She hurried down to the Great Hall, hoping to catch Royden before he left the keep for the day, but she was too late.
“He left some time ago,” Bethany said when she saw the disappointment on Oria’s face.
Several of the trestle tables and benches had been repaired and arranged in the Great Hall. The room was far different than Oria had remembered it. It felt so cold and empty without the beautiful tapestries hanging on the walls and the long table, with beautiful linens draped over it, that once sat on the dais along with several throne-like chairs. It hurt to see how badly the lovely room had been gutted.
“Sit and I’ll bring you food and drink,” Bethany said.
Oria shook her head. “I’m not hungry.”
“At least take a cloak, mistress, there’s a brisk chill in the air today,” Bethany called out.
Oria gabbed one of the many wool cloaks hanging on the pegs by the door and swung it over her shoulders to tie at her neck. She was glad that she did. A chill did fill the air and gray clouds dotted the sky. It was one of those unpredictable weather days in the Highlands but then weather was always unpredictable here.
She walked toward the village, smiling at the sound of chatter, laughter, children playing, and work being done. Life was finally returning to the Clan MacKinnon and she was grateful to be part of it.
Before she went to find her husband, she made a stop at Emily’s cottage. The young woman had been accompanying her when she had regularly visited here and tended those in need. Oria smiled when she caught sight of Emily stepping out of her cottage, a basket in hand.
Emily saw her at the same time and waved.
Oria wondered how she got around, she had grown so large with child, though it might have been her petite size that made her protruding stomach appear so huge. Her bright red curls bounced out from around her head even though she had tried to contain them with combs, and a spattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks actually added to her lovely features.
“Feeling well this morning?” Oria asked when she reached Emily.
Emily’s hand went to rub her rounded stomach. “Well enough, though I’ll be pleased when he’s born. He so active I barely sleep.”
“Two months is it?”
Emily nodded and laughed. “Not soon enough. I can’t tell you how pleased I am, as well as everyone else here, that you are the new mistress of Clan MacKinnon. It’s what should have been and glad we are that it’s finally done.” She patted her stomach again. “And soon you’ll be carrying the heir to the Clan MacKinnon.”
How that could be when her husband didn’t touch her, barely acknowledged her, she didn’t know. Though, she’d let no one know that.
“Does someone need tending?” Oria asked, pointing to the basket and wanting to avoid any more talk of future bairns.
Emily drew back the cloth covering the top of the basket. “Bread for Mildred, her hands have been more painful than usual and some for Calla. She can use all the food she can get with five lads and a husband to feed. Though, all are confident with Royden’s return home that food will once again be plentiful.”
After walking with Emily to Mildred’s cottage and speaking briefly with the old woman, Oria continued on through the village. There was so much that needed Royden’s attention, she now wondered if he truly had avoided her or he was simply too busy to pay her heed.
She got her answer when shortly afterward, she spotted Royden talking with Penn and sent him a wave along with a smile. He acknowledged neither. He turned and walked away, Penn following after him.
She thought to go after him, but what good would it do confronting him in front of others? What was between them was private and she intended to keep it that way.
Feeling a bit removed from things, her routine having been completely changed, she decided to take herself into the woods. She had shared lovely moments with Raven and Purity in the woods. Their friendship with Purity had barely time to form before the attack, yet it had been as if the three of them had been longtime friends. The memory of their friendship had sustained her through difficult times. The three of them shared a special connection, one not only forged out of necessity, but love as well. It was a connection no one could break and the last five years had proven that.
She entered the woods and made her way to the spot she and Raven and Purity had once gathered. It was a spot they had bonded and became friends in a brief but significant time. She thought to go deeper into the woods, but decided it presently wasn’t a wise choice.
A glance up had her smiling. The trees were thick with sprouting buds. Soon they would all blossom, creating a canopy overhead and an oasis of privacy. Here is where she would miss her friends the most and also where the memories of that horrid day would too often set in.
She lowered herself to the ground and try as she might not to shed tears, she couldn’t help it. That day five years ago had torn family and friends apart, destroyed lives, and altered futures. She would never forget it and she would never stop shedding tears when the memories rose up to torment her.
Royden had purposely ignored his wife. Every time he saw her, she looked more beautiful than the time before. And every time he saw her, his loins would stir with such an ache that he had to distance himself for fear of doing something foolish.
He wanted his wife with a fierce hunger. A hunger he had never known before. Even the hunger he had had for her five years ago when they were to wed was nothing to the hunger he had for her now. Perhaps it was because he was now far too familiar with the pleasure of coupling. And he wondered—more ached—to see if he would find the deep satisfaction he was looking for with Oria that he had never achieved with another woman. Whatever it was, he didn’t know how long he could fight it.
When he had seen her smile, had seen the way her soft blonde hair had fallen haphazardly around her neck and face, his first thought had been to free her hair of the combs and run his fingers through her silky waves, inhale the fresh scent of her, and taste the minty flavor that forever lingered on her lips.
