“‘Tis Gillian who deserves your anger,” Taveon bit back. “Marea brought her to us. Think ye I’m so callous of a mon that I would spill her blood without giving pause to a means to save the woman.”
“Her death will save Cora-Rose. Ye have killed men for less in battle. ‘Tis no different than—”
“Men,” Taveon disputed. “I have killed men. English men who threatened me with a sword or an ax on a battlefield. Not a woman whose only crime is being the body that imprisons my nemesis.”
“If it were your wife round with child, would ye be so sympathetic?”
“Keegan.” Cora-Rose silenced her husband.
Viviana’s heart pounded behind her breast. The blood left her face, making her sway. He knew. Keegan knew about the babe. Part of her almost wished he would just say it. At least she wouldn’t suffer Taveon’s reaction alone.
“‘Tis late.” Cora-Rose moved from the window to Viviana’s side. “We can finish going through Marea’s writings after we break our fast on the morrow. Come, Viviana. I will escort ye to the cistern while our husbands make peace.”
Keegan snorted.
“Ouish.” Taveon released Viviana’s hand when she rose. The blindness and her efforts to move too quickly caused a bout of dizziness to fill her head. She stumbled around the corner of the desk, wanting nothing more than to separate herself from a discussion that involved Sister De Rosa’s execution. However, if she made it out of the library without vomiting, it would be an act of God. She resisted the urge to rub her throat and linked arms with Cora-Rose.
“Are ye ill?” Cora-Rose asked quietly in the corridor and increased her pace.
Hand held over her mouth, Viviana nodded. The second she was poised over the privy pot, she vomited.
Cora-Rose rubbed Viviana’s lower back and pushed a damp cloth into her hand. “I retched for nigh two months before the illness left me. It will get better.”
Viviana drew in several long, shaky breaths before she was able to stand upright. “Does Keegan know about the babe?”
“Aye, but ‘tis a woman’s place to tell her husband things of such importance.”
Viviana damned her trembling hands and the cold that seemed to live inside Ravenhurst.
“Ye must tell Taveon,” Cora-Rose insisted. “He needs to know what he is fighting for.”
“He is fighting for you. It is enough.” Viviana cleaned her teeth with the cloth to avoid the conversation.
“Nay. ‘Tis not.” Cora-Rose pulled Viviana’s hand to her swollen abdomen. “My babe will be here soon. I can feel her pushing her way toward the birth canal. I’m begging ye. Please, tell him. This night.”
Viviana marveled at the pink light swirling behind her eyes. She was seeing through the babe’s eyes—the tiny life inside Cora-Rose that forced them to make haste with their decision. Taveon sought resolution with a level head, but his brother would have stalked to Sister De Rosa’s chamber with sword in hand had her husband allowed him. “Were you afraid to tell Keegan?”
“Terrified,” Cora-Rose admitted and led Viviana into the bathhouse.
“Have you any suggestions as to how I might break the news?”
“Bind him.”
Surely Viviana hadn’t heard her correctly. “Bind him?”
“When I told Keegan I was with child, he destroyed our chamber. He suffered a broken rib from the battle he waged over our furnishings.”
“Did he strike you?” The question slipped out of Viviana’s mouth without thought, an old concern that should have died with Luciano, but didn’t.
“Nay.” She sounded appalled. “The men of Clan Kraig do not strike women.”
“But they will murder one.” Viviana pointed out the irony, now thinking of Sister De Rosa.
Cora-Rose set a towel and cake of soap in Viviana’s hand. “Bathe and go to your husband. Ease his needs, then tell him about the babe.”
Chapter 31
Bent before the hearth in a partially removed plaid, Taveon added peat to the fire. The day’s events nigh overwhelmed him and the morrow promised to be even more difficult. The resolution to all their problems seemed utterly simple.
Marea wouldn’t have to die a dramatic death. He didn’t have to hang or burn her. He was not so barbaric. He could offer her a tonic of hemlock that would ease her into a peaceful slumber.
