She continued, since Helice remained silent. “I will be in our bedchamber resting… as he commanded.”
“A wise choice, since he would be upset if you suffered any more than you already have.”
Hannah left Helice standing guard by the door to Slain’s solar.
Her feet took the stone stairs slowly as her mind swirled with thoughts. Helice remained a mystery to her. She kept a watchful eye on Slain and seemed protective of him, but was it a ruse? Helice had warned her to not go deep into the woods that day she had heard one of the clan betraying Slain. Hannah had wondered then as she did now if Helice had known about it, hence the warning. Slain had also warned her not to go into the woods alone. Could it possibly be that Helice and Slain both knew of what was going on there?
Hannah dropped down on the bed after entering the room. There was far too much going on here that she did not know about, Melvin, one of her father’s trusted warriors being one of them. There was a good chance Melvin would return or—God forbid—her step-brother would show up, the message Melvin returned with not to Nial’s liking. She had to tell Slain who she was, she had to before it was too late.
She changed into her nightdress, intending to wait for her husband. She would tell him everything then and face whatever consequences befell her. And whether wise or not, she was glad she had told him that she loved him. She hoped he felt the same since she believed, wanted desperately to believe, that love was strong enough to conquer evil, not that her mother would agree.
Or would she?
Her mum had warned her endlessly about foolishly losing her heart and the disappointment of love. Yet there were times, rare as they were, that her mum had spoken about love differently and Hannah often wondered what had happened to have her mum be so disappointed by love.
Hannah stretched out on the bed, hoping to stay awake to speak with her husband. If not, she would certainly wake when he slipped into bed with her and she would have a chance to speak with him then. She drifted off soon after cuddling beneath the warm wool blanket.
Slain sat alone drinking in his solar. The message he had received was a good one. All was going according to plan. It would not be long now before he had his revenge. Nothing could stop it.
Love.
He had planned for everything but love. He had long known that he might not survive the battle that was brewing and had made arrangements for his clan’s protection if it proved necessary. He would gladly die revenging his father and clan’s honor. That was until he met Hannah and lost his heart to her.
Now death was something he was not yet ready to meet. He wanted a life with Hannah. He wanted to have children with her, laugh and love with her, and grow old with her. He wanted what he had seen his mum and da had once shared, and had once thought not possible for himself… family and a love that grew through the years.
He stretched his feet out by the fire. He fought the desire to go upstairs to his bedchamber and join his wife in bed, take her in his arms, hold her close, and…
He shook his head. She needed rest. She did not need to be worn out even more by making love and that was what would happen if he slipped in bed with her. It was not his own aching passion that concerned him, for he could contain it. At least he had with other women, he was not so sure about that when it came to his wife. Especially since she had proven to enjoy making love so much. She held back nothing and gave everything. She was more than he could have ever dreamed of or hoped for, she was an amazing, courageous, and loving woman. And she belonged to him and always would, as he always would belong to her. They were one now and never to be parted.
He would have his revenge and he would fight to stay alive for his wife and the future they would have together.
Hannah grew annoyed when she once again woke to an empty bed the next morning. Her husband was neglecting his husbandly duties and she intended to let him know that it was not acceptable. She hurried into her garments and with a quick comb of her hair that did little to tame the fiery, stubborn curls, she rushed out of the room in search of her husband.
She did not have to go far. She found him in the Great Hall. Her steps stilled and familiar flutters filled her stomach when she saw him. Where her red hair was wild and free, his dark hair lay tamed just above his shoulders and while it was hard muscles he wore beneath his garments, it was strength and dignity that he carried for all to see.
His smile when he looked upon her stole her heart all over again and when he stretched his arms out to her, she ran into them.
Slain had grown impatient waiting for her to wake. It had been too long since he had last held her and his arms had felt the emptiness of her absence. Now with her wrapped close around him, he felt whole. Something he had thought he would never feel again.
“You are feeling well?” he asked, after placing a kiss on her forehead.
She honestly had not given thought to her injury, since waking. She had been too annoyed to find her husband absent from their bed to pay it any mind. “I would feel better if my husband did not neglect his husbandly duties,” she said with a soft smile and felt some discomfort, which to her meant her injury had improved some.
Slain could not keep his smile from growing. That she was more concerned he had not joined her last night than her injury squeezed at his heart. He did so love this woman and he wanted her to know it, but he held his tongue when he saw her smile fade.
She rested her hand to his cheek. “Promise me you will always seek our bed each night no matter what happens between us.”
Slain turned his face just enough so that his lips brushed her palm. “That is an easy promise to give and an easier one to keep, wife.” He was pleased when her smile returned and he placed a gentle kiss on her lips.
His sudden scowl had her asking, “What is wrong?”
“I should have given Potsman more than one punch for robbing me of the one thing I love to do the most.”
“What is that?” Hannah asked with a curious scrunch of her brow.
“Kiss you,” Slain said and placed another tender kiss on her lips.
“Though,” Hannah said with fiery spark in her green eyes, “there are other places than the lips you can kiss.”
