“Bring more wine to my solar,” Rhys ordered as he hurried Heather out of the room. He sat her in the chair by the fire after entering his solar and when he went to release her hand, she grabbed it.
“Do not leave me.”
Her actions had him recalling a similar reaction right here in the solar after she had seen the bodies of the two dead warriors. She had seen too much evil of late, but this time it had been his fault. Rhys took tight hold of her hand. “I am not going anywhere. I just want to add more logs to the fire. You feel chilled.”
“I am,” she said and reluctantly let him go.
Rhys bid Nessa to enter when he heard a knock and as soon as she did, he said, “Leave it. I will see to it.”
Nessa cast a worried look at Heather. She was pale and shivered even with the fire stoked and she wondered what had happened to her. She hated leaving her, but she had no choice. She closed the door quietly behind her.
Rhys filled a goblet and handed it to Heather.
Her hands shook so badly when she took it that Rhys cupped his around hers and helped her drink from it. Afterwards he took it from her and set it on the small table beside her chair.
Rhys did not like that no color had returned to her cheeks and that she continued to tremble. He leaned over and lifted her up into his arms, then sat in the chair, drawing her legs up and tucking her firmly against him.
After a several minutes of stroking her back, she looked up at him and said, “Who would do such a monstrous thing?
“The man I was a slave to for seven years.”
“A slave?” Heather repeated almost choking on the word.
“Aye, a slave, forced to do an evil man’s bidding.”
Fear gripped Heather. “You escaped and now he comes for you?”
“No,” Rhys said, shaking his head. “I won my freedom.”
“Then what does he want from you?”
“What I took from him when I left.”
When he remained silent for several minutes, she asked, “What did you take from him?”
“His wife.”
CHAPTER 21
Rhys had not planned on telling his wife, at least not yet. But he had foolishly let his anger rule, something he had not done in years, and this was the result and a good reason not to let it happen again. He did wonder, though, if his inquisitive wife would make that impossible.
She had yet to respond; she simply stared at him out of shock or disbelief, he was not certain.
So many thoughts rushed through Heather’s head, but only one word spilled from her lips. “Why?”
“She asked me to.”
“Why?”
“Her life was in danger.” Before Heather could ask why again, Rhys pressed his finger to her lips. “I was taken to a land with vastly different customs than Scotland. There, slaves obeyed their masters or suffered horribly for it. Wives suffered much worse fates.”
“Wives?” Heather asked.
“Aye, wives. Masters had multiple wives, all generously provided for unless a wife did not please her master.”
“What happened?”
“It depended on the situation. Some simply disappeared, sent away to be provided for elsewhereif the wife had not displeased him. Those who displeased him suffered greatly.”