She was his wife and he had a duty to consummate his marriage. And it troubled him that he delayed it, since she could be taken from him far too easily if he didn’t seal their vows. But how did he touch his wife, leave his mark on her, when he had done such horrible things?
“We extended the field as you ordered,” Penn said, pulling Royden out of his reverie. “And, the good Lord willing, we’ll have a bountiful crop of oats and barely this year.”
Clearing his head with a slight shake, Royden responded, “That is good to hear.”
“Stuart finished the repairs to his roof’s cottage faster than I’ve ever seen done. He claims it’s because he doesn’t want the roof leaking on his bare arse while he pokes his wife.” Penn laughed. “He’s helping repair the other roofs now.”
Royden didn’t want to hear about bare arses and poking wives since he wasn’t poking his wife, but he listened and offered a comment. “Anything that gets the repairs done. Besides, Stuart’s been away from his wife far too long.”
And I’ve been away from Oria far too long and I shouldn’t waste any time in making love to her. Far too much time has already been lost.
“Have you sent the hunters out?” Royden asked, needing to get away from thoughts of husbands poking wives.
“I did and some have already returned. Today’s kill will be spread among the villagers.” Penn cleared his throat. “Many have been wondering when the Great Hall will be available for meals once again as it once was in your da’s time.”
“Soon,” Royden said, though wasn’t truly certain. More tables needed repairs and the stone walls were so bare without the tapestries. He could only do so much, though it was important the clan had a place to freely congregate and feel like family once again. Perhaps that was why he delayed seeing to the Great Hall. Something was missing… his family. Oria was his family now, but he wouldn’t rest until Arran and his sister, Raven, were home, and he found out his da’s fate.
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“Chieftain,” Angus called out.
Royden turned, still not comfortable with the respectful title. It belonged to his da and every time he heard it, his heart broke a bit more at losing the man who had taught him much about being a man.
“What is it, Angus?” Royden asked.
“With all that has gone on, I’m more cautious, wearier than I once was, so seeing Mistress Oria enter the woods alone, by the oak tree, I thought it best you be informed.”
Royden’s brow rose sharply. “I appreciate your keen eye, Angus.”
“A keen eye is needed,” Angus said and looked to Penn before he walked away.
“Will I ever be accepted here into the clan?” Penn asked.
“That’s up to you,” Royden said and walked away as well, his strides strong and fast as he headed to the woods.
He heard Oria’s sobs when only a few paces into the woods and it tore at his heart. He hurried forward and spotted her seated on the ground, her face buried in her hands as she wept. He didn’t hesitate to go to her.
He bent down in front of her and with his arm around her waist and his other arm slipping beneath her legs, he scooped her up against him.
She gasped but only a moment. Seeing she was in his arms, she laid her head on his shoulder and let her tears fall.
Royden sat on the ground, placing her on his lap, cradling her close and wishing he could take her pain away. He was at a loss as to why she cried. Was it for the years they had lost? For their forced marriage? Did she believe it was a mistake to wed him?
As much as he didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to spend time with her for fear of losing control, he had little choice if he wanted to know what caused her grief. For now, though, he let her weep, let her shed whatever pained her.
Oria cuddled against his warmth, his strength, his love. She could tell herself it was what she wanted to believe, that he still loved her, but she knew for certain. He had held her, cradled her, comforted her that way before and he had done so because he loved her just as he did now. There was no way Oria would believe that Royden had ever stopped loving her.
Her sobs subsided, mostly because his strong arms offered the comfort and love she needed. And she remained there contented, never wanting him to let her go—not ever again.
“Tell me why you cry?” Royden asked, needing to know for his own sanity as her sobs eased.
“Memories,” she managed to say. “They sneak up on one and stab at the heart.”
He knew all too well what she meant. “Far too often.”
She nodded against his shoulder.
“Tell me what hurts you?” he encouraged, wanting to know, wanting to ease her pain.
“How do I choose? There are so many,” she confessed.
“And there are no rhyme or reason to them.”
“Aye, you’re right. They come and stab at you at will and no matter how hard you fight, you can’t chase them away. They leave when they choose to leave and not before.”
Her words could have been his words. She described perfectly what it was like for the memories to intrude at will and remain until ready to take their leave. All the mental fighting in the world didn’t help. The memories did as they pleased and hurt with endless vigor.
She looked up at him. “It is good to be in the comfort of your arms once again. I have missed them around me.”
Her soft green eyes had turned bright from crying and her cheeks were damp from her tears, and her lips were far too close and far too tempting, and his resolve far too weak.
Oria watched the dilemma play out in his dark eyes, felt it as he tightened his hold on her, and how he struggled to keep control and instinct had her lifting her face just enough so her lips were closer to his as she whispered, “I have missed you so much.”
A whiff of mint tickled at his nose and God help him, that was enough—he couldn’t resist. It wasn’t a demanding kiss he settled on her lips but a light brush of his lips he whispered across hers, taunting and teasing them, torturing them both with delayed but delightful pleasure.
