Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91636 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91636 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
He intended to wed Fiona. She belonged to him, at least he wanted to believe she did—or did he need her to belong to him? He turned and instead of entering his campsite, he wandered off on the outskirts in the dark until he plopped down by a boulder to rest.
He had never equated love and marriage. Marriage was a duty, as he witnessed between his mother and father. He did not remember ever seeing his parents embrace; they lived separate lives and there had been talk that his mother had left his father’s bed after he was conceived.
That his mother had loved him he had no doubt, but she had not loved her husband, and so Tarr grew up believing that love was not necessary to a marriage. He had thought love a fleeting emotion, there one moment gone the next, too elusive to hold on to and too complicated to explore.
He shook his head and rested it against the hard rock. Why had he given love so much thought lately? It seemed to plague him, nag at him relentlessly.
His mother had once told him that love could be felt with the heart. It could bring joy and it could bring pain, but it would not matter for you would never want to let it go.
How would he feel if Fiona was taken from him?
A wave of pure anger washed over him and as it receded, an awful ache settled in the pit of his stomach, not a sickness ache but one that could not easily be defined nor would he want to try. He only knew he had no want of it now or ever.
If he felt this strongly about losing Fiona did it mean . . . ?
Several oaths flew from his mouth, and he punched the ground beside him. Had he fallen in love and not even realized it?
You are an idiot.
Perhaps Fiona had been right, he was an idiot.
He stood and looked to the keep. He had some thinking to do, some conclusions to reach. Some—
He threw his hands up in the air. Who was he fooling? He had fallen in love and was too stubborn to admit it to himself let alone Fiona. And why should she believe him now. She would think his declaration of love a ploy in an attempt to get her to wed him.
Now what was he to do?
Persist in his usual fashion and demand his agreement with Leith MacElder be honored? Then let her learn of his love for her later. Or attempt to make her see reason now? They were made for each other, both being bullheaded, quick-witted and exceptional warriors.
Tarr had no idea what he would do. He knew only one thing. Fiona would be his wife.
Fiona entered the keep mumbling to herself and looked to find a place of solitude, a nook or cranny so that she could be alone to think. She found it in a small barren room kept warm by a fire that burned in the hearth.
She stood before the fire warming her chilled hands, her thoughts on Tarr. With so much news to digest, news that concerned her, she remained focused on Tarr. He invaded her thoughts day and night. There was not a moment she did not think about him.
She knew she was falling in love with him.
Why?
That was a good question. There were many things she admired about him and a few things that displeased her, like the way he ordered her about, demanding she would be his wife.
She hugged herself.
She wished she knew what determined love, how to define it, and why love seemed more complicated than simple.
She had been freed of wedding Tarr; the choice being left entirely to her.
What did she do now?
“What is it you want of me, Fiona?”
Fiona turned as Tarr entered the room and her breath caught in her throat, though she refused to let him see her excitement. It surely had to be love. What else could explain the odd sensation that consumed her every time she saw him? Besides, she was still annoyed with him, but she was happy that he had followed her.
“Do you know?” he asked when he reached her side.
“We agreed to attempt to understand each other—”
“How can I understand you if you do not talk and share your feelings with me?”
“You do not even try to understand my feelings with regards to my sister,” she accused.
“You want me to disregard my decision and appease you?”
“Is that difficult?” she asked. “If it would remove a stumbling block to our being wed, why not?”
“As my wife your duty is to me.”
“That has nothing to do with my sister.”
“You will forever spend time with her,” he argued.
Fiona’s eyes rounded like full moons. “You are jealous of my sister.”
“I am not.”
She smiled and poked at his chest. “You are.”