Highlander Lord of Fire

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Highlander Lord of Fire Page 14

by Donna Fletcher


  “There is nothing to fear, my warriors keep watch over you. I will return soon,” he said and went to walk off.

  “Where is Nettle?” Snow asked, the young woman would at least detail what was going on around her.

  “She was sent ahead with your belongings to ready everything for you,” Tarass said. “I won’t be long, and don’t dare move away from that tree.”

  Snow wasn’t fearful, not with the swarm of warriors around her and Tarass himself. She was more curious of what was happening. What was it that Tarass needed to see for himself? After a few minutes, her impatience got the best of her. Thaw’s did too, since he’d moved away from her leg to sniff around, which meant he was bored with sitting.

  “Shall we go find Tarass, Thaw?” she asked in a playful tone she often used when asking if he wanted to go for a walk.

  Thaw barked in agreement.

  “Find Tarass,” she said and Thaw barked, then took the hem of her shift in his mouth and led the way.

  Tarass stared at the pool of blood in the snow, the light snowflakes vanishing as soon they touched the blood.

  “It’s odd, my lord,” the young warrior said, his eyes also fixed on the blood.

  “Aye, Dolan, it is,” Tarass agreed.

  “That much blood in one spot and not a trace of it anywhere else. No drag marks. Nothing. It makes one wonder if the blood rose up through the soil, but that would make no sense.” Dolan shook his head. “Not a good omen, my lord.”

  “What’s not a good omen?” Snow asked as she approached Tarass.

  “What are you doing here?” he demanded, turning around. “I told you to stay by the tree.”

  “I got curious,” she admitted.

  “So you disobeyed me.”

  “Forgive me, my lord, but we’ve been married only a couple of hours, so I’m not used to being a dutiful wife yet,” she said with a soft smile and dramatically pressed her hand to her chest as if it was a heartfelt apology.

  Tarass leaned his face down near hers. “I’d watch that flippant tongue of yours, wife.”

  “My tongue often has a mind of its own.”

  “Then control it or else.” He hurried his finger to her lips to stop her from speaking. “And don’t ask me or else what. You don’t want to know.” His cheek brushed hers as he lifted his head and though he didn’t show it, the touch of her smooth cold cheek sent a warm shiver through him that stirred his loins. Damn, but he had missed her.

  “The omen?” she asked and though she couldn’t see Tarass, she sensed he shook his head.

  “Nothing for you to worry about,” Tarass said and caught Thaw inching closer to the pool of blood. “Get away from that, Thaw!”

  “Away from what?” Snow asked about to step forward.

  Tarass turned once again to keep her from moving and his eyes shot wide. He barely had enough time to shove her out of the way of the arrow sailing directly at her.

  “Attack!” Dolan shouted and the warriors rushed to draw their weapons ready to fight.

  Tarass stood with his weapon drawn as well, his back to his wife, ready to keep her safe.

  The warriors stood perplexed when no other arrows rained down on them or warriors charged them.

  A frantic bark from Thaw had Tarass turning to see that his wife had landed face first in the pool of blood and was struggling to get out of it. He rushed to her side and slipped his hands under her arms to lift her out and plant her feet on a clean patch of snow.

  Snow spit and wiped at her face with her glove-covered hands. “What did I fall in?”

  “Blood,” Dolan said, his eyes so wide they looked as if they’d burst from his head.

  “Blood?” Snow asked, though she had heard him clearly. “Whose blood?” She went to wipe at her mouth again, the thought of being soaked in blood turning her stomach.

  Tarass grabbed her wrist. “Don’t. You’ll only spread it around your face. I’ll see to it.” He turned to Dolan. “Bring me a cloth and a blanket.”

  “Thaw? He isn’t covered with blood, is he?” she asked worried for the pup.

  “His paws. They’ll clean off fast enough in the snow when he follows us,” Tarass said and kept hold of her wrist as he guided her to a cropping of stones and helped her to sit on one.

