Chapter 2 #4
“Of course he hasnae. No one likes him. Och, I like him a little, and Cath as well, but a wench?” Tair sighed. “Mayhap she’s addled from a blow to the head.”
“Sorry, no. I talked to her for about an hour, and she’s entirely lucid and has no injuries.
I’m going back to talk some more after I get her a gown to wear.
” Lucy wrinkled her nose. “The chieftain is handsome enough, I guess. Well, the black lava eyes and sepulchral voice are still scary to me, but he and I get along fine now that I’m officially yours. ”
He grinned, happy to be reminded. “As I’m yours. Kiss me, Wife.”
Lucy whispered her soft lips over his, taking her time as she always did. That she kissed like a maiden but loved like a king’s paramour kept him enthralled by her sweetness and passion. Since the first time with her all she had to do was look at him to make him hard.
“Permit me bolt the door,” he said as she lifted her mouth and smiled at him. “Then I shall quench your every desire.”
Lucy jumped from his lap. “No more for you until tonight. I have to indoctrinate Dr. McIan, and you need to talk to Dorchad and find out what the bloody hell is happening with him. Later, my lover.” She waggled her long fingers at him, and then sauntered out of the chamber.
Tair considered chasing her down and dragging her off to their bed chamber, but doubtless with the new female on the island his wife would have much to occupy her.
He wanted to keep Lucy chained to his bed, as he had when she’d first arrived, but now that she’d wed him he had to treat her with love and a certain amount of respect.
And after the evening meal I’ll have all night to fack her as slow and deep as she likes.
He went in search of his second, but didn’t find Dorchad in the garrison hall or in his quarters.
After inquiring with the household guards he strode out of the stronghold and through the gates toward the south side of the island.
There on the shore he found his chieftain standing and staring out at the dark waters of the loch.
Tair could not recall once ever finding Dorchad in such an idle state, which tempted him to rouse him from his melancholy with a hard fist to the jaw. For Lucy’s sake he’d been trying not to brawl as often, as any manner of violence upset her, so he opted for another manner of attack.
“Shall I wrap you in my tartan and keep you warm while you fret, you sad old crone?” he demanded as he joined him.
Dorchad eyed him. “Try, you foul-tempered arse, and I shall rule the clan after I bathe in your blood.”
He nodded his approval. “What fashed you into such a state, then? That wee wench you dragged from the loch and kissed, or so someone lied?”
“’Twas truth. An impulse of the moment, naught more.” The chieftain looked back at the loch. “She’s a healer.”
Tair understood why he mentioned that. The elderly mortal that served as the clan’s healer only had to doctor their vassals, for the MacRune did not grow sick, and their wounds healed within hours.
The healer had grown increasingly frail over the last year, and voiced his intention to spend his final years among his kin as soon as a replacement could be found and made ready.
Inviting an outsider to live among the clan, however, could result in their secrets being exposed.
In that sense, Rebecca McIan might be the answer to many wishes.
“Advise our brothers and vassals no’ to attempt to drive her off the island, then.” He watched his second’s brow furrow before he asked, “Do you want her, or want her gone?”
“’Tisnae my say.” Dorchad sounded indifferent, but his stance grew rigid, as if he were fighting himself.
“When Lucy came to me, ’twas all I could do to keep from her,” Tair said. “She gave herself to me once, and then refused me after. I couldnae fathom the woman, nor could I cease wanting her. You ken what I did next, aye?”
His second made a disdainful sound. “You chained her to your bed every night.”
“Dinnae sneer at my solution. She woke in my arms every morning.” He smiled a little, remembering those days. “If you want the healer, keep her close. If she’s a distraction, I’ll send her off island and find another to tend the household.”
Dorchad didn’t say anything for a long moment, and then finally told him, “I dinnae need a woman, but our vassals need a healer. I shall keep my distance from her, and you may persuade her to stay or go as she pleases.” He nodded in the direction of the opposite shore.
“If she doesnae wish to serve us, we may send her to live among the villagers.”
Tair nodded. “So shall I do, then. Who do you reckon wished for such a female?”
“’Tis but one man among the clan who’s swived more mortal females than any other, as if facking might cure some ill of his,” the chieftain said. “’Tis likely from the long years he spent living in the dark Fae kingdom in Elphyne.”
He couldn’t imagine his war master desiring such a small, frail-looking female, but then little about his older brother made sense. “Agreed. I’ll talk to Cath.”