Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 99593 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99593 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
“Aye, my lord. Aye,” she said confused and sat.
Why hadn’t he shoved her down on the chair? He had done so many times when she had not moved quickly enough for him. Why not do so now? And how was it he seemed a bit taller, his chest a bit wider?
She cast a hasty glance his way.
He scowled at her in warning, and she quickly looked away.
The tables were ladened with food and drink and soon chatter and laughter filled the room. Tales were told about the victorious battle and how Lord Torrance would soon rule over much of the area. He had even managed to save his half-sister, Autumn, threatened by a Northern tribe and befriend another tribe’s leader, promising to send him a wife.
A chill ran through her, hearing that. What poor lass would be sacrificed for his promise?
She was startled when his face was suddenly next to hers. If she turned, she was sure her lips would brush his. The thought roiled her stomach. His kisses had felt more like punishments, his lips pressed so hard against hers that she could barely breathe.
“Look at me, wife,” he ordered, his voice low and touched with menace.
She turned slowly, trying to avoid their lips from touching, but he was too close, and her lips grazed his like a feather faintly brushing across them. She was surprised by the startled look in his eyes that quickly turned to annoyance.
“Why aren’t you eating?” he snapped.
Esme struggled to find an accuse that would appease him.
“Have you been ill?” he demanded.
“Nay. Nay, my lord.”
“Then eat,” he ordered. “You are too thin.”
She was glad he turned away and didn’t see the shock on her face that she failed to hide. She had expected him to admonish her for just the opposite. She hurried to turn her head so as not to be caught staring dumbfounded at him. Did he not see the fullness in her face?
A servant had, Gwen, she had remarked about it one day, keeping her voice to a whisper so no one could hear her and repeat her words to Lord Torrance.
It was barely a few words she murmured but Esme heard the warning in them.
“You have rosy, full cheeks, my lady.”
Later, when in her bedchamber, she pressed her hands to her cheeks and felt the fullness and taking full stock of herself, she realized she was not as slender as when she wed Torrance, six moon cycles ago. She had feared what he would say, and yet, he had just accused her of being too thin.
The night wore on and with it grew more outrageous tales of the victorious battle, many laughing about the cowardly actions of the Clan MacLeish. They claimed that Chieftain Ryland had been carried off the battlefield half dead and now laid near death in his bed at home.
Esme cringed, knowing that her husband would wait to see if Chieftain Ryland survived and if he did, he would take great pleasure in executing him in front of his clan. She had seen Chieftain Ryland the few times he came to speak with Torrance to try and settle their disagreements and avoid a battle. She had even spoken with him and had suffered abuse from her husband for it. She was amazed at how much Ryland resembled Torrance. They could be twins and though they looked alike, they were vastly different. Both were powerful men and skillful with a sword. But Ryland had a calmer nature unless pushed. She had learned that on Ryland’s last visit. His discussion with Torrance had nearly erupted into an altercation. Oddly enough, Esme believed that Torrance would have lost if a fight had ensued and she wondered if he believed the same since he told Ryland it would be the battlefield that settled their dispute.
A sudden yawn had her covering her mouth with her hand. She wished she could retire to her bedchamber, but it wasn’t her choice when to take her leave. It would be a long evening of revelry for her husband and his warriors, so she settled in to make the most of her situation and tried hard to keep herself from falling asleep.
She jumped at the sudden burst of laughter.
“Wife!”
Esme eyes flashed open, and she sprang forward in her chair and had just enough time to turn her head and brush her husband’s cheek with hers to avoid their lips from meeting.
“You embarrass me,” Torrance scolded. “You fall asleep while courageous tales are told about my victory.”
“Please forgive me, my lord,” she said, tired of endlessly asking for his forgiveness.
“Go. Take your leave. Retire to your bedchamber,” he ordered. “We will speak tomorrow.”
“As you say, my lord,” Esme hurried to say, relieved to be spared the remainder of the evening, but mostly because her husband did not order her to his bedchamber.