  He was annoyed with himself for not thinking of the pool of blood when he had shoved her out of the way of the arrow. But there had been such little time and his worry had been that more arrows would follow.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  Tarass scooped up a handful of snow. “I’m going to clean your face with snow.”

  “Aye, that would work good, though I fear my garments are ruined. Blood is never easily removed from clothing,” she said, fighting to keep the quiver out of her voice.

  She wanted to remain calm but the image of herself, in her mind, covered in blood wasn’t helping. And whose blood was it? A slaughtered animal? A murdered human? Not knowing made things worse.

  “You’ll not wear these garments again,” he ordered and began to scrub her face with the snow.

  His touch was gentle, but she had known it would be since he had been gentle with her when he had tended her wounds in the cottage. She was glad he took extra care cleaning around her mouth and her eyes, though she wondered if the bitter taste would linger in her mouth. He was thorough, cleaning her face with handful after handful of snow.

  “There is nothing I can do with your garments except cover them. I’ll wrap you in a blanket when I’m done and you’ll wear my cloak the rest of the way,” he ordered.

  “You’ll be cold,” she said, thinking of the snow falling on him.

  “We’re not far from home,” he said as if somehow that made a difference.

  “Tuck me close against you once we’re on the horse and wrap your cloak around us both, then we’ll both stay warm,” she suggested.

  “Lift your chin,” he snapped, annoyed that she thought of his well-being when he had completely forgotten about the pool of blood when he had shoved her out of the way of the arrow.

  He scrubbed her neck, pushing the snow high up along the nape of her neck into her hair. He wanted to rid her of every speck of blood, but only a soak in the tub would do that.

  “Please tell me what happened,” Snow said. “Unable to see and not know what goes on around me can leave me fearful at times, something I don’t like to admit.”

  That he had ignored her when she had first asked him what happened and not considered how it must feel to be left in the dark to your surroundings made him realize just how brave she had to be to live as she did, seeing nothing but shadows.

  Tarass took hold of her hands and began slipping off the blood-soaked gloves. “I shoved you out of the way to avoid the arrow that was coming straight at you.”

  She shivered at the image it painted for her and at the cold snow he rubbed over her hands.

  “We were attacked?” she asked, trying to make sense of it.

  “That’s the strange part. Only one arrow flew at us, then nothing,” Tarass said.

  “That’s not the only strange part. There is the unexplained pool of blood and while I by no means enjoyed landing in it, it was a better alternative to what an arrow would have done to me. I would not want to die on my wedding day.”

  The thought of her dying filled him with a dread that turned to rage.

  “You will not die!” he said as if commanding it so.

  Snow chuckled and took hold of his hand as he cleaned hers. “Someday I will, but not today thanks to you.”

  How could this petite woman arouse him with a simple touch and thoughtful words?

  “Don’t make me regret it,” he snapped, annoyed at himself, and she laughed, her whole face lighting with glee and his arousal grew. And he grew more annoyed.

  “I fear you just might,” she teased with a smiling laugh.

  He smiled in spite of his frustration and knew a day would never come that he would regret marrying her.

  A
sudden shiver trembled her whole body.

  “I need to get you home,” he said, having lingered too long in the cold instead of rushing to clean her up and be on their way.

  He snatched the cloth, Dolan had brought him, off his knee and hurried to dry the areas he had washed with snow. When he was done, he helped her to her feet, discarding her bloody cloak and wrapped the blanket around her, covering as much of her bloody garments that he could.

  “Thaw?” she asked and the pup jumped up, his paws at her leg.

  “He’s been busy sniffing and rolling around in the snow. He’s all cleaned off,” Tarass said. “He will sit on your lap and keep you warm for the rest of the way home.”

  They were soon on their way, Thaw snuggled in her lap, another blanket wrapped around her and Tarass sharing his fur-lined cloak with them as Snow had suggested. They were snug and warm all three of them.

  Snow smiled, her head resting against her husband’s chest, thinking how Tarass and Thaw were her family now and soon…

  A flutter caught at her heart. How could she be joyful and at the same time anxious of coupling with her husband?

