However, for the first time since losing her hearing, Abigail felt a niggling worry that the priests might actually be right. Because in addition to imagining she heard Talorc once again shouting her name during climax, Abigail had also heard the howling of a wolf.
Her stomach cramped at the implication of her mind playing such tricks on her.
She covered her face, wishing she really could hide so easily from what ailed her. She couldnt and pretending never made reality any easier to bear in the long term. Fighting back the tears, she made herself face her fears. She had not gotten this far by giving in at the first sign of adversity.
The voices in her head were simply one more thing she had to hide from those around her. It was not as if imagining she heard her husbands voice, or even that of a wolf, could cause her or the Sinclair clan any harm. In some ways, it was no different than being deaf.
It did not make her a demon instead of the angel Talorc claimed her to be. It didnt! But how she wished she had her sister here to talk this over with, or some way to correspond with the abbess.
Loneliness swamped Abigail, but she refused to acknowledge the low feeling. Forcing herself to face the day before her, she crawled from the furs and stood to survey the bedchamber. She was gratified to discover a pitcher of what must be water beside a large wooden bowl already half-filled with it. Both sat under the window on a small table that had not been there the day before.
Who had thought to provide her with such a kindness?
It didnt really matter if it had been Talorc or Guaire who had thought to provide this most welcome nod to civility; Abigail was just thankful someone had.
She wasnt surprised she had not woken when the table was brought into the room. She had discovered that her tendency to wake at the least sense of someone nearby had flown the first night she slept in Talorcs arms. Her husband made her feel safe. She did not even feel any anxiety at the thought that someone had been in the room while she slept. They would not dare to be there without her husbands sanction.
If only he could protect her from her own weaknesses.
What would she do if the voices in her mind persisted? What if they got worse? Could she risk having children, knowing that her mind was so unstable?
Abigail tried to banish the unanswerable questions, but the implications of this new affliction plagued her through her ablutions. Her worries grew until her hands shook so badly it took three tries to get her pleats to stay tucked into her belt, much less straight.
This would not do. She had to get ahold of herself. She could not change her circumstances; she could only pray she did not hear the voices again. With that thought firmly in mind, she left the room.
Abigail was halfway down the steps when she sensed she was being watched.
She looked away from the steps in front
of her toward the great hall. At first she thought it was empty, everything was so still. Then she noticed the old man who had vocalized his displeasure at Talorcs marriage the day before. He was glaring at her from his place at the far end of the nearest banquet table. And if looks could catch fire, she would be singed for sure.
She tried a tentative smile, but his glower did not waver. Already upset by her earlier thoughts, Abigail came close to stumbling on the stone steps but caught herself in time.
Suddenly, Niall was there. He said something to the old man Abigail could not catch. The gray-haired warrior frowned at her and shook his head.
Niall looked up at her, his own disapproval evident. Talorc said you were to be accompanied coming down the stairs.
Im perfectly capable of walking down a set of stairs, she said, but she could tell by his look that she had not projected her voice enough to be heard.
Wonderful. She put her hand against her throat and tried again, glad the vibrations grew stronger, which meant her voice was louder.
Sure enough, Nialls confusion cleared, but he did not look appeased by her words. He crossed the room and was taking the stairs two at a time before shed come down two more steps. His features set in implacable lines, he put his arm out to her.
She rolled her eyes but accepted his assistance and allowed him to guide her down the stairs. When they reached the bottom, she saw that Guaire and Una had arrived. She smiled at her new friend and tried not to frown at the woman who had been less than pleasant the day before.
Regardless of Unas attitudes, Abigail was relieved to see that she was still acting as housekeeper to the tower. At least, that was what Abigail assumed the other womans presence with Guaire indicated.
Guaire smiled and nodded at Abigail. Good morning.
It would not have been a good morning if our lady had slipped on the stairs, Niall replied, his displeasure now firmly fixed on the seneschal. The laird gave instructions for his lady to be accompanied at all times.
I am aware of that, Guaire answered, looking just a bit harried. He stepped away from Nialls approaching form in what was probably supposed to look like a subtle maneuver.