He reached out to wake her with a gentle touch, but pulled his hand back. Not a good idea. Instead, he spoke her name softly, “Oria.”
“Royden,” she said in a raspy whisper before her eyes spread open wide. Seeing him there so close, she threw herself at him, her arms going around his neck.
His arm snagged her waist as he held himself steady so they wouldn’t tumble. She clung tightly to him as if she’d feared letting go and there was something different about the way she felt in his arms. She melted into them, against him, as she had once done. He reacted instinctively, pressing his cheek to hers, keeping her firm against him, never wanting to let her go.
Then something happened. She tensed and eased herself away from him and he had to fight hard to let her go. Her eyes held a look of surprise and he wondered what had happened.
She spoke as if she needed an explanation herself. “A recurring dream, I thought I was at Learmonth and you came for me. I forgot I was here.”
So she had dreamt of him as he had of her and she had hoped that he would return to her. But what had she expected him to do when she’d been wed to another?
He let that question go unspoken and instead asked, “What are you doing down here? You have a warm bedchamber.”
“I couldn’t sleep. And you?”
“I couldn’t sleep either,” he said and moved to sit beside her against the stone hearth.
A sadness gripped her chest. She had loved the man beside her for as long as she could remember. That hadn’t changed one bit. Why then did they act like strangers?
She got the courage to ask, “Did you think of me through the years?”
“I never stopped. You were on my mind endlessly,” he admitted.
She asked without thinking or hesitation, “Do you still love me?”
He turned his head to look at her when what he really wanted to do was to take her in his arms and kiss her senseless. “I never stopped loving you, Oria. I never will.”
“Then why this struggle between us?” she asked, joyful that he still loved her and yet worried of what stopped them from loving once again.
“I told you. I’m not the same man I once was,” he said.
“What does that matter?”
“That man you loved since you were young is gone. A different man has returned to you.”
Oria looked him up and down. “He looks the same to me, though a bit larger.”
“If only that was all,” he said. “You can’t tell me you don’t see a change in me.”
“You’re temperamental where you weren’t before.”
He grunted, his way of agreeing but not wanting to admit it.
“You dictate, though thinking on it that isn’t new.”
He sat forward and glared at her. “I never commanded you.”
She patted his thigh. “You did, but I never realized it since you were always cordial about it. It took being wed to Burnell for me to see it. Now, however, you dictate like a demanding chieftain.”
“What else did you learn being married to Burnell?” he asked, trying to keep the demand out of his tone.
“That friendship worked best when there was no love between a husband and wife.” She poked him in the arm. “And what did you learn that turned you into a grumpy old man?”
“I’m not old,” he argued.
She laughed softly. “So you admit to being grumpy.”
“I suppose I can be at times,” he admitted with reluctance.
She rested her hand on his arm. “That’s one thing I have always loved about you—your truthfulness. And I’m glad to see that hasn’t changed.”
“So much else has,” he said, not looking at her and trying to ignore how good her hand felt simply resting on his arm. Something he had once taken for granted far too much.
“You’re being too harsh on yourself, Royden.”
“No, I’ve done things I should have never done.”
“You did them to survive. We all did what was necessary to survive,” she said.
“And in doing so we altered our lives forever.”
“Then we start anew,” she said tired of this distance between them.
“And what if you don’t like the new me?”
“Then I’ll have to learn to live with and love a grumpy old man,” she said with a laugh.
“That shouldn’t be difficult for you to do since you already had an old man for a husband,” he said as if challenging her.
She laughed again. “All the better. I have the experience to deal with you.”
He leaned his face down close to hers. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”
She moved her face closer to his. “But I do. You’re the man who stole my heart all those years ago and no matter what—I’m not taking it back.”
“I’m not a nice man anymore,” he warned.
“You always had a wild side. You merely kept it tamed.” She gasped when she suddenly found herself in his lap and his arm around her.
“You can’t tame what’s inside me,” he warned.
She rested her hand to his cheek. “No, I can’t. Only you can do that.”
His hand gripped the back of her neck and he delivered a crushing kiss to her lips.
He stole her breath and when he stopped she could barely breathe.
“Whether I’m welcomed or not, I’ve gotten used to taking what I want.”
“Do you want me, Royden?” she asked her insides stirring madly.
“Aye, wife, I want you. I’ve always wanted you, and I’ll take you when I’m ready. And it won’t be an old man you’ll feel inside you.” He moved her off his lap, leaving her to sit on the floor as he got up and walked away.
“Royden,” she called out.
He didn’t turn, he kept his back to her.
“I wouldn’t know how an old man feels inside me. Burnell never consummated our vows. I’m still a virgin.”
Shock froze not only his limbs but his words as well and when he finally turned to face her—she was gone.
“Good, you’re awake.”
Royden turned to see Angus standing just inside the Great Hall door.
“Someone has word on Arran,” Angus said.
Royden hurried to follow Angus, but first chance he got, he was going to find his wife and… damn, he wasn’t sure what he was going to do.
