Chapter 14
“It’s Slatter.”
Snow smiled as her brother-in-law took her arm. “You needn’t escort me. I can maneuver the Great Hall well now.”
“I know. It is but an excuse for me to have a few moments alone with you.” He kept his voice low as they walked slowly through the hall. “This decision is yours, Snow, but I wanted to make it clear that if at the last minute you change your mind, I will gladly see Lord Polwarth escorted out of the keep and sent on his way.”
“Do you not like him?” Snow asked anxiously. “And, please, your honest opinion, Slatter.”
“My honest opinion would be, I don’t know. He seems a pleasant man and while I know him only by name, I’ve heard no bad words said about him.”
“Still, you seem hesitant.”
“One truly never knows someone until they’ve spent time with them. A pleasant manner could hide a devious man. So, if you are unsure, speak up and reject this marriage. Then you will come live with Willow and me and our many future bairns and be well-loved.”
“You are a good man, Slatter,” Snow said.
“Shhh, you’ll ruin my reputation,” he warned with a laugh.
Snow laughed along with him, though her heart felt heavy, so heavy she feared it would break in two. She had not slept all night, her thoughts on this day, this marriage. Was it the right thing to do? Had she rushed foolishly into it and would she regret it? Should she change her mind?
Lord Polwarth had been nothing but kind to her even letting her know that he would not hold her to her word if she should decide differently, since this was a sudden decision for her. He had visited throughout the week, had sat and talked with her, held her hand or took her arm and had been more than kind and mannerly to her.
Thaw was pleasant to Lord Polwarth except when he placed a hand on her, then he growled and snapped. Lord Polwarth had assured Thaw that he meant her no harm and had assured Snow that the pup would grow accustomed to him.
“What do you whisper to my sister?” Willow asked when they reached her.
“A last minute escape,” Slatter said in a conspiratorial whisper.
“When? How?” Willow asked in hushed excitement. “I knew you’d come to your senses.”
“Slatter teases,” Snow said and could all but picture the disappoint on her sister’s face.
Willow went to punch her husband in the arm for getting her hopes up, but he grabbed it, wrapped her in a hug, and pressed a kiss to her cheek.
“I told her if she changes her mind we are here for her,” Slatter whispered near her ear.
Willow hugged her husband. “Bless you.”
“I am sorry for the delay, Lord Polwarth. The cleric should be here soon,” James said as he and Polwarth entered the Great Hall, having finished in the solar.
“There is time enough,” Lord Polwarth said, then laughed, “though, with my fifty years, you never know. Snow, you stun the eye.” He took her hand as soon as he reached her side. “You are beautiful, my dear.” He kissed her hand to the annoyance of Thaw, who growled at him.
Eleanor had said something similar to her earlier when she had finished helping her get ready for the ceremony. Snow thought it kind of her to say, since she believed she looked little different than usual. A gold-colored tunic covered a deep green shift and Eleanor had swept her hair up in some fashion, though some strands were left free to partially fall along her neck.
“How kind of you, Lord Polwarth,” Snow said and eased her hand out of his upset that she felt a great unease at his unobtrusive kiss.
That was another thing she had given thought to, intimacy with Lord Polwarth. He seemed kind enough, and yet the thought of coupling with him left her feeling unsettled. And now that his kiss to her hand left her feeling uneasy, she worried how she would react to a more intimate kiss.
Did she follow through with this marriage or did she heed Slatter’s words and go live with them and be well-loved?
The door opened and a short, rumpled cleric entered, servants rushing to help him close it, the wind that rushed in with him too powerful for his frail demeanor.
“Gray clouds and wind, another storm brews,” he said, shaking his partially bald head.
Snow placed her hand on her stomach, wishing she could stop the churning from growing worse. Or was her upset stomach an omen she should pay attention to? What was it her mum had often said?
If a decision causes discomfort or doubt, pause and give thought.
