The Daring Twin

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The Daring Twin Page 13

by Donna Fletcher


  Fiona smiled with pride.

  “He will protect you against all odds,” Aliss whispered.

  “And I him.”

  Raynor returned as well, having seen to Tarr’s men.

  “Time to talk,” Raynor said, extending his hand for Tarr to proceed him to the dais and motioning the men to enjoy the food at the tables. Tarr took the seat next to Fiona.

  Raynor sat beside Aliss. “You can tell them apart now, can you not?”

  “It now appears easy to tell who is who,” Tarr admitted. “I do not understand how I could not have seen the obvious differences before. How did you?”

  “There is a slight distinction in their voices, and once I saw them it was easy for me to see my father Oleg in Aliss and my mother Anya in Fiona. But you will see for yourself what I mean. My parents will be here in a few short days and I request that you visit with me until then.”

  Tarr looked from one twin to the other. “This is your decision; I will abide by it.”

  “We are grateful for your understanding,” Aliss said.

  Fiona gently rested her hand over his and squeezed. “Thank you for giving us this time.”

  Tarr moved his hand over hers and held it with a tender firmness. It was a message to Fiona that he had no intention of letting her go.

  She grinned, placing her other hand over his and patting it, letting him know that it would be her choice. Then she looked to Raynor. “Tell us of our family and how we came to be separated.”

  “Our father Oleg is a Viking chieftain and our mother Anya is the daughter of the laird of the clan Blackshaw, who has passed on, leaving the leadership of the clan to me, his only grandson.

  “I was eight when you were born and a very proud older brother. I would guard you when you slept, my hand on my trusty wooden sword.”

  The twins smiled.

  “There was to be a large festival celebrating your births, and everyone was busy preparing for it. Mother kept you close by at all times, especially Fiona, she was the more demanding babe.”

  Tarr grinned and Fiona poked him in the ribs.

  Raynor’s smile faded. “It was only two days until the celebration. There was much going on and in the frantic pace of it all, you both disappeared. It was an easy enough abduction since the slave Shona, who helped during your birthing, simply walked off with you. No one thought to stop her; all assumed she was tending both of you while mother was busy. It was not until mother went to feed you that it was learned you were abducted.

  “A search was made but to no avail. It was believed she had to have had help, for she disappeared too fast being on foot. Days later it was learned the Shona somehow made it to the shores of Scotland. Father did all he could to find you. He and mother never stopped searching. Any mention of twin girls anywhere and father would investigate.

  “When Blackshaw land became mine, I alerted my men to look for twins wherever we went, and then one day I received information that Tarr of Hellewyk was to wed a twin of the clan MacElder.”

  “You never meant to attack my keep,” Tarr said. “But why attack us on the road if you meant no harm?”

  “Your scout saw our approach and assumed the worse. He raised sword against us and signaled an attack. I had no time to explain, nor a chance to catch a glimpse of the twins. But that is all done now; what matters is that I have found my sisters.”

  “Why would the slave abduct us?” Fiona asked.

  “We have wondered the same these many years,” Raynor said.

  “You never found out who helped her?” Aliss asked.

  Raynor shook his head. “We found nothing.”

  “How did a slave have such liberties as to walk freely with the babes?” Tarr asked.

  “Shona, the slave, had been with my father’s people since she had been young. She was an aging woman and seemed content with us. There was no thought that she would betray us. My father still cannot believe that she would do such a thing, and he has held firm to the belief that Shona made certain the twins would be cared for and not harmed.”

  “You think harm was meant us?” Fiona asked.

  “We do not know.”

  “No harm will come to them now,” Tarr stated boldly. “They are under my protection.”

  Raynor made no comment, though his eyes narrowed.

  “If Shona meant to protect us, would she not have separated us for safety reasons?” Aliss asked.

  “Shona often made mention of a prophetess’s words that the twins should never be separated. That could be the reason she kept you together.”

  Aliss turned to Fiona. “Mother repeatedly warned us that we were always to remain together.”

  Fiona agreed with a firm nod. “She was adamant about it.”

  “Tell us about your parents,” Tarr said.

  Aliss spoke up with a soft smile lighting her lovely face. “They were good people. I still find it hard to believe they were not our true parents.”

  “I am glad you had a good couple to look after you,” Raynor said, “and while it dulls the pain of your absence, it does not make up for the years I have missed being with you.”

  Aliss reached out and took her brother’s hand. “I can only imagine the pain you and our parents of our birth suffered, and I can understand your joy in this reunion, but it is different for me and Fiona.”

  “We knew only our adopted parents, and their love,” Fiona said. “Then ten years ago on our mother’s deathbed she confessed the truth. We were not hers or our father’s daughters. She had little breath left in her, her body ravaged by disease, so her words were sparse. She told us that if anyone learned the truth, we would be in danger. She warned that we were always to remain together.”

  “The slave must have confided in her,” Tarr said. “And with her dying breath, she continued protecting you.”

  Fiona looked at him confused. “What do you mean?”

