Page 2 of Bride Takes a Charmer
Sorsha rose and thanked her. She grabbed Gillian’s hand and led her back outside the tent. “You were right, bun, that was rather silly. I promise you, the only unpleasant thing to happen to me on this day was drinking that foul-tasting mead. Now come along and we shall purchase a piece of sweetened bread to eat on our ride home.”
After they visited the baker’s tent, Sorsha led her daughter to the cart where her husband’s soldiers awaited. Four Chattansoldiers: three horsemen and one cart driver sat by the hostelry but hastily got to their feet when she approached. She hoisted Gillian onto the cart and then crawled onto it. She almost fell to the side when the cart rolled forth. Next to her daughter, she took hold of her hand and smiled.
“’Tis cold,” Gillian said when the wind pressed against them. Fortunately, they had worn their winter cloaks even though it was somewhat warmer earlier in the day.
Sorsha pulled the tartan blanket stored in the back of the cart over their laps and handed the lass half of the sweet bread. Gillian held the bread but didn’t take a bite. “Are you not hungry?” she asked Gillian but her daughter shook her head. Sorsha ate hers and when Gillian handed her piece back to her, she ate that too.
The sun dissipated and the wind grew brisker. Fortunately, the ride home wouldn’t take too long. She wrapped her arm around her daughter’s shoulder and hugged her closely as the soldiers rode ahead. That Gillian resembled her in appearance with her long brown hair and honey-colored brown eyes often brought a sense of pride to her heart. She was grateful that her daughter didn’t resemble her father.
“Did you have fun at the festival this day?”
Gillian shook her head. “I liked it not.”
Sorsha sighed dejectedly. There seemed to be no pleasing her sweet lass because she found little merriment in anything. Gillian squeezed closer to her when they reached the road that led to Tor Castle. There were rumors of the lane being haunted by a powerful spirit. Yet as long as she’d lived there, no spirit had ever shown itself to her.
Thick pines and hefty-needled trees darkened the area, shading it to almost obscurity. The lane had towering trees on both sides which cut off access, and with the roadway set lower, the hillocks beside it were steep. She’d always disliked thethought of being on the road at the darkest part of the night. There was a sense of spookiness about the lane.
“Do you think the spirit is close, Mama? Can you feel the sadness here?”
Sorsha’s chest tightened at her daughter’s questions. “There is no spirit, lass, and no sadness. ’Tis just a dark and lonely road. We’ll pass it soon.”
By the time they reached the gates of Tor, a duskiness set the sky in its early-evening haze. Sorsha thanked the soldiers for their escort and lifted Gillian from the cart. As she entered the castle, she continued to the upper solar. Sounds came from her husband’s bedchamber, but Sorsha needed to get Gillian settled for the night and passed by his door. She wondered who her husband argued with because their voices rose with ire.
Gillian’s nursemaid had been given a day of rest and was nowhere in sight. Sorsha didn’t mind having to look after her daughter and enjoyed the quiet moments with her. After she put her daughter in her night garments, she tossed back the bed cover, lifted her, and settled her in the center of the bed. “Do you wish for a cup of water?”
“Nay, Mama.”
“Are you hungry? You hardly ate any of the food at the festival.”
Gillian shook her head and shifted to lie her head on the pillow at the top of her bed. “Will you tell me the story again?”
Sorsha smiled and pressed her hand on her daughter’s small cheek. “Of course, I shall. I always do, do I not?” She tucked the covers beneath Gillian’s chin and smiled. “The great mountain and the wee squirrel quarreled. The bun said, ‘Little prig, you are doubtless very big and I am but a small creature.’”
Her daughter snickered lightly at her saying “prig”, and Sorsha pressed a kiss on her forehead and continued, “‘Aye, but you are mighty, and ’tis no disgrace to occupy my place. For Iam not as magnificent as you and you are not as uninspiring as I…and not half so spry. I shall not deny that you make a pretty squirrel track for my wee feet to run upon. We differ, we certainly do because I cannot carry forests on my back but neither can you crack a nut.’”
Her daughter sighed and blinked as sleepiness overtook her.
“Sleep sweetly, bun.” Sorsha pressed her palms over her daughter’s brown locks and rose.
Gillian closed her eyes and appeared to drift off to sleep. Quietly, Sorsha left the chamber, closing the door behind her as she approached her husband’s bedchamber. Rodick continued to argue with whoever was with him. Sorsha wasn’t sure if she should interrupt but her interest piqued and she took hold of the latch. As gently as she could, she pushed it and opened the door slightly to see who was within.
When she spotted her brother-in-law, Geoff, she shifted the door wider. Her gasp echoed in the chamber at the sight of Geoff pressing his dagger into her husband. Sorsha rushed forward and pulled Geoff’s hand away, but it was too late. He’d aimed true at her husband’s chest. Rodick’s eyes widened and he drew in a tortured wail and fell to the floorboards next to his bed.
Sorsha knelt next to her husband and the horror of what she’d witnessed burned her throat and eyes. She removed Geoff’s dagger and tossed it away from her. A sound by the door drew her gaze and she spotted Gillian standing there. Her daughter’s eyes broadened with fright. A tormented scream came from her mouth and Sorsha rose to go to her but Geoff blocked her way.
“Let me go to my daughter,” she said in a strained voice full of pain.
“Ye should not have come in here,” Geoff said tersely.
“What have you done?” Sorsha yelled, “You stabbed him.” A sob tore at her throat. Rodick whispered something and sheknelt again and leaned closer to hear. “We shall get help. Fetch the healer, Geoff. Hold on, Rodick.”
“I…am…sorry.” Rodick panted and moaned, “I could…not show ye affection.” His eyes shifted to Geoff and his breath came heavier.
She turned and shouted at Geoff. “Help him. Get the healer.” Her brother-in-law stood aside and made no move to get aid, but watched her with his hooded dark eyes. She turned back to her husband. “Please, Rodick, don’t leave us.”
“Sorry, I…did…not…love ye…” Her husband’s whispered words ceased when his harsh breath fell from his lips. He closed his eyes and his chest stilled.
Sorsha kissed his lips knowing there was no breath there. Covered with his blood, she wept for him and the thought of losing him. She faced Geoff. “Why…? Why would you kill him?”