Tarr needed no advice. He was an exemplary leader and certainly a man any woman would be proud to have as a husband, any woman but her.
She was greeted with smiles, waves, and a shout of welcome now and again. They did not stop to speak with a single soul, this walk was not to introduce her to anyone since how could he; he knew not who she was. This walk was for her to be introduced to a home, a home that could be hers if she so chose.
It had its appeal, she had to admit, as did the man walking beside her. The gleam in his eyes spoke of pride for his people, his confident gait announced him a strong leader, and the width of him left no doubt he could defend his clan with honor.
“I have much to offer a wife.”
He was right. He had much to offer a wife, all that most women would want, but she was not like other women. She wanted to look with love upon the man she wed and feel it deep within her heart. She wanted to ache to touch her husband and feel content when she cuddled in his arms. She wanted her babes conceived from love for she did not know if she could submit to a man out of mere duty.
“Your thoughts are deep.”
He attempted to step closer to her, but she placed a distance between them with the sudden thought that if she foolishly began to feel for this man and he did not return her affection, she would suffer for it.
“My thoughts are private.”
“I will share them with no other.”
“True enough, for I will not speak of them.” She walked on ahead of him and intended not to glance back to see if he followed. Then she realized that he might return to the keep, visit with Aliss and learn of her deception regarding Raynor.
She turned in a hurry and collided with Tarr. His arms wrapped around her to steady them both, and his dark eyes caught her in a grip that sent gooseflesh rushing over her. She tugged to free herself, but he held strong.
“Free me,” she demanded in a harsh whisper.
“You are not my prisoner.”
His face was much too close to hers, his breath whispering like a warm breeze against her cheek. It sent another rush of gooseflesh running over her.
He stepped away from her suddenly and she stumbled back. This time he did not offer her help and she steadied herself.
Kirk approached them on a run, stopping at Tarr’s side. “Raynor’s men lurk in the woods to the north.”
“I did not think they would desert him.”
“They could be waiting for a reinforcement of warriors,” Kirk suggested.
Fiona offered her opinion. “Or waiting for the injured to heal and see what they can find out about their leader.”
“His dead body will be returned to them,” Tarr clarified.
“If he should survive his wounds, what then?” Kirk asked.
Tarr shrugged. “It matters not, for his fate remains the same.”
“Will you not question him first? Learn what you can? Learn why he attacked you?” Fiona sounded as though she disputed his decision.
“Raynor will answer many questions before he meets his fate, though his answers will not change his destiny,” Tarr answered confidently. “His capture will, however, end the senseless dispute that has raged between our clans.”
Fiona thought of the man Aliss now healed only to die. Her sister would not be happy with the decision and might very well put herself in danger to help Raynor. She fought hard to save the ill and wounded, and saw only senselessness in executions and torture. Fiona did not always agree with her sister’s opinion, since there were those she felt deserved the hangman’s noose.
“Do what you must,” Fiona said, appearing unconcerned. “I will leave you to discuss the matter.” She did not rush off, though she wished to dash to the keep and alert Aliss to the pending problem. She strolled as if enjoying the day and the sights of an active, thriving village. With measured steps she entered the keep and, once inside, made a dash for the stairs.
“It is difficult to judge her character,” Kirk said, turning to Tarr as the twin entered the keep. “She appears headstrong and demanding one moment and then sweet and pleasant the next.”
“They wish to keep me puzzled.”
“I think they are succeeding.” Kirk coughed away a laugh. “The mighty Tarr has been duped.”
“You know me not if you think that, my friend.”
Kirk wisely let it be and returned to the previous matter at hand. “You will question Raynor if possible, will you not?”
“Aye, I want to know if I had been his intended target or was I merely in his way? I hope to have the chance to ask him.”
“Then his fate has yet to be settled? Yet you told the twin—”
“What I wish her to know. His answers will seal his fate, so let us hope he wakes and answers to my satisfaction.”
Chapter 7
Fiona sat on the steps of the keep bored to death. In the last two days, she had done nothing but trade places with her sister to keep company with Tarr. Not that Aliss wanted to trade places, she was too busy tending the ill and making certain no one discovered that Raynor had woken.
Aliss had been especially worried after Fiona had warned her that Tarr expressed no pity for his prisoner. True to her nature, Aliss wished to heal and protect, which meant she found excuse after excuse to see that Fiona spent more time with Tarr than she did.
A large shadow fell over her, blotting out the bright sun.
“You look lost,” Tarr said.
She caught her tongue before she could claim boredom. The twins appeared busy enough with all the healing Aliss had done. Letting him know she was bored would alert him to her identity.
“I am relaxing in the early morning sun.”
He stepped to her side so that the sun could once again drench her.
She smiled at his considerate action and got the sudden urge to spend time with this man who so intrigued her. But she did not wish to stroll his land, or sit and talk. She wanted to be involved with his daily routine and discover his true nature.
“What are you doing?” she asked, standing.
“I am going hunting.”
