Her stomach rumbled, interrupting both their thoughts.
“You are hungry,” Rhys said, easing her back in the chair.
Her stomach may have grumbled, but it was the hunger that had lain dormant for so long that needed feeding. And she was not quite sure how much it would take to satisfy it.
Rhys stood and held his hand out to her. “The kitchen should be stirring by now. I will have them prepare something for us.”
Heather was pleased that her husband would share the morning meal with her and took his hand to walk with him to the Great Hall. She not only wanted to spend more time with him, she also was looking forward to the next time they would be intimate. And if she could hasten that moment, she happily would.
Sunrise broke just a few moments after they were seated in the Great Hall and food soon found its way to their table. They had just begun their meal when Pitt approached, a frown on his handsome face, though when his eye caught sight of Nessa he smiled at her. Nessa turned away, ignoring him and Pitt’s frown returned.
“Sit, and eat,” Rhys ordered.
Pitt shook his head. “We found the guard. He took a knot to the back of his head and was trussed up tightly. He remembers nothing, thoughhe has been questioned endlessly. There is another problem.”
“When is there ever not a problem?” Rhys said, sounding as if he had expected it.
“It seems the body that was to be disposed of is gone,” Pitt said.
Heather felt her stomach clench and she suddenly felt her appetite wane, though not her courage. She looked to her husband. “Tell me the body you speak of is not Aggie.”
“Though it does not concern you, wife, it is not Aggie we speak of.”
“Then who?” Heather asked.
“Again, it is not your concern.”
Heather thought to argue, but it would serve no purpose. Her husband would not tell her, but one way or another she would find out.
Fife hurried into the hall, his eyes darting to Nessa and wide smiles were exchanged between them before he solemnly faced the Dragon. The young warrior’s eyes went to Heather and back at the Dragon’s several times.
Rhys stood and walked around the dais and over to the large stone hearth, Pitt and Fife following. The three men talked in whispers.
When Rhys walked back to the dais, he said, “Remain in the keep while I see to this.” He turned and walked out of the room, expecting her to obey.
Fife followed, though slowed his steps as he neared Nessa. He took a moment to stop and speak with her before hurrying after the Dragon.
Nessa in turn hurried to Heather. “Fife says something has been found in the barn, but he claims it is too gruesome to tell me what it is. I wonder if the wolf has struck again.”
Knowing a wolf had not been responsible for the death of the two warriors got Heather wondering what had happened. “The wolf has not been caught yet?” she asked.
“There has been no word of his capture. If there was, my lady, there would be a celebration. And now with this,” —Nessa shook her head— “everyone will make sure their loved ones are accounted for while wondering what secret the barn holds this time.”
Nessa took off to attend to her duties and Heather sat alone at the dais with much on her mind. She wished her sisters were here so she could talk with them. She missed the many times they would sit and talk for hours. They never lacked for conversation, for there was always something for them to share. She would have liked to confide her suspicions about the Dragon to them. They would keep her secret, even advise her on what to do. They would not think her foolish or laugh at her; they would be happy for her.
Tears tickled at her eyes and she sniffled as she brushed them away with her hand. She would see her sisters soon. At least she hoped she would.
Two warriors entered the room, the taller warrior leading the red-haired warrior to the hearth to be seated. The taller warrior gave the otherwarrior’s shoulder a squeeze as he gave a shout for a servant to bring food and drink. He left once the food was brought and the warrior who remained ate sparingly, his hand going often to the back of his head.
Heather rose and walked over to him. “May I join you?”
He went to jump up and winced, his hand rushing to the back of his head.
“Please stay seated,” she said with a gentle smile and touched the back of her head in empathy. “I know how you are feeling, and sudden moves can be painful.” She sat, asking as she did, “What is your name.”
“Edward and I am so sorry, my lady.”
“Whatever for?”
