Page 103 of Bride of Fire
Her blood cooled to a low simmer as she took another bite of the trout pottage. She might not be able to get rid of the troublemaking lass. But knowing Morgan, she could get him to do it himself.
Morgan couldn’t possibly let Jenefer go. Not only because she kept the bairn’s weeping at bay. But because, at the moment, she was his hostage, his leverage against war.
But he couldn’t tell Alicia that. She’d never understand.
He didn’t want to talk about it anymore. So he continued to feed her in silence.
It troubled him to think the attraction between himself and Jenefer was so obvious. Yet in their brief time together in this chamber, even his wife had sensed the connection between the two of them.
Morgan knew, if the clan found out about his indiscretion, none would blame him. Everyone had believed that Alicia was dead, that Morgan was a widower. It wasn’t as if he’d been intentionally disloyal.
He could even forgive himself for falling in love with Jenefer. She’d seemed so devoted to his son, so forthright in her passions, so genuine in her affections.
But now Alicia had sown doubt in his mind. Her words haunted him.
Hadhe been plied by the warrior maid? Had she only charmed his son to make herself indispensable to Morgan? Had she only seduced Morgan to insinuate herself into his life? Had she only pretended to care for him in order to…
His eyes dimmed. The only thing Jenefer had ever claimed to want—nay, demanded to have—was Creagor. Were all her actions only a clever ploy to win his holding?
His heart caved at the thought.
Mostly because it had almost worked.
He’d been ready to marry her, to share his son with her, to bestow his wealth and land upon her.
And now?
Now his mind was filled with mistrust.
He steeled his jaw.
It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. Whatever had happened between them was in the past. Alicia’s return had sealed all their fates. There was no point in dwelling on the motivations behind anything. It served no purpose.
What he needed to focus on was taking vengeance on the brute who’d hurt his wife.
Alicia took one last bite of the pottage and refused the rest with a dismissive hand. She’d always been a light eater, nothing like…
He shuttered his mind against the thought and set the pottage aside.
“Alicia, sweetheart, I need to get that name from ye,” he said gently.
“Name?”
“The man who did…this…to ye.”
Alicia’s face crumpled. “Can’t it wait but a little while?” she begged. “I haven’t seen you for weeks. I want to spend as much time as possible together.”
She peered at him from under her lashes and ran a speculative fingertip across her collar bone. He knew that look, that gesture. It was Alicia’s way of saying she would be amenable to his advances.
“I’ve returned from the dead,” she said. “Is it not a time for celebration and not rancor?”
The plea in her wide eyes convinced him to defer his revenge again. But he knew better than to imagine Alicia wished to celebrate their reunionnow.She would never accede to swiving him by the light of day. She was far too modest for that.
By nightfall, they would make a symbolic renewal of their wedlock, restoring the sanctity of their union. And that was exactly what he needed to forget Jenefer, the fiery temptress who had intruded upon his placid marriage as briefly and powerfully as a bright, destructive spark.
Chapter 47
“We’re going to need weapons,” Jenefer decided, pacing the nursery as she chewed on a piece of barley bread.
