Read Highland Wolf (Highland Brides) Online
Authors: Lois Greiman
Tags: #Highland Romance, #Historical, #Highland HIstorical, #Scotland, #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical Romance, #Scottish History
Highland Wolf (Highland Brides) (40 page)
"No! I'll kill him!" Tara tried to escape, but Fiona held her in a hard grip.
"You are not God," she rasped. "You don’t decide who lives and who dies. But love is a gift of God. More powerful, mayhap, than any other force on earth. I'll not stand by and watch my son die while ye deny yers."
The room fell silent. Fire blazed in Fiona's eyes. The truth burned in Tara's soul. Somehow she stumbled forward and fell to her knees.
"Roman." She whispered his name. "I'm sorry. I'm so very sorry. I did not mean to love you. I tried my best to resist but..." She laughed. The sound was warbled and painful. "You wouldn’t let me." She gripped his hand, leaning over his chest to speak into his face. "I tried to leave you." Tears dripped down her cheek and onto his hand. "Every one of me tried to leave you. Or tried to make you go away," she whispered. "You should have gone while you had a chance, but you were too noble. You had to save MacAulay. You had to save me. Thus, you tricked me into coming. You didn’t wish to die in England you said. But you would have survived. I see that now. And mayhap I saw it then, but I couldn’t bear to let you go. I told myself I came with you to see you safe to your homeland. I told myself I would leave when you were here. But it was only my weakness." She sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. Leaning forward, she kissed him. Tears fell on his eyelids, his nose, her hair where it fell upon his cheek. "Please forgive me. But I love you—more than life itself."
* * *
Tara sat in numb silence. Her admission of love had only made her pain more intense. Mayhap that was why she had denied her feelings so long—to save herself from the agony love caused.
Night ground toward morning. He wouldn’t survive the night, Fiona had said.
Why had she not been allowed to die under Dagger's sword, Tara wondered. She had lived a life of crime, but surely she didn’t deserve to watch him die. Surely not that.
A glimmer of light appeared at the narrow window of the infirmary. Tara turned toward it.
He would not survive the night!
The words rang in her mind. She tightened her grip on his fingers.
"Please!" She croaked the word. Tears fell on their clasped hands. "Please don't go without me. Please! I'll—"
His fingers twitched in hers. Tara's breath stopped in her throat.
"Roman?" She barely dared breath the word. "Roman?"
"Lass?" He opened his eyes slowly, then lay perfectly immobile, staring at her. "Am I in heaven?" His voice was a hoarse whisper.
Tara shook her head, unable to find her voice.
"Ye are here?" He raised his hand to touch her damp cheek. "Ye are here," he murmured, awe softening his words. "But I thought—I thought I had lost ye. Dagger..." He shook his head.
A sob wrenched Tara's chest. She clasped Roman's hand to her chest. "Dagger is dead. You killed him."
"But he killed
you.
I saw him. Ye were lost to me. I thought to die, too, to follow ye to the hereafter."
"No," she whispered. "I’m alive. But I've been a coward, afraid to admit my feelings for you. Afraid of losing you. But I see now that if I don’t risk, if I don’t admit the truth, I've already lost you." She pressed the back of his hand to her tear-drenched cheek. "I am yours, Roman, for as long as the Lord gives us, if you'll have me."
Chapter 29
“Oh, m'lady, ye look lovely," crooned Fiona's daughter as she stepped into the solar.
Tara turned. She had met Rachel two days before, when they had first arrived at Glen Creag, Roman's home. It had been only three weeks since Roman had awakened. During that time she had barely left his side. He had mended with miraculous speed. With a Highlander's speed, he had said, and refused to delay their wedding a moment longer.
Their wedding! Tara pressed damp palms against the skirt of her gown. It was mulberry red, shot with threads of silver, and seemed no more real than anything else that had happened in the past month. "Do you think Roman will be pleased?" she murmured.
"Ye jest," Rachel said. At fourteen, she was taller than her mother, but no less exuberant. "Ye look like a flaxen-haired angel."
