“I did,” he confirmed with a nod. “That big fellow was here and I am a warrior. I did not want to appear weak in front of him.”
An excuse, she wondered.
“I see your doubt and I do not know how to make the truth of my words made known to you. I can only give you my word as a warrior that I would be a good husband to you.”
“You drink too much,” she said.
Rory scratched at the back of his neck. “That I do, but mostly because I’m lonely. I laugh and drink with the other warriors because there is no one waiting at home for me. No one to greet me with a hug and a kiss. None to wrap myself around in bed. I cannot promise you I will not drink, but I will try if that is what it takes to marry you.”
Strangely enough, Elysia believed him and she empathized with him. She knew loneliness for the first time in her life with her sisters gone.
“I know I am not much to look at, but I am strong and can provide well for you and I give you my word that I will keep you from harm.”
Rory did not possess fine features, too many sharp angles, but it was no chore to look upon him. He kept himself clean enough and he kept his deep brown hair cropped just above his shoulders. Though he was tall and broad, he was lean with muscle rather than thick. And while that should have made him appear less intimidating, it didn’t. He had a commanding stance about him and the deep lines between his brow reminded her of how much he scowled. That meant he was angrier more often than not. Could that be due to loneliness?
She realized then what he truly wanted. “You want to be loved, Rory.”
He stared at her moment, words failing him, then he said quietly. “I was loved and I lost her.”
Elysia’s heart went out to him. Rory was trying to find what he once had and lost. And though she truly did not have Saber, somehow she felt the loss of him deep in her heart.
“I am sorry to hear that, Rory,” Elysia said, her words sincere.
“Give it thought, Elysia,” Rory said and turned away, stopping abruptly upon seeing Saber a few feet away.
Saber approached and Elysia took note of his regal stance and the way his chin tilted with just enough confidence and command that one would never think him a farmer.
Rory surprised her again when he approached Saber without hesitation, and she ventured outside to catch Rory’s words.
“You might want to keep your visit with Elysia outside. People are talking.” Rory turned to Elysia. “We will speak again.” He walked off, not looking back.
Saber went to the worn table a short distance from the cottage and sat on one of the two benches there.
Elysia wished she could feel relieved that he did, but she didn’t. It meant they would have no chance to share another kiss. And though it was wrong of her to think that, her heart told her otherwise.
“Let me get your brew and syrup,” she said, hurrying past him.
That he didn’t object stung some, but he was right in minding Rory’s warning and she was a fool to think otherwise. If he cared for her at all, he would make it known and request to wed her. And he didn’t.
“Your throat feels better?” she asked after she joined him at the table and he had finished some of the brew.
“Aye,” he said.
She smiled, glad to hear the gentleness in his voice and the ease in which he spoke.
He gave a nod back. “Rory.”
“He made his intentions known and presented a compelling reason. He is lonely and wants a wife.”
He turned his head away for a moment but not before she caught the hint of sympathy in his eyes.
The thought had her asking, “Do you ever feel alone, Saber?”
A terrifying screech filled the air and Saber shot off the bench and rushed to stand in front of her, his hand going to the knife at his waist.
“HELP! HELP! MY BAIRN!” a woman screamed.
Elysia jumped up and Saber stepped aside as a woman came barreling around a cottage carrying a lifeless bairn in her arms.
Elysia ran to her. “What happened, Roanna?”
“I turned away for a moment and when I turned back, she was gagging, gasping for a breath and then she collapsed in my arms.”
Elysia took the little lass, barely two years, and hurried to the table with her.
Saber cleared a section off for her to place the lass down.
“Please. Please, Elysia, I beg do not let my daughter die.”
A barrel-chested man came running toward them, yelling his daughter’s name. “CYBILL! CYBILL!”
Roanna threw herself at her husband and his arms shot around her to hold her tight. “Neil! Oh God, Neil!”