She mewed softly when he nibbled at her lower lip, then brushed his lips across it and felt her shiver. He placed a soft kiss on her lips, keeping it tender, then ran the tip of his tongue along the slight opening between her lips. That was it. Her mouth dropped open inviting him in and he entered with a flourish.
Oria’s hand went up around his neck to grip it tight, to hold him captive so that he couldn’t change his mind, couldn’t break the kiss. His lips grew demanding and she responded with a demand of her own. There was a hunger between them that had gone unsatisfied far too long. And she wondered if their quench would ever be satisfied. For now, however, she would take this moment with him—this kiss—and linger in it.
And she did. She didn’t remember him ever kissing her like this, a blend of tenderness and hunger, one feeding the other. It stirred her senses and when his hand moved to her backside to adjust it to nest on his bulging manhood, a tingle settled with a vengeance between her legs. She wiggled her bottom until she fit perfectly against him.
Royden’s lips left hers, a moaning growl erupting low in his chest and he turned his head away. He had to stop this or he’d have her on her back and be inside her in no time.
“Don’t stop,” Oria begged, seeing his hesitation.
He didn’t know where the words came from and he regretted them as soon as they left his mouth. “Is it a good poke you need since you’ve been without a husband these past six months?”
His words cut deep and she scrambled out of his arms and to her feet, her anger surging.
Royden barely got to his feet when he felt her hand slam against his cheek.
“Don’t ever speak so rudely to me again. Burnell was a good man.”
Royden grabbed her arm, near her shoulder, so tight, that she winced. “Raise your hand to me again and you’ll be sorry.”
Oria didn’t care that he looked ready to kill, she retaliated, “Speak to me the way you did again and you’ll be sorry.” She went to yank her arm away and couldn’t budge it.
“You see and feel my strength, woman. Do not anger me.” He shoved her away from him and ordered, “Get back to the keep now.”
Oria thought to defy him, her anger raging but she held her tongue and rushed past him, stopping and turning for a moment. “Burnell did something you didn’t do. He kept me safe.” She turned and ran, tears rushing to her eyes.
Royden felt her words like a punch to his gut that almost took him to the ground. She was right. He hadn’t kept her safe when he had promised her he would. He couldn’t blame her for feeling that way when he felt that way himself and had for the past five years. What he couldn’t understand was how Burnell, a seven ten and five years old man could keep her safe when he hadn’t been able to.
Chapter 6
“She’s barely eaten in three days and has barely spoken to anyone,” Bethany said, wringing her hands with worry.
Royden rubbed his chin, having grown concerned about his wife himself. He’d seen her only once in the last three days and she hadn’t even looked his way. Their last encounter had taken a toll on them both. He had berated himself endlessly for having said what he did to her. He’d been wrong, so wrong, especially at such a vulnerable moment. He felt like an arse, but the words were out and he couldn’t take them back.
It couldn’t go on like this. They were husband and wife and nothing was going to change that, and he didn’t want it to. They had to find a way to get along. But would the pain of the past allow them to do that?
“Where is she now?” Royden asked, rising out of the chair in his solar and going to stand by the hearth, a fire blazing in it to chase away the chill of the damp day.
“In her room, the heavy rain keeps everyone inside today,” Bethany said. “Her breakfast has gone untouched and she didn’t eat supper last night.”
“Send her to me,” Royden ordered and saw that Bethany hesitated.
“You object to my o
rder?” he asked.
Bethany sighed. “I will do as you say, but first I have something to say.”
Royden nodded permission for her to continue.
“You have both been hurt, but have survived. Don’t let that hurt defeat you. Your love for each other is stronger than that.”
“Is it?” Royden asked as if he truly needed an answer.
“Maybe that’s something you both need to find out before you destroy a love that hasn’t been given a chance,” Bethany said and turned to leave.
“Bethany,” he said and she turned. “Tell my wife if she doesn’t come here to me in the solar, then I will come to her bedchamber.”
Bethany nodded and left the room with a slight shake of her head.
Oria might defy his summons, but threatening to come to her bedchamber—a place he doubted he was welcome—would have her thinking twice.
After several minutes passed, Royden thought she did intend to defy him, but then a soft rap sounded at the door.
“Enter, Oria,” he called out.
Oria entered, Bethany lingering in the background.
“Bethany, bring some food,” Royden ordered.
“Aye, sir,” Bethany said, a quick smile surfacing before she hurried off.
“Sit,” he said, pointing to a chair near the fire and waited until she sat before he took a seat in a chair not far from hers.
Two days of not seeing her and he was surprised by the shadows under her eyes. She looked as if she hadn’t slept or she hadn’t slept well. Her soft green eyes weren’t as vibrant as they usually were, but her soft blonde hair was beautiful the way it fell in waves over her shoulders and on her chest. He’d forgotten how much he loved when she let her hair fall free.
Pledged to a Highlander Page 5
