Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 102573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
“You cannot even stay on your feet,” he reprimanded.
His words not only hurt but they also angered her. “I could stay on my feet just fine if it was not for your thoughtlessness.”
His head snapped back as if she had slapped him. “You dare to chastise me?”
“When you deserve it,” Tavia said, her anger sparking her courage. “I have a limp and it slows me, and nothing will change that no matter how many times you yank me to keep pace with you.”
That she was right, frustrated him. He refused to admit it, but he wished she did not have a limp. He wished she could match his powerful strides, keep pace with him as he walked through the village, and run if necessary. How would she ever run if she needed to? But she had not allowed her limp to stop her from keeping Uta from being hurt as foolish as it had been for her to do so.
Tavia kept her voice low. “I am sorry I am not the wife you wanted, but I will make you a good wife if only you will give me the chance.”
“What happened to your leg?” he asked, taking advantage of the moment to confront her about it. Besides, her gentle tone made it seem that she spoke the truth and perhaps she would make a good wife if given the chance.
“An accident,” she said.
“Tell me about it,” he said.
“I do not like to recall it,” she said, having locked the memory away.
“I want to know. Tell me,” Bhric insisted, wondering if her reluctance to tell him was due to a lie. Had she been born with the limp? Accidents did happen, but too often it was the person’s own fault. Did she not want to admit her fault?
“I fell from a tree,” she said, the memory returning swiftly.
“What were you doing climbing a tree?” Bhric asked, wanting clearer answers, wanting to believe her.
She said the first thing that came to mind. “Why not climb a tree?”
Again, she avoided details. “You slipped?”
She heard the crack ring in her head as loudly as she had the day it happened. “A branch broke.”
“You did not test the branch before stepping on it?” he asked.
“I was new to tree climbing.”
He got an image in his head of what might have happened. An impetuous lass pays no mind to possible danger, climbs a tree for the first time and falls, leaving her leg permanently damaged and her with a limp. Did he believe her when she had given him such little detail? Or was it the truth and should he be relieved it was not an affliction that could be passed on to their bairns?
“A fault of yours… not thinking reasonably before doing something like petting a hound trained to kill. Bones’ name fits him. He enjoys latching onto bones and tearing the meat from them whether the creature is alive or dead.”
“Then it was a woman’s gentle touch and love that Bones craved and not her flesh.”
Was her touch so gentle and loving that it could actually calm a beast? Could she possibly calm the unrest that stirred in him? He did not know what brought him such unrest and it had only begun a year or more ago. It lingered in him as if waiting, but for what he did not know. It had left him feeling unsettled. He had thought that just the idea of his move to Clan MacShane had caused the unrest and that it would dissipate once here, but it hadn’t.
He did not know what made him ask or snap at her the way he did. “And do you crave love, wife?”
“I do, which is probably why Bones obeyed my commands. He sensed a kindred spirit looking for what he desperately wanted… to be loved.”
“You look for love?” he asked, not sure if she was saying what she thought he might want to hear or if she spoke the truth and was truly hoping to find love.
“Everyone looks for love, at least those with good hearts do,” she said. “Those with cold hearts could care less. Is your heart cold, my lord?”
“Bhric! Come, we hunt!” Sven called out.
He ignored her question, not having an answer for her. “No climbing trees and no touching hounds,” he ordered his wife before turning away from her. When he heard nothing but silence from her, he turned back around. “Did you hear me, wife?”
“I did, my lord,” she said with a bob of her head.
“Did I fail to hear you say, ‘Aye, my lord?’” he asked, his expression stern.
“You could not fail to hear what I did not say, my lord.”
He stepped closer to her. “You refuse to obey my orders?”
“How can I agree to obey when I do not know if I would be able to? Though, I doubt I will be climbing a tree, I would not fail to protect a bairn from a hound again if necessary.”