The Bewitching Twin (13 page)

L
aughter, chatter, and squeals of excitement filled the air. The village people and the children were thrilled to be moving to a new home and Aliss could not blame them. The land in this area could be difficult to farm, game was not always prevalent, and the winters were harsh and long.

What she knew of the Isle of Non would surely prove to be paradise to them: lush meadows and fields, woods teeming with game, rivers plentiful with fish. It also had once been a home.

Aliss wondered now what clan had occupied the isle and why it had been deserted, its few cottages and keep left to decay. What was Rogan’s interest in it? Did he want a good, permanent home for his clan and saw no other way to achieve it? Or did his motive go deeper?

She was curious about this patch of land that had caused so much dissension and now was about to bring joy to a clan who much needed a home that could sustain them.

Aliss walked with unhurried steps on purpose. She was returning to the cottage, where Tarr and Fiona would be supping with her and Rogan, after being summoned by Daniel’s mother. She had assumed something was wrong with Daniel, but it had been Tara’s concern that her son’s injury would worsen with travel. After calming the young mother and assuring her Daniel would do more than well, that he would actually thrive on the adventure, she had taken her leave, but now she hesitated to return home.

It was not a meal she looked forward to and yet it would not be right to leave her husband to face her family alone. That would be a coward’s choice, and she was no coward. Her time here with the Wolf clan had taught her that and more.

She had discovered not only her strengths but also her weaknesses and had found the courage to battle them all, though victories were yet to be won. The next six months would be her true battlefield.

Could there be a victor in this encounter or would only losses prevail?

A heavy sigh was extinguished before she entered the house and joined her family, who sat in silence at the table. She slid beside Rogan on the bench.

“Daniel is all right?” he asked.

“He is fine. Tara was concerned about him traveling.”

“I had forgotten about his injury. Is he fit to travel or shall we postpone the move until he is well enough?”

“He can travel,” Aliss said abruptly. That Rogan should delay the move for a small lad only proved that he was a good man. Did it not?

“That is good,” Rogan said, and handed her a piece of meat and bread.

“Aliss does not eat that much,” Fiona said, though it sounded as if she scolded him.

“I know my wife’s needs,” Rogan retaliated.

Aliss took the offered food, not certain how to quell the animosity between the pair and not understanding why she felt the need to. If they disliked each other, what could she do about it? Besides, Rogan would be gone in six months.

The thought made her stomach churn and she could only take a small bite of the food.

To her relief, Tarr managed to direct the conversation to safer territory.

“Raynor says he misses you and hopes to visit with you soon. He had wanted to join us but a few skirmishes on the outskirts of Hellewyk land needed his attention.”

“How are Mother and Father?” Aliss asked.

Fiona answered. “They do well and they miss you.”

Aliss relaxed as the conversation turned to family and friends and all the news she had missed during her absence.

By the time the meal was finished, Aliss was relieved that it had gone relatively well under the circumstances. Fiona, however, looked to be killing Rogan with her glaring green stares.

That she disliked the man was obvious and Aliss understood that she was protecting her as she had done since they were young, but they were not young girls anymore. They were young women with lives of their own to live. How did she make her sister understand that? How did she even understand it herself?

They were twins and had relied on each other for so long that it was a given. Aliss had not even considered a life on her own and yet she had been living one. While she had missed her sister, she had enjoyed her freedom of sorts.

“See, I told you,” Fiona accused. “Too much food, she cannot eat it.”

Rogan did not glance at the food; he focused on Fiona. “Your sister’s thoughts are heavy. That is why she has not eaten.”

“Of course her thoughts disturb her. How could they not when she has wed a lying foe.”

“That is between Aliss and me and does not concern you,” Rogan said in a respectable tone, to Aliss’s relief.

Fiona, however, did not grant him the same consideration. “It damn well concerns me. I am her sister—”

“I am her
husband
.”

“Not for long.”

“That is up to Aliss—”

“Who knows what she needs to do,” Fiona finished.

“The choice remains hers and you should not forget that.”

Fiona looked ready to lunge.

“Enough!” Aliss shouted. “This day has been difficult enough without you two bickering. Rogan is right, Fiona. The choice is mine and I wish to make it without interference or opinions from anyone.”

“And so you shall,” Tarr said. “We will keep our visits infrequent and brief.”

“But—”

Aliss allowed no room for her sister’s protest. “I thank
both
of you for understanding.”

