Chapter 16
Honora shielded her eyes against the bright sun that had burned the chill from the air by midday. Cavan had left the stable in a huff, and Champion curled up with the other pups to sleep contentedly after their special meal. Left to herself, she decided a walk on the moors would clear her head.
She was brought to an abrupt halt by the scene that confronted her when she turned the corner of the keep. Her husband was in an argument with Lachlan and it looked as if they would come to blows. She approached with caution and wasn’t surprised to hear them squabbling over their missing brother.
A crowd had gathered, whispers circulated, heads shook, and Honora had no doubt that many took Lachlan’s side. He was well liked and respected by the clan, and Cavan, since his return, hadn’t endeared himself to clan members. He brooded and remained to himself and had only recently begun spending time with her, and that was because he insisted that she learn to protect herself; otherwise she doubted she would have seen much of him. He still continued to sleep on the floor in front of the fireplace. He mostly had remained to himself, showing no interest in the clan, and that caused people to wonder over the worthiness of their future laird.
However, Cavan was her husband, and wifely duty called for her to stand by him no matter her opinion. But after their recent discussion, she better understood what troubled him. He laid full blame on himself for failing to protect his brother, and nothing anyone said could change his mind. He would do anything to find Ronan, even if it meant arguing with his brothers.
In the keep, accusations and threats flew like weapons, each brother, hitting their mark and causing tempers to blaze, no doubt to soon rage out of control. She had to do something or before long fists would fly and gossipers would have fodder to feed their wagging tongues.
How to distract him?
A simple shout would probably be ignored, or Cavan would order her to be gone and she’d have to obey. What was she to do? A sudden thought struck her. Cavan immediately went after her father when he saw that Calum had injured her. What if he thought her ill? Would he come to her aid?
Do not hesitate.
His warning rang in her head. Too much time spent on a decision would cancel its effectiveness. She didn’t hesitate. She screamed out to him while clutching her stomach.
“Cavan!”
He turned, his face full of rage.
“Help me,” she cried, and letting her body go limp, dropped to the ground in a faint.
She kept her eyes closed as she lay there, and felt the ground tremble beneath her from rushing footfalls.
“Has she been sick?”
Lachlan’s voice, not her husband’s, though his followed anxiously.
“I don’t believe so.”
“Perhaps she’s with child,” Lachlan suggested.
“Perhaps,” Cavan said.
His response didn’t surprise her; after all, he couldn’t very well tell his brother that it was impossible for her to be with child. She almost reacted to his tender touch when his fingers gently pushed her hair away from her face.
“Honora,” he said, and she felt him probe her stomach lightly.
Whispers sounded like buzzing bees, and she could only imagine the crowd that had gathered. She had accomplished what she intended, for Cavan and Lachlan argued no more. She fluttered her eyelids and moaned softly.
Cavan urged her awake, repeatedly calling her name, and Honora felt her heart catch. His voice reverberated with sincere concern. He actually worried over her, as if he cared about her, truly cared.
She opened her eyes fully to gaze at her husband, and there for her to see, to confirm her suspicions, concern was written in the tight lines around his eyes, his narrowed brow and tight lips. His worry was real, so very real.
Guilt struck her hard. She wished it hadn’t been necessary to make him suffer needlessly, and she cringed for the hurt she caused him.
“What’s wrong? Are you in pain?”
“I am not feeling well.”
He scooped her up in his arms and stood. He held her close, and she turned her face into his chest, breathing deeply, enticed by his scent, his strength, his concern.
“Get her to bed. I’ll go find Mother,” Lachlan said, and rushed off.
Cavan carried her without difficulty, as if she weighed no more than a small sack of grain. Crazy as it might seem, she could almost feel him wrap himself protectively around her, and an overwhelming sense of safety washed over her.
She wrapped her arm more tightly around his neck as they entered the keep.
He stopped and asked anxiously, “Are you all right?”
No, she wanted to scream. I am not all right. I have feelings for you. Damn, I have feelings for you.
Instead she simply nodded, not wanting to make the ruse worse.
He hurried his steps, and while Honora couldn’t wait to get to her bedchamber, she also didn’t wish to leave his arms. She felt safe and comfortable cradled in his embrace and could remain there indefinitely, and the thought troubled her.
She sighed when they entered the bedchamber, knowing her time in his arms was done and yearning to be alone so she could make sense of her yearnings.
Surprisingly, and to her relief, Cavan kept hold of her and sat in the chair near the hearth with her cradled in his lap.
“What bothers you?” he asked.
She shook her head, not trusting words for she feared she would blurt out how she was feeling.
“Are you in pain?”
She couldn’t look at him for she feared he would see the truth, see her yearning for him. She kept her face buried against his shirt and was about to shake her head again when she realized she had to convince him that she was ill. She might not want to lie to him, but the truth would cause too much pain for them both. And she needed time to sort through her feelings before she let anyone even suspect that she was beginning to care for her husband.
She pressed at her stomach.
His hand followed, easing hers aside, and he gently rubbed where he assumed the source of her discomfort resided. “I would take your pain if I could.”