In her sadness and self-pity, had she unwisely committed to something that wasn’t right for her?
“It is good we see the ceremony done with haste so that my new bride and I may be on our way home before the weather keeps us here,” Lord Polwarth said.
“But there is the small celebration that’s been prepared,” Willow argued, not ready to let go of her sister.
“I fear the weather prohibits us from lingering. We’ll celebrate another time,” Lord Polwarth said and once again took Snow’s hand. “It is time, my dear.”
Snow let herself be directed where to stand, her mind churning as much as her stomach. Did she want this? Should she stop it?
Did she love Tarass?
A pain so sharp struck her that she thought she’d been stabbed in the heart. There was no denying it, no matter how much she tried. She had fallen in love with Tarass. How that had happened, she had no idea, but she could no longer allow herself to deny it. And finally realizing that made her also realize that this marriage she had agreed to was a mistake.
She was jolted out of her thoughts when the cleric began the ceremony.
She had to stop this, but how? How did she tell Lord Polwarth she didn’t want to wed him?
The door flew open, banging violently against the wall, causing everyone to turn and see a gust of swirling wind and snow sweep in along with a man, the hood of his fur-lined cloak covering half of his face. He didn’t hesitate to toss the hood back.
Tarass stood there a moment, still as a statue, his eyes aglow with fire and his stance one of a warrior ready to attack. His eyes latched onto Snow and strong strides brought him further into the Great Hall. Twelve of his warriors suddenly filed in and followed behind him, dividing into two groups of six that flanked him as he strode forward.
“Snow belongs to me,” Tarass shouted, his voice echoing off the high ceiling.
Shock to hear Tarass’s voice and hear him claim she belonged to him stunned Snow silent. She couldn’t believe he was there. Couldn’t believe he demanded that she belonged to him. And yet, her heart swelled with a sense of joy. She was relieved when she felt Willow take her hand and squeeze it, letting her know she was there beside her.
Polwarth spoke up. “Snow does not belong to you, Lord Tarass, she is about to become my wife.”
To the shock of everyone, Thaw went running to Tarass, yapping all the way, then stopped in front of him, and turned to bark at Lord Polwarth.
“Wise choice, Thaw,” Tarass praised the pup, then called out, “You’re wrong, Polwarth. Snow will not wed you, she belongs to me. She became mine not only on the night we spent together in the cottage in the woods when I rescued her, but the night we slept together in my guest bedchamber,” Tarass said to the astounding shock of all around him.
“You never mentioned that,” James said, when he found his voice.
“You lie,” Polwarth accused.
“Watch who you call a liar, Polwarth,” Tarass warned, his hand going to the hilt of his sword at his waist.
“You never mentioned this before and you expect to be believed now?” Polwarth demanded. “And don’t think to have Snow confirm or deny this. It is inconceivable that you would tarnish her reputation this way.”
“I tarnish nothing. I keep what is mine and Snow is mine,” Tarass said, challenging the man.
“Prove it,” Polwarth said, returning the challenge.
“Fetch her,” Tarass ordered sharply and the warrior to his right hurried out of the keep.
Snow gripp
ed her sister’s hand, shock and that twinge of joy turning to dismay and apprehension. Why was he doing this? Why was he claiming she belonged to him? Why reveal secrets that would force James to demand he marry her? Something he had made clear he had no wont to do.
Silence reigned while after a few moments a young lass entered the Great Hall and came to a stop beside Tarass.
“Tell them, Nettle. Tell them what you saw when you entered Snow’s bedchamber that morning.”
Nettle didn’t hesitate to obey. “I saw Lord Tarass naked in bed with Snow.”
Gasps circled the hall and once again Snow squeezed her sister’s hand.
“Is this true?” Willow whispered in Snow’s ear.
Snow nodded, though didn’t explain that it was all innocent and nothing happened between Tarass and her, since it would make no difference. He had been in bed naked with her and that was all that mattered.
