“Nothing is as painful as losing my Anna.”
*
Rogan woke alone in bed and let a string of oaths fly. Once dressed, he headed to his father’s bedchamber. He should have known his wife would not leave his ailing father’s side, even though she had insisted that she would come wake him when it was his turn to sit watch over Angus. She had also chased Bertha off to rest, though she had wanted to take the first watch. Emma would not hear of it, insisting it was necessary that she stay and make certain all went well.
He entered his father’s bedchambers to find his wife slumped in a chair asleep beside the bed. His father slept soundly and although he was pale, he looked at peace. No pain knitted his brow as it did last night.
Bertha bustled in shortly after him and stood beside him at the end of the bed.
“He looks better,” she whispered, “though your wife could do with some rest, since she has been here far longer than needed.”
“You will sit with my father?” Rogan asked, though he knew she would.
“I will and I will also see that our two healers alternate time with me so that it is not necessary for Emma or you to sit watch.”
“Excellent,” Rogan said, knowing his wife would protest and knowing he would not give her a choice.
“You best get her to bed and leave her there alone,” Bertha said with a poke of her elbow to his side. She went right on talking, not giving him a chance to reprimand her. “I see the love and passion in her eyes every time she looks at you. And being a man, especially one who loves his wife as much as she loves him, you are not going to deny her and she needs rest. She worked hard to save your foolish father’s life. So put her to bed and leave her be for her own well-being.”
“Her love for me is that obvious?” he asked when he should have admonished her.
Bertha grinned. “You both wear your love for each other openly. A fool could even see it. Now go put her to bed, not take her to bed.”
Rogan shook his head. He did not need Bertha telling him what to do. He had had every intention of doing exactly that, though he would have preferred to take his wife to bed.
He walked over to Emma and gently lifted her in his arms.
Her eyes flickered open and she smiled. “Right where I want to be, in my husband’s arms.”
“I am putting you to bed.”
“That is even better,” she said and snuggled her face against his chest.
It would be a struggle to leave her alone in bed when he wanted so badly to make love to her and she obviously wanted the same. So, he was relieved when he found Liam waiting outside his bedchamber door.
“We need to talk,” Liam said. “Is Emma all right?”
“Nothing sleep will not cure,” Rogan said. “Let me settle her first.”
“I will wait in the Great Hall.”
“No,” Rogan said abruptly. “Wait here and make certain the door stays open.”
Liam grinned.
“Not one word,” Rogan warned and Liam laughed.
Rogan placed his wife gently on the bed, removed her boots, and pulled the blanket over her. He did not trust himself to remove any of her garments.
“Rogan,” she whispered in a husky voice that tempted and invited.
“Later, my love,” he said, giving her cheek a tender kiss. “You rest. I have matters I must see to.” She went to protest and he pressed a finger to her lips. “Rest.”
He quickly left the room, shutting the door behind him, and listened to Liam laugh the whole way down the hall.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The Great Hall was empty except for a few servants. Rogan and Liam sat at one of the trestle tables closest to the hearth. Servants were quick to place platters of food and pitchers of drink in front of them, and then disappear.
“It took a skillful hand and a knowledgeable mind to do what your wife did last night.”
“I know. I was in awe watching her.”
“The way she handled your father was remarkable. You have an exceptional wife,” Liam said and raised his tankard.
“That I do,” Rogan agreed and raised his tankard as well. “Now, what did you want to tell me?”
Liam lowered his voice, though no servant stood close enough to hear them. “I have found signs that the ghost warriors watch us and that unsettles me.”
Rogan nodded. “If you found signs, then it is obvious the ghost warriors want us to know they watch us. You found these signs while I was gone?”
“I did, and I cannot help but wonder what they want from us.”
Rogan shared how the ghost warriors had made themselves known to him and Emma while at Emma’s home.
“They warn you to stay away and yet Heather asks for help. What will you do?” Liam asked.
“There is little recourse left to me that does not have tremendous consequences to it. The Dark Dragon’s warriors are superior in every way and their number huge. We could lose hundreds of men to him and still not conquer him, and then what? We become more vulnerable, an easy prey for a mighty warrior clan. And if the King should side with the Dark Dragon, then I bring the King’s ire down upon my clan.”
“You are caught in a trap.”
“The question is, though, who planned and set the trap?” Rogan asked.
“It would seem the Dark Dragon.”
“At first glance, it would seem that way, but what if that is what the person wants everyone to believe?”
“But who has cause to bring this about?” Liam asked.
“I think that is what I need to learn before I do anything else.”
Rogan and Liam continued talking and eating until both men took their leave. Rogan did not trust himself to remain in the keep, near his wife, so he went off to occupy himself elsewhere.
It was not until several hours later that he returned, hoping his wife had a good rest, for he was eager to join her in bed. He opened the door to his bedchamber quietly in case she still slept.
A growl rose deep from his chest when he saw the bed empty. He headed for his father’s room with all intentions of throwing her over his shoulder and carting her back to their bedchamber where he planned to keep her for the next couple of hours.
