Newlin appeared too befuddled to say anything and Lord Torin looked as if he was ready to land a punch or two on Ivan, so Cree took the matter in hand.
He stepped forward close to Ivan, meaning to intimidate and he did, a slight tremble running through Ivan. “You have had your say now take your leave. You will have your answer tomorrow as Newlin promised.”
Lord Ivan grew bold. “It best be in my favor.”
“Or what?” Cree challenged.
Ivan did not know how to respond. His face contorted in confusion and his mouth appeared as if ready to speak but nothing came out.
“Will you be honorable and accept the decision or pout like a woman?” Cree demanded and could almost feel his wife’s glare jabbing him in the back for making it seem that pouting was something only women did.
Ivan shook his confusion off and turned away from Cree to address Newlin. “I will see you tomorrow.” He then stormed out of the room, anger in his every step, almost running into Argus as he entered the Great Hall.
Torin cast a glare at Newlin. “Do not tell me you are even considering his offer.”
“Never would I allow it,” Newlin said, his face cringing in disgust.
“I care not what that angry fellow was denied,” Argus said with a stern look on Newlin. “But I will not be denied speaking with the prisoner.”
Cree did not need to look, though he did, to see the alarmed look on Dawn’s face and hurried to say, “I will take you to speak with her.”
Newlin’s shoulders sagged in relief. “I am grateful, Lord Cree. There is much I must see to before tomorrow.” He rushed out of the room before anyone could say another word.
Tavia followed quick on his heels, her face taut with worry for her da.
Torin excused himself, leaving the keep, and Cree had no doubt that the man intended to send another message to Lord Bhric apprising him of what was going on. Something he, himself, had often done before arriving expected or unexpected at a clan. It gave one an advantage and Lord Bhric had been wise in doing the same.
“A moment,” Cree said to Argus and went to his wife, seeing that she had drifted closer to the hearth. She was chilled and appeared tired, a slight slump to her body. It was his fault. He should not have disturbed her rest or made her all the more tired with their bout of lovemaking. It had been a bit more demanding—on both their parts—than he had expected. And once in the throes of such passion, such love, it was far too difficult to slow down, not that they had wanted to. Besides, they encouraged each other with every intimate touch and thrust. He stopped a more than satisfied grin from surfacing, though he could not stop the arousal he felt in his loins, the memory of their climax too recent and too vivid.
“You need to return to the bedchamber and rest for the remainder of the day,” Cree said, stroking her cheek gently. He was ready for an argument and was surprised when he did not get one. Her easy compliance worried him. “Are you feeling unwell?”
She pretended to yawn.
“You’re tired,” he said, and she nodded and also raised her hand to her mouth as if drinking.
Cree nodded. “I will have a hot brew sent to our room. Beast will stay with you and Dermid will be right outside your door.”
She nodded, patted his chest, kissed his cheek, then gestured that he was to make sure Argus did not harm Fia.
His wife was rarely compliant and always spoke up, in her own unique way, to make herself heard. So, it relieved him when she let it be known that he was to see Fia suffered no harm.
“I will see to it, wife,” he assured her and waited and watched as Dermid and Beast followed her out of the room.
“There are rumors about you and your voiceless wife,” Argus said.
“Be cautious of what you say about my wife,” Cree warned, “or you will lose more than a few teeth.
Argus raised his hands. “I mean no disrespect, Lord Cree. I only meant to express my amazement as to how easily you and your wife converse. Lady Dawn may not have a voice, but she appears to make herself heard.”
Cree grinned. “Of that I can easily attest to.”
He did not know what it was about Argus, but he sensed he was a trustworthy soul and faithful to the legendary warrior just as Sloan, his longtime friend, was to him.
Argus did not approach the cell; he kept a safe distance.
Cree remained beside him and felt pity for the woman behind the metal bars. Grime mixed with sweat on her face, and he could only imagine the pain she suffered from the beating she had taken. She hugged the blanket tight around her, her bare shoulders showing she was naked beneath. The shadows also hugged her, making it difficult to see her clearly.