He startled her; this man who earlier had claimed he would do anything to get revenge, who argued viciously with his brother, and who now was willing to suffer so she did not. Just when she thought she was beginning to understand him, he confused her.
“I would not let you have it,” she said softly.
He kissed her forehead. “You would have no say in the matter.”
“It is my pain,” she insisted, and cringed with guilt.
“Rest,” he urged, and slipped his hand beneath her waistband to stroke her stomach.
It didn’t take long for her innards to tingle, her heart to pound, and her flesh to heat. She moved against his hand with a moan.
“You grow worse,” he said.
She bit at her bottom lip, fearing she would spill the truth, not knowing what to do and not wanting to leave his arms. She almost groaned with relief when Addie burst into the room.
“What is wrong?” she asked, hurrying over to them.
“Her stomach,” Cavan informed her.
“Put her on the bed,” Addie ordered.
Honora saw the reluctance in his face, as if he didn’t want to let her go, and she felt the same. She wanted to remain in his arms.
Addie placed a gentle hand on her son’s shoulder. “I’ll take good care of her.”
It was as if Cavan emerged from a stupor. He shook his head then quickly changed it to a nod, stood and carried her to the bed, slowly placing her down. She clung to his neck until she realized she had to let him go and he had to let her go, but their fingers touched and neither one would break the bond.
“Go,” Addie urged, giving her son a gentle nudge. “I will look after her.”
Honora frowned when her husband broke contact with her, but he immediately returned to her side, taking her hand in his.
“She needs me. I will stay.”
T
hough Honora wanted him to remain with her, she knew it wasn’t a wise choice.
“Nonsense,” she said, and swallowed hard the lie she was about to tell. “It is your mother I need now, not you.”
“Listen to your wife,” Addie said, her nudge turning to a gentle shove.
“I will wait outside the door—” Cavan halted a response from both women with an upheld hand. “That is the way it will be.”
“As you wish,” his mother said. “Now go so I may look after your wife.”
“I’ll be right outside the door,” he reminded, his gaze on his wife, his finger pointing to the door.
Honora smiled that he cared enough to remain close by. “Thank you.”
“Nonsense,” he said sharply. “I am your husband.” He turned and hurried out of the room.
“A husband unexpectedly falling in love with his wife,” Addie said once he was gone.
“What did you say?” Honora asked, having heard her but not believing it.
“Let me help you out of your clothes and into your night shift,” Addie said, fussing after her. “I’ve already ordered a brew prepared that will soothe your stomach pains.” She paused a moment then added, “Your husband is falling in love with you.”
Honora shook her head.
“Of course, he doesn’t realize it yet, but I knew once he got to know you he couldn’t help fall in love with you.”
Honora shook her head again. Or had she ever stopped?
“Deny it if you must, but you will realize it yourself soon enough, as well as your own growing feelings for him.”
She stopped shaking her head.
Addie laughed. “I knew it. I could see it in the way you look at my son. You are uncertain, of course, for it is so new to you, but in time you will see and feel it for yourself.”
Honora groaned and threw herself back on the bed, but without her blouse, for Addie had slipped it off her.
“I better go see what’s keeping that brew,” Addie said, and headed to the door.
It was better that her mother-in-law assumed that an ailing stomach had caused the groan and did not know that her groan was due to the remark. It might confirm her own feelings, but to think that her husband could possibly be feeling the same way unnerved her, and yet excited her too.
“Help your wife into her night shift while I see about that brew, her stomach worsens,” Honora heard Addie tell her son, and she nearly bolted off the bed. What was she to do? She lay half naked, and at the thought her face reddened and she quickly wrapped her arms over her breasts.
“I need no help changing into my night shift,” she said as her husband entered the room and approached the bed after closing the door.
A grin spread slowly across his face. “You are making what you try to hide more appealing.”
Honora looked down and near groaned, though caught herself. She didn’t want Cavan to think her stomach had worsened, but then, he had her bulging breasts to focus on since the way she hugged them made them appear larger than they were.
He hunched down beside the bed and placed his hand on her arm. “I would be a sorry excuse for a husband if I ravaged an ailing wife.”
“I know that, it is just that I…”
“Have never been naked in front of a man?”
Her eyes turned wide. “Never.”
“That is good to hear.”
She smiled, relieved that he understood.
“Now let me help you into your night shift,” he said.
She sputtered in an attempt to respond.
He laughed softly. “Need I remind you that I am your husband?”
She tightened her arms around her breasts. “Not yet you’re not.”
He leaned in close and whispered in her ear. “Do you want me to remedy that right now?”
She recalled her earlier tactics, though instead of grabbing her stomach, she cringed. “Please, I need the brew your mother promised would soothe my aching stomach.”
He immediately stood, his face flooded with concern. “Stay as you are, I’ll be right back.”
As soon as he left the room, she hurried to change into her night shift and slip beneath the covers with a sigh, feeling protected.
Cavan entered the room with his mother close on his heels, and shook his head when he saw her.
