Bliss set to work as did Damia, following Bliss’s every order, though not before Rannick took a cloth and gently wiped the smeared blood off his wife’s neck while she saw to cleaning it off her hand. The fiery rage in his eyes would scorch most people, but Bliss cooled it with a soft smile and a gentle touch to his chest.
“Did you see the arrow coming?” Rannick asked Bram, reluctantly stepping away from Bliss so she could tend the wound.
“I heard it cut through the air, a skill of mine most don’t know about. An arrow has a distinct sound, more so when the air is cold. It has served me well many times,” Bram said. “Though, I was not sure where it would hit. That was why I wrapped myself around Lady Bliss, my lord, to shield her.”
“For that I am forever in your debt, Bram,” Rannick said, not truly knowing how to repay the man.
“That is not necessary, my lord. As I said, I promised Lady Elysia I would keep Lady Bliss safe if I could. I am grateful I was able to, and I am glad I was able, in some small way, to repay Lady Elysia for all she has done for me.” Bram looked to Bliss. “You would be proud of your sister’s healing skills and also her courage.”
Bliss had enjoyed a few conversations with Bram since his unexpected arrival, but they had been brief. No doubt it had been due to Bram’s unease with her husband’s close proximity. It left no time to truly learn all that had gone on with her sister at Clan Loudon. And while she hoped to learn more from him, she would much rather have the chance to speak in person with her sister about it.
“I have always been proud of Elysia and now even more so from what you have said,” Bliss said, glad to see Bram’s wound was not severe.
It did not take long to tend the wound and while Bliss explained how Damia should care for it, on the young woman’s insistence, Rannick and Bram stepped outside.
“It would take an exceptional marksman to shoot from the woods and not be seen,” Bram said.
“My thoughts as well,” Rannick said.
“The snow helps in tracking him.”
“Another thought we share,” Rannick said. “You have proven yourself to me, Bram, not only showing you would protect my wife with your life, but also by seeing to Damia without complaint while training well with my warriors. You are released from the chore of looking after her.”
“If you do not mind, my lord, I would prefer to look after Damia.” Bram hesitated a moment before saying, “She needs me.”
“Then you will do it of your own free will, it no longer being a chore,” Rannick said.
Silence fell over them both as Lawler hurried toward them.
“The culprit is dead, his throat silt,” Lawler said quickly. “We found tracks and the warriors follow them now.”
“Keep me apprised,” Rannick ordered, though it wasn’t necessary. Lawler knew what was expected of him.
Lawler nodded and hurried off and Bram, seeing Lord Lochlann approach, went inside the cottage.
“What is this I hear? Someone tried to kill Bliss?” his father asked, his face pinched with anger as he stopped in front of his son.
“Bram saved her life,” Rannick said.
“Then I guess he is worth keeping.”
“More than worth it, Da.”
“And the culprit?” his father asked.
Rannick explained that he’d been found.
“His throat was sliced? I suppose it was payment for failing his appointed task,” his father said.
Rannick suggested differently. “Or it was planned from the start, a way to slow down anyone who chased after him. They would be too busy with the dead man, thinking he took his life rather than face capture, to pay attention to anything else.”
“Let’s hope the trackers find something,” his father said. “Bliss is unharmed and feeling well?”
“Bliss is good,” Rannick said, knowing his father was waiting for news. And with rumors spreading about Annis and Brogan being wed, something Rannick had not been able to confirm, he decided to make mention of it. “If the rumors that Brogan and Annis are wed turn out to be true, then the bargain you struck with Bliss is void.”
His father’s eyes sparked with anger. “I will have an heir to this clan, Rannick, and if Bliss cannot give you one then I will see your marriage annulled and find a wife that will produce an heir.”
Rannick’s hand shot out and he grabbed his father by his shirt. “I confess to you how I feel about my wife, that I love her, and yet you would dare attempt to take her from me?”
His father yanked at his son’s hand, but his grip was far too strong to break his hold. “You have an obligation.”
“To fuel a curse that has raged for twenty years?” Rannick argued.