Adara hurried to her feet, the garment she was stitching falling off her lap, and rushed to the door.

“You should leave him be,” Callie warned.

“No, he needs me,” Adara snapped and went after her husband, knowing in her heart it was the right thing to do. She caught him on the stairs going down. “Warrick, wait,” she called out and in her rush to catch up with him lost her balance and began to tumble.

Warrick flew up the stairs and caught his wife in his arms, his heart pounding in his chest at the fear of what could have happened to her.

Adara pressed her face to his chest and gripped his arm firmly, her own heart thundering as badly as her husband’s, hearing it pound against her ear.

“You need to be careful, wife,” he scolded.

“Of my steps or the words I say to you?” she asked, glancing up at him and before he could scold again she continued. “I should not fear speaking to you about anything, nor should we keep secrets from each other.”

“You keep secrets from me, wife?” he asked, a warning note in his tone as he hoisted her up against him and, with one arm around her, carried her up the stairs.

“I have no secrets just some curious thoughts, which I will share with you once you tell me about your first wife,” she said with a gentle smile.

“You bargain with me?” he asked with a scowl.

“I talk freely with you, husband, and I wish for you to do the same with me.”

That she had had the courage to follow after him once he had admitted to killing his wife had amazed him. He had expected her to flee, run from him in fear, never to return. Never had he expected her to follow after him.

Her love for him was far stronger, she more courageous, than he had ever imagined, and he was not deserving of her. How had she been able to love him when she, like himself, had been deprived of love? Where had she found the strength?

“How can you love me?” he demanded as he entered their bedchamber.

She smiled and her words spilled out with a soft laughter. “How can I not? You are so loveable.”

He lowered her to her feet. “Only a fool believes a demon loveable.”

“Then I will gladly carry the title proudly, for loveable you are to me.” She took his hand and walked him to the bed and tugged him down beside her.

He sat alongside her, his body rigid, not saying a word.

She spoke since he refused to. “Tell me what happened, husband, for I do not believe you capable of killing your wife… intentionally.”

“That is your first mistake, I am capable of killing for any reason that suits me,” he said, not turning to look at her.

Her body wisely responded to his cold tone and rigid façade, a tingle of fear crawling over, but she refused to give it credence. Was she a fool after all? Should she pay heed to his words? Should she continue to fear her husband?

Her answer came unbidden. “I grow tired of fearing you, husband. I much prefer loving you.”

Warrick turned and looked at her.

“I was so frightened of you on our wedding night, then you touched me gently and continued to do so throughout the night. I had never been touched with such a gentle hand and what I believed was a caring heart. I felt a spark of happiness when I learned it was not you who sent me to your dungeons to be tortured. I wanted to believe that night meant something to us both. I think the fear of discovering that that might not be true kept me from returning to you. I wanted to believe our bairn was conceived out of love. I wanted to believe you cared for me.” She squeezed his hand, she continued to hold, and her other hand she laid against his chest. “I love you and I know, somewhere deep inside, you love me. So, husband, I refuse to fear you any longer. Instead, I will give you all the love I have stored inside me, all the love I have so desperately wanted to give someone. I will love you when you scowl at me. I will love you when you demand things of me. I will love you when you threaten me with punishment. I will love you with my dying breath and far beyond that.”

Warrick turned and with his thumb brushed away the single tear that ran down her cheek. He fought to free the words imprisoned in his heart, never to be felt, never to be spoken.

Adara’s heart ached watching her husband struggle to speak and she smiled and brought her lips close to his and whispered, “Love me.”

He captured her lips in a kiss that said more than any words could and they were soon shedding their garments, their naked bodies coming together and blending as one. Their touches were gentle yet demanding, their kisses tender yet urgent, their love strong and growing ever stronger.

It was their fastest joining ever, Adara’s loving declaration having aroused them more than the most intimate touches, and their shared climax left them blissfully satisfied. They laid wrapped around each other in the aftermath of their lovemaking, a satisfied silence filling the room.

It was not until Adara shivered in his arms that Warrick realized that a chill in the room had settled over their naked bodies. He was quick to tuck a blanket around his wife before slipping out of bed.

“Do not go,” Adara said, her small hands gripping his arm to tug him back in bed.

“A moment,” he assured her and kissed her brow. He went to the hearth and added several logs, stirring the dying fire until it blazed with a strong flame. He returned to her, slipping beneath the warm wool blanket to scoop his wife up in his arms and settle her on his lap after sitting and bracing his back against the headboard. He pulled the blanket over them, tucking it around his wife.

Adara settled comfortably in his arms as she always did. It felt like coming home when his powerful arms slipped around her and held her close, and she cherished that feeling and always would.

“Time to talk, wife,” Warrick said.

Adara looked at him and smiled softly.

Warrick loved her smile, especially when it was directed at him. He also loved the feel of her in his arms. He had felt she belonged there from the first time he had held her, and when she was not in his arms, he felt more empty, more alone than he ever did. He was grateful she belonged to him, grateful she loved him, but then he belonged to her as well and he loved her as well and that would never change.