And what of Lily? How would he explain to Makayla that he’d executed her only friend’s mum? He’d also sensed Viviana’s upset. He’d felt it in her hand and seen it in the tears she held at bay. How would he live with himself if Viviana chose to resent him for taking Marea’s life?
The click of the door came only seconds before Viviana’s fresh scent found his nose and roused him out of his troubled thoughts. Cool fingers touch his bare shoulder, but guilt kept him pinned in place. He stared at the gold flames snapping in the hearth and relished the slide of her fingers through his hair. The soft edge of her robe fell against his back, tickling him. When she kissed his nape, he closed his eyes, wanting nothing more than to lose himself in her touch, but first he needed her opinion. “Would ye think me a monster if I took Marea’s life?”
A long pause fell between them while Viviana prepared her answer. “Kings sacrifice entire armies for less than what you fight for.”
“I dinnae ask for your opinion on warfare. I know Marea cared for ye and your sister at the orphanage. I need to know how ye will judge me should I end the woman’s life.”
“I would think you a fool if you acted out of haste before we finish reading all the missives. It is possible there might be another way.”
“And if there isnae?” He angled the question over his shoulder.
Viviana stepped around him and lifted his chin. “We will make sound decisions together. You and I.”
Thankful for her presence in his life, he looked up at his wife and pressure built in his chest. What felt like a hand squeezing his heart made him inhale, but the burning sensation remained. ‘Twas startling how much she moved him. “We are good together, aye?”
“Sì.” She cupped his cheek and stroked his tense brow with the pad of her thumb. “Very good.”
Kneeling before her didn’t make him feel like less of a warrior. He wrapped his arms around her hips, pressed his cheek against her stomach, and breathed in her strength. Loving her felt right.
Long moments passed in silence before she stepped out of his embrace and untied the belt at her waist. The seams of her white robe fell open in invitation—an invitation he had no desire to decline. Firelight glistened over the fine hairs just beneath her navel. He brushed them with his fingertips, then leaned forward and kissed the beauty mark on her belly.
She sucked in a shaky breath that ended with a whimper. Her fingers splayed over the gentle curve of her stomach, no doubt eager to relieve the tension building between her legs. The woman was so easily aroused, but he would be a hypocrite if he denied the affect she had on him.
His bollocks had hardened the moment she’d opened her robe, and his cock felt like it had three heartbeats of its own. He glanced at the door. “Did ye tuck Makayla in?”
“Sì.” She nodded. “And Lily, and Miocchi and Wee Willie, as well.”
“Who in the name of Zeus is Wee Willie?” His hands stilled on the backs of her thighs.
“The kitten she is hiding from you.”
“She isnae allowed to have pets.”
Viviana frowned. He felt certain he was about to be scolded, but instead of a giving him a tongue-lashing, she kissed him—a long, intoxicating, mind-numbing kiss that pushed his worries to the back of his mind.
“Come, husband. I have something of greater importance to share with you.”
Taveon followed in the wake of her billowing robe toward the bed and watched her test the solidity of the corner post. He might have questioned her odd inspection, but then she pivoted on her heel. The robe hung straight from her shoulders, granting him a peek of her perfect breasts—breasts that seemed to be fuller wi
th her arousal.
Just as he might have reached for one to test its weight, she circled him, and with the tip of her finger forced him backward until his calves flushed against the foot of the bed. “Do not move.”
Mayhap his wee wife wanted to dominate this night. He grinned on the inside as she climbed atop the bed, but his good spirits quickly fled when she appeared at his back with a coil of rope and a determined lift to her jaw. His brows rose. Two quick questions puzzled him immediately. Where? And why? He didn’t much care about the where, but he was definitely eager to know the why. “What are ye about, wife?”
The hizzie looped the rope around his wrist and bound his arm to the post with shocking speed. “I intend to have my way with you.”
“I can assure ye I am willing,” he glanced down at his cock tenting his plaid, “and verra able. There is nay need for bondage.”
