Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 99593 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99593 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
“Torrance would not do that. He would wear his annoyance for all to see which you are having difficulty maintaining right now. So, turn your desire to kiss me to anger that Torrance is stopping you from kissing me.” Her eyes widened with how fast anger flared in his eyes.
Ryland snarled. “Even in death, he touches you.”
“I want badly to soothe you, but it will not help us. So, stay angry,” she said, folding her arms across her chest and turning her head away from him as if annoyed.
Ryland took advantage of her small act of defiance and grabbed hold of her chin to turn her head to face him and spoke loud enough for those nearby to hear. “Watch your tongue, wife, or I’ll see you locked away in your bedchamber.”
Esme lowered her head. “Forgive me, my lord.” She hurried to whisper, “You better be locked away with me.”
He scoffed, for the benefit of anyone watching them, and she could swear she felt him grow hard against her. A smile hurried to her face, but she kept it from escaping, eager to get home and be locked away with him.
CHAPTER 29
The Great Hall was quiet but for the crackle of the hearth fire and the occasional rustle of servants moving about. Esme sat at a table near the heat of the hearth with her hands wrapped around a tankard of hot cider to warm her insides. They had arrived home late yesterday, and sleep had been the only thing on their minds. This morning Ryland got busy securing the keep and village, making sure no one could approach without warning. She had hoped they could inquire about Verna, the woman Ida had told her about, but he couldn’t spare the time. She tried to inquire about it herself, but people were too fearful of Torrance to answer any of her questions. The cold had driven her back into the keep to get warm.
“You need this.”
Esme turned at Brenna’s raised voice, never having heard the soft-spoken healer raise it.
“Are you deaf, woman, I said I’m fine.”
Brenna stood beside the high table, a cloth in one hand and a small earthen bowl of salve in the other, her gaze fixed on Brack as he sat stone still at a table, his expression stern.
“You are not,” she pressed, stepping closer, her voice firm. “The wound—”
“You have done a fine job. It will heal well.” He stood so abruptly she stumbled back a step, and he stepped closer, planting his face nearly against hers. “I don’t need fussing.”
Brenna blinked hard. “I’m not fussing.” Her voice cracked, the hurt slipping through despite her best effort. “I just—I care if you heal well as any good healer would.”
He turned to walk away, but her whispered plea stopped him. “Brack, please.”
His shoulders tensed, but he didn’t turn. “Leave me be, woman.”
Then he strode from the hall, the heavy door closing behind him with a final thud that left silence hanging thick in the air.
Brenna stared at the door, the cloth and bowl still in her hands.
Esme watched her. She had seen clipped exchanges between the two and then there were the moments she had caught a tender look passing between them. She had had her suspicions, though she had said nothing to anyone. She thought her suspicions foolish just as she doubted thinking Ryland had returned as Torrance, but she was right. And she felt the same now, though she wondered how Brenna could love a man who made it known that marriage was not for him. Or did Brack wear a mask as well?
Brenna jumped when Esme placed a gentle hand on her arm and, tried of secrets, asked, “You have feelings for Brack, don’t you.”
Brenna shook her head. “Nay. Nay. He is—”
“A horrible, terrible man you could never love.”
Anger sparked in Brenna’s eyes. “Brack is a good man who must—” She gasped, then clamped her hand over her mouth.
“You can trust me, Brenna, I will keep your secret.”
Brenna turned away and placed the untouched bowl on the table, before turning back to Esme. “We tried to be cautious. Quiet. A few stolen moments where no one could see. I thought we were careful.”
Esme stepped closer. “Brack’s afraid.”
Brenna nodded slowly, tears slipping down her cheeks. “He’s seen what Torrance does to couples who defy his rules. Those who dared love where he disapproved—he’s separated them, punished them, ruined them. Brack has nothing good to say about marriage since Torrance had once told him when he decided to wed, he would choose a wife for him.” She wiped away a few tears. It would break both our hearts if that was to happen. I am careful of not getting with child but Brack and I both long to have bairns, have a life to love freely.”
Esme lowered her gaze, her throat tightening. “That’s a fear I understand.”