  “She chose carefully what she told you, knowing she had little time left. In keeping you ignorant of your plight, she thought to keep you safe. She gave you just enough to warn.”

  “What were your thoughts when you heard this news?” Raynor asked.

  “It frightened us,” Fiona admitted, recalling how Aliss had huddled in her arms and cried. She had not; she knew at that moment she would protect them both for as long as they lived.

  “But it sent Fiona into action,” Aliss said with pride. “She sent a message with a passing cleric to our uncle Tavish, our mother’s brother. While we waited for him to come get us, she took care of all the outside chores, splitting wood, harvesting the last of the plants, tending the animals, repairing the thatching on the roof, and hunting small animals for food while I tended to the cooking and mending. She intended that we be prepared if our uncle did not arrive before winter set in.”

  “We discussed what mother had told us,” Fiona said, “and agreed to keep it our secret as mother had warned. It felt strange for us to think that the two people we loved so dearly and believed we were a part of were not truly our parents.”

  “And we wondered who our parents were and if they did not want us,” Aliss said.

  Raynor was quick to speak up. “Now you know the truth. Your parents loved you with all their hearts and were devastated by their loss.”

  “It is good to know that,” Aliss said.

  “And it was good to know that our uncle Tavish wanted us,” Fiona said. “Of course he believed us his nieces. He welcomed us wholeheartedly into his clan, announcing to all we were his sister’s daughters, which made us MacElders. We knew we could never confide our secret to him in chance of losing our only home.”

  Memories of those first few nights with the MacElder clan were the catalyst for Fiona’s determination to be independent and self-sufficient. Each night Aliss would cry in her sister’s arms, afraid that their uncle would discover the truth and cast them out of the clan. And each night Fiona would grow more determined in protecting her. She started adding to her already learned skills on their sec
ond day with the clan, insisting that her uncle teach her all he could. He had obliged and not dismissed the young girl with the willful spirit.

  “Did not your true identity haunt you?” Raynor asked.

  “When we grew older we discussed it more,” Aliss admitted. “But where was there for us to start? We knew so little and we were warned of danger.”

  “It was better left alone for the moment,” Fiona said, and smiled. “Besides we now have the truth and need not worry about searching.”

  “You have finally come home,” Raynor said. “And I will not lose you again.”

  “Fiona is mine,” Tarr declared. “Aliss may remain with her family.”

  Raynor disagreed. “Whatever arrangements you made with the MacElder clan concerning Fiona, is no longer valid. She is as free as Aliss in her choices.”

  “I will not argue this with you,” Tarr said as if it settled the matter.

  “No, you will not. My father will deal with you.” Raynor grinned. “He will determine who his daughter weds.”

  “No one but me determines my fate,” Fiona said, her bright green eyes daring anyone to disagree with her.

  “Yes, you are just like mother,” Raynor said with a hardy laugh.

  Tarr stood, shoving the chair away from him with his leg. “Fiona, I wish to speak with you alone.”

  Raynor rose slowly and stepped away from his chair.

  Fiona jumped up between them, spreading her arms out from her sides to keep them apart. “My decision.”

  Aliss cleared her throat loudly enough to get their attention. “I believe there is a question here that has been left unanswered.”

  The three stared at her perplexed.

  “If Fiona and I were in danger those many years ago, and mother warned us to keep our identities secret, does that mean when it is learned we have been found our lives will be in danger again?”

  Chapter 19

  Raynor and Tarr had attempted to reason that, after all these years, surely the danger to the twins had past, besides no one but Tarr and Raynor knew their true identity. Just to be safe, extra caution would be taken, meaning the two intended to keep close watch over the two women.

  Fiona walked with Tarr to the Hellewyk encampment.

  Night had fallen and with it a sudden chill wind.

  Fiona drew her green wool cloak around her and regarded Tarr out of the corner of her eye. He obviously was disturbed and she understood why. His plans to wed her had just come crumbling down around him.

  “The weather is set to change,” she said attempting to make conversation.

  Tarr nodded but said nothing.

  He was handsome even in deep thought; his brow knitted tightly, his eyes narrowed, and his shoulders were drawn back expanding his already wide chest.

  Aye, he was quite a man, and she was not certain that she was ready to give him up. He had potential as a husband, though bullheaded; he could be fair. He cared deeply for his clan and saw to providing more than adequately for their safety and welfare, which meant he would do no less for his wife and children.

  Then there were his kisses.

  She smiled to herself. She loved when he kissed her. She felt more alive when he kissed her, as though she suddenly emerged from a cocoon and was seeing and feeling the world for the very first time. And it was brilliant, filled with marvelous sensations and exquisite thoughts. She also found that she missed him when he was not near. She ached for the simple touch of his hand in hers or their frequent walks and how they would talk away hours. She was beginning to realize just how good they were together, and that made a good start for a solid marriage for sure.

  Sure.

  She had to be sure. She did not want to regret her decision.

  With little time left to them before her parents arrived, she decided to be direct. “You are troubled over the change this brings to your marriage plans.”

  Tarr stopped and looked at her, his expression potent. “This changes nothing.”

