“I give you my word, Rannick, but I do so under protest. And I will have your word that if I get with child, the blame will rest on your shoulders not mine.”
“I have no worry of that happening, so I give you my word, as unnecessary as it is, that you will not be blamed,” he said. “Now I must go see what news was brought to my father that could not wait while you wait here for me.”
Bliss dropped down to sit on the bench in front of the hearth. She shook her head perplexed. Something was wrong somewhere. The mixture she had received was worthless. Why then did it work for Rannick’s mum? Unless she needed it no more and had not realized it.
There was another explanation, though it did not seem plausible. Someone changed the pouches and gave Bliss a worthless potion. But that made absolutely no sense. People wanted her and Rannick dead. This was just the opposite. Someone wished an heir to Clan MacClaren. Could Lawler have switched pouches? He was loyal to Lord Lochlann.
Bliss intended to find out and she intended to hold her husband to his word when she got with child, for there was no doubt she would get with child, and that brought a smile to her face.
CHAPTER 18
Rannick sat in silence during supper, his thoughts lingering on the news that he had learned earlier. They had been followed after leaving the cottage by a group of about eight, possibly more men from what the tracker had found. His father had arrived just in time or else…
He stabbed at the piece of meat in the wooden bowl with his knife, his anger just as volatile now as it had been when he had learned the news. He would have never been able to keep his wife safe against a group that size. And his fury at what she might have suffered angered him all the more. The tracker who had discovered the tracks told Lawler that the group had turned off in a different direction, after following at a brief distance, no doubt realizing Rannick was returning to the keep. They probably did not have sufficient men to go against his father’s numerous and highly skilled warriors.
As much as he had not wanted to return home, he was grateful he had. Here he could keep his wife well-protected while he searched for the culprit responsible for it all. He would also reach out to Odran and Brogan and let them know what had happened and warn them to be careful.
“No need for worry, son,” his father said, sitting next to him on the dais. “You and Bliss are safe here. No harm will come to either of you.”
“I cannot believe someone wishes death upon the both of you,” Helice said, shaking her head. “Everyone suffers enough. Why inflict more on us?” Her face pinched in annoyance. “It is that curse. It will never let us know peace.”
Bliss remained as silent as her husband. She barely ate, finding her surroundings far too uncomfortable. Warriors filled many of the tables and indulged in loud talk and spats of laughter. The long table on the dais was made for limited conversation to the person next to you and Bliss was relieved that her husband was the only one who she sat beside.
She much preferred the simple days she had spent with him alone in the confines of the cottage compared to the large keep. It felt like a home, and a home was something she had never thought she would find with Rannick.
“You need to eat.”
Bliss raised her head, turning to respond and was surprised to find he had lowered his head down, his face close to hers. Instinctively, her hand moved to touch his face, the way she had grown accustomed to doing when they had been alone but stopped herself. It would not be appropriate here.
She rested her hands in her lap. “I am not hungry.”
“Eat anyway and that is not a request, wife,” he said. “You have not eaten since early this morning.”
“My stomach churns. Food will not sit well,” she said, her stomach uneasy since their arrival there.
Concern tightened the lines in his brow. “Is there something that can ease it?”
“I can make a brew that may offer some relief,” she said and went to slip off her chair, eager to get away.
Rannick’s hand quickly went to her shoulder. “Stay where you are, a servant will see to the brew according to your directions.”
She did not trust anyone to brew what she needed, especially with what happened to Shona, and she reminded him of that. “It is best I see for myself what goes in it.”
Rannick immediately understood and it reminded him that more precautions were necessary.
A rush of cold air sent the fire’s flames dancing wildly and all heads turned to the door and hands went to daggers at the warriors’ waists when it swung open wide, a strong wind ushering in a warrior and a young man.