“What of the babe?” Fiona asked, upset. “You will not be there to deliver him?”

“Of course she will,” Rogan said adamantly. “Aliss would never abandon you in your time of need. Besides, she has looked forward to the birth, reminding me often enough she had to return in time to deliver him.”

Fiona smiled at her sister and Aliss felt swamped with guilt. Fiona was bold and she loved with a boldness that could devour a person. She had devoured Tarr that way and he loved her for it.

“We can come stay with you at Hellewyk for the birth,” Rogan suggested. “So you need not worry.”

Aliss could tell by the way Fiona looked suspiciously at Rogan that she was uncertain what to make of him. That was good, for then maybe she could change her sister’s opinion of him.

But could she herself do the same?

Would she find a way to make sense of this mess and take a chance that he did not lie about loving her?

The evening meal was finished soon enough, and Fiona yawned repeatedly until Tarr suggested to a protesting Fiona that she needed to sleep. It was not until Aliss advised her that the baby required rest that Fiona capitulated and the pair retired to a cottage that had been prepared for them.

Rogan left the cottage without a word to Aliss shortly after Tarr and Fiona had taken their leave. Aliss was glad for the solitude and packed a couple of baskets with her healing paraphernalia. She had debated about taking the clothes Rogan had given her that had belonged to his wife. He had been generous in giving them to her and she would not insult him by leaving them behind, though she would return them to him when they separated.

Separated
.

She shivered at the thought; she had become attached to Rogan and his considerate ways. But had they been part of a well-executed ruse?

A yawn reminded her that the day had been long and emotionally tiring. It would be a relief to have sleep claim her body and mind. She sat on the narrow bed she had slept in when she had first arrived. She could not bring herself to climb into her husband’s bed. She did not know where his lies began and where they ended and that left her feeling vulnerable.

She now felt more than naked in front of him even though she was clothed.

“What are you doing?”

Aliss jumped at his booming accusation. “Going to sleep.”

“You are in the wrong bed.”

His glaring green eyes and his predatory stance reminded her of a wolf, and she suddenly felt intimidated. He stepped to the side, a silent demand that she seek her sleep in his bed, but she remained firm.

“I prefer to sleep here.”

“You are my wife.”

“The circumstances have changed,” she said, attempting to keep the quiver out of her voice.

“The fact that you are my wife has not.”

“It is better that I—”

“Tend to your wifely duties.”

Her chin shot up. “You intend to enforce my wifely duties? Should I cook for you, sew for you, and disregard everything and everyone except my husband?”

“I did not ask you to be someone you are not. I simply want you in my bed where you belong.”

She had enjoyed making love with him when she thought he loved her—but now? She could not share such an intimate act with him knowing he had lied. She would not feel the same.

“I would not be comfortable.”

“Why?”

She bunched the blanket between her fingers and searched frantically for an answer that would appease him while keeping her worry to herself.

“Why?” he repeated.

“There is strife between us.”

“Sleeping in separate beds will not improve that,” he said.

“Sleeping together when I doubt your love will not help, either.”

“I want you in my bed.”

It was an adamant plea and she almost felt the need to surrender to him. She took a breath, gathered her wits, and said, “I want to sleep alone.”

“I am not giving you a choice.”

She could not make love with him. She could not, she would surely get pregnant. Then what? He would not abandon his child and she would not relinquish her babe. Was that his plan? Get her with child so he would have to remain with her.

She bolted off the bed. “I will not make love with you.”

“I do not recall asking that of you.”

“You said you wanted me in your bed,” she reminded.

“Sleep was what I said and what I meant.”

“And my other duties?”

“I want us to make love, Aliss, but only if you want to make love with me. I want you in my bed, sleeping beside me, but I will leave the choice of making love up to you.”

Relief and disappointment flooded her all at once and confused her even more. What was she to make of this? Was he setting another plan in motion? Did he think she would surrender easily to him once she lay beside him?

Her yawn sounded more like a cry of help.

“You are tired.”

She had no sooner plopped back down on the bed than he scooped her up and carried her into his room and laid her in his bed.

He turned his back to undress, and knowing it was useless to fight him, Aliss shed her sandals but left her clothes on.

“You will be too warm in those clothes.”

“I will not sleep naked beside you.”

Rogan went to the chest near the door.

Aliss stared at his naked body, admiring every inch of muscle and tanned flesh and remembering the feel of him against her and inside her. Her body heated quickly and she silently cursed herself.