She gave no response to his teasing comment. Hardened nipples moved across his back sending a trill up his spine as she proceeded to bind his other arm to the opposite corner post. “Do you know what I admire most about you, husband?”
“Nay.”
“You are gentle.” She tested the strength of the knot. Unsatisfied, she looped the rope around his wrist again and pulled much tighter than was necessary. She paused, inspected her work, then added another knot to the hemp for good measure.
“And?” he prodded, thinking he must possess other qualities more admirable.
“You are patient.” A tendril of her hair fell over his arm just as she kissed his shoulder. “And you do not act out in anger.” She caressed his taut muscles and sprinkled light kisses between his shoulder blades. “You are caring.” She stepped down from the bed and kissed his chest. “While Keegan wanted to take Sister De Rosa’s life this night, you held on to your wits in the hope of finding a way to save her.”
He didn’t want to think about Marea or Keegan or even Cora-Rose with Viviana’s lips burning a path down his stomach. “Ye dinnae need to tie me to the bed to boast of my qualities.”
She stood before him, breasts bared, nipples stiff, and tapped her lip with her index finger. “Pull on the ropes.”
He fisted the hemp and gave a little tug. The sturdy oak popped with his efforts, but obviously met her approval for she freed him of his plaid. The instant air made contact with his cock he drew in a sharp breath that burned his lungs. “Do ye intend to have your way with me now?” He closed his eyes, hoping she might relieve the burning in his groin.
“In a moment.” She stepped forward and took his erection into her hands. “You possess other qualities as well.”
“Do tell,” he croaked and for long moments he was powerless to say more. He couldn’t move, nor did he want to with Viviana stroking him and fondling his heavy sac. She drew his nipple into her mouth and sucked hard. In his mind’s eye, he placed Viviana’s mouth much lower on his body. This image made his cock jump in her hand.
“I can share my deepest desires with you without fear of ridicule.” The tip of her tongue spiraled, then she bit the nubbin and pulled outward. She repeated the action with his other nipple all the while tormenting his cock with light caresses.
Mayhap ‘twas time he shared his desires with her.
A groan vibrated the back of his throat. His arms ached to touch her, his fingers itched to stroke her, and his mouth watered wanting to taste her, but he was at her mercy.
She stepped closer and stood on her tip toes when the side of his rod pushed into her belly. She bounced on the pads of her feet. He suspected it was then she realized the differences in their height would make her task nigh impossible.
Her thin brows wrinkled, and her cherry-red lips pouted. He might have consoled her had the blood not already drained from his head.
“I should have bound you the other way. I had intended to ease your needs, but—”
“Take me into your mouth,” he blurted out and waited for her reaction to his request.
A wolfish grin lifted the corner of her lips.
Oh, shite!
She bent and licked him with the flat of her tongue, then paused, testing the taste. She licked him again, this time the tip of her tongue probed the tiny slit calling forth his climax. Her casual exploration quickly became excruciating. Sweat trickled down his back and a dull pulse began to beat in his thighs and calves. He pulled on the ropes and cursed beneath his breath. “Untie me.”
“No.” She took him into the heat of her mouth and played havoc on his flesh with her tongue. She sucked, her cheeks drew in and out with the action.
His body tensed, coiled.
She sucked harder, drawing him further into her throat.
His eyes rolled back in his head. “Sweet, Venus.”
Fire threatened to explode in his bollocks. He tried not to pump into her, tried with all his might not to thrust deeper into her mouth, but his body demanded release. “I cannae bear it. Untie me.”
Her head shook, her violet eyes gazed at him from beneath her lashes. She dug her nails into his backside and drove his cock between her silky lips and into her throat. His legs shook. His seed boiled, but he didn’t want to come into his wife’s delicate mouth.
“Untie me!” he bellowed this time and fought the lightning crawling up his cock.
The slide of her tongue and the gentle scrap of her teeth was Heaven and Hell combined. Torture and titillation. Pain. Pleasure. “Oh, God.”