She almost jumped for joy. She had not hunted in weeks and ached to feel her bow in her hands, but again that would alert him to her identity.
“Would you like to go with me?”
He laid a trap for her, knowing full well Fiona would jump at the chance to hunt. Besides, his dark eyes glistened with a hint of mischief and a smile lurked at the corners of his mouth. He obviously enjoyed this little trick, thinking he was about to snare his prey.
Fiona set a trap of her own. “I would like to see how good of a hunter you are.”
He appeared ready to laugh. “You doubt my skills?”
“Not all warriors make good hunters.”
He pounded his chest. “I am good at everything I do.”
Fiona let loose with laughter.
“You doubt me?”
She stifled the last bit of laughter, amazed with his sense of humor. She had believed him a staunch warrior who thought of nothing but battle and gaining wealth, but there was more to this mighty warrior.
He was respected and loved by his people and he provided well for his clan, and he had a good sense of humor.
“I need proof,” she challenged.
He held his hand out to her and she eagerly took it.
“You shall have fresh meat for supper this evening.”
They walked into the woods, Fiona wishing she had her bow. Unfortunately, she would be a spectator only for this hunting expedition.
She caught the sight of tracks early on but said nothing to Tarr. Her father had taught her to hunt well, and she had sharpened her skills through the years. She would not chance ever going hungry.
“I would teach you how to track,” Tarr whispered. “But silence is best when hunting.”
She nodded and paid careful attention to his steps and actions. It did not take long to realize his trap remained set and that he waited to snare her. Fiona drifted away from him to
purposely cross the animal’s tracks that she had seen and had thought Tarr ignored.
He grabbed her arm and shook his head. “Follow in my footsteps. You trample tracks.”
Fiona looked with eager eyes at the ground around her. “Where?”
With an exasperated huff, he tugged her behind him.
She pursed her lips to keep her giggle silent. She could only imagine how confused he must feel, and a part of her sympathized with him—but only a tiny part. After all, he had brought this on himself and would suffer his own consequences just as he had proclaimed for Raynor.
They moved along, Fiona turning her footsteps light so they could barely be heard. When finally a rabbit was spotted, they both stilled. Tarr took aim and missed.
She could have told him his aim was off just by the way he held his bow, but she remained quiet and alert. She wanted to grab the bow from his hands when he missed the second animal, but wisely remained quiet.
She was glad she had, for when he missed the third she knew then that his haphazard aim was off on purpose. He truly was a skilled warrior, especially adept at subterfuge.
“I think you need some practice,” she whispered in his ear.
He turned. “Let us see if you are any better.”
She could not refuse his offer since he shoved the bow into her hands. The smooth wood was warm from his grasp, but without the sweat found on the bows of warrior’s lacking confidence.
Tarr had no such problem. He had a faith in himself that Fiona admired. At first, she had believed him arrogant and dictatorial, but lately, after getting to know him, she had revised her opinion. He was a man of honor and distinguished pride, and of course a proficient strategist, even at a moment’s notice.
He grew more appealing the more he intrigued her.
She fumbled with the bow and arrow, though it was unfair to Aliss. Fiona had taught her sister the fundamentals of bow hunting in case the need should ever arise, and she had hit her target often enough.
For now at least, Tarr expected a difference between the twins, and she did not intend to disappointment him.
Fiona laughed as she clumsily attempted to connect bow and arrow. Tarr stood watching her until, finally, shaking his head, he took the weapon from her. He moved close beside her, his body leaning into hers, and she let him.
She waited to see his intention, and in that moment of awkward silence, she thought she heard the steady beat of his heart. It was a strong, rhythmic thumping, not too fast or too slow but sturdy and dependable.
The solid strength of him had impressed her, but this self-assurance made her realize just how worthy an opponent he was.
“Why are you so opposed to this union?”
His question startled her. “You ask such a question while hunting?”
“We hunt not only for food but the truth, and you are well aware of that.”
“The truth is Fiona never wanted this marriage, and with many willing MacElder woman to choose from this all could have been settled by now. If you search for the truth, then I suggest you begin with yourself. Why did you pick Fiona?”
She shook her head before Tarr responded. “Do not bother with the same explanation. Tell me something different.”
He answered fast enough. “I wished a woman of multiple talents, not merely the basics.”
“Why?”
“So that we would have interests to share and I would not grow bored with her.”
“Are you sure it is not love you look for?” she asked.
“Why are you so insistent on loving?”
“Love bonds.”
“Commitment bonds. Love has nothing to do with it.”
Fiona scowled. “You are cynical when it comes to love.”
“And you are childish to believe such fairy tales of everlasting love.”
All but ready to lash out at him she kept a tight rein on her mouth. Instead, she asked, “Why are you afraid to love?”
He stared at her as if she had just pierced his heart with an arrow. “I fear nothing.”
She shrugged. “Deny it if you wish, but it is obvious.”
“And what do you fear,” he retaliated.