Guilt twinged Tara. She was far from being an angel. But Roman loved her. And though that knowledge still terrified her, she couldn’t leave him, not for a thousand fears. "Unlike most angelic beings, I wear scarlet instead of white," Tara said.
Fiona rose from her place by the window. 'The color suits ye," she said."'Tis rich and alive and—"
"Tara. Oh!" gasped Flame, stepping inside and closing the door quickly behind her. "Ye look as bonny as a rose."
"Roman will swoon," Rachel said.
"When have you ever seen your brother swoon?" Fiona asked.
Walking over, Rachel reached out to puff up one of her mother's bright yellow sleeves. "Hawk says Roman swoons every time he sees Tara."
"Hardly that," Tara said, but a thrill of happiness tingled through her at the words. Not since childhood had she had a family. She knew they only accepted her because of Roman. He loved her. And because of that love, she would change. She would become one of this kind, extraordinary family. If she could be the Shadow, she could do that. Couldn't she?
"Hawk says Tara's more dangerous to Roman than a thousand swords, 'cause he forgets to breathe every time she's near," Rachel said, turning her head but still standing close to her mother.
"Hawk needs a wife before..." Fiona began, then, "Rachel, what are ye doing?"
"Oh!" Rachel stomped her foot and dropped her mother's cross back around her neck. It was a simple piece, made of wood and wire. "I can never steal anything proper. Liam said I wouldn't be able to."
"Liam?" Fiona asked.
Tara froze. The breath left her lungs. Who was she fooling? She was a thief and a liar. Love was not a panacea. It could not make her belong here. The truth flashed through her mind like a blazing star.
"Aye, Liam," Rachel said. "He is forever pinching my hair ribbons right off my head. I'm determined to learn his tricks. Tara..." She turned, entreaty in her eyes. "Will ye not teach me the skill. Roman says you're the best thief there is."
Tara couldn't breath. Roman had told his sister that she was a thief, and now his lady mother would know as well. They had known from the start that her background was dubious, but the truth was so much worse.
The room was silent, then, "How could you say such a thing?" Fiona asked. Her tone registered shock.
It would be in her power to refuse this union, Tara knew. She waited, hands formed to fists.
“I but thought..." Rachel began.
"'Tis her wedding day," Fiona reminded. "Mayhap she'll have time to teach you to steal tomorrow. In the meanwhile..." She ushered her daughter toward the door. "I can give ye a few pointers. Did I tell ye my uncle Peter could filch your teeth right out of your head. Why, I remember when I was a postulate to the holy order of Mary I lost my cross and... Well, perhaps I should tell you that tale when you’re older.”
"Oh, 'tis a reminder to me," Flame said suddenly. "I brought ye something." She hurried across the floor to uncurl her hand. A fine string of pearls gleamed with a cool luster. '"Twas the strand Fiona and Leith gave me when I married Roderic."
Tara's head was swimming. How could they accept her into their perfect lives knowing what she was?
"'Tis beautiful, Flame, but..."
"But I had hoped she would wear something else," Roman said from the doorway.
"Roman!" Rachel said, outraged, "Ye cannot come in here. 'Tis a lady's room."
He stepped inside. Dressed in ceremonial plaid and a fine, burgundy doublet, he looked like a king. A healthy king, whole and hale and safe, if still a bit stiff from his wounds. Tears sprang into Tara's eyes.
"Roman," she said, a sob in her throat. He rushed across the room to take her in his arms.
"Dunna cry, lass."
"It seems since I've started crying 'tis all I can do."
"All is well, my love."
"All is too good," she murmured.
"Nay, na for ye," he vowed, and kissed her. Lightning struck her lips. Eternity opened its arms.
"Fiona, have ye seen ..."
Tara remembered they were not alone and managed to pull herself back to reality. From the doorway, Roderic grinned like a golden devil. He held a small blanket-wrapped bundle to his shoulder. "Roman, I'm shocked. Such goings-on before the nuptials."
