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Eleanor had said something similar to her earlier when she had finished helping her get ready for the ceremony. Snow thought it kind of her to say, since she believed she looked little different than usual. A gold-colored tunic covered a deep green shift and Eleanor had swept her hair up in some fashion, though some strands were left free to partially fall along her neck.
“How kind of you, Lord Polwarth,” Snow said and eased her hand out of his upset that she felt a great unease at his unobtrusive kiss.
That was another thing she had given thought to, intimacy with Lord Polwarth. He seemed kind enough, and yet the thought of coupling with him left her feeling unsettled. And now that his kiss to her hand left her feeling uneasy, she worried how she would react to a more intimate kiss.
Did she follow through with this marriage or did she heed Slatter’s words and go live with them and be well-loved?
The door opened and a short, rumpled cleric entered, servants rushing to help him close it, the wind that rushed in with him too powerful for his frail demeanor.
“Gray clouds and wind, another storm brews,” he said, shaking his partially bald head.
Snow placed her hand on her stomach, wishing she could stop the churning from growing worse. Or was her upset stomach an omen she should pay attention to? What was it her mum had often said?
If a decision causes discomfort or doubt, pause and give thought.
In her sadness and self-pity, had she unwisely committed to something that wasn’t right for her?
“It is good we see the ceremony done with haste so that my new bride and I may be on our way home before the weather keeps us here,” Lord Polwarth said.
“But there is the small celebration that’s been prepared,” Willow argued, not ready to let go of her sister.
“I fear the weather prohibits us from lingering. We’ll celebrate another time,” Lord Polwarth said and once again took Snow’s hand. “It is time, my dear.”
Snow let herself be directed where to stand, her mind churning as much as her stomach. Did she want this? Should she stop it?
Did she love Tarass?
A pain so sharp struck her that she thought she’d been stabbed in the heart. There was no denying it, no matter how much she tried. She had fallen in love with Tarass. How that had happened, she had no idea, but she could no longer allow herself to deny it. And finally realizing that made her also realize that this marriage she had agreed to was a mistake.
She was jolted out of her thoughts when the cleric began the ceremony.
She had to stop this, but how? How did she tell Lord Polwarth she didn’t want to wed him?
The door flew open, banging violently against the wall, causing everyone to turn and see a gust of swirling wind and snow sweep in along with a man, the hood of his fur-lined cloak covering half of his face. He didn’t hesitate to toss the hood back.
Tarass stood there a moment, still as a statue, his eyes aglow with fire and his stance one of a warrior ready to attack. His eyes latched onto Snow and strong strides brought him further into the Great Hall. Twelve of his warriors suddenly filed in and followed behind him, dividing into two groups of six that flanked him as he strode forward.
“Snow belongs to me,” Tarass shouted, his voice echoing off the high ceiling.
Shock to hear Tarass’s voice and hear him claim she belonged to him stunned Snow silent. She couldn’t believe he was there. Couldn’t believe he demanded that she belonged to him. And yet, her heart swelled with a sense of joy. She was relieved when she felt Willow take her hand and squeeze it, letting her know she was there beside her.
Polwarth spoke up. “Snow does not belong to you, Lord Tarass, she is about to become my wife.”
To the shock of everyone, Thaw went running to Tarass, yapping all the way, then stopped in front of him, and turned to bark at Lord Polwarth.
“Wise choice, Thaw,” Tarass praised the pup, then called out, “You’re wrong, Polwarth. Snow will not wed you, she belongs to me. She became mine not only on the night we spent together in the cottage in the woods when I rescued her, but the night we slept together in my guest bedchamber,” Tarass said to the astounding shock of all around him.
“You never mentioned that,” James said, when he found his voice.
“You lie,” Polwarth accused.
“Watch who you call a liar, Polwarth,” Tarass warned, his hand going to the hilt of his sword at his waist.
“You never mentioned this before and you expect to be believed now?” Polwarth demanded. “And don’t think to have Snow confirm or deny this. It is inconceivable that you would tarnish her reputation this way.”
