Return of the Rogue (12 page)

“She’s crying,” the man said, clearly upset.

Honora felt a tender touch on her cheek where the tear had traveled, and then a warm yet strong hand took hold of hers.

“I am here, Honora, I will let nothing happen to you. I will keep you safe always.”

He squeezed her hand and kissed her cheek, kissing away her tear, and she shivered from his tenderness. She wanted to say something to him, to tell him how she felt, that she would be there for him as well. She would let nothing happen to him. She would keep him safe, and not out of duty but because he was a good man, a good husband. She would do it because she cared.

She wanted to tell him she cared for him and that one day perhaps soon she might discover she loved him. But her eyes were too heavy to open, she was unable to speak, she could barely move her lips, and the next thing she knew it turned dark and there was nothing.

C
avan watched his wife run around the moor with Champion nipping at her heels. Her cheeks were stung red from the cold wind that swept across the land since early morning and her long dark hair whipped around her smiling face. She looked so very happy and it brought joy to his heart.

He had been worried about her when she’d taken ill and insisted she remain abed a full day even though she claimed she was feeling fine. This morning he’d caught her before she could sneak past where he slept on the floor before the hearth. He didn’t intend to let her go off on her own until he knew that she was fully recovered.

After they both ate a full breakfast, she had told him she was ready to resume her lessons, but he suggested a walk on the moor. She wanted to let Champion tag along. He intended that she rest for a day or two more, though Honora disagreed. Naturally, he got his way. Lessons wouldn’t continue until tomorrow.

His own stomach wrenched when he recalled
how she called out to him in distress. He had been so enraged with his brother that his first thought was to dismiss her, but when he saw her clutching her stomach and watched her collapse to the ground, it felt as if his heart had stopped beating. It was even worse, though, when he wiped the tear off her cheek. He didn’t know what caused her to cry, which disturbed him more than anything. Had she been in pain or was she unhappy being his wife? Did she fear him? Hate him? Not trust him? Did she feel alone even while surrounded by her new family?

Honora looked happy enough now, though she’d been quiet that morning while they ate and he’d wondered if she still didn’t feel well, though her appetite was ravenous. At times they could converse so easily, as if they were old friends, and other times…

He shook his head. He didn’t know what to make of his wife and wanted to learn more about her.

She stumbled toward him, Champion tripping her. Cavan caught her and was stunned when she kissed his cheek and laughed softly.

“That’s twice you’ve saved me now,” she said, holding onto his arms. “You truly are a hero.”

He let her go and stepped away. “I’m no hero.”

“You’re my hero,” she insisted, and Champion gave a yap, too young to produce a full-fledged bark. “The pup agrees.”

He was no hero and he didn’t want to be thought one. Heroes were remarkable men who performed remarkable feats. He had no such feats to his credit.

He was surprised when she took his arm and tugged him along until their steps evolved into a casual stroll, Champion happily bouncing along beside them.

“What else do you intend to teach me?” she asked.

He smiled. He couldn’t help himself. She looked so lovely, with rosy red cheeks and her dark hair blowing wildly around her face, and she was smiling, and had been from her first step on the moor. She was a carefree lass, more herself there than anywhere else. But then, it had been her place to escape to, a place where she could be herself, let her guard down, feel safe as she did now.

She felt safe with him?

The thought jarred his heart, and he almost shook his head denying the notion. It was pure nonsense and he was a fool for even giving it thought. What did it matter if she felt safe with him or not? She was his wife and that was that.

Then why had the thought that she trusted him enough to feel safe with him nudge at his heart?

“You do intend to teach me more, don’t you?” she asked hopefully.

He leaned closer to her. “What do you want to learn?”

“You mentioned riding, and I’d like to become proficient with weapons.”

He coughed a laugh. “Weapons?”

She nodded vigorously.

“Any weapon in particular?”

“A dirk and perhaps a bow and arrow. I don’t know about a sword.”

Cavan laughed aloud. “And here I thought I had wed a mousy woman with not an ounce of courage. You do surprise me.”

“I surprise myself,” she admitted with a bit of reluctance. “You have shown me I am capable of more than I believed and I am grateful to you for that, and I look forward to learning more.”

