Errol tenderly lifted Tira’s chin to find her soft gray eyes glistening with tears, his heart aching that she trembled with fear…of him.
He had known the suddenness of their wedding might cause her some apprehension, but nothing could have prepared him for the torment in her gaze.
Wondering if there was anything he could say to soothe her, Errol felt his throat tighten as Gavin’s warning aboard ship flew back to him…
Only time will tell if she recovers enough tae want any man near her again.
Och, Errol had no intention of consummating their marriage this night—by God, Tira had just given birth a week past!—or for a hundred nights if the mere thought would conjure such agony inside her.
All he could think of to do was try to find some way to comfort and reassure her, Errol sinking to his haunches so he could look her directly into her eyes.
“Tira, you dinna have tae be afraid. I’ve never known such joy as marrying you this day—after grieving when I had believed you were gone forever. Then you were lost tae me again when wefailed tae rescue you last winter—och, the long months waiting for spring were torture until I could sail tae the Orkneys tae try and find you. All I’ve wanted was tae finally make you my bride and I willna do anythingevertae hurt you. I swear I will love and protect you until my dying breath?—”
“Errol, it isna you, but what he did tae me!” she blurted, tears tumbling down her cheeks grown pale in the firelight. “It isna fair you should have such a wife…sullied and broken?—”
“Not broken, Tira! You’re strong tae have survived and then you gave birth tae not one bairn, buttwo—och, I’ve never known anyone as brave as you.”
Errol rose from his haunches when she shook her head at him, a heart-wrenching sob bursting from her.
“I’m not brave! I wanted tae die! You dinna know…you canna know…”
“Then tell me, Tira…tell me all,” he implored her, pulling the other chair close so he could sit beside her.
Yet she shook her head again, her eyes wide as if she couldn’t believe he would ask such a thing from her—or mayhap it was that she couldn’t look him in the face to reveal such horror.
Errol didn’t think, only acted as he lifted her up into his arms and sank into the chair, cradling her like a child.
Her head against his shoulder, her body tense but he held her fast, Errol murmuring his plea once more as he kissed her rose-scented hair.
“Tell me all, Tira…so I can help you tae bear it.”
She went still in his arms for a moment as if stunned…then another moment, the only sound the crackling of flames in front of them—until a broken sigh escaped her and the words came tumbling from her like a flood.
A heartbreaking, horrible flood that made Errol feel enraged and helpless by turns, Tira shuddering in his arms as he listened to all that she had suffered, all that she had endured…until shewas spent and went limp against him, no strength left in her even to weep.
Errol didn’t move, either, so shaken by what he’d heard that he could only stare unseeing into the now guttering fire, one fierce thought forefront in his mind.
Someday he would kill Thorgren Sigurdson—aye,he swore it! He didn’t know how or when, but he would kill him.
Such an intense wave of protectiveness overwhelmed Errol that he trembled now, too, with fury that any man could be so brutal, so cruel?—
“Errol?”
Tira had stirred in his arms to look up at him, hope filling him that her gaze no longer held unease. Yet there was a dullness that alarmed him and he feared he had pressed her too far?—
“Can you ever forgive me?”
He stared at her uncomprehending, stunned. “Forgive you for what, lass?”
“I-I was so unkind tae you after all you did for me…och, I’m so tired, Errol. So tired…”
Her head fell against him and now Errol rose with her, his alarm increasing that she had grown even paler.
He carried her to the bed and flung aside the bedspread with one hand, wondering now if she might have fainted for how still she had become. Yet when he set her down with great care, he saw that she looked at him with half-closed eyes.
“You must rest,” he murmured, easing the slippers from her feet and then covering her snugly to her shoulders, the bridal wreath knocked askew on the pillow.
He left it there, though, not wanting to touch her further and again see apprehension in her gaze—though he prayed he might have eased some of her distress from her heart and mind.