He grabbed something from inside and returned to the bed to toss a white garment at her. “This will be more comfortable.”

It was a white linen shift, soft and trimmed at the round neck with ribbon. He was right, it would definitely be more comfortable, and most probably had belonged to his wife. But then she was now his wife, meant to sleep beside her husband.

He climbed into bed and turned his back to her.

She hopped off the bed and swiftly exchanged her garments for the shift, then climbed under the covers, turning on her side to keep a safe distance between them. She lay stiff waiting for Rogan to move toward her, but he remained where he was and she remained hugging the edge of the bed.

Exhaustion finally claimed her, her body relaxed, her eyes fluttered closed and Rogan turned and draped his warm body over her.

She was too tired to object, and besides, his warmth chased the chill from her flesh and he made no move to touch her. He simply held her.

“I love the feel of you in my arms,” he whispered in her ear.

She refused to admit the same.

“And the scent of you—” He breathed in deeply along her neck. “Intoxicates.”

Her flesh betrayed her, gooseflesh popped up all over her.

He settled his hand over her stomach and she thought for a moment he would—

Light snoring told her otherwise. He had remained true to his word, and while it pleased her, a pesky disappointment assaulted her once again and sleepiness had suddenly vanished.

Her body was alive with passion for him.

She wanted him. She ached to be kissed, touched, and—

She nearly groaned at the thought of him hard and thick and ready to enter her. She chased the seductive thought away, but it refused to go and sprang back into her mind more vividly than before.

No. No,
she scolded.
Do not think about it
.

She shifted and her bottom landed against him. Even soft, his member was impressive.

Stop!

What was wrong with her? She should not be having these thoughts, not after what she had learned. He had lied to her. She could not trust him. She was better off without him.

I will miss sleeping with him
.

Damn her wandering mind.

Aliss fought her feelings, fought her desire, fought her own body, until the battle drained her and she finally fell into an exhausted sleep cuddled in her foe’s arms.

“Y
ou have changed.” Aliss looked up from where she kneeled in her garden, shading her eyes from the sun with her hand to see her sister standing there.

“I was angry at first,” Fiona continued.

Aliss dusted her hands free of soil and sat back on her haunches. The urgency in her sister’s voice meant Fiona had something she needed to say so Aliss remained silent and listened.

“I thought that you did not need me anymore.”

“I do not need you to
look after
me anymore.” Aliss thought she heard a sniffle and went to her sister’s side. “I missed you. I missed our morning walks together and talking with you.”

“What did you not miss?”

Aliss hooked arms with her. “Your constant concern. You constantly protecting me. This time on my own has given me a chance to learn about myself. No one was there to pick me up and brush me off or shield me from harm. There was only me.”

Fiona grabbed hold of her hand. “You are not alone anymore. Tarr and I will go with you to the Isle of Non. Raynor, Mother, and Father can join us and we will all help you so that at the end of six months you—”

“No!” Aliss took a step away from her sister. “I want to finish this on my own.”

“You intend to spend the next six months alone with—with—”

“My husband.” Aliss said what Fiona refused to admit. “This is for me to do.”

“Nonsense—”

“No, it is not nonsense. Have you not listened to what I have said?”

“I heard, but what is wrong with your family helping you?”

“Aliss
has
family to help her.”

Both women turned to face Rogan.

“Tarr and I have spoken. Tomorrow you and he sail home, and
my wife,
I, and the clan sail to the Isle of Non,” he said, and walked over to Aliss.

“We will see about that,” Fiona said and walked off, her steps turning to a hasty run.

“Tarr will handle her,” Rogan said.

“In only two days’ time you have come to know my brother-in-law, but then you are similar, both patient, cunning, and understanding when necessary.”

Rogan turned away from her. “Do you need help in collecting the plants from your garden?”

She had meant to compliment not insult, but he seemed annoyed, and rather than question him, she ignored it. She had argued enough with her sister over issues that she had already decided upon. This matter was for her to handle, whether anyone liked it or not, and that included her husband.

“I need no help,” she said, annoyed. “Do I appear fragile?”

He looked her up and down and grinned. “Not at all.”

Her cheeks flared red.

His grin grew wider.

“I do not need you. I do not need my sister. I do not need anyone. Go away and leave me be.” She dropped down on her knees and went to work in the soil.

A moment later she was startled to find herself abruptly and unexpectedly hoisted to her feet. Rogan gripped her arm and brought her nose to nose with him.