“It matters not to me that you soiled her,” Lord Polwarth said. “I will wed Snow and keep her safe from the likes of a barbarian.”
“Even with my seed planted firmly in her belly?” Tarass asked, taking several steps toward the man.
Snow was shocked at his words, since there was no chance of that.
“You are a crude man,” Polwarth accused.
“I am a man who keeps what is mine and I will repeat it until you finally grasp it. Snow belongs to me,” Tarass said, claiming it so once again.
“Then step forward, wed her, and keep her from ruin,” the cleric challenged with a firm voice.
“That is madness. You cannot mean to give this kind and beautiful woman to the devil himself,” Polwarth protested.
“There is a witness who saw that Snow gave herself to the devil and now she belongs to him,” the cleric said, pointing to Tarass.
“The lass lies for the Lord of Fire,” Polwarth accused.
“I do not lie,” Nettle said, affronted. “I speak what I saw. I speak the truth.”
“Do you swear by all that is holy and your heavenly soul that you speak the truth?” the cleric asked.
“I would not lie and condemn my soul to hell,” Nettle responded.
“There you have it,” the cleric said. “The lass protects her soul and speaks the truth. No more proof is needed. Give yourself pause, Lord Polwarth. What would your friends think of you marrying a woman who gave her body and soul to the devil?”
Snow clung tightly to her sister’s hand, listening as her reputation was shredded with nothing more than a few words and with only parts of it being the truth. While she thought of speaking up, of defending herself, it wouldn’t matter. That Tarass had been in bed with her was wrong in itself. That he’d been naked only made it worse.
She jumped when she felt a hand grab her arm and powerful fingers close tightly around her soft flesh.
“You will be my wife?” Tarass asked.
Why… was on her lips, but never slipped past them.
“I will not be a witness to this travesty,” Lord Polwarth exclaimed and stormed out of the keep.
Snow stood beside Tarass, his grip firm on her arm as if he never intended to let go of her, and it wasn’t long before she heard the cleric begin the ceremony. She was surprised when Tarass spoke the vows without hesitation and even more surprised when she did the same.
When the cleric pronounced them husband and wife, Snow thought herself dreaming. She had woken today prepared to exchange vows with Lord Polwarth and here she was wife to Tarass, the Lord of Fire. She was still wondering how it had happened.
“We leave for home now,” Tarass announced.
Willow protested. “You cannot wed my sister and leave without any further words of explanation.”
“I can and I will, and I owe no explanation,” Tarass said. “This is done. Snow is mine now and she will obey me.”
Slatter laughed. “Good luck with that. There isn’t a Macardle sister that obeys her husband and I for one would have it no other way.”
Willow turned a smile on her husband.
“The marriage document must be changed, signed, and sealed,” the cleric reminded. “And I wouldn’t mind a drink while seeing it done.”
“Nettle, help my wife with whatever she needs and see that the men secure her belongings,” Tarass commanded.
“Aye, my lord,” Nettle said.
“Snow,” he said, his hand releasing the grip he had on her arm to drift down and take hold of her hand. “Take time with your sister. We leave after the documents are signed.”
“Why?” she asked softly.
“Because I am your husband and you now have no recourse but to obey me,” he said, authority ringing in his every word.
Snow shook her head. “No, that’s not what I ask. Why did you marry me?”
“There’ll be time for us to talk later,” he snapped. “Go with your sister.”
Snow felt his hand fall away from hers.
“There is only one reason he would come here, stop the wedding, and claim you as he did,” Willow said, stepping around her and hooking her arm around Snow’s to lead her to a table. “The Lord of Fire loves you.”
Chapter 15
Snow sat silently in her husband’s arms on his horse.
Her husband.
It wasn’t that it was difficult to accept she was married. After all, she was to wed today. It was who she had married she found so difficult to grasp. Also, the reason why he married her, which Willow had insisted was because he loved her. That was simply impossible. She didn’t want to think on the many times he had told her he would never take her as a wife. So why had he?
