The Bewitching Twin (14 page)

R
ogan stood on the bow of the ship that rose and fell with the swelling waves and stared at the approaching isle. A white sandy shore greeted them and a rocky terrain followed behind, attached to lush green land dotted with trees that thickened to woods.

Hills speared the gray sky, capped by a fine mist that would probably grow thicker with the approaching storm. Rogan had wasted no time this morning; the scent of a squall was strong in the air. The ships were ready and the people willing. They set sail soon after sunrise knowing it would take, weather permitting, until evening to reach the isle.

He had dreamed and planned for this day for years. Unfortunately, his victory tasted bittersweet. He had known a strong love with Kendra, but his love for Aliss was nothing less than profound. He had not even known when he had fallen in love with her. He could not say it had been sudden, though it had been unexpected.

He only knew now that he did not wish to live without her. He had six months to prove his love to her. Six months to speak the truth and wonder if she would hate him even more because of it.

He cringed at the idea that Aliss could hate him. He had known she had spoken with anger last night but her words still cut deep. He had hoped she would understand, but then she did not know the whole of it. He was not sure he wanted her to know all of it. Some secrets were better left buried.

He had wanted so badly to make love with her last night, show her how much they truly loved each other. She had wanted to just as badly, but he had given her a choice and he would honor his word, no matter how difficult. He hoped with time her hurt would pass and she would see that their love had survived, had always been there and would never go away.

If not?

He pushed the painful thought from his mind. He would not visit it again. He was a warrior who had claimed victory in many battles. He would claim victory in this battle or die trying, but he would not—would not let Aliss go.

“We land soon?”

He turned to Aliss, her face pale and her body trembling.

He reached out and drew her into his arms, resting her face to his chest.

“I am not a good sailor.”

“The sea is not pleasant today even for a seasoned sailor,” he said, feeling her arms slip around his waist and hold on tight. He hugged her to him, wanting to ease her discomfort yet knowing only land beneath her feet could do that. “We will touch land soon.”

She moaned. “I am so grateful and jealous.”

He chuckled. “I heard your sister, as you bade each other good-bye this morning, tell you how much she enjoyed sailing.”

“And she is with child. It is not—” She pulled away from him.

Her face was deathly pale and he knew she was about to be sick. He grabbed her around the waist and hauled her to the side of the ship, gently bending her head over the side.

Waves rocked the ship and sea mist sprayed her face and dampened her garments but he held her firm. He did not intend to let the sea claim her. She belonged to him.

She fell into his arms when she finished, drained from her ordeal. He wrapped his arms around her and carried her to where Anna sat with a few other women. They moved to make space for her.

“I will be back to get her once we reach shore,” he told Anna. “Make her stay here. The landing will not be an easy one.”

Anna nodded, looking pallid herself.

“It will be over soon,” he assured Anna and looked over to Aliss, who had yet to open her eyes. “Keep watch on her.”

Rogan walked off, directing the men to make ready to land. He had hoped they would beat the swelling waves but they were rising fast. It was a tricky feat to land the ship in such hazardous conditions. Sometimes men were lost, ships damaged.

He yelled out instructions and the men obeyed knowing their lives depended on it.

The sea seemed impressed with their well-orchestrated maneuvers and the swells eased enough for the men to jump into the rough waters, ropes attached, and make preparations to get the ship on shore.

With time and effort, poles were made ready, the men took their places, and they heaved in unison to pull the ship onto the waiting poles and roll it onto shore away from the angry sea.

Rogan went directly to Aliss, who was sitting up, color still drained from her face. “Time to touch land.”

She reached out to him like a child who was being rescued and he grabbed her, scooping her up into his arms.

“You can rest on shore while everyone disembarks,” he said, walking to the side. With ease, he jumped off to land with a solid thud on the sand. That she had not flinched at his actions pleased him. Whether she believed it or not she trusted him, at least to a point.

