“You said we would stay together.”
“And we will,” he said, a spark of relief catching in her eyes and feeling it himself.
Her relief faded a moment when she asked, “Your word on it?”
Rannick gave it easily. “You have my word.”
Bliss revisited what had been mentioned yesterday but they had not discussed. “Have you given any thought to the possibility that your other two wives may have met the same fate as Shona?”
“The thought has been on my mind. A riding accident can easily be arranged, but what of a woman delivering a child?” he asked, seeking her knowledge.
“Do you know if there was much blood?” Bliss asked, having given thought to what may have happened.
“Aye, there was,” he said, the image of that day branded into his mind.
“Then it is possible that someone gave your wife a mixture of plants that would cause excess bleeding and certain death,” Bliss explained.
“I would be a fool to entirely dismiss the possibility of it being the curse,” Rannick said, though felt a twinge of hope that with the possibility that the curse had nothing to do with his wives’ deaths that Bliss had a chance to survive.
“The curse does not concern me as much as the fact that the demise of your clan has been in the making for some time,” Bliss said, her mind stirring with a possibility.
“I can tell you have a thought on that—share it,” he urged.
“What if those who supported the Clan MacWilliam gathered secretly and in strength and now seek revenge against those clans responsible for the massacre of the Clan MacWilliam?”
“I never gave that thought since the Clan MacWilliam was decimated. Not one MacWilliam survived.” His brow wrinkled seeing the urgency in her eyes to say more. “I think there is more to your theory than you say.”
She continued cautiously. “There had to have been clans who sided with the Clan MacWilliam but held their tongues for fear of what they would suffer. What if it was discovered that the MacWilliam bairn lived? Would those who once secretly supported the Clan MacWilliam wish not only to protect her but to seek some form of retribution?”
“The MacWilliam bairn is dead. My father saw to her demise, having little choice but to obey the King’s edict, or lose his family as well,” Rannick said.
“What if your father tired of the King’s command, wanted the killing to end, and thus told the King what he wanted to hear?” Bliss asked carefully, not wanting it to sound as though she called his father a liar.
“My father is a man of his word,” Rannick said, his father reminding him of it throughout the years.
“If your father is a man of his word, then why did he turn against a man he had called a friend for many years?”
“They disagreed on what the King intended for the Highlands and that meant war was inevitable unless the unrest could be stopped.”
“Would you turn against Lord Brogan or Lord Odran as your father turned against his friend Lord Brochan?” she asked.
Rannick stared at her. He would defend both his friends without question, but if it meant his actions would risk his wife’s life, he was not sure if the decision would be as easy.
“I believe your honor, your friendship, would have you taking up arms beside them and I would be proud that you did regardless of what we might suffer. I would do the same for my sisters.”
He had thought her foolish for marrying him, but at that moment he realized the self-sacrifice she had made to keep her sisters safe from forced marriages that could have seen them wed to men who could have harmed them.
He, Brogan, and Odran had remained steadfast friends through the years, had fought beside one another, had been there to help one another when no other would, and had chased after a myth together without question. They were like brothers and, like Bliss with her sisters, he would defend them without question. And he was proud that his wife would stand by him if necessary.
At that moment, he realized that it was going to be difficult if not impossible to stop his heart from loving his wife.
Rannick reached out and took her in his arms and she swung her arms up around his neck and lifted her head for her lips to meet his. His lips joined hers for a kiss that was far different than they had ever shared. It was a kiss of commitment that they would see this thing through together.
The sound of rustling leaves followed by horses’ hooves had Rannick shoving his wife behind him and reaching for the axe that laid against the bench. He would fight as many as they sent to keep her safe, but the slow approach of the horses told him he had nothing to fear. Still, he kept the axe firm in his hand.