  She told herself not to worry. Sorrell and Willow had no difficulty with it, but then their husbands loved them. Then there was her blindness. Would either make a difference? She didn’t know, but she would find out tonight.

  Chapter 16

  Snow sat in the cloth lined tub, the water beginning to lose its warmth, though she cared not that it did. Nettle had assured her that she had scrubbed her body clean, that there was not a spot of blood on her.

  Tarass had ordered a bath prepared for her in his bedchamber as soon as they had entered the Great Hall. She might not have been able to see the faces of those in the hall when Tarass yanked the blanket from around her revealing her blood-soaked garments, but Nettle had expressed what many must of thought.

  “Good Lord, so much blood and you’re still standing?”

  “Silence, Nettle!” Tarass had commanded. “Lady Snow is unharmed.”

  Once they had reached his bedchamber, he had ordered Nettle to wash Snow down before she got in the tub. He made it abundantly clear that not an ounce of blood was to touch her bath water. Then he was gone and Snow hadn’t seen him since.

  That was perfectly fine with her, since she would have never been able to relax and enjoy the warm bath if he was present.

  “A pool of blood,” Nettle said, shaking her head as she busily gathered the soiled cloths she had used to wash Snow. “I still cannot believe it. No one can. And where did the blood come from?” She continued to shake her head perplexed.

  Thanks to Nettle’s propensity for chatter and detail, she found out more about the incident with the pool of blood than Snow had known. Snow had been amazed to learn that the pool of blood had appeared to sit there like a tiny lake in the middle of the pristine snow, not a sign of anyone or thing being dragged off. All wondered how that could be, and worried it was an evil omen, indeed. And where had the single arrow come from? No one had been caught thus far and with the snowfall growing heavy it was unlikely clear tracks could be found.

  It was a mystery, one that made no sense.

  Nettle added a bucket of hot water to Snow’s bath and kept her voice low as she spoke. “Whispers circulate, not that I believe them, that death stalks you. The man Finn, the other body found in the snow, unknown to everyone, and now a single arrow that many believe…”

  “What do they believe, Nettle?” Snow asked when the young woman’s words had drifted off, a strange occurrence for Nettle. When no answer was forthcoming, Snow urged, “Please, Nettle, I need to know.”

  Nettle kept her voice to a whisper. “They believe you bring death with you and that the arrow was meant for Lord Tarass.”

  A bad omen indeed.

  Is that what Tarass’s clan thought of her… a bad omen?

  “I count on you to not only be my eyes but my ears as well, Nettle. Please keep me informed about all you see and hear,” Snow said, suddenly feeling vulnerable in her new home.

  “Aye, my lady, I’ll keep close watch of all that goes on,” Nettle promised.

  Snow rested her head back on the rim of the round tub, the heated water soaking into her, soothing and relaxing her limbs. She wasn’t surprised when her eyes grew heavy, having gotten no sleep at all last night.

  “My lady,” Nettle said softly.

  Snow’s eyes fluttered open.

  “The bed would be much better for a nap than the tub.”

  Snow nodded and let Nettle help her out of the tub and dry her off.

  “Oh, I forgot your nightdress and robe,” Nettle said, flustered she had forgotten it. “Wait under the bedcovers so you stay warm while I run and fetch it.”

  Snow sunk into the warmth of the bed, the soft wool blankets adding more warmth. Her eyes closed and sleep claimed her as soon as her head touched the pillow.

  When the door shut behind Nettle, Thaw stretched himself out of the ball he had curled in before the hearth and went to the bed and jumped up on it to curl against Snow’s side and fell asleep once again.

  Nettle stood by the side of the bed, nightdress in hand, staring at Snow sleeping peacefully. It was her task to look after Lady Snow and that meant making sure she was dressed properly. She was not dressed properly for a nap or bedtime. She needed her nightdress, but she looked so peaceful Nettle hated to disturb her.

  “Something wrong, Nettle, that you stand there staring at my wife,” Tarass asked from the open door.