He settled her on shore away from the frenzy of unloading a complete clan from two ships and warned her to stay put. Did he think she would?

He shook his head. She had not responded but once she began to feel better, he had no doubt she would pitch in and help. And damn if he did not admire her tenacity.

Rogan formed groups to see to the unloading. The women and children would rest while the men cut a path through the woods to the village, then the moving would begin, if they could beat the impending storm.

Rogan and his men were ready for the trek, while a few of the men had been designated to find game for tonight’s meal.

He was not surprised to see Aliss join his troop that would slash a path through the wilderness, a satchel slung over her shoulder and her healing basket on her arm.

“I suppose I cannot dissuade you from joining us,” he said, pride for his wife’s stamina beaming in his smile.

“Your observation is keen and allows us not to waste time,” Aliss said with a glance to the foreboding sky. “I would say we have little time before the storm hits.”

“Are you certain you do not wish to remain with the women and children and follow once the path is cleared? Our pace will be quick.”

“Then you will keep match with mine.”

The men around her laughed and Rogan signaled to begin the journey, with Aliss and he trailing behind several of the men whose swords swiftly saw to opening a pathway.

“You will tell me if you grow tired.”

“Is the village that far inland?”

“No, but your cheeks have yet to regain their color.”

“Do not worry,” she said. “I have land beneath me now.” With that, she picked up her pace and Rogan followed.

The village was not far, no more than a twenty-minute walk once they entered the woods. The woods had reclaimed remnants of a path over time. The men cut away brush and branches and any debris that would hamper the people, carts, and animals that would make their way to their new home.

Decay had claimed several of the cottages and part of the keep, but it was the lush meadow on the outskirts of the village and the fields that meandered around the cottages and the bright green hill the keep sat upon that stole the breath.

It looked as if the fairies had laid claim to it and blessed it with beauty and grace. Even on this cloudy day, the place looked as if it radiated welcome and Rogan knew,
felt,
that he had finally come home.

“Get the clansmen moving,” he ordered. “I want everyone sheltered and provided with food before the storm hits.” He looked to Aliss. “We need to see to the condition of the keep. Most will probably rest there tonight.”

To their surprise, the keep had decayed little. The massive wooden door needed its hinges repaired and the rooms required intense cleaning. The furniture needed repairs and the kitchen required at least several days’ worth of heavy work.

Aliss shivered. “I think we should get fires started.”

Rogan went to her and touched her blouse. “You need to shed these damp garments.” He took her hand. “Come let us find a suitable bedchamber. I will get a fire going in the hearth and you can change into dry clothes.”

They found an impressive one that connected with a smaller one. It held a large bed and four thick, tall posts anchored each corner. The headboard’s design had been scorched into the wood in an intricate pattern. The mattress needed stuffing and was devoid of bed linens, and a lone chair, its arm broken, sat next to the cold fireplace.

“Stand over by the bed,” Rogan ordered, and after Aliss moved away, he picked the chair up and smashed it to pieces against the floor. He then used the splintered wood to start a fire in the hearth.

He turned as Aliss slipped out of her skirt, having already discarded her blouse. Her body shivered as she attempted to slip on dry clothes. Rogan hurried to her side and helped her dress, then he took her over by the fire and, standing behind her, he vigorously rubbed her arms and shoulders with his hands to warm her.

He tried not to think of her as she had stood there naked in nothing but her sandals, but the vision refused to leave his mind. Her nipples had puckered from the dampness and her breasts sat round and firm.

Damn, but he wanted to suckle the rosy buds and run his hands over the gooseflesh that had popped out all over her. And where she kept her legs tight together, he would tease with his fingers, or better, with his lips. Then he would—

Rogan silently cursed himself.

How the hell he would make it through six months without making love to her, he did not know. What other choice did he have? He had given his word.

That did not mean he couldn’t tempt her every chance he got. Was that fair to her?

Anything was fair if he did not want to lose her.

