His Bonnie Bride by Hannah Howell (the beginning after the end read novel .TXT) 📕

stood torn between defending himself against Roden's softly spoken insult and following the man's advice. "I can see where she gets it from," he growled, and strode out of the hall.

"What do ye think his chances are?" asked Sholto after Tavis had gone.

"Storm cannot avoid him with a babe at her breast, and she will try to stay calm since she will be holding a babe. That gives him a good bit of an edge." Eldon grinned. "Then, too, soon as her arms are empty of child, he can jump her. When it comes to wives if all else fails, seduce them." He raised his tankard along with the other laughing men. " 'Twill be a while ere we see those two again."

Seduce was a mild word for what Tavis wanted to do when he saw Storm with Taran at her breast. He shut the door after Elaine's retreating figure and tried not to lunge at his wife. For an instant he was fiercely jealous of his son, whose small hands touched that ivory fullness, whose mouth worked greedily at the nipple and whose plump little body was held so lovingly in slim arms, all of which Tavis ached for. Telling himself not to be absurd, he forced his eyes to meet hers and his mind to think of other things.

The fire was still in his eyes, however, and Storm, recognizing it, felt her body flare in response, which did not please her at all. "Do ye not recognize when a battle is lost, MacLagan?"

"Is it lost? I prefer to think not. Listen to me first, little one. It cannae hurt."

Her gaze fell to her son's head and stayed there. She did not want to listen, but she knew she was caught. Tavis faltered briefly, unsure of how to begin. Taking a deep breath, he simply plunged in.

"I kenned as soon as ye set off after the battle that I had made a verra great mistake. But think, Storm, your father had just aided us in saving our keep no matter what his reasons. Was I to say all that had gone atween us when the blood lust o' battle still flowed hot through all o' us? The blood o' both our families would soon have stained the ground."

"Ye would have me believe ye acted out of noble reasons?" she queried in soft sarcasm.

"Nay, though 'twas part of what held me silent. I will be honest, Storm. I wanted ye in my bed, didnae want ye to leave it, but I didnae ken that I wanted any more than that. Thinking that, I couldnae speak to Eldon. Ye cannae ask a man to let ye use his daughter, his only daughter and firstborn child, as your mistress. I didnae ken what I wanted until ye were gone and then, e'en then, 'twas awhile ere it was verra clear."

"Yet ye sent me nary a word." She put a drowsy Taran in the cradle and began to feed Aingeal.

"What I wanted didnae change anything as I saw it. Ye were still Eldon and still English. E'en had he kenned we had been lovers, your father would nay welcome my suit. An English Marcher lord doesnae wed his only daughter to a Scot, a border reiver, be he of equal rank or nay. Ye cannae fault me for thinking that."

She stared down at Aingeal as she thought over his words. It all seemed very logical. Tavis said nothing, letting her think for a time, for he knew the strength of that particular reasoning. It was all the rest of his actions that would be harder to explain.

"Ye did not grieve long, though, did ye, Tavis."

"I did, lass. From the time ye rode off with your kin until ye appeared to tell me I would soon be a father, I was ill tempered and soddened with drink near all the time. I cursed ye for leaving, then cursed myself for letting ye go. At times I thought ye should come to me while other times I wanted to besiege Hagaleah to get ye back. I hated ye one instant and unmanned myself with the wanting of ye the next, yet kenning that it was all over for us."

Storm stood up, placed Aingeal in the cradle and, with her back toward Tavis, gently washed her breasts. "And so ye decided to bury this grief in the woman who nearly saw to my death at Sir Hugh's hands. Aye, and your babe's too."

"Nay, Storm." He moved to stand before her when she sat upon the bed to relace her bodice. "Kate had come to Caraidland but a fortnight ere ye did. She was all that was sweet and understanding."

"I am sure she was," Storm snapped. "Quite prepared to soothe your much-battered soul, I wager."

"Aye, but I took little notice of it until that day, curse my luck." Storm had abruptly halted her relacing to stare at him, and he fought to ignore the exposed swell of her exquisite breasts. "I spent far too many nights sleeping with the memory of something sweet I thought lost to me forever. Then, too, I was in one of my moods o' hating ye, cursing ye for putting me through such a hell. God's wounds, Storm. I ached for ye, lay awake nights twisting with it. I lived with that ache for three months. Dreams couldnae ease that."

The tone of his voice as well as the fact that he was describing a hell she knew intimately held Storm enthralled. Even so, a cold tongue of fear curled around her insides, fear that he would soon reveal that he had made use of the very available Kate. Understand she might, but that understanding would not lessen the blow.

Tavis read the fear in her wide eyes and reached out to touch her face. He felt a flare of hope when she did not jerk away, but remained still, amber eyes locked with his own. It was proving easier than he had thought