“Careful, I may teach you more than you want to know.”

She shook her head. “I have tasted knowledge and wish to learn more, everything I can.”

“Everything? That requires a very long time.”

“We are husband and wife,” she said. “We have our entire lives together.”

It sounded as if she looked forward to a life with him, and he suddenly grew disturbed and walked a few feet away from her. He rubbed his chin, staring over the empty moor spreading out before him, and settled his glance on the keep resting high on the hill in the distance. He could not allow his wife, an actual stranger to him, to interfere with his plans. First and foremost he had to find his brother Ronan. He could not live, laugh, and enjoy life to the fullest until Ronan was safe. It was his duty, and he would not rest until he had seen it done.

“We should return,” he said, swerving around to face her.

She was busy bouncing around happily with the yapping little pup, paying him no heed. He almost gave a second thought to depriving her of her joy, but then the image of his brother reaching out to him
with fear in his eyes assaulted him and he walked over to Honora and grabbed her arm.

“Time to go,” he said, dragging her along with him while the pup nipped at his heels.

“Is something wrong?” she asked, her steps finally matching his.

“There are things I need to attend to.”

“I thought we might spend more time together.”

“Tomorrow we will resume your lessons,” he said, and scooped up the pup, shoving him into her arms. “Take him to our bedchamber and rest.”

“I don’t want to rest.”

“Regardless, you will,” he said sternly.

They didn’t exchange another word on the remainder of their walk, and then, after ordering her once again to their bedchamber, Cavan left her side in search of his father.

Honora didn’t understand what had happened. They were having a good time together, talking and playing with the pup. They had seemed a pair, two people who cared for each other. Especially after yesterday when he’d gotten so upset over her taking ill and remained with her even when his mother urged him to leave the care to her. And it hadn’t been duty that held him there; it was something else, something she saw in his eyes and had seen on other occasions. It was that something that had made her regard him in a different light.

His own words had confirmed what she was beginning to realize—that her husband was a man with a good heart, who cared deeply for those he
loved and would do anything for them, even giving his own life to save them.

Honora wandered over to the fireplace in the great hall. Champion curled up at her feet and was asleep in seconds. She poured herself a tankard of warm cider from the pitcher on the table and settled in with her thoughts.

Cavan believed himself responsible for everyone, and as future laird she supposed in a sense that was true. But his brothers had been trained for battle too, and all warriors accepted the possibility of capture or death when in combat. She recalled tales of Cavan’s courage and his many victories, and she’d heard the gossip that the barbarians only captured him because he remained behind in search of his brother while ordering the others to retreat.

The only one who blamed Cavan for Ronan’s capture was Cavan.

She wanted to help her husband; after all, she was stuck with him. She was his wife for the rest of their lives, and because he was a good man, she knew that somehow they could have a good marriage. He had made it known he wanted children, and children entailed intimacy.

Honora sipped at the cider. She would need to make certain they spent more time together. It was good that he was giving her lessons in protecting herself, and she would make sure that they shared meals together and took walks and talked. They needed to truly be husband and wife.

She couldn’t have said as much yesterday. Her thinking had changed, and not just because of Ca
van’s actions. Addie’s remark had made an impression on her too. If Cavan’s mother could detect a caring between them, then perhaps there really was a chance for them to have a loving marriage and not just an arranged one. That it was even a thought, a possibility, amazed her. She never imagined that she might care for Cavan. He had been rude and abrupt when they first met.

A giggle tickled her throat. She was young then. He had saved her, so in truth it wasn’t twice he’d saved her but three times. Next time she would need to make certain that she saved herself, if only to show him that he’d taught her well, for since that day on the moors she had been careful where her steps took her.

“Are you feeling well?”

Honora looked up to see Addie holding a plate of honey cakes. She licked her lips. “Even if I wasn’t I wouldn’t turn down a honey cake.”

“A daughter after my own heart,” Addie said, placed the plate on the table and took a seat on the bench opposite her.

Addie had made her feel welcome from the first moment she was introduced to her. Addie had referred to her as her daughter, even before the wedding. She’d accepted her unconditionally, and Honora was grateful to once again have a loving mother.

