“You won’t let them take me, will you, Tarass?”
Tarass’s hand left hers to snag her tightly around the waist and yank her against him to rest his brow against hers. “You know the answer to that, wife, though I understand your need to hear it from me. I will let no one, not a single soul, take you from me. You belong to me as I belong to you. We are one and will always remain so.”
She sighed. “I do so love you, husband.”
“And I you, Snow, for now and all time.”
He kissed her, wanting to feel the tingle of pleasure he always got when his lips touched hers, whether the kiss was gentle or demanding, and feel the slight shiver in her body as passion flared in her, and know that she responded to his slightest intimate provocation so easily.
A bark from Thaw had them breaking apart.
“They approach,” Tarass said, taking hold of his wife’s hand snugly in his, letting her know he’d never let her go.
Tarass had never met Abbot Bennett and wondered if his wife was familiar with him. “Have you ever met Abbot Bennett?”
“I have, twice, when he came to visit my da. From what I recall he was a short man, thick in the stomach with a pudgy face, dark eyes that always seemed to judge, and no hair on top of his head.”
“I would say he hasn’t changed much,” Tarass said, watching the Abbot approach on a horse, Lord Polwarth riding beside him.
Abbot Bennett spoke as soon as he brought his horse to a stop. “I will speak with Cleric Norman before speaking with both of you.”
Abbot Bennett confirmed what Tarass had feared. Cleric Norman never made it back to the monastery.
“Cleric Norman left here in the snowstorm shortly after arriving here and against my warning,” Tarass said.
“It must have been of the utmost importance for Cleric Norman to take his leave in a snowstorm. What happened here that forced him to take such a dangerous chance?” Abbot Bennett demanded.
“What makes you think you can come to my home and make demands of me?” Tarass’s hand snapped up when Abbot Bennett went to respond. “This is my land, my clan, and I rule here. You have no authority here so I warn you… guard well what you say to me.”
“I care not for your heathen soul, but I do care for Snow Macardle’s soul and I have come here to save her. Your marriage is invalid and Lord Polwarth has been generous enough to agree to honor the valid arrangement that had been made between him and James Macardle. Snow is fortunate that Lord Polwarth would do such an honorable thing under the circumstances.”
“Snow is where she belongs… by her husband’s side. She stays with me.”
“Perhaps it would be best if we discussed this inside,” Lord Polwarth said, glancing around at the crowd that was gathering.
“Nettle, direct our two guests to my solar,” Tarass said as he turned and, continuing to hold his wife’s hand, entered the keep.
Snow remained silent, her shoulders slumping in relief when her husband seated her in a chair in his solar and took her cloak to drape across her lap.
He bent down and kissed her softly. “You didn’t actually think I wouldn’t allow you to be part of this meeting, did you?”
“I should have known better.” With a smile, she kissed his cheek and feeling the chill there placed her cheek against his and whispered, “I’ll warm you later.”
“You warm me now,” he whispered in her ear and smiled when he felt a shiver run over her.
“Snow, you will leave us so we may discuss this matter,” Abbot Bennett ordered upon entering the room and seeing her there.
“Do I need to remind you again that you don’t dictate in my home?” Tarass’s hand went up once more to silence the Abbot before he could speak, letting him know he didn’t expect a response. “Speak your piece and be done with it.”
Lord Polwarth spoke up. “You force Snow to live in sin.”
“Tarass doesn’t force anything upon me,” Snow said, not able to hold her tongue. “I love my husband and I will stay his wife no matter what either of you say.”
Abbot Bennett shook his head. “This is why things are decided for women. You are too foolish to make proper and wise decisions. This has nothing to do with love. It has to do with saving your soul. Stay and continue to couple with this heathen and your soul will be lost, and you’ll suffer the eternal damnation of hell.”
“Hell would be living without my husband,” Snow said.
Her words struck Tarass’s heart, understanding at that very moment just how much his wife did love him.
