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Elysia wiped at the single tear that had trailed down her cheek. There was a good chance she would lose both her sisters. She realized that was the true reason why Bliss and Annis had cautioned her to seek protection, though neither had voiced it. They feared she would be left on her own, all alone, with no one to look after her.

The thought roiled her stomach so badly she had to stop. With her hand once again pressed against her stomach, she sat on a toppled tree branch in hopes of calming her unease.

She could not say she hadn’t thought of marriage. She hoped one day to find love and have a family. Unfortunately, there were no men in the village she found appealing… until Saber.

Her cheeks heated at the thought of the man, and she smiled. Saber was nothing like she sought in a husband or that she believed she would find appealing. Most importantly, he was too large. He devoured her short height and his width was enough for her to hide behind, something she had already done—quite by accident—when trying to keep out of Lawler and Cadell’s sight as they searched for a wife for the cursed lord. His fine features were quite captivating as were his green eyes, though his eyes were bolder in color than her own soft green eyes. While she hoped for a quiet man, one not boisterous in nature or speech, she felt for Saber, he having lost his voice from a wound that left a scar across his throat.

She had learned some healing ways from Bliss, her sister being a healer. She had been having Saber drink a soothing concoction and take a syrup that she hoped would help heal his throat and fully restore his voice to him. She was sure when he did speak it would be with an unassuming voice. If there was one thing she dreaded in a husband, it was that he would be a warrior who favored the sword and battle. Warriors were far too commanding and demanding to be a good husband.

“What are you doing out here by yourself? When you are my wife, you’ll go no place without my permission.”

Elysia stood and turned, making sure to keep her distance from Clyde. He had a demanding tongue and a brash manner. His thick arms and meaty fists always swung far too quickly when annoyed, but then he always seemed annoyed. Moray, a gentle soul of a man, bore a crooked nose thanks to a senseless punch from Clyde. Elysia wanted nothing to do with him. He, however, thought otherwise.

“I spoke with Chieftain Emory and he is considering my offer to wed you,” Clyde said. “Though he believes you should have time to consider it or any other proposals that might come your way.” He puffed out his ample chest. “There is no chance of that happening since I intend to make it known that no one better stand in my way of marrying you.”

Fear of marrying Clyde had her speaking up. “I will not marry you, Clyde, and I cannot be forced to wed you. Bliss made sure of that.”

He fisted his thick hand and shook it at her. “I’ll see about that. You will wed me on that you can be sure.”

Elysia did not want to engage in a senseless argument with him for fear of where it may lead. “I need to go.”

“Where do you go?” Clyde demanded.

Elysia always kept a truthful tongue and it troubled her to lie, though at the moment it was for the best. “I go to tend a woman with child.”

“You will be with child fast enough once we wed and you will submit like a good wife or you will feel the strength of my hand,” he warned, again shaking his fist at her.

Fear rippled through her. She had seen the consequences of what some women suffered at their husband’s hand and she wanted no part of such a dangerous union.

“I must go,” Elysia said and took cautious steps away from him.

“Mark my words, Elysia, I will have you as my wife,” Clyde said.

Elysia shivered at the thought and she hurried off, realizing now that she had to see this done or the consequence could prove disastrous. The problem was that she had no idea how to see it done. How did she ask a man to marry her?

Her legs grew heavier the closer she got to Saber’s croft and she wondered if something warned her away from what she was about to do. Or was it simply fear that weighed her down? She stopped a moment, trying to gather her courage. Her thoughts went to her sister Bliss. How would it be for her when she met her husband, the cursed lord? Would she shake with fright or cower in fear?


Tags: Donna Fletcher Romance