“I thought to find Cavan with you,” Addie said. “I saw that you headed out for the moors and thought to welcome you both back with a treat.”

“Cavan searches for his father.”

Addie frowned. “Is something wrong?”

Honora shrugged. “I don’t believe so. We were having a joyous time when he suddenly insisted we return to the keep, where he went in search of his father.”

Addie shook her head. “My son shoulders more responsibilities than is necessary.”

“And blames himself needlessly.”

Addie sighed with relief. “You understand.”

“I believe I am beginning to. At first—”

“You thought you were stuck with a terrible husband.”

“I—I—”

Addie laughed and patted her hand. “It’s all right, dear, Cavan wasn’t pleasant to you upon his return.”

“He did have good reason, returning to find himself married to a woman he had once rejected.”

“You defend him, that is good,” Addie said with a smile. “A husband needs a wife who will stand by him.”

A crash and loud, angry voices made both women jump to their feet, and the pup shook the sleep out of him and now looked alert.

The squabbling grew until it spilled into the great hall.

“If you do not have the courage to do it, I will,” Cavan shouted at his father, who preceded him into the room.

Tavish Sinclare stopped abruptly and swerved to face his son. “How dare you disrespect me? I am the leader of this clan and you will show me the respect I not only deserve, but earned.”

“Then prove it and allow me to take an army of warriors and attack the barbarians.”

“No. I will not send my warriors on a senseless mission,” Tavish argued.

“Is it senseless to rescue your son?” Cavan challenged.

Honora almost gasped. Addie did. Cavan had no right speaking to his father that way.

“Pride loses battles. Remember that when you become laird or you will jeopardize the safety of the clan and our lands. As for my son? Either I will find him or he will return home, for he is a warrior like his brother and will do the clan proud.”

Tavish turned his back on his son and walked out of the keep. Addie followed him.

Cavan angrily descended on Honora. “I ordered you to rest.”

The pup yapped at his irate approach.

“Quiet!” Cavan snapped harshly.

The pup ran for cover under Honora’s skirt, but got in one last yap.

“Do not take your temper out on my friend,” Honora said sharply.

“Then I will take it out on you. You were ordered to rest—”

“I am not tired.”

“That makes no difference.”

“It does to me,” she said.

Cavan grabbed a tankard off the table and slammed it down hard, cider spilling over the sides. “You will do as I say or else.”

“Or else what?” she asked bravely.

He stared at her, speechless.

Her heart beating wildly, Honora scooped up the pup, tossed her chin up, and stepped around her irate husband. “I have things to do,” she said and walked away. She wanted to hurry her steps, to retreat from her husband as fast as she could, but kept her steps steady, knowing it would do her no good to show fear. If there was one thing Cavan had taught her, it was not to panic and allow your foe to sense your fear.

Honora paraded out of the great hall with a confidence she did not possess, but rather with legs that trembled so badly she thought surely she would crumble to the floor before she reached the door. When she did reach the door, she grabbed hold of the thick wood and steadied herself, took a breath and whispered to Champion, “We made it.”

“Honora!”

She didn’t bother to turn and respond to her husband’s shout, but quickly vacated the hall and hurried as far from the keep as her wobbling legs would carry her.

She wound up behind the stable, tucked between two barrels. She wrapped her cloak around herself and the pup, grateful that she’d had enough sense to grab it as she left the hall. The pup settled contentedly in the niche her raised legs provided and took the opportunity to clean his paws.

But Honora remained alert, concerned that her husband would come in search of her and…

Or else.

The two little words stayed with her, and try as she might, she could not shed them. She wondered what he would do now that she’d refused to obey him. And what of her stepfather? Would he dare to confront her over her callous disregard for her husband?

It mattered little at the moment for the deed had been done. She had taken a stand and now must face the consequences. Addie had only just praised her about standing beside her husband. It proved to be short-lived praise. She had openly defied Cavan, and tongues were sure to spread the news.

Had she been mistaken? Had she been too hasty? Too angry?

This wifely duty was much too new to her, and particularly with Cavan. In contrast, she had been comfortable with Artair, mainly because he was honest with her.