Page 78 of The Beast's Bride
“Upset … terrified.”
A shadow passed over his face. Taran propped himself up on an elbow and reached for her hand. Wordlessly, he entwined his fingers through hers and squeezed.
“I feel so useless,” Rhona whispered, her vision blurring. She’d managed to keep her upset to herself while with her sisters, but somehow Taran always made her defenses crumble. It was as if he saw right through her shield, to her heart; there was no point in hiding her feelings from him. “It should have been me to wed Budge.”
Taran made a sound in the back of his throat. “And ye would never have been mine.”
Rhona met his eye. “I can’t bear the thought of Adaira going back to Islay with him … he’ll kill her, Taran. Just like he did his last wife.”
Taran’s gaze narrowed. “He swears her death was an accident.”
“And ye believe him?”
A beat of silence passed before Taran shook his head. He watched her, his expression tender, before he released her hand and reached up to push a lock of hair off her cheek.
“Ye are so fiercely protective of yer sisters,” he said after a moment. “Why?”
Rhona drew in a shaky breath and scrubbed at a tear that escaped, trickling down her cheek. “Just before my mother died, she called the three of us to her bedside.”
The memory of that day crashed over Rhona as she spoke. The sight of her mother, frail with sickness, her once lustrous blonde hair strawlike and spread over the pillows that propped her up in her sickbed. The heartbreaking sadness in those hollowed eyes.
“She told me I had Da’s fierce heart … that she would rely on me to look after my sisters. I remember her final words to us as if she spoke them yesterday: ‘Ye will be women one day, in a world ruled by men. And as such ye will have to be doubly strong, sharp, and cunning to survive.’” Rhona broke off there and closed her eyes. “I didn’t know what she meant at the time. But I do now.”
“Yer loyalty does ye credit,” Taran said, brushing away a tear, with his thumb, that trickled down her chin. “It is one of the many things I love about ye … but be careful that it doesn’t tear ye up inside.” He paused there, and Rhona opened her eyes, meeting his gaze once more. “Ye can’t protect yer sisters from the world, any more than ye can hold back the tide or keep death at bay. Things seem bleak for Adaira now, but none of us know what lies in store for her.”
“Ye mean Aonghus Budge might die in his sleep before the handfasting and spare her?” Rhona asked, her mouth quirking. There was wisdom in her husband’s words, and she knew in her heart that he spoke the truth. Only, it was hard to let go of a lifetime’s habit.
“Aye.” Taran smiled back. “Don’t underestimate yer sister either. Ye have seen the change in Caitrin since Baltair fell. Life molds and shapes us, forges us into who we’re meant to be.”
Rhona caught his hand and raised it to her mouth, kissing his fingers. “Taran MacKinnon … how did ye get to be so wise?”
He raised a sandy eyebrow. “Are ye mocking me, wife?”
“No … I’m serious. I think I know who ye are … and then ye say something that surprises me. There are depths to ye I never suspected.”
He huffed a laugh. “There are to most of us … I just choose to share my thoughts with ye.” He sobered then, gazing up at her with a tenderness that made Rhona’s breathing constrict. “I didn’t have an easy start to life, mo chridhe. It shaped me differently to other men.”
My heart.
Rhona’s gaze misted once more; her heart ached with love for Taran. His words eased the guilt and worry that stole away her happiness and cast a shadow over the world. He was right. She would always be there for her sisters, but she couldn’t control their fate. Even their father, powerful as he was, couldn’t forsee all ends. He’d not been able to see that his wayward daughter and the scarred warrior who’d loyally followed him for years were meant for each other. Perhaps his decision to wed Adaira to Aonghus Budge would take a twist none of them expected.
Rhona bent down and kissed Taran, her lips parting his. He groaned against her mouth. When she pulled away, they were both breathless, and the weight that had settled over her shoulders had lifted. “It shaped ye into a wonderful man,” she murmured. “I’m blessed to have ye as my husband.”
The End.