“Don’t get close to him,” Angus said as they approached a figure, draped in the dark brown robe of a monk, standing at the bottom of the keep stairs. “He’s a leper.”
Royden stopped several steps away from the monk. He was hunched over from his illness or the sheer burden of it. The hood of his robe was drawn down over his face as far as it would go and he wore gloves. Royden preferred looking a man in the eye when he met him. Truth and lies could be seen there. This time, however, he didn’t mind since there was no telling the extent of damage the illness had caused to his face.
“You have word of my brother, Arran?” he asked and the monk nodded, keeping his head bent.
His voice was raspy, painfully so. “I met your brother on the road. It was late and cold. He and some other men had a fire and food and I took a chance to beg some food from them. Your brother defended me when the others went to chase me off. He even had them build a fire for me a distance away so I could stay warm for the night. When the men slept, he came to me and asked for a favor. I had mentioned I’d been headed this way. He asked me to stop here and tell you that he had one thing that needed his attention, then he’d be home. A month or more in his estimation. He also told me you would spare me some food.”
“How do I know the message is from him?” Royden asked.
“He thought you would ask that and he told me to tell you that what needed his attention pertained to the promise that you, your da, and he made five years ago.”
Raven.
It had to be. Arran must have gotten some information on her. At least he knew his brother was free of the mercenaries, though he wondered what men wer
e with him. They could be men from their clan since from what the leper had said, Arran seemed in charge.
“I’ll see that you get a full sack of food and you will leave at first light,” Royden ordered.
“Please, I beg of you, let me stay just inside the woods for at least a day or two. I kept a fast pace to get here and slept little. I need rest before I can continue.”
He did sound exhausted and Royden couldn’t imagine how unbearable his life must be. “Two days no more and I’ll see more food is given to you before you leave.”
“Bless you, my son, bless you,” the monk said, bobbing his head slowly.
Royden turned to Angus. “Get him some bread, meat and ale, and take him into the woods to where the tangled tree sits. He’s to stay there. Warn the others he’s there.” Angus went to turn away, but Royden caught his arm and spoke in a whisper. “How did he come to find you?”
Angus kept his voice low as well. “I couldn’t sleep and stepped outside. He stepped out of the shadows, scared the hell out me he did. Scared me even more when he told me he was a leper. I was going to chase him away when he mentioned Arran’s name.”
“How did he get past the sentinels?”
“My guess would be that he blended too well with the night for them to see him. And he walks almost soundlessly, but then he’s probably only a shadow of a man beneath that robe.”
Royden nodded. “See it done and keep a good distance.”
“I’m all for that,” Angus said and took a wide berth around the monk. “This way and don’t get too close or I’ll shove my sword into you.”
Royden saw then that Angus had his sword at his side. Habit. They had all learned to keep their swords with them or some type of weapon close by. It was a habit that would be hard to break. Or maybe they shouldn’t break it.
He entered the keep anxious to find his wife. She wasn’t in the Great Hall and he hurried to see if by chance she waited for him in his solar, but it was empty. He didn’t think she would go to his bedchamber, but he looked there just in case. She wasn’t there.
Her bedchamber. She had to have gone to her bedchamber. He took the stairs and saw that her chamber door sat ajar. A light flickered in the room from the fireplace and he eased the door open not wanting to wake her, though he was disappointed that he wouldn’t be able to speak with her until morning.
The one side of the bed lay empty and the other side was swathed in shadow. He approached quietly, but when he could see the bed clearly he rushed to it, and glared at an empty bed.
Where was his wife?
He rushed out of the room and continued his search. Arran’s room was empty and Raven’s as well. He even went to his mum’s small solar where she had done her stitching and sought solitude from two rambunctious sons. It was cold and empty as it had been since his mum’s death.
Worry mixed with annoyance. Where could she have gone? He stopped at his bedchamber to fully dress for the day, slipping on his shirt beneath his plaid and covering his stump with the leather cuff.
He wasn’t surprised to see Bethany in the kitchen readying food for the morning meal.
“Have you see, Oria?” he asked.
“No, sir, I haven’t.” Worry had her asking, “Isn’t she in her bedchamber?”
Royden shook his head. “No. She was in the Great Hall not long ago.”
“Does Oria know a leper beds down in the woods?” Bethany asked, turning anxious eyes on Royden.
“Angus was here to collect the food for the leper?”
“Aye, he left only a short time ago,” she said.
Worry began to mount in him. If she had foolishly gone off into the woods, she would get a taste of not the grumpy, old man she had believed he’d become, but of the commanding husband she thought him to be.
“Any thought to where Oria would have gone off to?”
“You would know that better than me, sir,” Bethany said.
“The years and distance between us have changed us both.”
“Years and distance can’t change the love you two have for each other. You both just need to find the way back there, back to the depths of your hearts. Think back to then.”
Royden shook his head unable to go back there to that time and place where he and Oria had been so happy, so in love.
A memory rose up to jolt him. The shed by the oak tree. They had often slipped behind it to catch a few moments alone and steal a kiss or two.
He turned to leave and stopped, turning back to Bethany. “I owe you much.”
