Chapter 9
The villagers made their feelings known for Lady Heather as they filed past the Dragon after the burial ceremony.
“It is a fine thing Lady Heather does, giving her help to the living while the dead are buried.”
“Lady Heather is a selfless woman.”
“God bless, Lady Heather.”
“She heals the sick and comforts the dying.”
“Lady Heather has a healing touch.”
One day, and his wife had won the villagers’ hearts, would he ever win hers?
Rhys stood glancing down at the fresh graves long after the ceremony was over, and the villagers had dispersed. He had much on his mind, mostly why his wife had thought she needed to save the Dragon from himself.
He was not sure what she had been alluding to and that troubled him even more. He harbored secrets he did not want anyone to ever uncover, since the knowledge could cost them their lives. And he would not lose his wife when he had just found her.
He recognized the footfalls that approached. They were light and slow, as if unsure as whether to approach him or not. He turned and stretched his hand out to his wife.
Heather hurried to take it. “Douglas is well, the fever broke. I came to pay my respects to the fallen warriors and to thank you for letting me stay and tend Douglas. I am pleased to have such a thoughtful husband.”
Thoughtful? He was far from thoughtful and how could she ever be pleased to have him as a husband? He was not what she thought him to be and yet he felt a spark to his heart, a small sliver of something he had thought he would never feel again. Had his wife actually penetrated his icy heart?
Heather took his hand and stepped close, resting her tired body against his, wrapping her arm around his waist, and laying her head against his chest. She smiled when she felt his arms circle her and hold her tight.
And she could not help but think that embraced in his arms like this made her feel as if she had finally come home.
A strange feeling while being held by the Dragon, but one she could not ignore.
“I am glad Douglas does well. He is a fine warrior.”
“And will make a fine da,” Heather said, thinking what a comfortable pillow her husband’s chest made. She smiled to herself. In just a day’s time, she found the Dragon’s chest more to her liking than she would have ever imagined possible.
Rhys cherished this moment with his wife. The comfort of their embrace had joined them more deeply than coupling ever could. They clung to each other as if neither wished to let go, as if they had just found each other and would never, ever part.
“My lord.”
Rhys and Heather turned reluctantly, both wishing the moment was theirs alone yet to savor.
“I am sorry to disturb you, my lord,” Pitt said, “but there is news of Greer McLaud.”
Rhys nodded and looked at his wife, as he made ready to step away from her.
Heather grabbed his arm and moved closer to him, making it clear she intended to remain by his side. “You cannot mean to order me away when this news concerns my family.”
“Considering what your curiosity had you doing in regard to the fallen warriors, I can only assume what it would have you do where your family is concerned. So, I will allow you to hear the news, but I will have your word that you will not let your inquisitive nature interfere,” Rhys said.
“I may be curious, but I am not foolish,” Heather said.
“Curiosity and foolishness often go hand in hand.” He turned to Pitt, letting his wife savor his words and pay heed to them. “What of Greer McLaud?”
“Greer has received word of his wife’s death and is on his way to Macinnes keep with a sizeable troop.”
“His land is a distance away to learn the news so fast. Something is not right,” Heather said.
“And Hew McDolan?” Rhys asked.
“It will not be long before he and his warriors arrive at Macinnes keep,” Pitt said. “And Rab McLaud rides with him.”
“He is coming for his wife Saundra,” Heather said worry wrinkling her brow.
“And your family will have no choice but to return her to her husband,” Pitt was quick to advise.
Heather squeezed her husband’s arm. “We must do something. Rab means to see his wife dead. Something I doubt Hew McDolan knows. Perhaps there is another place where Saundra could hide?”
“If McLaud has eyes on the keep, it will not matter,” Rhys said. “McDolan is no fool. He probably sent someone ahead to see what he could find out.”
“That is good.” Heather said. “Then he will learn of our union and know he will face more than just the Clan Macinnes.”
“Our union has no bearing on this matter,” Rhys said. “A wife cannot be kept from her husband. Saundra will have no choice but to return to her husband.”
“How do we simply hand her over to a man who means to kill her?” Heather argued her concern growing and not only for Saundra. “Patience will never agree to return Saundra to her husband.”