Then the thought struck that his father had worsened and Bertha had summoned her. He hurried his steps and entered the room only to have Bertha raise a finger to her lips for him to be quiet, and then she shooed him out of the room, though followed.
“He rests comfortably, the fever lingering, though thankfully not spiking. Emma insists he is to rest and not be disturbed.”
“When was Emma here?” Rogan asked.
“Hours ago. I told her that she should listen to her own advice.”
“I will see that she does,” he said and turned and stormed off.
He expected to find her without a problem, a foolish thought on his part. After searching for some time, he came to the disturbing conclusion that she had gone into the woods on her own and had possibly gotten lost. He had quickly summoned Liam and a few warriors to begin searching the woods when he saw her stumble out of the storehouse, brushing dirt off her garments.
“Do not dare grin at me,” Rogan warned Liam, who laughed as he walked away. Rogan made his way over to her and was about to release his anger, when she smiled.
“I have missed you,” she said, throwing her arms around him and hugging him tight.
She vanquished his anger with loving words and a hug, and his arms circled her, squeezing her tight.
“Hmmm,” she sighed. “It feels so wonderful to be in your arms.”
How did he chastise her when she greeted him so favorably? Still though, she needed to know that she could not simply go off and disappear. “I feared something dreadful had happened to you.”
“How could that be? Surely, I am safe in your village,” she said, informing him of what he should already know.
“Of course you are safe here, but I thought perhaps you had gone off to explore the woods.”
&n
bsp; “I would never venture that far when your father might require my attention,” she said. “I will save that pleasure for another time—”
“You will not go alone,” Rogan ordered.
“Do you forget I have tracking skills? I have ventured into unknown woods before and not gotten lost,” she said and smiled again, “though I intend to have Liam show me the area before I go foraging in the woods alone.”
“Whether you can track or not, you will never venture into the woods alone,” Rogan ordered empathically. His hand went up when she looked to protest. “Do not defy me on this, Emma. You will do as I say.”
Emma stepped away from him annoyed, her smile fading. She was not accustomed to her freedom being curtailed. She was more accustomed to doing as she pleased.
He did not like that she walked away from him and paced, or that her brow knitted in frustration. “I do not do this to rob you of the freedom you have enjoyed. I do it for my own sanity, so please take pity on your poor husband, for I do not know what I would do without you.”
Her smile returned, and she sighed and hurried to throw her arms around his neck once again. “You say the loveliest things to me.”
“Then you will do as I say?” he asked, pressing his lips to her brow.
“I will not lie to you, so I cannot promise I will do as you ask, though I will try,” she said. “Old habits die hard and sometimes I simply take off for the woods without thinking, especially when I find I am in need of solace.”
“You have me for that now,” he said and reaffirmed it with a kiss that left no doubt.
“And how long did you intend to take before you introduced your wife to me?” a sharp female voice reprimanded.
Rogan shook his head, smiled, and released his wife as he turned and spread his arms out to the woman, “Ina.”
Emma was startled by the red-haired, shapely beauty. That they were friends were obvious by the way she had spoken to him. When she saw Liam approach with a smile, she knew the woman must be his wife.
“Emma,” Rogan said, “I want you to meet Ina, Liam’s wife and a woman who is like a pesky, little sister to me.”
Ina swatted his arm as she stepped out of his embrace. “It is your own fault that I am a pest. You both were forever trying to be rid of me when we were young.”
Liam slipped his arm around his wife and smiled. “But you made that impossible and in the process taught me much about tracking.”
Ina swatted him as well. “We three were meant to be family, Rogan my brother and you my husband, and I was not about to have it any other way.” She stepped away from her husband and reached out and hugged Emma. “Now I have a sister, something I have always longed for.”
Emma returned the hug, having missed the sisterly hugs she had so often shared with her own sisters.
Ina took hold of Emma’s hand. “When you have time come and visit with me. There is much I can tell you about your husband.”
“Ina,” Rogan warned teasingly.
“I would like that,” Emma said.
Ina nodded. “Aye, and it is pleased I am that you are here, for the villagers boast of what a fine healer we now have. You have attended many births?”
Emma heard the anxiousness in her voice and wondered over it. “Aye, many. Are you with child?”
Ina’s smile vanished. “We have yet to be blessed.”
Emma heard the sorrow in Ina’s voice and saw the concern on Liam’s face for his wife. She understood now. Ina was unable to get with child.
“We should talk,” Emma said, hoping that perhaps she could help Ina in some way.
Ina grew anxious. “I would like that.”
“My lady, my lady,” someone shouted, and they all turned to see a servant from the keep rushing toward them. “It is the laird. He needs you.”
Emma hoisted her skirt and took off in a run. Rogan was quick to follow.
It did not surprise Emma to find that Angus’s fever had spiked. She had been expecting it. It was whether she could get him through it that worried her the most. She was quick to examine the wound again and was pleased to see that the swelling had gone down and though the redness remained, it had not grown worse.