Snow’s brow creased as she asked, “My sister Sorrell is wed to a man who is part barbarian and I don’t see you disavowing her marriage. Why do you claim to invalidate mine?” Her brow went up as though she realized the answer herself. “Or is it that Lord Ruddock is a generous donor to your monastery?”
“I owe you no answer,” Abbot Bennett said defensively.
“You owe me an answer, therefore, you owe my wife one as well,” Tarass commanded, making it clear Abbot Bennett dare not refuse him.
The Abbot wrinkled his nose in distaste as he spoke. “Lord Ruddock’s situation is far different from yours. Your father wed your mother knowing full well she was of barbarian descent. Lord Ruddock’s father knew nothing of his wife’s true heritage when they wed.” He waved his hand in the air, annoyed. “None of this matters. I am officially annulling your marriage.”
“Then I’ll wed her according to my mother’s peoples’ custom,” Tarass said.
Abbot Bennett’s cheeks bloomed a bright red and his anger looked about to burst.
Lord Polwarth quickly spoke up. “If you truly love Snow, you would see the wisdom of what Abbot Bennett has said and see done what is best for her.”
“Don’t dare question my love for my wife and as far as what is best for Snow? I’m best for Snow and no one will take her from me. Now since there is nothing further to be discussed, I suggest you take your leave.”
“This has not been settled,” Abbot Bennett insisted.
“It has been settled and I’ll hear no more about it,” Tarass said.
Snow didn’t need to see her husband’s face, or even hear the powerful command in his voice to know he had frightened Abbot Bennett. She heard it in the way the man took several unsteady steps away from her husband.
A knock sounded at the door before any more could be said and Rannock entered along with one of the clerics that had accompanied the Abbot.
The short, wiry cleric spoke before Rannock could. “Cleric Norman has been found. He’s dead,” —he paused his eyes turning round with fear— “the clan’s people want to know if his body was drained of blood like the others.”
Tarass looked to Rannock and caught the slight shrug to his large shoulders. Rannock had no answer for him.
“What others?” Lord Polwarth asked. “Have you had other deaths where the bodies have been drained of blood?”
“That is the whispers I hear. I also heard them say it is dwarfs seeking knowledge,” —the cleric shook his head— “but it is not so. It is the work of heathens with heathen beliefs.”
A chill ran a shiver through Snow. This had to stop. They had to find out the truth to these killings. Or unrest would continue to mount in the clan and spread beyond, and that would bring bigger problems.
“What heathen practices do you bring here?” Abbot Bennett demanded his eyes suddenly going as wide as the cleric’s had. “Is this what Cleric Norman had discovered and bravely left here in a snowstorm to warn me about?” He didn’t wait for an answer, he turned to Lord Polwarth. “We cannot leave this poor soul here to suffer at his hands. She must come with us until this can be settled.”
“I warned you far too many times about making demands in my home.,” Tarass said, his voice rising in anger. “You will leave now!”
“Not without Snow,” Lord Polwarth said.
Fear rippled through Snow at the tenacity in Lord Polwarth’s response.
Not so Tarass, he walked over t
o the man, stopping right in front of him. “My wife stays here with me. You will leave now!” He looked to Rannock. “See them all escorted off my land.”
Rannock gave a nod and turned to carry out his orders, the cleric following after a shooing wave from Abbot Bennett.
“Let us at least take Snow to stay with her brother James until this matter can be settled properly,” Abbot Bennett said.
His attempt at a conciliatory tone sounded only half-hearted to Snow’s ears and she was glad to hear her husband’s voice sound more tenacious than Polwarth’s had.
“You try my patience, Abbot, and I warn you that is something you will live to regret. I will repeat yet again what I have repeatedly told you only because you’re such an idiot that you can’t understand it.”
Snow heard the Abbot and Polwarth gasp at the insult.
“Snow is my wife and will stay my wife. There is nothing in this world and beyond that will change that. This is her home, here with me, her husband, and this is where she will stay.”