“Need me or not, I am your husband and I am here for you and I will remind you of that often. I want you to know—nay, I want to you to
feel
—how much I love you.”

He kissed her then, like a man trying to prove something—and he did. He proved that no matter what doubts she might harbor concerning their love, she could not doubt her desire for him.

He ended the kiss abruptly, to her regret, and rested his forehead to hers. Their breathing was labored and their passion tittered on the edge, about to tumble over.

Rogan released her gently, stepped away from her, and not saying a word, he turned and walked away.

Aliss collapsed slowly to the ground, her chore forgotten, her mind ruled only by passion. How could she desire a man who had betrayed her? It made no sense. She should hate him, not want him.

He had used her for his own benefit then claimed to love her.

She shook her head. No matter how much she attempted to rationalize the situation it made no sense to her and she was exhausted by the thought of it. It occupied her mind to the point where she had barely considered anything else in the last two days, and that troubled her. She had made a bargain with him as she had done when they had first met and she had set to work healing his people.

Six months was their bargain this time and so be it. The time would serve a good purpose. She would use it to heal herself and build her future on the Isle of Non, no matter how difficult and painful a task it turned out to be.

“Aliss.”

She looked up and smiled. “Anna. What is wrong?” she asked, seeing the distress on the young girl’s face.

“I have tended the ill as best I could these last couple of days, but there are many who prefer to see you.”

Aliss stood in a flash. “You should have come to me sooner.”

“You have been preoccupied with all that is going on and neither I nor anyone in the village wished to disturb you.”

“Nonsense,” she declared. “I am a healer and that comes before anything. Tell anyone who wishes to see me to come right away. I am here for them.”

Aliss was glad to see a broad smile chase away the young woman’s worry.

“I will tell them right away.” She turned to leave. “Oh, Hellewyk warriors, too?”

“There are those in the Hellewyk clan who require a healer?”

Anna nodded vigorously. “One man told me he insisted on coming to rescue you just so that he could seek your help.”

Aliss dusted her hands off, reminded of her duties as a healer to both clans. Besides, busy hands kept a mind occupied, and right now, she needed a reprieve from her troubled thoughts. “I will clean up while you go tell them all that I am ready to see them.”

“I will help,” Anna said.

“If you are busy, I can tend some of them.”

After seeing over a dozen ailing people with a dozen more waiting for her, Aliss was grateful that Anna had remained to assist her. The ailments and complaints were mostly minor and could easily be remedied, but it took until just before the evening meal to finish treating them all.

Fiona had stopped by to help but looked annoyed when she saw Anna and left with a frown. Aliss realized her sister felt as if she had been replaced. She had often assisted her when necessary. Aliss laughed as she recalled how William, one of the Hellewyk warriors Fiona had treated before, had commented that Anna had a gentler touch than Fiona. He had whispered it as if afraid Fiona would hear, though she had been nowhere in sight.

Yet she had seen that same man show respect and admiration for Fiona’s courage in fighting beside Tarr and his men in battle.

When she finally finished, she went in search of her sister. They needed to talk before they parted.

“Where are you going?” Rogan asked, startling her as she rushed out of the cottage.

“To see my sister.”

“I will wait to sup until you return.”

She nodded and hurried off, wondering if she had agreed out of habit. At the moment, spending any time with him rankled her. Her hurt was too new, too painful, and yet so was the thought of not seeing him. Lord, but love was difficult.

Fiona sat by a small fire, a rabbit on a spit cooked almost black.

“It is too close to the flame,” Aliss said, sitting down beside her.

“You were the one good at cooking, not me.”

“You were the one good at defending, not me.”

Fiona shrugged. “We balance each other. The young woman Anna is a good helper.”

“Not as good as my sister.”

Fiona turned and smiled. “You seem to have made a life here, to my surprise.”

“To my surprise as well,” Aliss confessed. “At first I was so very frightened, but I could hear you in my head guiding me, encouraging me, insisting I could survive until you came for me.”

“You never doubted I would come for you?”

“Never!”

“I really helped you?” Fiona asked.

“Endless times. I would hear you in my head especially when I was most frightened or when I questioned my own decisions.” She smiled. “I could hear you tell me that I should kiss Rogan if I were ever to know how I felt about him.”

“I guess the kiss worked. He does look after you,” Fiona admitted grudgingly. “I heard him talking to a woman about food for you when you finished with your healing.”