He hugged her back against him and rubbed her midriff, his fingertips brushing beneath her breasts. “Warm enough?”

She eased away from him. “Much better, thank you. We better see to lighting other fires and I will start with cleaning up the great hall so that there will be a place to eat and sleep for everyone.”

He nodded and kept his smile at bay. “Good idea.”

His smile broke free after she rushed from the room. His touch had affected her, as he knew it would. He would be patient and seduce his wife slowly while making certain she knew he loved her with all his heart.

The rain began just as the last cart was rolled into the village. The women had joined with Aliss in cleaning the hall, scrubbing the tables and floor and cleaning the hearth before a new fire was lit.

Two cauldrons were hung from hooks over the flames and soon the scent of rabbit stew permeated the air. Chatter and laughter resonated in the room along with the squeals of playing children.

Aliss took a moment to watch the joyous scene from the shadowed corner. These people of varied origins had worked their way into her heart in a very short time. They were family to her and she was proud to be part of them.

“Hiding?”

Aliss jumped, startled by her husband’s silent approach and his arms slipping around her waist. “Admiring,” she said, and stepped to the side out of his embrace. “Don’t you agree?”

He was smiling as he drifted out of the shadows. “Definitely.”

“Come,” he said, holding his hand out to her. “It is time to address the clan.”

“You do not need me for that.”

“You are my wife. They expect it.”

She wanted to argue that they all knew of the bargain between their chieftain and her so why bother to pretend otherwise. But then this was a joyous occasion and she did not wish to ruin it for anyone, not even herself.

She took his hand.

“Clansmen!” Rogan yelled as they walked out of the shadows.

The room broke into a resounding cheer.

A tankard of ale was shoved into Rogan’s hand and one into Aliss’s hand.

Rogan raised his tankard. “To the new and
permanent
home of the Wolf clan.”

Cheers, hollers, and whistles sounded for several minutes.

Rogan raised his tankard again and all turned quiet. “To peace with our neighbors.”

More cheers and whistles.

A tankard went up in the crowd and all turned as Ivan stepped forward.

“In honor of our chieftain and his wife, without whose courage, strengths, and skills we would not be here.”

The cheers were deafening, the foot-stomping made the rafters shake, and tears filled the women’s and old men’s eyes.

“Time to celebrate,” Rogan cried out above the roar.

Soon everyone was enjoying the delicious hot stew and fresh bread.

Thunder roared, lightning split the sky, and the rain poured down, but no one cared. They were safe and happy.

The celebration ended early, everyone exhausted from the day’s journey and everyone excited about starting their new lives tomorrow. Rogan would decide who got which cottage; the clansmen were confident that their leader knew them well enough to make wise choices. Land needed clearing and planting; though it was late they could get at least one crop in and harvested in time to see them through the winter.

All of it, however, would be a labor of love so it was with grateful hearts the Wolf clan sought their makeshift beds and the keep finally turned silent, the only sound the fire crackling in the hearth.

Aliss had changed into her night shift and stood by the window watching the rain.

“Come to bed. It has been a long day,” Rogan said.

She turned. Her husband lay naked beneath the fresh bed linens she had dressed the bed with. The soft green wool blanket rested just below his waist and he held his hand out to her.

She had tried to stop admiring his nakedness, but it was no use. She enjoyed seeing him nude, his body ever so appealing to her eyes and her senses. And she feared if she climbed in bed with him at this moment, she would attack him and demand he make love to her.

Tired as she was, she still wanted him. It made no sense but there it was and she refused to surrender to her traitorous feelings. She had to remain aware of his betrayal. How he ever thought to convince her that his love for her was real, she didn’t know.

“I am enjoying the rain.” She hugged herself.

“You are cold.”

“No!” she shouted as he threw the covers back. “I am fine, stay where you are.”

Had she heard a laugh? She was not certain.

“Go to sleep,” she ordered. “I will be to bed soon.”