Not even his wife? Abigail asked.
Our lady died ten years ago.
That explains it. Hes probably still grieving, Abigail said, clearly tongue in cheek.
The young soldier nodded quite seriously. Aye. That he is. The biggest part of his heart died with her. They were true mates.
It is good for a husband and wife to be friends, Abigail observed, clearly mistaking the meaning of the word mates .
Circin gave Abigail a confused look that went right past her as she studied Talorcs face. He stared back.
Do you agree? she asked, a wistful expression on her pretty oval features.
Twould be enough to wish not to be enemies, was all he was willing to concede.
How could he be friends with a woman born and raised Sassenach ? He would never have a true mate now that he had accepted her into his bed. He would not be able to father children, for a Chrechte could not have offspring with a human unless a true mate bond existed. He, who believed strongly in preserving the Chrechte, would not be able to pass his own wolf nature on to the next generation.
The thought had him surging to his feet. I will take the first patrol.
Abigail paced, her attention drifting to the cavern entrance every few steps. It remained as empty as it had been since she said her good-nights to the warriors and found her way to her and Talorcs temporary sleeping chamber.
Her husband had disappeared at the end of dinner and not returned since. At first, she had been relieved by his absence. His cruel comment regarding not being enemies with his wife being enough to wish for had put her on the verge of tears. Coupled with the way he had ignored her all day to hunt, on foot yet, left her in no doubt about how he saw her.
As an unwelcome interloper.
Just like her parents.
For just a little while, when he had taken such tender care of her after consummating their marriage the night before, she had let herself begin to believe it might be different.
Only, no matter what he had said during the Chrechte marriage ritual about her no longer being English, regardless of how deeply emotional their physical joining had felt to her, he did not care for her. She had been a fool to think one day he might. An absolute fool. The intense physical intimacy that had been so transforming for her had meant less than nothing to him.
She was his enemy. That she was his wife could not cancel out that salient fact.
She could not credit her own stupidity in allowing even a tendril of hope to grow that there might be a place for her among his clan, even once they learned the truth of her deafness. Talorc would be only too happy to use the deception as an excuse to get rid of his unwanted English wife. Just as she had first believed.
She swiped at the moisture trying to pool in her eyes. She would not cry. She would not.
Nor would she have Talorc return to find her pacing with impatience for his arrival.
With that thought in mind, she stripped to her shift and climbed between the furs to force or feign sleep. Either would work, so long as Talorc did not realize how hurt she was to learn her idiotic hopes had been just that.
Chapter 10
She slept fitfully, having kicked off the fur that should be covering her beautiful body. She was wearing her shift, though she had not done so since attempting to the night of their wedding. If preserving her modesty was her goal, she had failed miserably. The undergarment had ridden up her thighs until the pretty blond curls that covered her mound were revealed.
Her shapely legs glowed in the soft light, beckoning him to touch. Everything about his wifes body appealed to his senses and his wolfs nature. Instead of pouting like a little boy deprived of his lifemate, Talorc should be grateful he at least found Abigail desirable.
He hadnt her sister.
He did not know why he had avoided the lovely blonde gracing his furs tonight. Their situation was less her fault than his. He, at least, could have chosen to disregard his kings desires. Again. Abigails stepfather might have offered to refuse the marriage, but the reality was Abigails mother would have made her life even more a misery
if the baron had been fool enough to do it.
And Talorc would have been forced to kill him. After all, he had decided to accept the marriage knowing the cost of doing so from the moment he sent his demands to his king.
Besides, he wanted his wife. One of the few compensations from this ill-conceived marriage was the fact he was free to have sex with her as frequently as they both desired. And yet he had stupidly avoided her for a good part of the night.
It might be past midnight, but he had finally wised up.
Stripping off his plaid, he joined her on the furs, his cock already standing at attention and his wolf clamoring for touch. Talorc reached out and traced the curve of her soft, feminine belly with one fingertip.
Her forehead wrinkling like she was frustrated, Abigail shifted toward him in her sleep. He moved as well, readily allowing their bodies to settle against each other. She seemed to like that as she stopped moving and the lines of her face smoothed to peacefulness.