“That refusal coupled with Greer’s wife being found dead on Macinnes land will surely start a war,” Pitt said.
“Send two trackers out and see what they can find out,” Rhys ordered.
Pitt appeared ready to speak, but hesitated.
“I will have a few moments alone with Pitt,” Rhys said to his wife. “And do not bother to argue. I have been more than generous in granting your numerous requests.”
She could not argue when he was right. She bobbed her head and stepped far enough away where she could not hear their conversation, though she wished she could.
Pitt no doubt spoke to Rhys about their current enemy, a mysterious foe with far too many similarities to the ghost warriors. It made her more than curious.
Rhys approached her as Pitt went off to do his bidding.
His expression was stern, and Heather could tell his thoughts were heavy and rightfully so.
Heather took hold of his arm, an instinctive action, she gave no thought to, but Rhys did. Any fear she had of him was rapidly dwindling and he wondered why. Was she simply accepting her fate and forcing herself to tolerate him or was she truly at ease with him?
“Do you often wear peasant garments,” Rhys asked as they walked toward the village.
Heather took no offense to his remark, turning a smile on him. “Tending to the ill, seeing to the running of a keep, and tending a garden are all best served in peasant garments.”
“My home has two healers and servants tend the gardens. Peasant garments will not be necessary for the running of the keep. I will see that you have fine garments to wear.”
Heather chuckled softly. “Fine garments will not keep me out of the garden or lending a hand to the healers. Besides, these garments suit me better than any other.”
“They do not suit me and it appears that you need constant reminding that my word is law.”
Heather stopped walking, forcing Rhys to do the same.
“I was frightened enough when I was abducted, and you cannot imagine how my fear escalated when I found out that the infamous Dark Dragon had ordered my abduction. My fear soared beyond reason when my father told me he had given me in marriage to you. And when I met you for the first time and had to take my leave with you, I thought my legs would fail me.”
“I well remember, since I all but carried you from your keep.”
“In barely two days’ time, and to my utter surprise, I find fear has been replaced, somewhat, with curiosity. The Dragon may spit fire on occasion, but his nature is not evil as most believe.”
Rhys brought his face close to hers. “Do you not know that evil lies hidden until ready to strike?”
Heather rested her hand to his chest. “I do not believe evil resides in you.”
Rhys placed his hand over hers. “Trust me, wife, when I tell you that evil is there and warn you to be wary that one day it does not strike at you.”
Heather smiled and tugged him along as she started walking again. “Evil cannot touch a faithful soul, so I have no worry.”
This time Rhys stopped, though abruptly and yanked her up against. “Evil can take the most faithful soul and rip it apart before it destroys it completely. No amount of faith can survive against pure evil.”
Heather felt a tug in her heart. She did not know when or how it had happened, but Rhys had obviously suffered at the hands of someone vile. She wished that she could somehow ease his pain of the memories that no doubt haunted him. So, she did what instinct urged her to do—she kissed him.
Her kiss felt like a rope being tossed to a drowning man. Only it was not the sea, she was rescuing him from, but the horrendous darkness that forever consumed him. And he could not stop himself from holding on tight and not letting go.
Her lips were strong, demanding, and full of passion, but then Heather had a passion like no other. She had a passion for everything, and it was contagious, drawing you in, making you want to smile even when you had no reason to, and making you believe she could save you from the devil himself.
Rhys felt the grip to his heart, the kick to his gut and he reached up, grabbed the hair at the back of her head and yanked her head back, reluctantly breaking the kiss. “Are you ready to sink into the darkness with me?”
She winced from the pain of his grip and once again rested her hand against his chest. “Are you ready for me to pull you from the dark?”
“You haven’t the strength,” he said, wishing differently.
“Perhaps, but I can try.”
“And if you fail?”
“Then the Dragon will not be alone in the darkness anymore.”
Rhys brought his mouth down on hers and kissed her with a fierceness that ran a shiver of fear through her. She could taste his ferocious hunger and she worried it could never be satisfied.
He tore his mouth away from hers. “You quake in my arms from a mere kiss. What will you do when I plant myself inside you and ride you endlessly?”
The thought frightened and excited her at the same time and she wondered if she was already slipping into the darkness with him. “I do not know, for I have never lain with a man.”