Bhric scowled. “I will not have you spreading lies about my wife, especially when she was the one who found you and called for the healer’ help. You could have laid there and died if it had not been for Tavia.”
“I was told Lady Tavia was found bending over me, stealing the last of my breath,” Marta said, defending her remark.
“She listened for a breath and finding one called out for help. You owe her your life,” Bhric said, making sure his annoyance was heard. “Rest and heal, Marta, so you will be well enough to return home.”
Marta’s eyes turned wide. “Ingrid will need my help with the baby coming soon.”
“Perhaps, but my wife does not need to suffer your disparaging tongue,” Bhric warned.
“I only want what is best for you, my lord,” Marta said, a tear falling from her eye.
“Tavia is best for me, Marta, even though I was too foolish to see that for myself at first. Thankfully my mother knew better as she always does. She also knew better for you when she chose to take you, more welcomed you, into our family. She saved you from a life of suffering.”
“She did and I am forever grateful to her,” Marta admitted.
“Then do not repay her with unkindliness to the woman she chose as my wife.”
“Aye, my lord,” Marta said with a bob of her head.
“Show me you can accept my wife and treat her with respect, and I will reconsider sending you home.”
“Thank you, my lord,” Marta said.
Bhric had no doubts that Marta would do whatever was necessary to stay and help Ingrid, but what troubled him even more was why the woman who was much like a grandmother to him hated his wife so much. And if whoever attacked Marta had used that hatred against her to see his wife blamed for the attack.
Something insidious had worked its way into the clan, but for what reason? That was what he needed to find out.
CHAPTER 25
An ill stomach woke Tavia at dawn a couple of weeks later and she rushed out of her husband’s warm arms to grab the bucket by the hearth and retch, though she more gagged since her stomach was empty.
“Easy,” her husband said as he pulled back her hair draped around the bucket then eased her down to sit on a bench.
When she stopped retching, he took the bucket from her, rinsed a clean cloth in the bucket of water kept fresh by the hearth then squatted down to wipe her face gently.
Tavia sighed with the simple pleasure his tender touch brought her. It not only showed how much he cared for her but how much he loved her.
“This is the third morning you have retched,” he said.
It had not been that long since she missed her monthly bleed. She suspected she might be with child but with such a short time span she was not certain.
She raised her head. “I suspect, but I cannot be sure that I am with child.”
“While I hate seeing you suffer, the prospect of our bairn growing inside you fills me with great joy,” he said, his broad smile proving that joy.
“I would prefer we keep this between you and me until I am certain,” Tavia said.
“I agree, but you will be cautious knowing it is possible.”
“Aye, Bhric, I will take no chances should our bairn be nestled inside me.”
He lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed, slipping in beside her once he tucked her beneath the blanket. “It is early. You should sleep more.”
“I cannot since now I am famished,” she said, snuggling against his warmth.
He loved how easily she fit herself against him as if they had been carved perfectly for each other, two pieces—never thought to fit—brought together as one, together for always.
“Give yourself a moment to rest and then we will go eat,” he said, and she yawned before fitting her head comfortably in the crook of his arm.