“King James arranged a marriage for me,” he began. “With all the land and power I was accumulating in the Highlands, he wanted a union of his choice that would prove beneficial to his rule. I agreed and Sondra was sent to me to wed. All I knew of her was that she was the daughter of a clan chieftain from one of the northern isles. We met on our wedding day—”

Adara remained silent as her husband paused in thought, though she rested a comforting hand on his chest his wife’s warm, gentle touch released him from his captured thoughts and he continued. “She did not want to wed me. She made it clear with her first words to me. She told me I should die and rot in hell where I belonged. I told the King’s courier there would be no wedding, but he made it clear that there was no changing what had been agreed upon. The woman had no choice. She would do her duty and wed me and I should do the same since the documents were binding.

“I intended to consummate our vows quickly and let her be.” He shook his head. “She had other intentions. She made it seem that she surrendered to the inevitable and would do her duty when she drew a knife on me suddenly, and without the least provocation. I reacted instinctively. I grabbed her wrist as she lunged the knife at my throat, twisting it away with such a sharp force that the blade caught at her throat slicing part of it.

“I grabbed her neck, trying to stop the blood that poured from it, but I knew it was too late. Her last words were garbled but I managed to make sense of them. It seemed I gave her what she wanted most… death rather than be my wife.”

Adara wondered over the woman’s extreme reaction to the arranged marriage. The woman certainly had not feared Warrick if she turned a knife on him, so why not submit to her husband and be done with it?

“Naturally, gossip spread and tales flourished. Many believed Sondra’s clan would demand I pay for her death with my own. How King James managed to avoid any retribution I do not know, but nothing came of it. I refused to wed after that until the King grew impatient and arranged another marriage for me. Before any documents could be signed—”

“You took me as your wife,” Adara said.

“Aye,” he said with a nod. “I wanted someone who was accustomed to obedience.”

“Who better than a servant, though from the King’s message it would seem he will not sanction our union unless,” —she paused, her brow wrinkling— “the man in the woods, your mission, that is what the King eluded to in his message. Unless that mission proves successful, he will not sanction our marriage.”

Adara’s shiver of fear trickled across his skin and he hugged her tighter against him. “I will let no one, not even the King, take you from me.”

“I believe you. I also believe you would die trying, if the King should send troops against you, and what good would that do if we could not be together?”

“You will not worry over this. I will make certain the mission is successful.”

Adara nodded, praying it would prove so. “I am sorry about Sondra. I feared being wed to you at first, but she had to have been filled with tremendous hate for you to prefer death to being your wife. How could she hate you when she did not know you?”

“Reputation I suppose.”

“Then should it not be fear she felt for you? Where did her hate come from?”

“I never gave it thought,” he admitted. “It was over and done. There was nothing to think on.”

Adara could understand that. There was harshness she experienced that was better left buried. Though something as horrible as what Warrick had dealt with, she could not imagine being buried so easily.

A knock sounded at the door.

“Who disturbs me?” Warrick called out gruffly.

“Come away from that door, Callie,” Roark ordered.

“No. I want to make sure Adara is all right,” Callie argued.

“Did I not forbid you to disturb Warrick,” Roark snapped.

“Forbid? Wrong word, husband,” Callie snapped back.

Adara laughed softly at the couple arguing on the other side of the door.

“You find it amusing, wife?” Warrick asked and found himself unable to stop from smiling.

“Aye, I do. Your sister has a caring heart and much strength that she would choose to face your wrath to see that I was all right.”

“She should know I would never harm you.”

“She was not worried you would harm me. She was concerned how I would feel after speaking with you about Sondra. She is a good friend to me.”

“I am not leaving here until I talk to Adara,” Callie said, though more shouted.

“Aye, you are,” Roark said.

“Put me down! Put me down now!” Callie shouted.

Adara and Warrick both laughed, and Adara called out. “I am fine, Callie. Worry not.”

“I am pleased to hear that. We will talk later. Now put me down, Roark,” Callie demanded.

“No, not until I punish you for disobeying me,” Roark said.

Callie gasped. “That is not fair, husband, I much prefer when I feel your hand slap my naked backside.”

“Get her out of here, Roark!” Warrick shouted out with a roar and shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “I do not need to hear what he does to my sister.”

Adara laughed, her stomach gurgled in hunger, and the bairn gave a kick.

Warrick’s hand went to her rounded stomach as he shouted out, “Send a servant, Roark.” He caressed her stomach, the bairn moving beneath his hand. “I should have known hunger would strike you. It always does after we make love.”

“I think the bairn demands more nourishment as well. He is growing more active with each day.”

“You mentioned something about secrets,” he said, leaving the rest for her to say.

“Not so much secrets as thoughts that linger and make me question,” Adara said.

“Question what?”

“Why my mum and da decided to journey to the north Highlands, a rugged place for sure. It was something Burchard said that got me thinking. He told me that my da said something about the far Highlands being a place where men go to disappear. He was a crofter. Why go someplace where the land was not welcoming for planting? I wondered if my da wanted to disappear and if so, why?”

“When crops fail, crofts fail. There may have been nothing left here for your da.”

“But my uncle sent my mum to a titled family in hopes she would make a good marriage. How did a woman living with a family of influence end up marrying a crofter?”