“I am dying,” Angus moaned. “I am dying.”
“Now is the time to fight… not surrender,” Emma encouraged and did all she could so his words would not ring true.
Rogan thought he would have to carry her from the room hours later when his father’s fever lessened and he fell into a fitful sleep.
“You need nourishment,” Rogan insisted, his hand firm around her arm so that she could not slip away from him as he escorted her out of the room.
“He may need me.”
“You will be summoned if he does, but right now you are going to the Great Hall with me and we are going to eat,” Rogan said in a tone that left no room for her to argue, not that she did not try.
“But I am not—”
Her stomach gurgled so loudly that it had both their eyes opening wide.
“I guess I am hungry,” she said with a laugh.
They sat in the Great Hall enjoying a meal and talking. He debated sharing Liam’s news that there were signs of ghost warriors nearby. He feared she might attempt to find them and try to talk with them. They had, however, been honest with each other thus far and he wanted to keep it that way.
“It would seem they are keeping watch on us,” Emma said after he had related the news to her.
“Another reason you are not to go off alone,” he said adamantly.
“This is so perplexing,” she said with a sigh.
“No, it is simple. You keep me aware of where you go, and no disappearing into woods, until we can make sense of this.”
“That is not what I was referring to,” she said with a wave of her hand. “None of this makes any sense.”
“On that we agree,” he said. “And you agree not to cause me worry?”
She kissed his cheek. “I will do my best.”
He slipped his arm around her and leaned down to whisper in her ear, “Perhaps I should keep you busy in our bedchamber.”
Emma slipped her hand beneath the table and beneath his plaid in answer.
Rogan sucked in a breath as her hand began to toy with him. “Be careful, my love, or you will find yourself upstairs in our bedchamber for the remainder of the day.”
“Is that a promise because it certainly fails as a threat,” she murmured and gave him a hard squeeze.
He grinned. “You are going to pay for this.”
“Again,” she grinned, “a promise, for once again it fails as a threat. And whether it is either, I suggest you make good on it posthaste, since I am so very wet and ready for you.” She felt him swell in her hand. “Hmmm, and you are so ready for me.”
He nuzzled her neck. “That is it. Now you are my prisoner.”
She giggled softly. “Will you tie me up?”
“Do not tempt me,” he groaned at the image her words provoked.
He grabbed her hand and moved it off him. “Our bedchamber now,” he ordered.
Before they made another move, one of Rogan’s warriors hurried into the Great Hall and approached him with haste.
“A problem with two warriors, my lord,” the man said anxiously.
Rogan knew he would not be summoned if the problem between the two men had not gotten out of hand. He turned to Emma. “You will remain right here until I get back.”
She pressed her cheek to his. “I will be waiting for you naked in bed.”
“Emma, so help me—”
“Do not make threats or promises you will not keep, for you will sorely disappoint me.”
“Never would I disappoint you,” he whispered and kissed her gently.
She sighed, her elbows on the table and her chin resting in her hands as she watched him walk away. She could not be more pleased that she had wed such a loving and wonderful man. She was truly blessed.
She finished the cider in her tankard befor
e she headed for their bedchamber, only to be stopped by a servant. It seemed the cook wished to speak with her if it was a convenient time.
Surely, Rogan would be several minutes at least. So, there were a few moments to spare. She followed the servant to the kitchen and one look told her that much work needed to be done here.
The cook, a stalwart, solidly built woman asked if Emma would inspect her kitchen and pass on any advice necessary. That was all Emma needed. She set the whole staff to cleaning the kitchen. While they did, she went to inspect the kitchen garden.
It was a poor excuse for one. She bent down and scooped up a handful of soil. She squished it between her fingers, weighed it in her hand, and then let it fall between her fingers. It felt tired. The monk had taught her how to judge the soil for planting. It was one of the reasons Macinnes crops did so well. Now she would see that the MacClennan crops did the same.
Some parts of the soil required rest while the whole patch required feeding. She would have the patch cleared and made larger, then see to nourishing it. In a couple of weeks it would be ready to receive seeds and produce hardy plants.
She turned to return to the kitchen and was startled by a man draped in a worn, tattered cloak that smelled so bad she took a step back.
“Sorry, my lady, I mean no offense, but I must speak with you.”
Emma stepped closer, the voice having a familiar cadence to it.
“Please, so no one suspects anything, bring me food and drink. I will wait by the large oak tree,” he said with a bob of his head, then slowly plodded over to the tree, a few feet from the kitchen garden.
Emma quickly gathered a loaf of bread, cheese, and a pitcher of ale and joined the stranger, under the tree.
“Thank you, my lady,” he said and raised his head for their eyes to meet as he accepted the items she handed him.
Her breath caught and for a moment words were lost to her. It was Bruce, one of Patience’s most trusted warriors.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Is my sister well and why do you disguise yourself?” Emma asked and stopped before she flooded him with more questions.
“Let me explain, and then if you have questions I will answer them as best as possible,” Bruce explained calmly.
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