“Not being loved,” she shot back.
A sudden sound had both their heads turning. A large buck stood still in the distance as if just catching their scent.
Tarr raised his bow and with arrow ready, he took aim, held, and released as the buck took off. The arrow whizzed past the animal’s head.
“Damn,” he muttered.
“You aimed too high.” She bit her tongue too late.
He shoved the bow at her in a challenge.
She shook her head. “I hunt the truth today.”
He took a quick step toward her, dropping his bow. “Then tell me how this makes you feel.” He reached out, took her in his arms, and kissed her.
He stunned her, and for a moment she did not respond. Then, when she felt the full force of his solid lips pressed to hers, she lost herself in the taste of him. She allowed herself to surrender completely to the magic. She did not think or grow anxious or question; she simply enjoyed the kiss.
She allowed time to stand still, for sounds to vanish, and for there to be only the two of them locked in a loving embrace and devoured by a kiss.
He brushed his lips over hers several times when he finished and rested his forehead to hers. “You owe me an answer.”
She took a moment to catch her breath before smiling. “It makes me feel alive, like the sky is more blue, the air more crisp, the sun brighter.”
“Be careful, you may be falling in love.”
She pulled away from him, annoyed at his teasing tone. “You may know how to kiss, but you do not know how to shoot.”
“This hunt is over.”
“For today.”
Tarr bent to retrieve his bow.
A sudden sound had Fiona turning to a deer running into view. She quickly drew an arrow from the pouch strapped on Tarr’s back, grabbed the bow from his hand, and with light steps hurried forward readying her weapon.
She halted and stilled all movement, her weapon ready to shoot. With strength born of determination, she drew the bow back and fired. The arrow felled the deer.
Fiona handed the bow to a stunned Tarr. “I return to the keep. While you gut the animal, you can wonder who I am—healer or hunter?”
Chapter 8
“Stop! Stop and leave it for Aliss to do,” Raynor complained, pushing her hand away from his face.
“Aliss is busy with Tarr. You are stuck with me, and I am just as gentle,” Fiona insisted.
“As gentle as a stomping bull. You and your sister are as different as your voices.”
His remark stunned Fiona silent, though only for a moment. “There is no one who can tell our voices apart.”
“I can, and with ease.”
The door flew open suddenly and Aliss stood in the doorway appearing flustered.
Fiona knew immediately that something troubled her sister, and Tarr had to have been the culprit.
“I think I have made a dreadful mistake.” Aliss’s chest heaved as though she had run miles.
“I assume things did not go well?” Fiona asked, standing and dropping the washcloth in the bowl of warm water on the chest beside the bed.
“Tarr did not hurt you, did he?” Raynor asked, his effort to rise proving futile.
With a firm hand to his chest, Aliss pushed him back on his pillow. “Nay, he did not.”
“This should not be discussed in front of the prisoner,” Fiona said sharply.
“My concern is for Aliss,” he snapped. “She has been kind to me and I will not see her hurt. Tarr is not dim-witted, and in no time he will distinguish the difference between you two, since it is obvious you play a game with him.”
“Tarr knows nothing,” Fiona said, bending over Raynor. “You would do well to keep any knowledge of our identities to yourself.”
“You threaten me?” Raynor made to move again.<
br />
Aliss held him down and nudged her sister away with her shoulder. “Stop, the both of you. Threats will settle nothing.”
“Nor speaking in front of the prisoner, as I have advised time and again,” Fiona said, frustrated. “We need to speak in private.”
“My eyes, Aliss, you promised.”
“There are more important matters than your eyes,” Fiona said.
“You will open your eyes this night, I will make certain of it,” Aliss assured him. She squeezed the warm cloth in the bucket and placed it over his eyes. “Leave this on and rest until I return. I will not be long.”
They walked outside, Fiona insisting a reprieve from the keep would do them both good. They smiled, presenting a perfect picture of twin sisters taking a leisurely stroll, and all the while Aliss detailed how Tarr attempted to kiss her and how she had gotten flustered, they tripped, he landed on top of her, and she had frantically pushed him off.
Fiona realized that her sister thought she would be mad, but she smiled. “I would have loved to have seen that.”
“You are not upset?”
“Why would I be?” Fiona asked as they left the group of cottages to walk in the open meadow.
“For one, I feared I exposed my identity; and second, I think you begin to care for this man and I worry I may have hurt your chances with him.”
“I admit he stirs an interest in me. I am amazed at his patience in dealing with us. I thought by now he would have been frustrated and returned us home.” She shook her head. “Instead, with patience, he shows us all he has to offer a wife”
“Do you wish to alter our plan?”
“Not unless I see a reason to change it.”
“What if Tarr actually toys with us?” Aliss asked. “What if already he can tell us apart?”
“Not likely,” Fiona said with confidence. “He has demonstrated that he is a man on a mission. He is as determined to have a strong wife who will defend his land and bare him mighty sons as I am to wed for love.”
The Daring Twin Page 5