Slaves of Love

Will tipped his glass to his lips, then set it on the table. “I remember how, when I was young, she’d come to visit with her baby daughter.”

“Why don’t I remember any of this?” Keern asked.

Will leaned forward, a wide smile on his face, and tousled Keern’s hair as if he were a little boy. “Because, brother, you were barely three years old.”

Keern ran his fingers through his hair to smooth it back in place. “I still don’t see why he hates us.”

“Because,” Jenna said, “he believed she and your uncle were having an affair.”

Keern’s gaze jolted back to Will, who nodded.

“Uncle Jeb?” Keern could scarcely believe it. He didn’t remember his uncle well -- he’d disappeared when Keern was very young -- but from everything he’d ever heard about him, he’d believed his uncle to be an honorable man. Certainly not someone Keern would suspect of having an affair with another man’s wife.

Keern had always admired Uncle Jeb, especially his sense of adventure. Keern had followed his uncle’s example when choosing to travel across the stars, undaunted by the fact that everyone assumed Jeb had died on some exotic planet, since no one had ever heard from him again.

“I’m not saying he actually had an affair with her,” Will said. “Wakefield was jealous, domineering, and extremely possessive of his wife. She was actually afraid of him.” Anger flared in his eyes.

Jenna placed a hand on her husband’s arm and stroked gently. “Realize he loved this woman and she didn’t return his love. His ego would demand he find a reason to justify her not loving him. Another man was a simple solution.”

“And Uncle Jeb actually did love her.” At Will’s quiet words, everyone turned to stare at him. “He didn’t act on it, but I overheard our mother and father talking. They were convinced he loved her. I’m sure that’s why he left. He couldn’t bear to be so close to her and not be with her.”

“She died of Gahdagha flu soon after that,” Jenna added.

Helena leaned forward conspiratorially. “Or so they say.”

“Helena.” Jenna shook her head. “Those are just rumors.”

“True.” Helena’s fingers toyed with the stem of her goblet. “Some rumors say that Wakefield killed her. Others say that he sold her to the traders.”

Keern leaned back in his chair, disturbed by the turn of the conversation. “That doesn’t make sense. How could a man do that to his own wife?”

Jacob sighed heavily. “You really don’t know Henry Wakefield, cousin.”

The others nodded their heads. Keern’s gut twisted inside. With a father like that, no wonder Shena had learned to be so callous.

Will grinned, in contrast to the long faces around the table.

“I must admit, it would be a lovely irony if you and his daughter had taken a shine to each other and wound up in wedlock. Then our two lands would be joined, but not in the way he had hoped.”

Keern swallowed some wine, pushing aside heart-rending images of Shena joining hands with him in front of a flower-veiled altar, a delicate blush on her cheeks as she leaned toward him for the wedding kiss. A more vivid blush covering her entire body as they joined in the wedding bed. His body tightened, and he longed to feel her gentle curves again, but this time while thrusting into her body. He longed to make her completely and forever his.

Slamming those thoughts into the dark recesses of his mind, he plunked his glass onto the table.

“Talking about wedlock, shouldn’t we be discussing Jordan’s impending doom -- I mean, joining?”

The men roared in laughter under the glares of the women, then began a hearty discussion of the events to come.

* * * * *

Keern awoke with a start. Actually, with a jolting release. He became aware of a warm stickiness on his stomach.

Dehn’ra, another dream about that witch of a woman.

He flung aside the covers and stormed to the window. Moonlight illuminated the rolling hills of unfamiliar land surrounding the manor of Jordan’s new family.

He raked his fingers through his hair.

Over the past four days, Keern had tried to keep his focus on his family and the wedding of his brother. There was much to keep him busy, but still he couldn’t keep visions of his beautiful wood nymph from his mind. How could she have turned out to be such a brittle, scheming woman?