“We are family,” she said, an unshed tear lingering in one eye.
“Aye, we are family and I’m blessed to have you,” Royden said and hurried off pleased that his sense of home was beginning to return to him.
A glimpse of dawn could be detected on the horizon. He approached the shed with rushed steps and called out as he did, “Oria!”
His heart hammered in his chest when there was no response and he rushed around to the back of the shed.
She wasn’t there.
Chapter 9
Royden was ready to roar his wife’s name out. Where had she gone? He raced to the barn, thinking she had once liked going there to see the kittens with Raven. While he had seen cats around, he hadn’t seen any kittens lately, but it was worth a try.
He grew more agitated when he didn’t find her there. He headed into the village, the only place he hadn’t looked. Fear soared in him when he saw Penn rushing at him, worry so strong on his face that all color was gone from it. Was he looking for him to deliver bad news about Oria? His heart pounded viciously in his chest, his stomach clenched so tight, he thought he’d double over.
Please. Please, God, don’t let anything have happened to my wife.
“Mistress Oria—” he stopped out of breath from rushing and tossed his head back to catch his breath.
Royden almost reached out to grab him and shake the words out of him, but he regained his breath just in time.
“Mistress Oria sent me to tell you that she’s tending to my wife’s birth.” Penn shook his head. “It’s too early for the bairn to be born,”
Relief slammed into Royden and he sent silent gratitude to the heavens that his wife was safe. He did, however, feel for Penn, since he would have felt the same if it had been Oria delivering their bairn.
Royden laid a solid hand on Penn’s shoulder. “My wife will know what to do. She’ll get Emily through this.” He had heard women talk that Oria had delivered a few bairns that had been born while he was gone. He trusted that she would know what to do. “Let’s see if the women need anything, then we’ll keep busy while the women see to your wife.”
Sara, Angus’s wife, was about to enter Penn’s cottage when they approached it and Royden called out to her, “Sara, if Oria has a moment, I’d like to speak with her.”
“Aye, sir,” Sara said and entered the cottage.
Only a few minutes passed, agonizing ones for Penn, and Oria stepped outside.
Penn rushed to speak before Royden could. “How is Emily?”
“Emily does well. It’s going to be a while. You should keep busy. I will send word when the time is near,” Oria said, her voice soothing and reassuring.
Penn felt helpless and it showed with the way he looked from Oria to Royden.
Royden laid a strong hand on Penn’s shoulder once again. “You can find us working on the new stone hut today.”
Relief surged on Penn’s face. He’d be able to see his cottage from where he worked and he was grateful.
Royden walked over to Oria. “Do you need anything? Are you all right?”
“All is good. Sara is here to help and Calla as well and with Calla having birthed five, healthy bairns she’ll be of great help.”
He reached out and tucked a long strand of her blonde hair, that had fallen along her face, behind her ear. “I want to know how you are.”
She smiled softly, recalling how often he had tended to one of her stray strands and how it had always w
armed her heart as it did now. “I’m good, Royden.”
“You will let me know if you need anything,” he said, though was acutely aware it sounded more like a command.
“I promise I will,” she said and instinct had her leaning forward and kissing his cheek.
He stood staring after her as she entered the cottage, the door closing behind her. He shook his head and turned to Penn. “Come, we must keep busy.”
Royden hefted stone after stone along with Penn and Stuart while Calla’s youngest two sons played with little Stuart, their da, Innis also helping, while the three older brothers worked in the fields. Royden was glad for the mindless work, not that it kept his thoughts from straying. He hadn’t had control of them since Oria had kissed him on the cheek—an innocent gesture that had touched his heart, the way her innocent touch had once stirred his loins.
He had never realized how much of a loving gesture it had been until that moment. A gentle kiss that demanded nothing but gave everything. That they loved each other wasn’t in question, that he had changed was and he worried those changes might make a difference between them.
He was also still reeling from finding out that his wife had remained a virgin, though wed. He had fumbled his way through coupling at first, finding little pleasure in it. Then experienced women he bedded showed him a different way. He had learned more after that, trying things he never would have thought to do or was even possible. He had found more pleasure in coupling once he had gained experience, but still sensed he was missing something. If he introduced such intimacy to his wife, would she object and would he finally find what was missing?
“Don’t worry, lad, she’ll do just fine,” Innis said.
“But will the bairn? She cried heavy tears that it was too soon, the bairn wouldn’t survive,” Penn said, his glance going to his cottage.
“Liam, over there,” Innis said with a nod toward a lad of about four years running in circles with little Stuart. “He came sooner than expected. Not much frightens my Calla, but she feared for the little bairn. I did to when I saw him, small and skinny he was, and he fit in the palm of my hand. But Lady—a mean Mistress Oria, she took good care of him. She made sure he was kept close to the heat of the hearth and she fed the little fellow drops of his mum’s milk off the tip of her finger since he didn’t have the strength to suckle. She saved his life, she did.”
Pledged to a Highlander: Highland Promise Trilogy (Book 1) Page 8