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His words stung and warned that he did not believe they had coupled, that he knew she had trapped him and that he was not happy about it. If she thought there could have ever been at least a friendship between them, she knew now that her deceit had ruined any chance of it.

Bhric stopped abruptly when he reached the top of the stairs, Tavia relieved she had kept a safe distance behind him, or she would have collided with him.

“There was one thing above all I wanted in a wife, one thing I will never have with you.” His dark blue eyes narrowed when he turned to look at her. “Trust. Never will I trust you.”

If a heart could break, Tavia’s did at that moment. Her decision had cost her dearly and she would spend the rest of her life paying for it.

* * *

“I have told you repeatedly it is done, Lord Ivan,” Newlin said annoyed with the man. “And do you forget I denied your request months ago.”

“That matters not. I demand to see Lord Bhric now,” Lord Ivan said, slamming the tankard he held down on the table, the ale splashing over the sides.

“Make another demand in the home of a clan I protect, and I will see you never speak another word again,” Bhric threatened when he entered the Great Hall.

He could tell from one look that the bald, dark-bearded man thought himself important. His good height and thick body warned he could be a formidable opponent, though not for Bhric.

“Lord Bhric,” Ivan acknowledged without a respectful nod. “I am here to help you. I learned that you are unsure of whether to keep the marriage agreement made between you and Tavia. I will gladly take her off your hands.”

“And why would you do that?” Bhric asked and could almost feel his wife tense beside him.

“You are a great warrior, and a great warrior should have a woman worthy of being his wife. Tavia will never have such a worthiness or strength to fulfill such an important position, her permanent limp making her less of a capable woman.”

Tavia stood strong beside her husband, not moving, not blinking an eye, not so her da. He cringed and Ivan saw it.

Ivan grinned as if he had just received a most cherished gift and he spoke with a boldness that had Newlin cringing again. “You did not tell Lord Bhric that his wife suffers a permanent limp? That it will never heal? That she is incapable of doing certain things and will always need care?” He then turned to Bhric. “I suppose you were told it was a recent accident that caused her limp—such deceit.” Ivan shook his head. “Much like the deceit they perpetrated on me, believing ungrateful children instead of believing an honorable man.”

Tavia could take no more. “You are far from an honorable man. You are a liar, and you are cruel. And never, ever would I wed such a horrible man.”

Ivan took a hasty step toward Tavia, appearing as if he would strike her.

Bhric took a quicker step in front of his wife and gave Ivan a powerful shove in the chest, sending him tumbling back and fighting to stay on his feet.

“If you ever dare lunge at my wife again, I will kill you,” Bhric cautioned in such a ferocious tone that it had Ivan taking several steps back though he was already a good distance from Bhric. “Unlike you, I am an honorable man and the marriage arrangement to Tavia remains and has been officially sealed. She is my wife and will remain my wife.” Bhric took a step toward Ivan and the man’s hand went to the hilt of the knife tucked at his waist. “Listen well, Lord Ivan. I have no want to make an enemy of you and your clan, but if you persist in causing the Clan Strathearn any more trouble or bring harm to the people in any way, I will rain a war on you with my Northmen that you will not live to regret. And one other thing you need to remember—when my hand goes to my weapon I do not haste to use it.”

“I will take my leave now,” Lord Ivan said.

Bhric waited until the man reached the door. “Lord Ivan!”

Ivan stopped but did not turn.

“Do not make me regret I let you live today,” Bhric said and when he got no reply, he knew it would not be the last he heard from the man.

“My apologizes—”

Bhric raised his hand, stopping Newlin from saying any more. “I did not expect such deceit from a man my mother thought honorable. The more I learn about you and your daughter makes me wonder why my mother ever thought to trust you or to believe your daughter would make me a good wife.”

Newlin collapsed down on the bench, shaking his head. “It is easily explained.”

“Tell me, for it has puzzled me greatly,” Bhric said.

“Your mother, Lady Orianna, and my wife, Margaret, were more like sisters than close childhood friends. Margaret was present at your birth at Clan MacShane. Orianna promised she would attend Margaret’s first birth as well. When it was obvious that Margaret would not survive the birth, she begged your mother to look after Tavia, and keep her safe. Orianna reminded me of the promise she had made to Margaret when she approached me about a marriage between you and Tavia. She told me that with Tavia married to her son, she could fulfill that promise. And she also told me that Tavia was much like her mother and would make her son the perfect wife.”

“You never told me that, Da,” Tavia said, stunned by the news.

“I promised Orianna I would say nothing, but things have gone so poorly since Lord Bhric’s arrival that I thought it best the truth was finally made known,” Newlin said.

“My mother knew of Tavia’s limp?” Bhric asked.

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