"I would hate ta think what it would take ta shock ye," rumbled a voice from the hall. Leith entered, squeezing past his brother to stare at the couple wrapped in each other's arms. "Ahh." His brows rose. "Roman ye're—"
"A wise lad," interrupted Roderic.
"Aye," Leith said, looking resplendent, and opening his arms which were soon filled with his wife and daughter. “I taught him everything he knows. Lassies, we be ready ta venture down ta the hall, if our guests be ready for the radiance of yer beauty." They squeezed through the door as one, but in an instant, Leith stuck his head back in. "Ye two, dunna be too long."
Roman nodded, his face characteristically sober before he turned back to Tara and kissed her again. The caress was a hint of paradise, deepening, lengthening.
"Do ye think he'll survive this kiss, me love?" Roderic's voice was very near.
"He'd best survive," Flanna said. "I would hate to think I allowed William to ride Lochan Bairn for naught."
Roman drew the kiss to an end and turned an irritated scowl on his uncle. "Dunna ye have something better ta do, Roddy?" he asked.
"Better?" Roderic asked, then, "Oh, aye," he said, and pulling Flanna into a one-armed embrace, kissed her.
It was some time before she called an end to it, and when she did, her voice was husky. "I think Roman may have been hinting for privacy, my love."
"The hell with privacy. The lad's old enough ta watch," Roderic growled and tightened his embrace.
Flanna placed a finger to his lips and laughed. "I meant privacy for them," she said, nodding toward the others.
"Ahh." He turned toward them. "We could teach them how 'tis done."
"Ye've always been generous with yer knowledge, Uncle," Roman said, still scowling.
"Aye, I have, lad."
"Now get the hell out of here."
"He's an ingrate," Roderic said, then turned to the tiny bundle in his arms. "But I'll repay him; I'll save all yer bonny smiles for meself, wee Ramsay. Ahh, Flanna," he sighed, turning to his wife. "Ye are a wonder. Have I thanked ye yet?"
"Many times," Flanna said.
Roderic kissed her again. "Come, I'll thank ye more thoroughly in private."
The door closed. The room fell into silence.
Tears of joy stung Tara's eyes. How had she fallen into such happiness? It seemed to flow over her in warm waves, making her need to do something, to say something, or burst with the emotions.
She cleared her throat. "Your family—" she began, but in an instant, Roman's fingers covered her lips.
"’Tis too late ta back out now, lass. Ye vowed ta marry me."
She stared at him.
He scowled. "I know they're strange. But ye'll get used ta them if ye give them a chance."
She couldn't help but laugh. "Compared to my own kinsmen they are saints."
"I'm told David has returned to Firthport. It seems he would disagree where your half sister is concerned."
"He's gone back?" Tara asked, paling.
"Aye," Roman said. "But do na worry, lass. 'Tis said that Harrington has learned the idenity of the thief who first stole his mother's ring. 'Twas his own son, desperate to pay his gambling debts. Lord Harrington has had time to consider his false assumptions and reassess MacAulay's character."
"Mayhap he will decide the Highlander is not so ignoble as he once thought, for I have surely learned that and much more," she said softly.
"I love ye, Tara O'Flynn," he murmured.
Tara closed her eyes, letting the shiver of euphoria seep to her soul. "And I love you, Roman Forbes," she whispered, a lump catching in her throat.
He drew back slightly, so as to look into her eyes. "Me wife," he whispered. "Forever and always."
"Aye." A tear slipped from her eye, but she didn’t wipe it away. "And beyond."
"Ye own me heart," he whispered. "Me person is yers. I am na longer just Roman Forbes. Nor am I the Wolf. I am yours—Ye own me, body and soul, the good and the bad. And I thought, mayhap, ye might wear a symbol of who I truly am."
“A symbol?" she whispered.
"Aye, 'tis a strange thing, I suppose, lass," he said. "But I would like ye ta wear..."
He lifted his hand to his chest, moved his fingers, and finally sighed before pulling her back against his body and staring over her head into space.
"Me amulet," he said in a monotone, "ye've stolen it again, haven't ye?"
"I like to share," Tara whispered, and smiled against his chest.
***
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