“I possess information that just might have you change your mind,” Abbot Bennett said.
“No, Abbot Bennett, we agreed,” Lord Polwarth said.
“We agreed not to use it unless necessary. While I would not think to divulge something confessed to me, it is obviously necessary,” Abbot Bennett reminded. “It is the one thing that will make him see that they are not destined to be husband and wife.”
Snow immediately got to her feet and reached her hand out to her husband, eager to see his familiar outline and was relieved she was still able to see it.
Tarass went to his wife, seeing the worry brighten the green of her eyes and took her hand, while slipping his arm around her waist to tuck her close against his side.
He turned his glance on the Abbot. “I love my wife and there is nothing you can say that will change that.”
Abbot Bennett smiled. “Not even finding out that it was Angus Macardle, Snow’s father, who had your parents killed?”
Snow may have been shocked at the Abbot’s remark, but not shocked enough to stop her from yelling, “Liar! My da was friends with Tarass’s parents. He would have never hurt them.”
“At one time perhaps, but not after the argument they had the very last time they saw each other. An argument that Tarass can attest to, his father having sent him from the room when it began.” Polwarth looked to Tarass. “Isn’t that right, Lord Tarass?”
Tarass didn’t answer, though he responded, “What proof do you have that my wife’s father killed my parents?”
“Lord Angus himself confessed it to me before he died, afraid he would burn in hell for all eternity for what he had done,” Abbot Bennett said.
“So much for the sanctity of the confessional,” Tarass said.
Abbot Bennett was quick to defend himself. “Her father wanted his daughters kept safe. Lord Angus would be pleased that his own words saved his daughter.”
“Lies. You tell lies,” Snow accused, her voice quivering with anger.
“Are they, Snow?’ Lord Polwarth asked calmly. “Your father certainly wasn’t of right mind having Lord Cree’s wife abducted, setting fire to his own keep that caused your blindness and eventually your mother’s death. In his sane moments he knew what he had done, which is why he couldn’t live with it and took his own life.”
“A riding accident took my da’s life,” Snow said, protecting his honor, though had thought the same herself.
“If you need to believe that, my dear, then do, but you can’t deny there were many times your father wasn’t of sound mind,” Lord Polwarth said.
“And what of Lord Tarass?” Abbot Bennett asked. “He has a right to know the truth and lay his pain to rest.”
Snow turned quiet, thinking on their remarks. Could it be possible? Had her da done this horrible thing? He often had made no sense when his mind went bad. She couldn’t ignore the possibility, but she couldn’t believe it either.
Stunned by the news, similar questions haunted Tarass. Could it be the truth? Could Lord Angus have ordered his parents killed? His next thought he spoke out loud.
“What reason would Lord Angus have to kill my parents?”
“Who can say what goes on in the mind of a madman?” Abbot Bennett said. “At least your father, in a lucid moment, was wise enough to confess to me before he died and now his soul rests in peace. I would think his daughter would be as brave as her father and face her sins and make amends for them. Do what is right, Snow. Do what would make your father proud. Save your soul as he did his.”
Snow waited for her husband’s arm to wrap tighter around her waist, or his hand to give it a squeeze, anything that would remind her that she was not going anywhere. She was where she belonged, beside him. But it never came.
Did he believe the Abbot? Did he actually believe her da had had his parents killed? Did this news make a difference.? Did he want her to leave?
A sudden bout of nausea hit her and her sight began to fade. She couldn’t lose what sight she had gained, she couldn’t. Then darkness began to creep over the gray and she realized, to her great surprise, she was about to faint.
Chapter 27
Tarass scooped his wife up in his arms when he felt her slump against him, his stomach plummeting when he realized she had fainted.
“Nettle!” he roared with such power that it echoed through the keep.
A moment later, Nettle burst through the door, sending it banging against the wall. “Fetch, Runa, and bring her to my bedchamber.”
Nettle nodded and turned pale at the sight of Snow lifeless in Lord Tarass’s arms and didn’t hesitate to follow his command.
