“What is this one thing you expect from me?” he asked.
She called out her response after turning and heading to the door. “That you let me be who I am.”
Chapter 6
Wolf stood by the stream that ran through the woods staring at the rapidly running water. He’d discovered the secluded spot after several visits to Learmonth. Actually, he couldn’t claim the discovery as his. He had followed Burnell here one day and found him talking to the leper, Brother Noble. That was when he had first met the leper and oddly enough they had become friends after that, meeting here occasionally over the last couple of years.
He’d found the leper easy to talk with and he had challenged him with his opinions and his vast knowledge. He always got Wolf thinking more deeply and viewing things from a different perspective.
“How is it I find you here alone when you should be celebrating your return home? That’s a foolish question since I know you seek the peacefulness of the woods when something troubles you.”
Wolf turned with a smile and clasped Trevor in a tight hug and with a solid slap to his back. “At least you have not gone soft wed to my sister.”
Trevor stood a bit shy of Wolf’s tall height, with a fit build, but then they had fought many a battle together and had spent endless hours at practice with their weapons. His good features had stolen many a woman’s heart but he had eyes for only one woman—Demelza, Wolf’s sister. Wolf had never let it be known, but he was envious of his close friend. Love of a good woman was something he feared he would never know and his recent arranged marriage had proven that true.
“Your sister sends her love,” Trevor said, after stepping away from Wolf.
“She is well and your son, Aric, he is well also?”
“They both do well and surprisingly life here is better than I thought it would be,” Trevor said. “While the locals are still skeptical, they don’t shun us, and Demelza could not be more pleased that she lives so close to her sister Oria. Demelza wanted to come see you when we received word you were home to stay, but your missive said I was to come alone, so I made an excuse. A poor one I’m afraid, since her eyes narrowed when I told her. So tell me what secret you harbor.”
Wolf was quick to be done with it. “I wed Raven.”
Shock kept Trevor silent for a moment, then it had him asking, “The lass you have searched for these last five years and sister to Royden and Arran?”
“That would be her,” Wolf confirmed.
Trevor shook his head. “Why didn’t I know this?”
If Wolf trusted anyone explicitly it was Trevor and he had disliked keeping the news from him. He offered the reason that hadn’t set well with him. “The agreement was not to be made known until it was done. Once it was, I wanted to be the one to tell you about it.”
“And explain why you did such a foolish thing? All was arranged for you to wed Eria,” Trevor argued.
“You know all too well that not capturing Raven changed much and kept me from claiming complete victory. I wanted an end to it. I laid claim to a good portion of land that rightfully belongs to my grandmother and should rightfully be mine,” Wolf said with a sense of pride.
“And with Oria wed to Royden, the Clan MacKinnon can be counted in that.”
“The MacKinnon may hate me, but they will not go against me, especially now with me wed to their sister.”
Trevor shook his head. “But at what price? You are stuck with the MacKinnon woman for life.”
“And a challenge she is,” Wolf admitted. “Though she is pleasing to look at.”
“She submits to you willingly?” Trevor asked.
Wolf rubbed at his close cropped beard. “We haven’t consummated the marriage yet. When I discovered that she lived and worked with a band of thieves, five men, these past five years—not a virtuous life—I decided I wouldn’t touch her until I can be sure she doesn’t carry another man’s child.”
“Does your grandmother know about this sacrifice of yours?”
“She does.”
“You saying no more tells me what she thinks,” Trevor said, shaking his head. “Your grandmother would choose you to know love rather than for you to be married to a woman who more than likely hates you.”
“Sacrifices are made all the time. Raven presented an offer that would put an end to what I started, her brothers’ freedom and a marriage to me so peace would prevail in this area. Though I know I have not seen my last battle, I could do with some peace for a while.”
“I agree with you on that. I enjoy my days with my wife and son and see the clan you awarded me grow in number and strength. I will always serve you well, Wolf.”
Wolf clasped him on the shoulder. “I have no doubt of that, Trevor. And I am glad you and my sister are happy. Now let us go drink to my marriage and pray my wife doesn’t kill me before the month is done.”
“What do you mean kill you?” Trevor asked anxiously as they walked toward the village.
“She pulled a knife on me twice and the first time I never saw it coming.”
Trevor shook his head. “Tell me about it.”
The two men continued to talk as they walked. Neither one of them spotted the wiry man who lurked in the words and hurried off not long after they left to tell Raven what he’d heard.
Raven watched her husband and the other man, who she knew to be a longtime friend of Wolf’s and husband to his sister Demelza, walk through the village. Many women let their glances linger on them, appreciating their fine features, but the two men were oblivious to them, too busy talking and occasionally laughing.
Naturally, curiosity and instinct had become her constant companions over the years since both were necessities to survival. Now more than ever she depended on them both and both had her wondering if the two were scheming something.
