Chapter 11 #2
“I never hear you approach,” Heather said with a shake of her head.
“And you never will, so do not think to hide anything from me.”
“How did you learn to walk so that your footfalls were not heard?” she asked, taking his arm and leading him away from the keep and from her reason for being there.
“An exceptional warrior taught me the skill.” There were times her beauty caught him unaware, and this was one of those times.
Her blond hair glistened in the sunlight and her cheeks were tinged soft pink, her lips a deeper rose.
Had his harsh kiss still lingered there, staining her lips?
Her blue eyes sparkled with almost as much pleasantness as her smile.
“Will you teach me the skill?”
Rhys stopped. “If I did that, I would never hear you approach and already your steps are faint.” He bit his tongue for allowing the words to slip from his lips.
He had allowed her beauty to distract him just as he had allowed her words of love to anger him.
Too easily, she slipped past his defenses and that had to stop.
She laughed softly. “I believe my light steps were born out of necessity. I found myself treading lightly when my sisters were mere bairns and I had put them to nap or bed and did not want to wake them as I left the room. As they got older, I kept my steps light so I could sneak up on them and catch them doing things they should not have been doing. Other times it was so I could sneak off by myself for a few moments of peace and quiet. Not that it lasted very long. Patience learned how to track young and was forever finding me. Do you have siblings?”
“No,” he answered and wanted to bite his tongue again.
He did not want her to know anything about him and here he was answering her.
He grew more annoyed when he realized that he had gone in search of her to see that she was not upset over their recent encounter when truly it was because he favored her company.
She was stirring things to life in him that he had thought long since dead.
“You do have cousins, your uncle Ewan’s four sons.”
“I barely know them.”
“Then you have been gone from the area a long time. I suppose few would remember you.”
This time he wanted to rip his tongue from his mouth for letting her deduce something about him from his response. “You ask far too many questions and disobey far too often.”
She looked at him and soft laughter again preceded her words. “You are getting to know me well.”
He had to look away from her and suppress the smile that hurried to his mouth.
He rarely, if ever, smiled and it shocked him that a smile had come so easily.
Unlike others who trembled when he admonished them, she showed no fear, took no offense, and responded more often than not with a smile or gentle laughter that always managed to stir him in more ways than one.
“So, I should expect more disobedience from you?”
“Not intentionally,” Heather said.
“Perhaps a fitting punishment for your disobedience so far would have you think twice before disobeying me again.”
“Perhaps a reprieve since I am doing my best to find my footing and adapt to an unexpected marriage and a new home.”
“You negotiate with me?”
“I have done so before.”
He remembered it well, for she had agreed to come to their bed willingly if he allowed her to tend Douglas when they first arrived back at the keep.
He had yet to take advantage of the bargain they had struck, not that he was not most eager to, but in a way he was also reluctant.
She was so very innocent and kind, but would she be after he put his mark on her?
“I will see you wear, at supper tonight, the garment that waits for you in our bedchamber. Only then will I consider a reprieve.”
“Only consider, not grant me the reprieve?”
“You are lucky I even consider it.” Rhys turned his head just as Pitt came into view.
“Pardon, my lord, but possible wolf tracks have been spotted by one of our sentries,” Pitt said.
Rhys turned to Heather. “Our agreement has been struck. I will see you dressed appropriately tonight.” He reluctantly eased his arm away from her hand and walked over to Pitt, though called out as he did, “And you will also tell me what you found so interesting in the grass by the keep wall.”
Heather watched the two men walk away. Her husband was much too observant, but then so was she. There was something more to the wolf tracks that had been spotted and she wondered over it. She wished her husband trusted her enough to talk with her on all matters, though given time perhaps he would.
One problem at a time, first she wanted to prove to herself and others that the Dragon did not keep young lassies locked away in the upper floor room.
She hurried back to the spot where she had seen the trampled grass and noticed another spot where the grass had been trampled close to the keep.
She worked her way along the area and saw two more similar spots.
Was someone else also searching for an entrance to a secret room or had it been found, and someone left these spots to misdirect?
Heather stepped back. Who else could possibly be aware of the secret passage? Had Fane McComb revealed its existence to someone before he passed? Could Rhys possibly know its whereabouts?
“Excuse me, my lady.”
Heather turned to see Bea standing a few feet away from her. “Douglas?” she asked anxiously.
“It is probably nothing, but his wound appeared different to me when I went to change his bandage a short time ago. I hoped that you might have a moment to look at it.”
“Of course,” Heather said and went with Bea, leaving the mystery to solve for another time.
* * *
Supper was not far off when Heather returned to the keep. Bea’s worry was for naught; Douglas’s wound was healing nicely. She had taken the time to visit a few other wounded warriors to see how they were faring and was pleased that all except one were doing well.
Fife had suffered an arm wound that was not serious and looked to be healing well, though pain seemed to plague him enough that he could not hold his sword for long. He worried that he would not be able to continue to serve the Dragon.
Heather tried to reassure him that with time and rest he would be fine, but he was eager to return to duty and no amount of reassurance could soothe him and no amount of consolation would appease him.
She left him brooding over his situation.
She wished there was something she could do for him, but some men simply did not listen, and she would not be surprised if he returned to his duties before he was sufficiently healed and make matters worse for himself.
Heather hurried through the Great Hall surprised to see it dressed in such finery, a white linen tablecloth covering the long table on the dais with a silver nef placed in the middle holding several linen napkins.
Four pitchers lined the front of the table and four pitchers sat upon each of the trestle tables in the room.
It would be a fine feast that would be served this evening.
With quick steps, Heather climbed the stairs to her bedchamber.
She was pleased to see a fresh bucket of water waiting for her and when her eye caught the dress on the bed, she hurried over to it.
The dress was lovely, soft blue with threads of gold running along the low-cut neckline and crisscrossing in the middle and gracing the hem along the sleeves.
But what caught her attention more was the sapphire necklace that lay on top of the dress.
She had never seen anything like it. The single, large sapphire hung from an intricate silver chain and Heather was afraid to touch it.
She stared at it, the dark blue gem appearing to wink at her from the way the hearth’s light reflected off it. There was no denying that the necklace was lovely, but she much preferred the simplicity of the metal ring Quinn had made for her. It had been forged with love.
Gently, she lifted the necklace. It held no warmth, no love.
Once placed around the neck, it would feel more like a shackle than anything else.
With reluctance, Heather prepared to fulfill her end of the bargain she had made with her husband, not looking forward to the time the sapphire necklace went around her neck.