“Get out!” Tarass yelled, shooting a murderous glance at the Abbot, then Lord Polwarth.
The Abbot went to speak.
“One word, Abbot Bennett, and you lose your tongue,” Tarass threatened and was glad to see Rannock rush into the room. He was relieved Nettle had alerted Rannock to the situation. He was also glad he didn’t need to give Rannock any orders. He knew what to do.
“I’ll see both men escorted off your land, my lord,” Rannock said.
“We’ll take Cleric Norman with us,” Abbot Bennett said.
“He’ll be sent to you when I allow it,” Tarass said and hurried out of the room.
Tarass rushed through the Great Hall with his wife in his arms, worried that she had yet to stir. As soon as Thaw caught sight of Tarass and Snow, he barked and ran after them, running up the stairs before Tarass.
Thaw jumped up on the bed as soon as Tarass placed Snow down upon it and started licking her pale face. Tarass didn’t stop him, hoping it would help bring her around. He joined the pup, sitting beside his wife, and took her hand.
“Snow! Snow, wake up,” Tarass urged, patting her hand when he wanted to shake her awake. It didn’t help that Thaw whined when Snow failed to respond to either of them, though neither of them gave up.
Tarass was surprised to see Nettle arrive with Twilla instead of Runa. Maude followed them in, a bucket in hand.
“Move,” Twilla ordered Tarass as she approached the bed.
Tarass didn’t argue, and Thaw followed Tarass’s lead and jumped off the bed as well.
Nettle was quick to explain why she hadn’t brought Runa as requested. “I’m sorry, my lord, but Runa was in the middle of a difficult birth and I thought Twilla could be of some help. Runa did tell me to let Lady Snow be, if it was a faint she would wake from it herself.”
“Some snow will help with that,” Twilla said and scooped a handful out of the bucket and placed it on Snow’s forehead and cheeks.
To Tarass’s great relief, and Thaw’s too, Snow began to stir and her eyes began to flutter.
Twilla placed more snow on Snow’s cheeks, patting them.
Snow’s eyes burst open and catching the outline of a hand at her cheeks, reached out to shove it away, and screamed, “Tarass!”
He shot across the bed to take her in his arms. “You’re safe. You fainted.
Twilla helps you.”
Snow slumped against him in relief. “I’ve never fainted.”
“You have now,” Twilla said. “Could you be with child?”
The whole room turned silent.
Twilla answered her own question. “It could be too soon to tell. Seek advice from your sister Willow. She is a far better healer than Runa.” She turned and shooed at Nettle and Maude. “Out the lot of you.” She followed behind the two women, though called out, “I’ll see a hot brew sent to you, Lady Snow.”
Tarass was grateful to the old woman for her help, advice, and chasing everyone out. He wanted to be alone with his wife. There was much for them to discuss.
“Let me get you comfortable,” Tarass said and left her side.
Snow wasn’t happy that his arms left her or that he removed her boots, a silent way of letting her know she wouldn’t be going anywhere. That thought was confirmed again when he hooked his arm around her waist to pull her up and place a couple of pillows behind her and rest her back against them, then he tugged the blanket up to her waist.
Her stomach churned as it did earlier, though she felt no faint returning. It was worry that roiled her stomach. Had her husband believed the word of the Abbot? Or was it doubt, being unsure of what he’d been told that had him leave her side?
She never felt more relieved than when her husband removed his boots and got in bed with her and not just to take her in his arms once again, but to pull her onto his lap and adjust himself against the pillows, then he tucked the blanket around both of them.
Snow kissed his cheek. “I’m glad you stayed with me.”
“My heart stopped beating when I felt you go weak against me.” He shook his head recalling the frightening moment. “You scared me senseless.”
“I never faint,” she said again as if trying to make sense of it.
Tarass rested his hand on her stomach. “Is it too soon to tell?”
Highlander Lord of Fire Page 24
