She kept alert, making sure no one saw her make her way to the dungeon. She would not be long. Her question would be quick. She had no time to linger. This had to be done and she could not waste time thinking of the right or wrong of it. It was the only thing left to her.
* * *
Bhric caught sight of his wife talking with Hertha, the woman who had spoken with her in the Great Hall not long ago. He was told that Hertha was a healer, a young one, but her skill would be welcomed as would the man Hume who he had been told was wise in the properties of plants. He would see the two children housed with the pair once at the clan.
Hertha kept nodding as his wife spoke to her. Was she agreeing with what his wife had to say or was she agreeing to something entirely different? He wondered if he would have to keep an eye on Hertha. After all, she would be loyal to Tavia, and loyalty brought all types of possibilities with it.
He caught the look of surprise on his wife’s face when she spotted him. It turned quickly enough to a pleasant smile, and she waved, acknowledging him. Then she took off, though not with haste. Her limp kept her pace tempered and she avoided heavy areas of snow. She would never be able to handle the snow in his homeland even without the limp. She would sink and be lost in a snowdrift with no strength to get herself out.
Did the thought of her buried in a snowdrift make the decision for him? The only thing in her favor was that he found her pleasing to look upon, though he did favor her scent, and he had to admit he had given thought to what it would be like to bed her. The image had aroused him, but he never finished it in his mind, too fearful of hurting her and that definitely would not do.
He knew what he had to do. What was best. He would compensate Newlin by making needed repairs in the village and see Clan Strathearn was provided with food for the remaining winter.
“A moment, Newlin,” he said. “I wish to speak with my wife.” He called out to her. “Tavia.”
She stopped and turned, her cheeks rosy from the cold as well as her lips and he was suddenly struck with the unexpected thought to kiss her and to his surprise he grew aroused.
“We need to talk,” he snapped annoyed that his shaft responded so easily to the thought. “Later and in private.”
“No one will disturb us in my bedchamber,” she said.
His tongue remained snappish since her innocent invitation aroused him even more. “We will speak after supper.”
“I will await your arrival, my lord,” she said.
“Go!” he ordered harshly.
She bobbed her head and walked away.
His arousal remained, but as he watched her limp away, he knew he had made the right choice. She would not make him a good wife. She lacked strength. It was only right he tell her before he told Newlin. He would see to it tonight and it would be done. His mother would have to start the search for a wife for him once again.
CHAPTER 4
Tavia paced her bedchamber. She had to do this. She had no choice. She had told herself that repeatedly after Lord Bhric had told her that he wished to speak to her. She knew what he intended to say… he would not honor the marriage agreement.
Her heart fluttered wildly in her chest and her stomach churned as badly as tumultuous waves in the sea. She had to make sure this worked. She could not fail. Too many were counting on her. And she had only this one chance. She looked at the two goblets filled with wine, one more potent than the other, sitting on the small table against the wall. She had followed Fia’s directions precisely. The bedding was drawn back, the sheets freshly scented, and she wore only her nightdress.
The plan had come to her in haste and out of desperation. She prayed it would work. It had to.
She jumped when the door opened without a cautionary knock, and her husband entered. She feared he might snuff the fire from the hearth, his dominate presence and size overpowering the room. Or was it her own fear that stirred the image?
“This will not take long,” he said, seeing her ready for bed or had she hoped to entice him into her bed and seal their vows?
“A glass of wine. It is excellent wine. My da gets it from a traveling merchant,” she babbled nervously as she stepped toward the table.
“Nay, Tavia. I will be quick,” he said, knowing the news would disappoint her and not wanting to linger over it. “I have come to tell you that I have decided I cannot agree to our marriage arrangement, though I—” He stopped when he saw her face break out in a huge smile.
“Thank goodness,” Tavia said dramatically, her hand suddenly pressed flat against her chest. “You are right. We are not suited at all. You have brought me great relief.” She hurried and grabbed the two goblets of wine. “A toast to what is surely the best thing for us both.”
Bhric took the goblet from her, shocked by her response. He thought she would break down in tears and here she was celebrating that she would not be his wife. He should be relieved, but he was annoyed.
He downed the wine quickly and held the goblet out to her. “More.”
She refilled his goblet with only wine and recalled Fia telling her that if he drank more wine after taking the mixture it would work faster. She handed it to him, happy he had asked for another.
“You do not want me as a husband?” Bhric asked, still surprised by her response and still bothered he was annoyed with it.
“As you said, we are not suited. I am sure you will find a woman that will suit you far better than me,” Tavia said and sipped her wine.