The Scarred Highlander (Blood & Honor Trilogy #1) Read Online Donna Fletcher

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Historical Fiction Tags Authors: Series: Blood & Honor Trilogy Series by Donna Fletcher
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Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 95326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
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His wife was growing more and more attractive to him, especially now seeing her in garments that actually fit her. And her lovely hair only added to her appeal.

Bloody hell, if he didn’t find her tempting, far too tempting.

How was he ever going to sleep beside her in bed tonight and not touch her when he had every right to and that it was his duty as a husband to produce an heir to the clan? He needed to avoid thinking about it. But how did he do that when he was tempted every time he looked upon her?

“I meant to tell you that Kara misses you,” he said, thinking of his talk with the little lass, which helped to distract from the tempting thoughts of his wife. “She says you were teaching her about numbers. Have you always had a skill with numbers?”

“Aye, since I was young,” Elsie said.

“Kara claims she wants to keep count of everything like you.”

“It is important to keep count of things in the clan. It helps the clan thrive and often survive. Kara is bright for her age, and it is good to know she enjoys learning about numbers. She can be an asset to the clan as she grows.”

Cavell kept the talk safe, away from anything intimate and did not realize the time that past he was so enjoying speaking with his wife, until she yawned. He noticed then the candles had burned down low and the fire in the hearth had dwindled.

“You are tired. You should sleep,” he said.

“And you?” she asked.

“I will join you soon enough,” he said and went to the hearth to add more logs to the dwindling flames.

Elsie attempted to understand her disappointment that he would not join her right away. She feared him seeing her naked and yet she had the urge to couple with him. Or was it that she wanted to make love with him, having far more feelings for her husband than she cared to admit?

A knock on the door sounded before Elsie reached the bed.

It could only be one person and Cavell opened it to find May standing there.

“Chieftain Norris is awake, though I do not know for how long or how alert he will be. But you said to let you know.”

“We will try and speak with him,” Cavell said and stretched his hand out to his wife.

Elsie hurried to latch onto his hand, and he led her out the door.

The little light that was in her da’s bedchamber came from the hearth, but Elsie didn’t need much light to see her da’s bed. It loomed large in the shadows, and she rushed to her da’s side.

She fumbled to find her da’s hand and was grateful to May when she tipped the candle she held for the flame to catch the wick of the candle on a chest that sat beside his bed.

Elsie was glad to see her da had not gotten any thinner than when last she saw him, though he was still too thin. She dropped down beside the bed and took hold of his hand. It was far too frail to the touch, and she kept it cradled gently in hers.

“Da. Da, it’s me, Elsie. I’m here,” she said softly and repeated it when he opened his eyes and looked confused.

“It’s Elsie, Da. I’ve come home,” she said.

Her da’s eyes suddenly went wide. “Nay! Nay! The abbey. You should be at the abbey where I sent you and your sisters.”

CHAPTER 8

Elsie stared at her da shocked at his words.

“Nay! Nay!” her da said, tossing his head from side to side. “Go back to the abbey. Get back there now!”

A pain twisted in Elsie’s heart and she grew more upset when he yanked his hand out of hers and waved his hand at her, shooing her away.

“Go! Do as I say! Now!” her da ordered.

Cavell clamped his hands on his wife’s shoulders and brought her to her feet, moving her away from the bed. Her da’s unexpected remark had obviously shocked her since she was expecting the opposite of what he had said.

“Pay him no mind, Elsie,” May urged. “His illness rules him. This is why I did not want you to speak with him until he was lucid. When he heals, he will not talk so foolishly.”

“And if he doesn’t heal?” Cavell asked and did not wait for an answer. He let the consequences hang in the air unspoken as he hurried his wife out of the room.

He took her straight to their room and eased her down on a bench in front of the hearth, then filled a tankard with wine and handed it to her, resting his hand over hers and holding it there until the tremor in her hand calmed.

“Drink,” he said, seeing that she had paled, and his heart ached for her. He knew the sting of disappointment from a parent. It truly could damage or even worse, scar the soul.


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