“I do not have a loose tongue.”
Meaning she would tell Hannah nothing, though that did not keep Hannah from persisting. “But how can the village do so well when the keep does not? It makes no sense.”
All she received from Helice were tightly pursed lips and arms crossed over her chest, announcing more loudly than if she had spoken that she had nothing to say.
Hannah gave up and turned to leave.
“Your bedchamber is next to your husband’s. I set a fire to chase the chill, but I have yet had time to clean it. You will need it tonight since the chief always sleeps alone.”
Hannah turned a pleasant smile on her. “You need not worry about my bedchamber. I will tend it myself.”
“Whatever you wish,” Helice said and returned to her chore, turning her back on Hannah.
Hannah climbed the stairs to the third floor and her new bedchamber. She walked as silently as she could past Slain’s bedchamber, not wanting to disturb him if he was there. Or perhaps it was that she did not want to alert him to her presence.
She pushed the door open slowly and stepped inside. It was a nice sized room with a bed big enough to fit two people. A chest sat in front of the end of the bed, dust covering it. Spying a few candles, Hannah sat her basket of heather on the chest and draped her cloak over it, then collected the candles and lit them from the flames in the fireplace and placed them in their holders around the room so she could have a better look.
There were a few personal items on a narrow table that sat against the wall opposite the hearth; a couple of worn bone combs, a few small stones in a shallow crock and a piece of embroidery, dust covering its beauty.
“They belonged to my mother.”
Hannah jumped and turned, her hand going to her chest fearful her pounding heart would burst from it, her husband had frightened her so. And as if her heart did not pound enough, it only increased, seeing him standing there shirtless. He was lean, his middle rippling with muscle and his arms defined with them. The fire’s light flickered across his chest like hungry tongues licking his bare flesh.
“Wrap them and put them away in the chest. There are garments in there that might fit you or if you are skilled with a needle you can alter them to fit you. Helice will see to readying the room for you.”
“She has already lit the fire, I will see the rest done myself,” Hannah said, his sudden scowl letting her know he did not approve.
“It is not for you to do.”
“There is far too much for Helice to do here without adding more to her chores. I can see to it myself and perhaps I can have a village lass or two come help.”
“I will not have my solitude disturbed.”
“I will make certain you do not even know they are here,” she said.
“See that you do.” He turned to leave, stopped, and turned back again. “There is no lock on this door. I will enter at will and you will welcome me.”
Hannah did not know what made her ask, “Is there a lock on your door?”
A barely detectable grin surfaced on his face. “I will let you find that out for yourself.”
Hannah stared as he left the room, leaving the door open behind him. Was he inviting her to his bedchamber if she dared have the courage to go there? Darn if her curiosity was not itching to find out.
The day wore on drawing closer to night and Hannah kept herself busy except for when sh
e sat in the Great Hall, eating alone. Though the food was good, she did not have much taste for it, her thoughts more on the evening ahead.
She ate some of the meal, not able to finish all of it, and returned to cleaning her bedchamber. Helice had left her clean linens for the bed and she was pleased at the fresh scent of heather that permeated the room from the sprigs she had thrown in the hearth earlier.
There would be no returning to what she once had, but then what she once had had disappeared as well. This room, this keep, this clan was her life now until… those who searched for her found her. Only then would she know if her husband intended their marriage to last.
Hannah ate even less for the evening meal, recalling the memories of how it had felt to feel hunger not even forcing her to take another bite. Helice shook her head when she collected her bowl, but said nothing. Hannah retired to her bedchamber and her stomach knotted even more when she saw the white nightdress that she had worn after her accident laying on the bed in wait. A bucket of water sat near the hearth along with a clean cloth.
Helice had left the items so that she could wash and prepare herself for her wedding night ahead with her husband.
Hannah’s hands trembled as she washed herself and used the combs she had yet to wrap and put in the chest, to run through her wild hair that refused to be tamed, letting it fall where it may, often around her face in stubborn curls.
Once she was done, her nightdress on, she sat on the bed waiting for the summons or for her husband to enter her room.
It grew later and later and no word came from Slain.
Finally, too tired to remain sitting there in wait, she lay back and no soon as she did, the day’s exhausting events caught up with her and she quickly fell asleep.
The door creaked open slowly and Slain approached the bed just as slowly. He stared down at his sleeping wife, her bright red hair flaring out around her head on the pillow. Her slim lips were parted slightly, a slow even breath escaping in a soft snore. The white nightdress she wore was gathered up, exposing one slim leg and the bruise that was fading there.
She was beautiful and once he touched her, he would tarnish that beauty. He wondered why he had been so reckless to make her his wife. He could have found another way to meet the demand made on him. He did not have to involve Hannah.
Yet there was something about her that he was drawn to with an overwhelming urge he had never felt before. She had strength and courage, but then many Highland women did or they did not survive the wild and unpredictable Highlands. She showed vulnerability at times, though was quick to hide it, and there were things she had yet to share with him.
He could have refused to grant her safe haven here and send her on her way, not caring if she had no place to go. But it was a thought that he had easily dismissed.
He had need of a wife and she had been there, it was as simple as that. Or so he repeatedly reminded himself.
Seal your vows and be done with it, a voice in his head demanded. He would but not just yet. He had to make sure that she understood that while he would protect her, always keep her safe from harm, couple with her, plant his seed in her, he could not now, not ever… love her.
He had no love left to give.
Slain reached for the blanket at the end of the bed and pulled it up over her, tucking it around her. He then surprised himself when he brushed his lips lightly over hers as if returning the light kisses she had placed on his lips twice that day. Once again he grew aroused.