“You know me when I am healing. I do not think of sleep or food or anything.”

“Do you love Rogan?” Fiona asked.

Aliss gazed down at the flames searing the meat. “I don’t know. I thought I did; he was so kind and thoughtful. But now?”

Fiona reached for her sister’s hand. “What do you want?”

“I want to keep my bargain with my husband and see what comes of it.” She paused. Did she dare hope that he would prove his love? “And I want you to encourage my efforts to do so.”

“I want you to be happy and safe, though I wish the Isle of Non were closer than several hours away.”

“There will only be a distance between us if we let there be,” Aliss said.

Fiona squeezed her hand. “Then there will never be a distance between us.”

“Never,” Aliss agreed.

Fiona jumped then quickly placed Aliss’s hand on her stomach. “The babe is surely a warrior. He seems to forever battle in my stomach.”

They laughed and began to talk about the babe, the birth, and much more, while feasting on the burned rabbit. The sun had settled and the village had quieted when Aliss gave her sister a hug and returned to the cottage.

When she was a short distance away, she realized that Rogan waited supper for her. She had forgotten—or had she not wanted to return to the cottage?

It was difficult to continue as his wife when so much was uncertain. She would have preferred to be done with it all, and yet that would mean losing him, or would it? Did she actually harbor a spark of hope that the mighty warrior would battle to save their love?

She sighed, frustrated by the barrage of thoughts that refused to allow her some peace, and entered the cottage, stopping short when she heard voices. She proceeded down the hall to the end and turned, entering the room, surprised to see Tarr and Rogan sitting at the table.

Tarr raised his tankard. “Finally, the women are finished.”

“Tarr informed me you feasted with your sister,” Rogan said. “So I invited him to feast with me.”

While the two seemed amicable Aliss knew the two men were doing what any good chieftains would do—getting to know their enemy.

“Join us?” Rogan asked.

A yawn gave her the excuse to decline his offer; she felt the men were better left to themselves. She bade them good night, and after changing into the soft linen shift she climbed into bed ready for sleep.

Her mind intended to torment her with issues that would find no solutions this night and she tossed and turned until, frustrated, she kicked off the covers and let out an exasperated moan.

“Trouble sleeping?” Rogan asked, slipping out of his shirt as he entered the room.

She had hoped to be asleep before he came to bed, and feeling the coward for hiding, she quickly diverted the conversation. “No, did you and Tarr fare well?”

He slipped naked in bed beside her. “We waged no battles.”

“But formed no friendship?”

“Be grateful we played our parts as chieftains well.”

“Could you call him friend one day?” she asked.

“Does it matter to you?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” he asked and turned on his side to face her.

“It is better to have many friends than many enemies.”

“You worry about me?”

His query caught her off guard. “I do not wish you harm.”

“What do you wish me?”

She stared at him, unable to answer.

“You do not know?”

Finally, she found words. “I thought I had known. I thought I had known you. I believed you.”

“You can still believe me.”

“After you lied to me?”

“In time you will—”

“Will learn the truth and hate you even more?” Her words were harsh to her own ears, and distraught by her outburst, she jumped out of bed and ran to the other room, tossing herself down on the narrow bed.

Rogan gave her barely a minute before he appeared in the doorway. She stared at him. He stood there like a proud warrior ready to do battle, his nakedness his armor, his determination his weapon.

He walked over to her, grabbed her around the waist, and flung her over his shoulder. He returned her to his bed, tossing her down and coming to rest over her. He locked his fingers with hers, spreading her arms above her head.

“’Hate’ is a strong word, Aliss. Are you sure you hate me?”

“Don’t!” she warned, realizing his intentions.

“Let us see how much you hate me.”

“Rogan, no,” she cried out, too late.

He captured her mouth though she tried to avoid his lips. It was a savage kiss that meant to prove her a liar, and it did. It fired the blood of both to a feverish pitch that soon had her writhing beneath him.

Rogan moved to nibble at her ear. “I told you the choice is yours. Do you want to make love with me?”

Damn him and damn herself for responding to him. Of course she wanted to make love.
Love!
Not make lust with him.

“No,” she spat.

He released her hands and grabbed her chin. “Be careful that your stubbornness does not lose you something you will regret.”

He rolled off her and turned on his side away from her.

Aliss lay there, her body aching for him, her mind admonishing her for her stupidity and her heart hurting as she had never known it could.