Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 97306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
“I will tend your wound,” he said and grabbed a cloth off the bench that held the items Fia had asked for and had been placed close to the bed for her to tend herself.
She thought to stop him, but instead, her smile returned as she said, “And what experience do you have to perform such a task?”
He turned a glare on her until he saw the playfulness in her dark eyes and a smile of his own surfaced. “I have seen Llyod tend many similar wounds, but I am almost certain that my wife will be unable to let me tend her without telling me what to do.”
Fia laughed softly. “You have come to know me well, husband.”
“Aye, far more than I expected,” he said after rinsing the cloth in the bucket and used it to clean the blood around the wound.
Fia had already experienced his gentle touch, something no one would realize he possessed with the powerful way he wielded his sword. She closed her eyes as he caressed her face with the wet cloth, clearing away the blood.
“I left fear behind the day I escaped the man I was sold to. I never let it touch me again until today,” he said, being as gentle as he could so as not to cause her pain.
Fia opened her eyes to see the worry in his bold blue eyes.
“I feared you were dead, you laid so lifeless in the snow. I feared I would never get to hold you again, feel your love wrap around me, kiss you, make love to you, live the rest of my life with you. But most of all I feared I lost the chance to ever tell you that… I love you. At least what I feel I believe is love, having never known it. All I know is that I never felt as I did today when I thought you were dead. It was as if my heart shattered into pieces that could never be put back together again, that I would never feel whole, that life was meaningless without you.”
Fia hurried her hands to cup his face and lavished endless kisses on his lips as if trying to capture his every word and tuck each away inside her.
Varrick stopped her, easing her away from him, not that he wanted to, and her look of displeasure told him she felt the same.
“You’re bleeding,” he said quickly and reached for a clean cloth to quell the flow. “Our marriage will not be an easy one. Many tales will be born of the legendary Highlander’s witch wife.”
“In time, I will prove I am a healer and no witch.”
“And through the years things may happen that suggest otherwise.”
“Then we will face them together and show everyone the strength of our love,” she said as if their love had the power to settle any problem and heal all troubles.
“You have such faith, wife.”
“Aye… in us,” she said and brushed a light kiss across his lips.
“My lord.”
They both turned to see Argus standing in the open doorway.
“You found the culprit?” Varrick asked, eager to get his hands on him.
“Aye. We chased him down. He hit a low hanging branch that knocked him off his horse. He’s dead.”
“That was not what I hoped to hear,” Varrick said, “but at least he will cause no more harm. Was there anything on him that might tell where he came from or a clan he could belong to?”
“Nay, though I would guess he was a man for hire, but what sense is there in killing a hawk?” Argus said, shaking his head.
“Not just any hawk, Lord Varrick’s hawk.” Fia pointed out. “What would people think if Lord Varrick failed to protect his hawk?”
Argus realized immediately what she meant. “That if he failed to protect his hawk, he could also fail to protect the clan.”
“And once again place more doubt in already confused minds,” Fia said.
Argus’s brow wrinkled. “Why did we not hear the God of Death’s hell hounds howl before this death?”
“My grandmother taught me that the God of Death has no interest in quick deaths. It is the ones who linger from illness or battle wounds that cause his presence.”
“Why?” Argus asked.
“My grandmother believed he enjoyed a good battle.”
“Then he has come to the right place,” Varrick said, “for I will give him a battle he will never forget.”
Fia stepped out of the healing cottage, giving her back a good stretch. It had been a busy day, mostly because her husband had refused to let her return to her duties as a healer for two days after the incident in the woods.
Her wound had been minor, but he had been stubborn about it, and for two days she had remained in the keep. She had used some of that time to confiscate a small room not far from her husband’s solar that would be a perfect place to dry her plants and prepare them for mixtures as well. Merry had seen to having it cleaned out and items Fia had requested moved in. And while much still needed to be done there, she left instructions with Merry as soon as her husband had informed her that she could return to the healing cottage. It felt wonderful to return to her work and to talk with people, listen to them and learn while helping them.