  Nettle jumped and turned, not having heard the door open. “Forgive me, my lord. I forgot Lady Snow’s nightdress and went to fetch it only to find her asleep when I returned. My lady was so tired she was falling asleep in the tub and she looks so content now, I hate to wake her.”

  “Don’t,” Tarass ordered, “leave the nightdress and see that a bath is prepared for me in the guest bedchamber.”

  “Aye, my lord,” Nettle said and hurried from the room to see it done.

  Tarass went to the bed and looked down at his sleeping wife. A soft blush stained her cheeks and her lips were parted ever so slightly as she breathed softly. Her red hair was still damp, a strand clinging to the side of her face. He reached down to move it and Thaw’s head popped up and he gave a small growl

  “Quiet, you’ll wake her,” Tarass ordered in a commanding whisper. “And don’t think you’ll be sleeping in bed with us. It’s the floor for you.”

  A low grumbling growl came from Thaw, then he laid his head down and closed his eyes, staying right where he was.

  Tarass didn’t chase him off the bed, not this time since he was keeping Snow warm. It had been a difficult day for her and it was good she rested. And good that she was naked in his bed.

  He continued to experience bouts of dread when he thought about how close he had come to losing her today, not once but twice. First in marriage to another man, then by an arrow. Though now, some of his warriors were speculating that the arrow could have been meant for him. He would think that himself if he was getting closer to finding out who had his parents killed. But he hadn’t. It was as if a door had suddenly been slammed shut in his face when it came to finding out anything more about the attack on the Sandrik village where his parents had been brutally killed.

  He had hoped to find out something about the dead man, that Snow had accidentally found when she tripped over him, while on his visit to his mum’s people. But her people hadn’t told him anything he hadn’t already known. The one thing he had discovered, to his frustration, on the unplanned trip was that he had missed Snow.

  It had made no sense to him and he had denied it for as long as he could, until he admitted that something was amiss when it came to her. He decided he had to return home and see Snow again, if only to put this aching unease and foolishness to rest.

  The rage that had ripped through him upon discovering Snow was to wed that day made him want to beat someone senseless. Actually, he had wanted to beat the man who had the audaci
ty to lay claim to her when she belonged to him.

  Looking at her now in his bed, safe and sleeping peacefully, filled him with overwhelming relief. She was his wife. No one could take her from him, not now, not ever.

  Snow woke slowly, content in the warmth that she was wrapped in. She lay there in the quiet enjoying it. When she finally opened her eyes, it was dark, no shadows danced around her and when she went to move she realized something—no, not something—someone was wrapped around her.

  Panic took hold and she couldn’t think straight. How had someone gotten into her room? In her bed? And where was Thaw? Fear sent her into flight.

  “Thaw!” she screamed and scrambled out of bed almost falling to the floor, but righting herself and hurrying away, then bumping into something, turning, and trying to feel her way in the dark.

  Something was wrong. She knew her way around her room. She hit something again and realized Thaw was barking furiously.

  “Snow! It’s Tarass. You’re safe here in our bedchamber,” he said and rested his hand gently on her shoulder. She slumped against him in relief, recalling where she was and that she was his wife.

  “I forgot,” she said with a sigh and his arms wrapped around her and he eased her against him. She jumped out of his arms with a slight shove. “Good Lord, we’re both naked.”

  Tarass couldn’t keep the chuckle out of his voice. “That we are and we’re allowed to be since we’re husband and wife.” He thought reminding her again might temper her concern.

  “I need my nightdress,” she said, trying to cover what she could of herself with her arms.

  “I prefer you naked,” Tarass said, gently brushing her arms off her breasts and stomach. “You have the most beautiful body and I enjoy looking at it. And if you recall, this isn’t the first time I have seen you naked.”

  That reminded Snow of something, and she had to ask, “Why did you marry me?”

  “You’ll catch a chill. Come to bed and I’ll keep you warm,” he said and slipped his arm around her.

  Snow stepped away, his arm falling off her, and asked again, “Why did you marry me?”

 

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