“Tomorrow you’ll go and tell him I want to speak with him and I expect you to return with him,” Royden instructed.
“And no telling him about what Chieftain Royden has to say to him,” John warned.
“He’ll expect me to tell him,” Penn said and none of the men appeared surprised.
“Looks like his loyalty doesn’t lie with the clan,” John said, turning a threatening glare on Penn.
“I not only found love here but a happiness I never knew existed. I don’t want to lose it. My loyalty lies here with my new home, my wife, my son. I’d do anything to protect it all. The man, the leader who built the band of mercenaries, has an unforgiving soul and I fear him more than anyone. So I do what I must to keep those I love and care about safe,” Penn said.
“Then you’ll tell me all I ask and all I need to know?” Royden asked.
“I know little since I was an insignificant warrior in a band of many. I became significant when I volunteered to remain here,” Penn explained. “And I did that because I fell in love with Emily and couldn’t bear the thought of leaving her.”
“And your reward for sacrificing yourself?” Royden asked, “since I assume this leader commands you to remain here until otherwise told.”
“My reward is being able to remain here with Emily forever,” Penn said.
“And are you beholden to this leader forever?” Royden asked.
“If I want to live.”
Royden seemed to grow taller as his shoulders spread and his chest expanded with each step he took toward Penn. When he reached him, he poked Penn in the shoulder with his cuffed stub.
“Are you telling me that your leader intends to always have a foot in my clan?” Royden demanded.
“As I’ve said, I know little. Fergus would know more. But I can tell you that he planned on claiming this whole area for himself and I’ve never seen him not get what he wants.”
Oria paced in her bedchamber later that night, her thoughts not able to let go of what had happened in the solar. She had spent a good portion of her time since then thinking of nothing else but how she could handle the situation. Did she take time, learn more about the man Royden had become, or did she welcome the man he’d become into her bed without any thought or reservations?
And truly what difference did it make? He was her husband and would remain her husband. Did she want to waste time getting to know this man or would it take being intimate with him to better understand him?
She shook her head, tired of the constant questioning. All that truly mattered was that she loved Royden and that hadn’t changed. If anything, her love had grown stronger through the years. There was never a time she doubted that he wouldn’t return to her.
“He needs to know that,” she said and rushed out of the room and down to Royden’s bedchamber, not stopping to don her robe over her white nightdress.
She barely knocked before throwing the door open. “Royden—”
He stood completely naked in front of the fireplace. The flickering flames bathing his body in a glowing light. She had always thought him a fine looking man and felt herself lucky that his body had yet to go soft. But now staring at him, seeing the scope of his defined muscles that were everywhere, his chest full and broad, the ripples of muscle along his flat stomach, the curve of his waist, the strength in his firm legs, and the size of his manhood that sprang to life before her eyes, she was speechless, and she grew aroused.
“You come barging in here without permission, yet you have nothing to say?” Royden said snappishly, annoyed that his shaft responded like a young lad unable to control his desires.
She brought her legs closer together, hoping to stop the throb that had settled there. “I thought to tell you something. It can wait until you cover yourself.”
“You’re my wife. There’s no need for me to cover myself in front of you,” he said and knew it unwise to remain naked in front of her, but ignored the thought, since he couldn’t help but see how she tightened her legs against the arousal that no doubt had snuck up on her.
She turned and closed the door and swallowed hard, thinking wisely on her words. While her body demanded that she didn’t, that she do what she wanted to do, what she ached to do—make love with her husband.
Oria turned and tried to keep her eyes on his face and no place else. “You believe you failed me, but I knew you didn’t, you wouldn’t. The whole time you were gone, I never doubted you would return home. I was sure of your return and there was nothing that could change that. I knew you would come back to me. I know our love is that strong.”
Royden wanted to go to her, scoop her up and lose himself inside her, but he stopped himself. “But that man is no more.”
“You told me that you still love me.”
“I do love you, more than ever,” he admitted.
“Then you are the same man I love and I welcome you to my bed,” she said, her quick decision a surprise, but one she didn’t regret.
“You tempt me, Oria, my shaft already thick and hard, ready to plunge into you. But why do you really welcome me to your bed? Is it that you’ve grown aroused at the sight of me naked and aching for you? Is it that you got a taste of pleasure and want more? Or could it be that your wide eyes show surprise at your own words? When you welcome me to your bed, it will because you wish to be a wife to the man who has returned to you, the man you say you love, but don’t truly know. So make sure the next time those words spill from your lips, you mean them.”
“Don’t you think there has been enough wasted time between us?” she asked, wondering what truly kept them from not consummating their vows, not finally bringing their love to fruition?
Royden took a step forward. “You think I want to waste time between us? I want to plant myself inside you every day, just as I planted myself in woman after woman after woman until I lost count of how many.” His body stiffened seeing that she couldn’t hide the shock in her eyes. “They meant nothing to me, I felt nothing for them. It was a need I had to satisfy just like the one that grows me hard now and just like the one that has you throbbing between your legs.”