He had not spoken up about being in your bed until he discovered you were to wed. There would be no other plausible reason for him to marry you unless he couldn’t stand the thought of another man having you.
Her sister had repeated that again and again and coming from Willow, a person who saw reason in most everything, it would make sense. But Willow hadn’t been privy to the various times Tarass had pointed out that he would not wed a blind woman. And there was that time in the cottage when he stopped himself from saying, though she had finished it for him, he wouldn’t poke a blind woman.
Did that mean he had no intention of sealing their vows? If that was so, then again she had to ask, “Why did you wed me?”
She hadn’t planned on speaking her thought aloud, but she was glad she did. She raised her head, hoping she looked him in the eye as she waited for his response.
“Why did you agree to wed Lord Polwarth?” he asked, failing to keep a biting anger out of his voice.
She thought to tell him that it didn’t concern him, but then she hoped if she answered him, he would in turn answer her.
“He was a friend of my da’s and offered me a chance of having what I’ve always wanted… a caring husband and family.”
Tarass was glad she couldn’t see him cringe with anger at the thought of Polwarth coupling with her. It sent a rage through him that made him want to beat the man.
“What about love? I thought you wanted a husband who loved you.”
Her soft laughter was filled with sorrow. “Who would love or even wed a blind woman? You certainly made it known you wouldn’t, so why did you wed me?”
“Did you even give your decision to marry Polwarth thought?”
She was wise to the way he ignored answering her question and she wondered why.
“Not at first,” she admitted honestly. “With my sisters wed and James and Eleanor planning their wedding, I suppose I felt a burden to them all. Lord Polwarth’s offer lifted that burden.”
Anger continued to stir in Tarass. She was far from a burden and he hated that she felt that way and that Polwarth had taken advantage of it. Or was he angry because if he had not arrived when he had, he would have lost Snow to Polwarth? And that thought made him feel like a knife had been thrust through his heart.
“Slatter reminded me just before the ceremony that if I changed my mind he would escort Lord Polwarth out and I cou
ld go live with them and be well-loved. That got me thinking.”
Tarass owed Slatter for that.
“I wasn’t sure if marrying Lord Polwarth was the right thing to do, until…”
“Until what?” Tarass asked.
Snow wasn’t about to tell him that it was finally admitting to herself she was in love with him that made her decide she couldn’t marry Polwarth.”
“Until it struck me that it wasn’t what I wanted,” she said, which was the truth.
“Why didn’t you speak up when I arrived.”
“Your arrival shocked me and by the time I could gather my senses, you sealed our fate. I either wed you or faced disgrace. Not that gossiping tongues won’t see me shamed.”
“I hear one person say anything against you and when I get done with him or her not another hurtful word will be spoken about you—ever.”
His threat sounded more like a promise.
Silence followed for several minutes.
“Why did you let Lord Polwarth think I could be carrying your bairn when you know that isn’t possible?”
“It will be soon enough.”
His response struck her silent. He did intend to seal their vows. The thought thrilled and frightened her.
“Lord Tarass,” came a shout as one of his warriors rode toward them. “Something you need to see.”
Tarass directed his horse to follow the warrior and after bringing the animal to a stop, he dismounted and lifted Snow off the horse.
“What goes on?” she asked, curious as he took her arm and she walked with him.
“I don’t know,” he said and stopped and lifted her hand to rest it against a tree. “You will stay here until I come for you.”
“I’ll go with you,” she said and reached out for him.
“No.” Tarass took her glove-covered hand and placed it back on the tree. “You’ll do as I say and stay here, and I won’t hear another word about it,” he warned when he saw her ready to argue. “You forget you are my wife now and that means you obey my every word.” He looked at the pup and ordered, “Thaw, guard Snow.”
Thaw barked and sat himself against Snow’s leg.
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