Slain laughed. “You are a wicked woman.”
“And I do hope you are a wicked man.”
Her suggestive whisper aroused him and he had to fight against his mounting desire not to scoop her up and rush her to their bedchamber. “You tempt me, wife,” he warned playfully.
“My intentions,” she said proudly.
He eased her toward the bench. “You need to eat,”
“I need the nourishment you can give me more.”
“Later,” he whispered.
“Now,” she insisted.
“Your injury—”
“Is far less painful than my need for you,” she begged.
“Hannah—”
She went up on her toes to press her cheek to his and whispered, “Please, husband, I need you.”
It was impossible to deny her soft pleas and besides, he wanted her as much she did him. Why deny themselves?
“You will not kiss me anywhere,” he ordered when she moved away from his cheek to look at him with pleading and playful eyes.
She frowned.
“It is that or nothing,” he said, “and just so you know, it is as difficult for me to order that as it is for you to obey it.”
Hannah’s frown quickly turned to a smile, his words pleasing her. “I will obey your command… for now.”
Slain hugged her tight. “I do love you, wife.”
Hannah felt her breath catch and her heart soar. He loved her. He truly loved her, she could not be any happier and her grin showed it.
“Stop smiling so wide when it pains you,” Slain ordered, a slight wince marring her brow. “I love you, wife, and I will tell you that often so you never forget it. You broke past the shield I kept over my heart and stole it without me knowing, and I am so very pleased that you did.”
His hand brushed over her bruise so faintly it could barely be felt. “And I am so sorry for not being here to protect you.”
“We love each other. That is all that matters,” Hannah said filled with more joy than she ever imagined possible.
“It is all that will ever matter,” Slain said and kissed her cheek.
“I ache for those lips of yours to kiss me in other places,” Hannah whispered teasingly.
“I will gladly and most enjoyably satisfy that ache, wife.” He went to scoop her up in his arms when a bell tolled loudly, followed by a pounding on the door.
“Stay here,” he ordered Hannah and looked past her. “Make sure she stays here.”
Hannah did not care what order he gave her or Helice, she intended to see for herself what was happening. She rushed behind her husband before Helice could reach out and grab her.
Slain threw open the door to find Imus and several clansmen standing there, swords and axes in hand. Imus whispered something to him and Slain nodded, turned, and took Hannah’s hand to step outside with her.
Hannah’s joy was washed away by fear. A short distance away a troop of warriors approached and in the lead was her step-brother Nial.
Chapter 21
Hannah turned to Slain, tugging at his arm. “I need to speak to you before Nial reaches us.”
“You know him?” Slain asked, annoyed that she was familiar with the man he hated beyond reason.
Hannah nodded. “I have been meaning to tell you since shortly after we wed.”
“Tell me what,” Slain asked sharply, sensing her words were not going to please him.
She prayed her confession would not rob her of the man she had come to love with all her heart. “Ross MacFillan is my father and Nial is my step-brother.”
Slain shot her a glare that sent a nervous tremor racing through her. “I should have—”
“Do not say another word,” Slain ordered gruffly, “and hold your tongue in front of your step-brother.”
“That might be difficult,” she admitted.
He brought his face close to hers. “Obey me on this, wife, or the consequences will be severe.”
His harsh tone alone warned her not to defy him and she bit lightly on her tongue, reminding herself to keep hold of it.
Hannah turned to watch Nial ride toward them as if he had already conquered the clan and it now belonged to him. He had about twenty warriors with him and Melvin rode alongside him. Everyone in the village followed to either side of the troop, carrying swords, axes, picks, whatever would serve as a weapon, letting Nial know they were ready to defend themselves.
When Hannah had met Nial, it had not taken her long to realize he was not to be trusted. It was three years ago when she was just turning ten and six years. Her mum had been dead barely over a year when her father had announced he would wed again. She had been surprised how frail and ill the woman had been that he wed. She died not even a year after they wed. Her father had gotten so angry, screaming viciously at her when she had asked him why he had wed the ill woman, that she never spoke of it again to him.
She came to realize soon enough that her father treated Nial like the son he never had and that she was the daughter who would wed a man who would benefit the clan, ensuring his vision of a powerful and wealthy clan.
Hannah watched her step-brother approach, wondering how he would react when he saw her there beside Slain alive and well. He had his mother’s features, common enough, and dark long hair, wearing one side braided. He was slim and of good height, not as tall and muscled as Slain, though he had strength to him, and he was skilled with a sword.
His smug expression changed as soon as his eyes fell on Hannah and she squeezed her husband’s hand and moved closer to him when she saw the look in her step-brother’s eyes turn murderous.
That his wife leaned against him and took firmer hold of his hand, spoke more loudly to Slain than if she had voiced her fear. Her step-brother frightened her and that made him hate the man all the more.
Nial was off his horse as soon as he brought the animal to a stop. He approached Hannah with quick strides, his eyes blazing with fury. “What are you doing here?”
Slain stepped in front of his wife, not letting go of her hand. “You will address me, not my wife.”