“Sleep well, wife,” he whispered, “for the savage will come for you soon enough.”
Chapter 12
Two days wed and her marriage vows were yet to be sealed and her husband yet to be seen. She had even attempted to enter the east wing to see if he had gone there and to see what else she might discover, but it had been locked. After searching endlessly for Slain, she had decided that he had either vanished from sight or had left the keep altogether. When she had asked Helice if she had seen him, the woman had snapped at her.
“I am not the chief’s keeper.”
Hannah wondered if Slain had dire plans for her or if he now regretted their union and intended to release her from it since their vows had not been consummated. Then he would send her away and she would be right back where she started. She was a fool to think she could find safety anywhere.
You are a woman. You were born vulnerable.
Another of her mum’s wise words and never had she felt the truth of those words more until her step-brother had made his strength known. Even now she was vulnerable to the will of her husband. But did she need to be?
Once, she had thought to find a husband who would love her. She knew now that had been nothing more than a dream. Her mum had warned her that she would be wiser to find a husband who would be good to her, treat her well. That love was rare for women who had duties to uphold. And her mum had been good at upholding her duties to a husband who had shown little wont to spend time with his wife.
Hannah had always hoped for more, but now that was not possible, but did it mean she had to remain vulnerable? If she did not establish a life here with her husband, then was she not leaving herself open to harm from those who would eventually come for her?
She admired the healer who had so courageously freed her from that awful prison. Could she not find courage to free herself with this marriage? Slain was not a demanding husband. He kept to himself, bothering little with her and he had not forced himself upon her.
Was what she had been looking for right in front of her? Could she find a good life here and be a good wife so that her husband would defend her without hesitation?
Know what you are willing to give, to endure, to get what you want or what is necessary.
More of her mum’s sage advice that pertained to her situation.
What was she willing to do to stay alive? No, more importantly, what was she willing to do to no longer be left vulnerable to others?
Somehow she would find a way through her difficulties and survive, and be left defenseless no more. Besides, she found her husband’s lips quite nice, so perhaps it would be no chore to couple with him. Though, she had wondered how such an intimate act could be shared between strangers. Her mum had talked of it as if it was simply a duty one did. While the servant lasses she had heard talk about it laughed and teased each other about how they preferred men who cared about pleasing a woman and not just themselves. Her curiosity and her own desires that would surface from time to time had her wondering about it, more so when her father had begun talking about arranging a marriage for her.
Now here she was married and still wondering.
Hannah chased her thoughts away as she walked to the village. Thinking on them and doing nothing would do her little good. It was why when she saw the sun shining brightly that she had hurried out of the keep toward the village. After the last two days with rain forcing her to remain inside, she realized just how empty and lonely the keep was. It was as if all inside were withering and dying. Even the heather she had sat around withered faster than usual. Life needed to be stirred back into the keep and that she could not do alone.
She hoped to start by finding at least two women who would help in the keep for a few hours a day. She knew she could demand help as Slain had done, but that had not worked well. Between Helice and Slain, the women of the village were just too fearful to step foot inside the inhospitable place.
How she would get anyone to do that, she did not know, but she would try.
Hannah thought the villagers friendly, calling out greetings to her and bobbing their head in respect. She did not realize that it was her vibrant smile that had them responding to her.
As soon as Blair saw her, she hurried over to her. “You look… well.”
“Is there a reason I should not look well?” Hannah asked and realizing what the woman might mean added, “Slain is not the savage you think him to be.”
Blair shook her head, her eyes popping wide. “I meant no disrespect.”
“Then be grateful, for it is not a side of your husband you wish to see,” Blair warned.
Having heard her father and others speak of the savage and seeing how isolated Slain kept himself, Hannah paid caution to Blair’s words. He was a man with a dark side and she would do well to remember that.
“Is there something that brings you to the village today or did you just need to escape that morbid keep.” Blair bit her bottom lip as soon as the words were out. “I have a loose tongue,” she said in a way of an apology.
“Though you can be blunt, you speak the truth and I appreciate that from a friend.”
Blair grinned. “I never thought Slain’s wife would call me friend, but it is proud I am that she does.”
“You were right about both. There is something I need, and I wanted… some time away from the keep.”
“What is it you need?” Blair asked, though cautiously.
Hannah was about to ask if there were two lasses who would be willing to spend a few hours a week helping her, not Helice, in the keep when her eyes caught sight of two men with axes chopping at a tree.
What she requested surprised her as well as Blair. “Are there men who would be willing to chop away the thickets around the keep and some women who would help me ready my garden for planting? The keep has been neglected long enough.”
Sorrow filled Blair’s eyes as she glanced at the stone edifice. “It was once the heart of the village… of the clan. There were celebrations, tales told, songs sung, and dancing. It was filled with such joy.”
“What happened?” Hannah asked.
“The former chief, Slain’s father, was not a wise man when it came to choosing what battles to fight and friends to have. The clans and men he had pledged his loyalty to lost heavily and the promises made him were for naught. Slain had tried to warn his father but he refused to listen. That was when Slain went and fought alongside Warrick. He returned with enough riches to refill the coffers, but when he left again, some young warrior convinced the old chief to use some of his wealth to join with other chiefs to fight an encroaching clan. The old fool learned too late that he was helping the clans that his son was fighting against. All that Slain had given him was gone.” Blair shook her head. “That was the worse winter ever. We barely had enough food, the harvest being pitiful that year, and Slain’s mum took ill and died. She was the most loving and giving woman you could have ever met. Slain’s da blamed himself and all believed he died of a broken heart only two months after he lost his wife. Slain returned home to a devastated clan.”
Embraced by a Highlander Page 9