It hit her then and she spoke without thinking. “You fear making love with me.”
Royden was at her side in three strides, planting his face close to hers. “I fear nothing. It’s you who should fear the stranger in your bed.”
She felt a chill run through her, but she kept herself from shivering. “You tell me not to wait long to welcome you to my bed and when I do you deny me and tell me I should fear you—a stranger. You are not a stranger to me. You are the man I have loved for as long as I can remember and it seems you need reminding of that. And while you might be afraid, I’m not,” she challenged. She walked boldly to the bed and climbed beneath the blankets.
Though she was foolish, Royden admired her courage. And while he didn’t fear making love to his wife, he did worry what she would think of him once it was done. He was far from the mannered man he’d once been.
Not trusting himself, he went and grabbed his plaid off the chest.
“You refuse to make love to me and if you refuse to sleep beside me, then I’ll surely know you’re a coward.” He turned a scowl on her that froze her. Otherwise, she would have jumped out of bed and hightailed it out of there to hide.
“You call me a coward?” he asked, not believing what he heard.
“If you don’t remain here and sleep beside your wife, you are a coward.” Good Lord, she said it again. Whatever gave her the audacity to say such a thing or demand he sleep with her?
He tossed his plaid aside and crawled slowly from the bottom of the bed up and over her. He almost smiled as she eased herself back to lay flat as he got closer and closer until he finally braced his stump and hand to either side of her head to keep his body hovering over her.
“So you invite me between your legs, do you?”
She did. Good Lord, she truly did, but… “No. You refused my offer so now you can wait.”
H
e all but choked on his word. “What?”
“You heard me. You’ll sleep beside me, but not make love to me.”
“And what’s going to stop me?” he asked, bringing his lips down to hover just above hers, then felt… “Did you just poke me in the chest?”
“I did,” she admitted.
“A poke, a sorrowful one at that, is not going to stop me.”
“It wasn’t meant to stop you. It was my response to your question—you.”
It took him a moment to comprehend, then he laughed. “I’m going to stop myself.”
“Aye, you will, since Royden would never force himself on me, not ever,” she said.
Damn, she was right, he wouldn’t. But… “I don’t have to force you, Oria, I know if I slip my hand between your legs I’ll feel how ready you are for me.”
“I won’t deny that,” she said, “but I will deny myself until you stop being such a stubborn arse.”
A spark of anger fueled his words. “So I’m a coward and an arse.”
“That will be up to you to prove otherwise.”
“By sleeping beside you in bed without touching you?” he asked.
“Aye, and I’ll have your word on it,” she said, hoping this sudden show of courage—tinged with a bit of fear—proved wise.
“You have my word, but just for tonight,” he said, capitulating, though he didn’t know why. His shaft was still hard and with her sleeping beside him, it wouldn’t soften anytime soon. And he wouldn’t go back on his word not to touch her, so it was going to be an agonizing night. Why then had he agreed? It was simple. He wanted her there beside him.
She smiled and pulled the blanket up under her chin. “Good-night, husband.” She turned on her side away from him, not trusting herself not to touch him when she ached to. But this was a start for them, here together in bed, and once in his bed, she didn’t intend to leave it.
He couldn’t get to her. No matter how fast or hard he ran, he couldn’t reach Oria even though she was close. It was as if something was holding him in place. He could see the blood, running down her neck, soaking her garments. She fought the man, her fisted hands punching at him. He yelled for her to stop but she didn’t and he made a fist, raising his hand and brought it down hard against her jaw, and she dropped to the ground.
He broke loose of whatever held him and ran, reaching the man before he could pick up Oria and throw her into a cart. His hand went to his throat and squeezed.
“I’m going to kill you. Kill you,” Royden raged.
He felt the man grip his arm, fighting to break free, and when he looked down, it was Oria’s hand he saw.
Royden woke to find his hand at his wife’s throat.
Chapter 12
Royden woke with an ache in his neck. He unfurled himself from the wooden chair, stretching his neck and shoulders as best he could. He cringed not from the aches of sleeping in a chair in his solar, but with the memory of what he had done to his wife last night.
He got to his feet, stretching as he did, working the soreness out of his taut muscles. He’d been sickened by finding his own hand squeezing the life from his wife when he woke with a jolt from his nightmare. He was surprised she hadn’t run from the room when he had quickly let go of her, though her labored breathing may have had something to do with that.
He had hastily slipped his arm around her waist and lifted her to sit up so she could breathe more easily. He’d been afraid to touch her after that. He had no right to, not ever again. Highlanders were great warriors, never fearing to fight, but he hadn’t been prepared for the savagery that he’d had to embrace when with the mercenaries. He had feared becoming a savage himself and if he had had any doubt last night proved that he had become one.
Never again would he sleep beside his wife and he doubted she would disagree, since when he left the room she hadn’t stopped him. He had grabbed his garments and boots on his way out and was glad he had. He wasn’t prepared to face his wife just yet and he wondered if she felt the same.