The ropes bit into his wrists, and the bedposts popped from the strain. He held his breath, then his seed left his body in an uncontrolled burst.
“Shite!”
With her mouth stretched wide over the base of him, she milked every drop of his release down her throat.
Overwhelmed by her gift and starved for air, he threw his head back and gasped. Long moments passed before he managed to collect his wits and sense Viviana’s absence. Slowly, he opened his eyes and found her beautiful face poised in front of him. Her lips were swollen and red, but what filled him with instant regret were the tears covering her flushed cheeks. “Viviana, forgive me, I—”
“I am with child.”
Chapter 32
Taveon’s heart seized. He swayed side to side. His knees gave way, but the ropes held him upright.
Viviana took two steps backward and pulled the seams of her robe closed. She waited.
I am with child. Her words registered in his brain like a hazy dream—a nightmare.
He shook his head. “No.” His denial came in the form of a whisper. His vision blurred.
“I love you.” Fat tears filled her purple eyes then spilled over her thick lashes. “And I want to spend the remainder of my days loving you, whether they be one or a thousand.”
Her declaration of love did not ease the tremors wracking his body. In fact, her words only added to his guilt and turned the slithering emotions inside him to hate. He hated Elise and her curse. He hated God for condemning him. But most all, he hated himself.
“No!” He refused to accept the truth and pulled on the binds imprisoning him. “Ye are barren.”
She shook her head and flattened her hand over her belly. “Your son grows inside me.”
“A son?” A tiny flutter of joy sprang behind his chest, but was quickly quashed when he realized the cycle would start all over again. His scream erupted throughout the bowels of Ravenhurst. Pain shot through his heart like an unexpected arrow. He felt his lungs tighten, then collapse while rage stole the last of his senses.
He pulled against the rope with the strength of a hundred warriors.
One of the bedposts snapped.
The wooden canopy crashed atop the mattress shooting a burst of dust and feathers into the air. He tore his gaze from her and the fear widening her eyes, now realizing why she’d bound him.
The second post stood no chance against his fury. It broke like a dry twig, allowing him to drag the lengths of wood to where he’d laid his dirk atop the mantle.
Viviana backed up until her heels hit the farthe
st corner of the chamber. Tears ran in rivulets down her cheeks, and her fists balled beneath her chin. Her terror of him made him feel like a beast, like a creature from Hell filled with poison—the same poison that infected her womb and would ultimately take her life.
He sawed through the bindings and then strode toward her, but couldn’t meet her eyes. He jerked the amulet from the chain around her neck, then stormed out of the chamber, blade in hand.
“Taveon, please come back,” she called behind him, but he purged forward. The walls bled unwanted memories; Da crouched in the corner, tears covering his worn cheeks as he cried out Mum’s name.
Janetta. Janetta. Janetta.
Taveon boxed his ears. He would not end up like Da. He would not lose his mind, nor would he lose his wife. The amulet heated inside his hand. He turned at the cistern and was met with another image—a blonde woman cried out and held her massive belly as birthing fluid pooled between her feet.
“No! Leave me!” he bellowed, knowing the talisman somehow forged Elise’s memory into his mind. He whipped his head side to side, casting her out, and stalked through the corridor passed Makayla standing in her doorway.
“Holy mither!” She cupped her hands over Lily’s eyes. “Dadi, why are ye naked?”
“Taveon!” Viviana’s padded footfalls only increased his pace.
Red dominated his vision as he climbed the steps of the east tower. He knew what he had to do and prepared himself mentally. He imagined the slide of the blade sinking between Marea’s ribs. He envisioned blood seeping down the steel and filling the arcs of his nails. Acid burned the back of his throat. His grip on the hilt tightened to the point he was certain his knuckles would split the skin.
“Ye gods, mon! Where is your plaid?” Remi jumped up from a cuttie stool unblinking, but quickly moved aside when Taveon raised his foot and kicked the door off its hinges.
A burst of frigid air stung his hot skin as he entered the chamber.
Marea bolted upright in the bed. “What is it?”
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