Nial stumbled back as if Slain had struck him. “Your wife? It cannot be.”
“Hannah is my wife and our vows have been sealed.”
Nial shook his head. “No. Impossible. Her father did not consent to this.”
“Consent or not, we are wed and will remain so. I suggest you return home and inform Ross MacFillan that Slain MacKewan is wed to his daughter. “
“This union will never stand. You forced her to wed you,” Nial claimed.
Slain stepped aside for Hannah to stand beside him. “Did I force you to wed me, wife?”
Before Hannah could speak, Nial blurted out, “You beat her. Look at her face. You have taken a hand to her. Ross MacFillan will never stand for this. He will see this farce of a marriage annulled and he will make you pay for what you have done to his daughter.” He stretched out his hand. “Come with me, Hannah.”
“Never!” she said, moving closer to her husband, wrapping her arm around his and clinging to it tightly. “You sold me to a man and told him to make sure that I suffered before seeing me dead. He took me to hell on earth… Warrick’s dungeon.”
The shock of her words sent an angry burst through Slain, though he showed no outward sign of it.
“I did no such thing,” Nial said. “You ran away and got yourself snatched up by some villainous man.”
“Is that what you told my father?” she asked, wondering if her father had worried about her disappearance.
“Your father knows your penchant for disobeying him,” Nial said and looked to Slain. “You must know by now she is not an obedient wife.”
Hannah hated Nial at that moment, since by speaking to her step-brother she was disobeying her husband. But how could she stand there and not defend herself against this man who did nothing but lie?
“Hannah is a courageous wife who does not fear confronting a liar,” Slain said.
Nial’s face flushed with anger. “How dare you call me a liar.”
“I dare speak the truth. Something you never do,” Slain said and took a quick step toward the man, startling him enough to have him take a stumbling step back. “Now be gone from my land and tell Ross MacFillan that if he has an ounce of courage or honor that he will come speak with me.”
“Ross MacFillan will come here that is for sure,” Nial said, waving a raised fist at Slain as he stepped back, not stumbling this time. “But it will be his warriors he comes with to rescue his daughter and lay claim to this land.”
He mounted and turned, his warriors following, though not Melvin. He remained where he was.
“You are well, Hannah,” the older warrior asked concern heavy in his thoughtful expression.
“I am well and happy, Melvin. My husband does not raise a hand to me. He is good to me and I love him,” Hannah said, trying to hold back her tears.
“I am glad to hear that, but you know that your father will come for you,” Melvin warned, a sadness in his eyes for what would come.
“I will see to her father,” Slain said.
Melvin nodded at Slain, then turned to Hannah. “I did not believe you ran away, though I would not have blamed you. Stay safe, Hannah.”
“I will keep Hannah safe,” Slain assured the man.
Melvin gave a nod to Slain, turned, and rode off.
Hannah found her tears difficult to contain and she turned her face to her husband’s chest to hide the ones that slipped out. She did not want to show weakness in front of the clan, but her heart was breaking at the thought that her father would attack the Clan MacKewan because of her, and how, without an army of warriors, would the clan defend themselves?
Slain’s arms wrapped around her and held her close as he spoke to the clan. “Fear not
, I will see you all kept safe.”
Hannah kept her face buried against her husband’s chest. She felt ashamed for not revealing her identity sooner, but what if she had? Her father would have been informed and she would have been returned home to what? Her step-brother devising another way to see her dead? But would not one death be better than a whole clan’s death?
But then she had never intended to wed Slain MacKewan let alone fall in love with him.
Slain kept his arm around her as he led her inside the keep and to his solar. After shutting the door behind them, he lifted her head gently and placed a tender kiss on her lips. “You will tell me everything, wife.”
Hannah could not contain her tears any longer, they fell freely down her cheeks, and once again she buried her face against her husband’s chest and cherished the feel of his strong arms wrapping protectively and comfortingly around her.
Slain wanted Nial dead even more so now after hearing what Hannah had said he had done to her. Her tears strengthened his resolve to see it done. He would enjoy taking the man’s life and he would make sure he suffered unimaginably before he did.
He walked his wife over to a chair to sit, but she refused to let go of him, so he stood there holding her until her tears subsided.
A knock at the door had Helice entering with a tankard that she placed on the small table next to the chair. “Chamomile.”
Hannah raised her head when she heard the door close.
“Sit and drink the hot brew, and we will talk.”
She went to wipe her tears away, but his hand brushed hers gently aside and he wiped at her wet cheeks.
“No one will take you from me. I promise you that,” he said and kissed each cheek, then with a firm hand on her shoulder forced her to sit. He picked up the tankard and handed it to her. “Drink.”
Hannah did as he said, her mind awash with where to start, what to say, when it came to her. “Forgive me for not being honest with you from the start.”
“You need not apologize for making a wise, if not difficult, choice and I commend you for doing so. Where else would you be safe from your heartless step-brother but in the home of your enemy. It was not your fault I forced a wedding upon you.”
Embraced by a Highlander Page 18