  Her eyes widened considerably. “You think not?”

  “I know so.”

  “And why is that?” She all but snapped, disappointment spawning anger in her. She had hoped he would see reason and give her a choice.

  “I believe you will honor the arrangement made by your cousin for you are a woman of your word. Though the MacElders are not your people, they cared for you when care was needed, and I do not think that you will dishonor them.”

  “I did not agree to this wedding.”

  “So you say, but you knew that when your identity was discovered you would do what was expected. And now that you know of your true parents, Aliss will have a home, which settles all problems.”

  Fiona stood speechless for a few moments, and actually, if she had not, she probably would have reached out and punched the fool. Finally she said, “You are an idiot.” She turned and started walking back to the keep.

  A firm grasp of her arm halted her.

  A stinging glare warned him to release her.

  He refused, and with a sharp yank she landed against him. “Then you wed an idiot.”

  Her smile was slow and sly. “We will see.”

  “Do not think you can win against me,” he warned.

  “I do not think,” she spat. “I know! And if you were not such an idiot you would know as well.”

  A rebellious yank of her arm and she was free to return to the keep.

  This time Tarr did not stop her. He watched her storm off, her steps more of a stamp then a shuffle. She was angry, but then so was he.

  He finally knew her identity. But discovering that she is not a MacElder at all does invalidate the agreement, not that he would admit it.

  He intended to wed Fiona. She belonged to him, at least he wanted to believe she did—or did he need her to belong to him? He turned and instead of entering his campsite, he wandered off on the outskirts in the dark until he plopped down by a boulder to rest.

  He had never equated love and marriage. Marriage was a duty, as he witnessed between his mother and father. He did not remember ever seeing his parents embrace; they lived separate lives and there had been talk that his mother had left his father’s bed after he was conceived.

  That his mother had loved him he had no doubt, but she had not loved her husband, and so Tarr grew up believing that love was not necessary to a marriage. He had thought love a fleeting emotion, there one moment gone the next, too elusive to hold on to and too complicated to explore.

  He shook his head and rested it against the hard rock. Why had he given love so much thought lately? It seemed to plague him, nag at him relentlessly.

  His mother had once told him that love could be felt with the heart. It could bring joy and it could bring pain, but it would not matter for you would never want to let it go.

  How would he feel if Fiona was taken from him?

  A wave of pure anger washed over him and as it receded, an awful ache settled in the pit of his stomach, not a sickness ache but one that could not easily be defined nor would he want to try. He only knew he had no want of it now or ever.

  If he felt this strongly about losing Fiona did it mean . . . ?

  Several oaths flew from his mouth, and he punched the ground beside him. Had he fallen in love and not even realized it?

  You are an idiot.

  Perhaps Fiona had been right, he was an idiot.

  He stood and looked to the keep. He had some thinking to do, some conclusions to reach. Some—

  He threw his hands up in the air. Who was he fooling? He had fallen in love and was too stubborn to admit it to himself let alone Fiona. And why should she believe him now. She would think his declaration of love a ploy in an attempt to get her to wed him.

  Now what was he to do?

  Persist in his usual fashion and demand his agreement with Leith MacElder be honored? Then let her learn of his love for her later. Or attempt to make her see reason now? They were made for each other, both being bullheaded, quick-witted and exceptio
nal warriors.

  Tarr had no idea what he would do. He knew only one thing. Fiona would be his wife.

  Fiona entered the keep mumbling to herself and looked to find a place of solitude, a nook or cranny so that she could be alone to think. She found it in a small barren room kept warm by a fire that burned in the hearth.

  She stood before the fire warming her chilled hands, her thoughts on Tarr. With so much news to digest, news that concerned her, she remained focused on Tarr. He invaded her thoughts day and night. There was not a moment she did not think about him.

  She knew she was falling in love with him.

  Why?

  That was a good question. There were many things she admired about him and a few things that displeased her, like the way he ordered her about, demanding she would be his wife.

  She hugged herself.

  She wished she knew what determined love, how to define it, and why love seemed more complicated than simple.

  She had been freed of wedding Tarr; the choice being left entirely to her.

  What did she do now?

  “What is it you want of me, Fiona?”

  Fiona turned as Tarr entered the room and her breath caught in her throat, though she refused to let him see her excitement. It surely had to be love. What else could explain the odd sensation that consumed her every time she saw him? Besides, she was still annoyed with him, but she was happy that he had followed her.

  “Do you know?” he asked when he reached her side.

  “We agreed to attempt to understand each other—”

  “How can I understand you if you do not talk and share your feelings with me?”

  “You do not even try to understand my feelings with regards to my sister,” she accused.

  “You want me to disregard my decision and appease you?”

  “Is that difficult?” she asked. “If it would remove a stumbling block to our being wed, why not?”

  “As my wife your duty is to me.”

  “That has nothing to do with my sister.”

  “You will forever spend time with her,” he argued.

  Fiona’s eyes rounded like full moons. “You are jealous of my sister.”

  “I am not.”

 

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