Quick strides took him to the kitchen where he found Bethany starting to prepare the morning meal before her helpers arrived, a habit of hers since as long as he could remember. Her raised brow told him she was surprised to see him and he understood why. He rarely came to the kitchen since his return home.
“What’s wrong?” she asked like a mum worried for her son.
He was going to remind her of her place, speaking to him so bluntly, but she truly was family and she had made sure to take care of the Clan MacKinnon in his absence.
“I’m not the man I once was,” he said.
“None of us are who we were once. The attack and the passing years changed us, changed everything. We can’t go back. We can only go forward,” she said and handed him a slice of fresh baked bread. “There is one thing that hasn’t changed, though, and never will. Our love for our clan, our family, and one another. It is what holds us together, what drives us to survive. You and Oria are a shining example of that love and the clan will rejoice and fill with promise for the future when the time comes for you and Oria to announce she is with child. It proves the Clan MacKinnon was not defeated. It lives on.”
Royden ate the bread without thinking as he had done when captive. Food had been provided, but there had been occasions when it had been scarce and he had learned after that to eat when he could.
“The clan knows they now have a chieftain, much like his da, who they can count on,” Bethany said.
Duty. He had a duty to his clan. He had had a duty to survive. He had had a duty to return home, but he didn’t have a duty to love Oria. That was something he had chosen himself and she had chosen it as well. He did, however, have a duty to protect her and keep her safe. And after last night that meant keeping her safe from him.
“You were a good, honorable man before this happened and you’re still a good, honorable man,” Bethany said, tears glistening in her eyes.
Royden left the kitchen grateful for her words, but knowing they were far from the truth.
Oria hadn’t slept since she woke with her husband’s hand at her throat, squeezing until she barely could breathe. She understood it had been a nightmare that had driven him to do it. Still, it had been a frightening experience. From the profound shock and horror on his face, she knew he would never permit her to sleep beside him again. While the thought of his nightmare returning and it happening again frightened her, the thought of never sleeping by her husband’s side frightened her even more.
She feared no amount of reasoning with him would work. The problem was he needed her and she needed him. They desperately needed each other.
She didn’t bother to rush out of bed and find him. She was well aware that he would avoid her. She turned and moved over to his side, taking in his scent, a fresh scent since he had washed last night.
Oria was unable to resist hugging his pillow as she held it tight against her. It had her recalling how she had loved when he would hug her close and she would bury her face against his shirt and relish his scent, a mixture of earth, forest, and sweat blending into an intoxicating scent that was his and his alone.
Comforted by the familiar scent and memory, her eyes closed and she fell into a much needed sleep.
Royden met with Penn before he left to take the message to Fergus that he wanted to see him—today—to make sure he did as instructed. Then he went to see that chores were being seen to, not that it was necessary since everyone was eager to pitch in and do their share. It provided Royden with the time to talk with clan members, hear what they had to say and determine what he could do to improve things.
The one thing most complained about was that the clan didn’t have the men and strength to survive another attack. The clan had to grow or it would never survive. He agreed with them and his hope was he could make that happen.
It was a fairly nice day, a mixture of sun and clouds, though more sun. A good day to be outside. And a poor excuse not to enter the keep and talk with his wife. He i
ntended to make it clear to her that they would sleep in separate beds and he had not a sliver of doubt she would disagree.
“Whatever it is, it’s best you talk with her and get done with it,” Stuart said.
Royden sent a questioning look to him.
“I’ve been talking to you for the last few minutes and you haven’t heard a word I’ve said. And I’m far too familiar with that look, since I’ve worn it enough on several occasions,” Stuart explained with a grin.
Royden grunted, annoyed at himself.
“Go, all is good here,” Stuart urged.
Stuart was right. He needed to get this done and over with without delay. Oria was probably in the Great Hall having the morning meal. It would be good to talk with her there. With servants about she would be less likely to argue with him.
He was surprised to find she wasn’t there and stopped a servant. “Do you know where Mistress Oria went after she finished her meal?”
“The mistress hasn’t been down for her meal yet,” the servant said.
That worried Royden and he hurried up the stairs. Was she that upset about what happened last night that she still hadn’t left his bedchamber? Or had she gone to her own, not wanting to remain in his bed?
He got his answer quick enough when he entered his quarters and walked over to the bed to find her sleeping on the side of the bed he had slept last night. She was entangled in the blanket, embracing his pillow as if she was holding tightly to him.
He shook his head. It wasn’t going to be easy getting her out of his bed, especially since she was right where he wanted her. He had had endless dreams of sleeping beside her while away, their naked bodies pressed close, his arms tucked snuggly around her, the flowery scent of her tickling his nose. The worst part had been waking up and finding it had all been a dream. It had torn at his heart each and every time.
He went to leave but first stopped and added logs to the dwindling fire. He didn’t turn to look at her again as he left, his mind too occupied with how he’d stop himself from keeping her in his bed.
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