“You should have waited. I would have helped you,” he said, assisting her to sit up and stuffing pillows behind her back.
“I was chilled,” she said, pleased that it wasn’t completely a lie. Her skin had chilled from lack of clothes and she’d felt herself shiver.
“I’ll stoke the fire,” Cavan said, tucking the covers up around her waist.
Addie handed her a tankard of steaming broth while Cavan went to tend the hearth.
“This will soothe the ache,” Addie assured her.
If the broth was meant to soothe, it certainly couldn’t hurt her stomach, so she sipped it without worry.
“It will make her sleep,” Addie whispered to her son when he stood beside her, though not low enough that Honora didn’t hear.
“I will stay with her,” Cavan said.
“Nonsense,” his mother argued. “Go and do what you must. I will remain with her.”
“There is no pressing matter that needs my attention. I will stay with her.”
Honora watched them as a mist settled around her, turning to a fog, and their voices seemed far off in the distance.
“You care for her,” the woman said.
“She is my wife.” The man sounded stern, possibly annoyed.
Her foggy mind made it difficult for Honora to follow the conversation, though the distinct male and female voices at least let her distinguish the two.
“Some men fall in love with the women they are forced to wed,” the woman said.
“We are wed and that will not change. Isn’t it better that I at least care for the wife I did not choose?” the man argued.
“It would be advisable.” The woman sounded pleased.
“Let it be, Mother, this is between Honora and me.”
“No, my son, it isn’t. You will lead this clan one day and it would be better for you if you had a loving wife by your side, one you could count on in your darkest moments.”
“You want for me what you and Father share,” the man said.
“Yes, I want love for you and Honora.”
Her name, she heard her name and the word love…someone loved her and watched over her, cared for her. That thought brought memories of her mother, and she suddenly felt the pain of her absence, a single tear trickling from the corner of her eye.
“She’s crying,” the man said, clearly upset.
Honora felt a tender touch on her cheek where the tear had traveled, and then a warm yet strong hand took hold of hers.
“I am here, Honora, I will let nothing happen to you. I will keep you safe always.”
He squeezed her hand and kissed her cheek, kissing away her tear, and she shivered from his tenderness. She wanted to say something to him, to tell him how she felt, that she would be there for him as well. She would let nothing happen to him. She would keep him safe, and not out of duty but because he was a good man, a good husband. She would do it because she cared.
She wanted to tell him she cared for him and that one day perhaps soon she might discover she loved him. But her eyes were too heavy to open, she was unable to speak, she could barely move her lips, and the next thing she knew it turned dark and there was nothing.
Chapter 17
Cavan watched his wife run around the moor with Champion nipping at her heels. Her cheeks were stung red from the cold wind that swept across the land since early morning and her long dark hair whipped around her smiling face. She looked so very happy and it brought joy to his heart.
He had been worried about her when she’d taken ill and insisted she remain abed a full day even though she claimed she was feeling fine. This morning he’d caught her before she could sneak past where he slept on the flo
or before the hearth. He didn’t intend to let her go off on her own until he knew that she was fully recovered.
After they both ate a full breakfast, she had told him she was ready to resume her lessons, but he suggested a walk on the moor. She wanted to let Champion tag along. He intended that she rest for a day or two more, though Honora disagreed. Naturally, he got his way. Lessons wouldn’t continue until tomorrow.
His own stomach wrenched when he recalled how she called out to him in distress. He had been so enraged with his brother that his first thought was to dismiss her, but when he saw her clutching her stomach and watched her collapse to the ground, it felt as if his heart had stopped beating. It was even worse, though, when he wiped the tear off her cheek. He didn’t know what caused her to cry, which disturbed him more than anything. Had she been in pain or was she unhappy being his wife? Did she fear him? Hate him? Not trust him? Did she feel alone even while surrounded by her new family?
Honora looked happy enough now, though she’d been quiet that morning while they ate and he’d wondered if she still didn’t feel well, though her appetite was ravenous. At times they could converse so easily, as if they were old friends, and other times…
He shook his head. He didn’t know what to make of his wife and wanted to learn more about her.
She stumbled toward him, Champion tripping her. Cavan caught her and was stunned when she kissed his cheek and laughed softly.
“That’s twice you’ve saved me now,” she said, holding onto his arms. “You truly are a hero.”
He let her go and stepped away. “I’m no hero.”
“You’re my hero,” she insisted, and Champion gave a yap, too young to produce a full-fledged bark. “The pup agrees.”
He was no hero and he didn’t want to be thought one. Heroes were remarkable men who performed remarkable feats. He had no such feats to his credit.
He was surprised when she took his arm and tugged him along until their steps evolved into a casual stroll, Champion happily bouncing along beside them.
“What else do you intend to teach me?” she asked.
He smiled. He couldn’t help himself. She looked so lovely, with rosy red cheeks and her dark hair blowing wildly around her face, and she was smiling, and had been from her first step on the moor. She was a carefree lass, more herself there than anywhere else. But then, it had been her place to escape to, a place where she could be herself, let her guard down, feel safe as she did now.
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