She remained where she was, leaning on the side of a cottage, waiting for Brod. She had sent him after Wolf when she had spotted him walking toward the woods. She intended to keep a good eye on her husband to make certain she and her men were safe. Her husband might say he was an honorable man but until she could see that for herself, she would take no chances.
Raven smiled hearing a grumbling yawn behind her, though she didn’t turn. She knew who approached.
“So your old bones are tired are they?” she asked with a slight chuckle.
Clive shook his head as he stepped to her side. “Do I complain about my old bones that much that you know what I will say before I say it?”
“Aye, endlessly,” she said and laughed again.
“I tell you, age is a trickster. It sneaks up on you and settles in your bones to attack at the least provocation,” Clive said, his glance following where she looked. “Wolf must have sent word to Trevor while we were still at your home.”
Raven lowered her voice as Clive had done when speaking about Wolf. “Wolf’s sister did not join her husband.”
Clive let his opinion be known. “Perhaps Trevor ordered his wife to remain home. It is cold and though the snow stopped, it will return and probably soon.”
“Or his sister wasn’t invited, the talk being for men alone,” Raven said. “Is Brod about?”
“I imagine he’ll appear any moment now since his task is complete. Iver is already busy getting to know the woods. Fyn is busy getting to know Greta to see what he can learn from her.” Clive grinned. “And it’s no toiling task, since his eyes light when he’s around her.”
“Remind him that she could be there to do the same as him and also what I told all of you about people coming and going since she’s a healer. It’s a good guise for them to keep an eye on all of you,” Raven warned. “And what of George?”
“Once Iver told him the carvings on many of the posts and numerous other things were the Northmen language and they told a tale, George got busy committing them to memory so he can draw them in the dirt with the expectation of Iver translating them for him. He intends to learn the tales and see if they tell us anything.”
> “It’s good the men keep busy and alert,” she said.
“Always.” Clive lowered his voice to a whisper. “You wanted to talk with us about something.”
“I do, but I fear if the six of us gather we will call unwanted attention to us. I will talk with you and Brod and you will share it with the others.”
“I am ready to listen.”
Both Clive and Raven jumped, not having heard Brod approach.
“Quit sneaking up on us,” Clive scolded.
Raven smiled and shook her head. “I still have not mastered your skill of how silently you move about.”
“You do well for the time you’ve had to learn,” Brod praised.
“Brod is right,” Clive agreed. “For the limited time you had to acquire several skills, you’ve done exceptionally well. Now let’s go to my cottage and talk.”
“In whispers,” Brod advised. “We are being watched.”
Raven huddled close with the two, her voice barely a whisper. “You were followed?”
“No. I spotted who watched—three—and avoided them, but we all need to be aware that eyes are on us all the time,” Brod whispered.
“You both will make sure the others know,” Raven ordered and followed along with the two to Brod’s cottage.
“First, tell me what you learned?” Raven said after they settled in the confines of the small cottage.
Brod spoke in the same cautious whisper that Raven had, detailing the conversation between Trevor and Wolf.
So the Beast didn’t think her difficult to look at. Raven shook her head. What difference should that make to her? What was important is that he mentioned again that she had been the one to approach with a proposal.
“That is the very thing I wanted to discuss—his reference to me instigating the proposal, and this is the second time now he mentioned it. I was told the Beast requested it.”
“You could have waited, not accepted the proposal. We were close to having what was needed to free your brothers,” Clive said.
“Another two years is not close and in that time I could have lost one or both of my brothers. And what of Oria? She could have been sent across the North Sea to her family never to see Royden again. And Purity had to be protected.” Raven shook her head. “No. Time had run out. I gladly agreed to the offer. Only now, I wonder if neither I nor Wolf proposed it, then who conceived the offer, and why?”
Raven stood in the bedchamber trying to comprehend that this was where she would sleep for the rest of her days. It was a sizeable room with a bed that appeared more a box then the type of bed she’d once been used to. Two roughhewn posts were attached to the two top corners, a board with carvings on it fixed between them, and the same at the two bottom corners with a sizeable box stuffed with a mattress and a mix of blankets and furs sandwiched between all four posts. The posts were carved with a plethora of intricate symbols. The last five years her bed had been where she could make it, so she had no reason to complain about this one. And she had to admit that the bedding looked inviting and comfortable and had a pleasant scent to it.
She was surprised, though glad, to see a fair-sized fireplace on the far wall, roaring with flames. Chests sat to either side of the bed with several candles on top of each. A small table was tucked against one wall with two benches beneath and a larger chest sat in front of the bottom of the bed.
Raven turned when she heard voices approach the closed door and she stepped away from the bed just as the door swung open.
“A bath,” Gorm announced and stepped aside as three servants struggled with a large wooden tub.
She had recently washed before arriving home and had made her men do the same. While she had kept herself relatively clean, there had been many more times that hadn’t been possible. Grime was a necessary companion for someone who didn’t want to be noticed or when thieving.
