was meant for her parents, not necessarily for her.
When he looked at her, Talorc's expression showed wariness. There was also distrust, even frustration, though from what, she did not know, but he did not look at her with hate.
She knew that once he learned of her inability to hear, he would reject her as his wife. He might even hate her then, but her choices were meager. If she thwarted the marriage, Sybil would find a way to punish Abigail much more severely than with a single beating. Her only chance at seeing Emily again lay in marriage to this man.
Who might hate the English but did not hate her. "I will marry you."
He nodded as if it had never been in question. No doubt in his mind, it hadn't. He seemed the type of man to get what he wanted and who allowed nothing to stand in the way.
"The Sinclairs do not beat women, but we do kill traitors."
As her mind translated Talorc's words, Abigail felt herself flinch. "I will never betray your clan."
"You give me your word?"
"On my soul." Hiding her affliction was not a betrayal of his people. Indeed, from their lack of welcome to her sister, Abigail was certain the Sinclairs would be only too happy to be rid of her once her defect was revealed. But she would never put the clan at risk or reveal Talorc's secrets, as her mother sometimes did her stepfather's in gossip and in search of admiration from her peers.
He scoured Abigail's gaze as carefully as she had his. Finally, satisfaction gleamed in his amazing blue eyes. "Your mother deserves death for what she did to what is mine."
He was completely serious. He was not posturing. This was no idle threat to impress the English with his might. He meant it.
She shook her head, glad her muscles no longer ached with the slightest movement. "No, please. She believes it is her right to dictate my life and force my will to bend to hers." Abigail was sure it was the same for most parents among the nobility.
"Regardless, my stepfather does not deserve death. He stopped her. He promised to protect me from a marriage that terrified me."
Abigail's throat muscles hurt from all this talking. Sometimes, days and days would go by without her uttering a single word and now she was forced to converse as she once had with Emily. Only she knew Talorc made no effort to read her lips, so she had to modulate her voice to be heard. Even if it was a whisper, it was there.
"He would challenge me over the vicious bitch you call mother?"
Abigail's gasp was not audible to her, but she could feel the expulsion of her shocked breath. "Yes," was all she said though.
"They will never be welcome on Sinclair land. She hurt you. He should have done a better job of protecting you."
"Okay." She did not care if she ever saw her parents again. Emily was another matter entirely. She swallowed for courage. "But Emily, she is welcome on your land?"
"The Balmoral is an ally. His wife is welcome."
"I am glad. I have missed her."
Talorc nodded and then spun on his heel and started walking away. Niall didn't leave, however. He took up a guard's stance a few feet from the cottage. When she looked over at him, he winked.
She smiled back and mouthed a thank-you.
He jerked, as if surprised, but then grinned back before turning to face the front, his expression gone serious, scary even. A few minutes later, two of her father's soldiers joined him, but the big soldier did not leave.
When she checked out the front window, sure enough, she had both a Hamilton guard as well as one of Sinclair's soldiers.
Abigail went to sleep, feeling safer than she had in a very long time.
Talorc stood before the English priest in the small chapel. The MacDonald warriors and most of the English baron's soldiers had to remain outside. His own warriors, the MacDonald and five of his men, his bride's family and a few English soldiers were the only witnesses for the wedding to come.
There were no flowers, no pomp and ceremony for this royally dictated
When he looked at her, Talorc's expression showed wariness. There was also distrust, even frustration, though from what, she did not know, but he did not look at her with hate.
She knew that once he learned of her inability to hear, he would reject her as his wife. He might even hate her then, but her choices were meager. If she thwarted the marriage, Sybil would find a way to punish Abigail much more severely than with a single beating. Her only chance at seeing Emily again lay in marriage to this man.
Who might hate the English but did not hate her. "I will marry you."
He nodded as if it had never been in question. No doubt in his mind, it hadn't. He seemed the type of man to get what he wanted and who allowed nothing to stand in the way.
"The Sinclairs do not beat women, but we do kill traitors."
As her mind translated Talorc's words, Abigail felt herself flinch. "I will never betray your clan."
"You give me your word?"
"On my soul." Hiding her affliction was not a betrayal of his people. Indeed, from their lack of welcome to her sister, Abigail was certain the Sinclairs would be only too happy to be rid of her once her defect was revealed. But she would never put the clan at risk or reveal Talorc's secrets, as her mother sometimes did her stepfather's in gossip and in search of admiration from her peers.
He scoured Abigail's gaze as carefully as she had his. Finally, satisfaction gleamed in his amazing blue eyes. "Your mother deserves death for what she did to what is mine."
He was completely serious. He was not posturing. This was no idle threat to impress the English with his might. He meant it.
She shook her head, glad her muscles no longer ached with the slightest movement. "No, please. She believes it is her right to dictate my life and force my will to bend to hers." Abigail was sure it was the same for most parents among the nobility.
"Regardless, my stepfather does not deserve death. He stopped her. He promised to protect me from a marriage that terrified me."
Abigail's throat muscles hurt from all this talking. Sometimes, days and days would go by without her uttering a single word and now she was forced to converse as she once had with Emily. Only she knew Talorc made no effort to read her lips, so she had to modulate her voice to be heard. Even if it was a whisper, it was there.
"He would challenge me over the vicious bitch you call mother?"
Abigail's gasp was not audible to her, but she could feel the expulsion of her shocked breath. "Yes," was all she said though.
"They will never be welcome on Sinclair land. She hurt you. He should have done a better job of protecting you."
"Okay." She did not care if she ever saw her parents again. Emily was another matter entirely. She swallowed for courage. "But Emily, she is welcome on your land?"
"The Balmoral is an ally. His wife is welcome."
"I am glad. I have missed her."
Talorc nodded and then spun on his heel and started walking away. Niall didn't leave, however. He took up a guard's stance a few feet from the cottage. When she looked over at him, he winked.
She smiled back and mouthed a thank-you.
He jerked, as if surprised, but then grinned back before turning to face the front, his expression gone serious, scary even. A few minutes later, two of her father's soldiers joined him, but the big soldier did not leave.
When she checked out the front window, sure enough, she had both a Hamilton guard as well as one of Sinclair's soldiers.
Abigail went to sleep, feeling safer than she had in a very long time.
Talorc stood before the English priest in the small chapel. The MacDonald warriors and most of the English baron's soldiers had to remain outside. His own warriors, the MacDonald and five of his men, his bride's family and a few English soldiers were the only witnesses for the wedding to come.
There were no flowers, no pomp and ceremony for this royally dictated
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