Ambivalent about the prospect of taking a bath, she watched as a cloth was draped inside the tub and bucket after steaming bucket was carried in to fill it. The more she watched the tub fill, the more her desire to strip and climb in it grew. She could almost feel its heat soaking into her, chasing the cold that forever settled into her.
She was ready to jump to her feet after the last of the buckets were emptied into the tub—when her husband entered the room.
The tub was for him, not her, and a heavy disappointment washed over her to the point she thought she would cry, an annoying thought. She didn’t cry. She wouldn’t let herself and hadn’t let herself. A few days after the attack she cried copious tears while hiding in a small cave. When she’d finished, she swore to herself that they were the last tears she would ever shed and she would do anything and everything to survive and see her family reunited.
Raven stood. “I’ll leave you to your bath.”
“It’s your bath as well. Go first while the water is hot,” he said.
She stood staring at him, not trusting him.
“In!” he ordered sharply. “Gorm has told me how he has noticed how much you shiver. The heated water will warm you.”
The thought of the hot water soaking into her had her quickly shedding all but her shirt. She had no intention of standing naked in front of him, not ever if she could help it.
She hurried to the tub.
“Your shirt,” he cautioned.
“It could use a washing,” she said and hurried into the tub before he could stop her. She quickly immersed herself in the luxury of the wet heat. A deep, satisfying moan slipped slowly past her lips as she buried herself up to her neck in the deliciously hot water. She rested her head back against the tub and closed her eyes, not caring about anything at the moment than the heat that infused her.
Desire struck Wolf like a punch to the gut, hearing her drawn out moan that aroused his shaft much too swiftly. Damn, even clothed he found his wife far more appealing than he ever imagined he would. And damn if he’d never get that tempting moan out of his head, not until he heard it spill from her lips as he pounded into her and brought her to—he shook his head.
He had to wait. He had to be sure she didn’t nourish another man’s seed.
It was good he would wait and bathe when the water was cold. The sharp chill would rid him of the ache in his stiff shaft.
Raven let herself drift in the comforting heat of the water until she felt the heat dissipating, though it still remained warm enough. She had learned the importance of sharing while with her men. Sharing could often be crucial to survival and they had often cuddled close to a campfire at night to make sure none of them froze.
It was the reason she gave no thought to her words before she spoke. “Join me before the water grows too cold.” She had no fear of him poking her since he had made it clear he would wait until he was certain she wasn’t with child.
Wolf hesitated. He hadn’t been with a woman in quite a while and didn’t know if his resolve would hold. After all, she was his wife and he had every right to couple with her. Still, he had to be sure when he planted his seed inside her it was his that would grow.
“Do you fear you’re not strong enough to resist me and will lose your resolve not to poke me until you discover for yourself no seed grows within me?”
Not only did he grow angry that she realized his thought, but also what she insinuated. “You call me a coward?”
“Your action—or inaction—do that for you.”
Wolf stripped and climbed in the tub.
One look at his hard shaft as he entered the tub had her smiling. “Your protruding shaft speaks loudly.”
“You would be wise to learn to hold that tongue of yours, wife,” he said and settled across from her, bending his legs and planting them on either side of her bent ones.
“And I advise you to grow accustomed to it.”
The warmth of the water calmed him some and her snappish tongue managed to cool his desire. The woman was insufferable. She’d probably take command in bed, a place he preferred to command.
“You show no
signs of discomfort of me being naked in front of you or joining you in this tub. Is that because you’ve grown used to seeing naked men?” he challenged.
She laughed and flung her own barb at him.” I spent the last five years with six men. What do you think?”
His brow narrowed. “Six men? There are only five with you.” He leaned forward, the water splashing past her chin. “Where is the sixth man?”
A foolish slip of the tongue on her part. “He’s dead.”
Wolf leaned back, though eyed her skeptically. “How can I be sure you speak the truth and he doesn’t lurk some place in wait.”
“He does lurk someplace—in my heart. I will never forget him. He was the most wonderful man,” she said and her chest grew tight with painful memories of losing the man who had been like a father to her.
This was something he never expected and he found himself asking. “You loved him?”
“More than anything,” she admitted and the ache in her chest grew.
“Do you carry his child?” he demanded.
“No,” she said and after ducking her head to wet her hair completely, she began to scrub it with the slice of soap she had swiped off the stool next to the tub before getting in.
“How do I believe you after you tell me you loved him?” he asked though the question was more for him to contemplate.
“You don’t. It’s impossible to believe someone you don’t trust. Which is why you would never believe me if I told you I’ve never been touched by a man.”
“You claim to be a virgin after telling me you loved a man?” he asked, his chest rumbling with laughter.
“See, you don’t believe me,” she said and hurried to finish washing, the warmth leaving the water. “And you will wait to discover the truth because you don’t trust me.”
That she was right annoyed him and that she might be telling the truth annoyed him even more since he would deny himself the pleasure of his wife and the consummation of their marriage until he could satisfy his worry. But he couldn’t take the chance—he couldn’t trust the word of a thief.
Highlander Oath Of The Beast Page 6