The Daring Twin Page 4

  “What reputation?”

  “I heard she is a skillful horsewoman as well as a talented hunter. She can handle most weapons as well or better than a man and she protects her sister like a mountain lion would her cub. I knew then that Fiona would protect her children with her life and that was the type of woman I wanted as the mother of my children.”

  “These could be tales and not truths.”

  “Nay, I heard enough to know them as truths.” He smiled slowly. “I particularly enjoyed the story of a young lad named Edward who challenged Fiona to an archery competition. He claimed he would win and in so doing gain Aliss’s hand in marriage.”

  “He was stupid.”

  “And embarrassed from what I was told. It seems Fiona beat him badly, and he foolishly accused her of cheating.”

  “Which is why Fiona had to thrash him senseless.”

  “Your clan tells the tale with much spirit and pride, the men demonstrating how fists flew, and Edward found himself sprawled in the dirt with a bloody nose, then Aliss came to his aid.”

  “A healer does that, which is what started the whole mess in the first place. After Aliss tended a minor abrasion for Edward, he fancied himself in love with her, though Aliss made it clear to him she did not feel the same way. Fiona made Edward understand the error of his presumption.”

  “You are a beautiful woman.”

  Fiona seemed taken back by his words and shook her head while her eyes turned wide.

  “Aye, you are beautiful. The tales speak of the twins’ beauty, many claiming that the raging red hair provides Fiona with her fierce passion to defend and Aliss with her fierce passion to heal. I wonder what other passion Fiona possesses.”

  Fiona froze as Tarr leaned over the table, cupped her chin, and brought his lips to hers.

  Chapter 5

  Fiona’s senses returned like a splash of cold water to her face, and she jerked free of Tarr. “You presume too much.”

  “A kiss from my future wife is not too much to ask,” he shrugged.

  “Do not play foolish games with me, for you will surely know defeat,” she snapped, and grabbed for an apple to slice since she momentarily toyed with the notion of using the knife on him. “If a kiss is the type of tactic you plan to use in determining our identities, you are doomed to fail.” She more shredded than peeled the fruit.

  “What makes you think it was the kiss I assumed would help me?”

  She stilled the knife and stared at him, her irritation growing in leaps and bounds.

  “Reaction reveals much about a person.”

  Fiona continued her peeling at an alarming speed, furious with herself for not being more alert to his intentions.

  He rested his arms on the table. “Your actions now tell me you are annoyed, a response more associated with Fiona than Aliss.”

  Fiona bit her tongue to prevent from lashing out at him and sliced at the apple hard, thinking it his head. Pain seared her finger and she looked down to see her blood spilling over the apple.

  Tarr immediately reached out to grab her hand.

  She pulled it away from him. “I can see to my own care.”

  Tarr shook his head and snatched the clean cloth wrapped around a pot. “You are a stubborn one,” he said as he handed it to her.

  “My reaction disappoints you?” She took the offered cloth and wrapped her finger, then stood. “Be careful of what you wish for in a wife, Tarr. You may just get her—then what will you do?”

  Fiona marched out of the hall, her annoyance obvious in every step she took, and she did not care one bit. She took quick steps in a rush to see her sister. She ignored the two dozing guards at the bedchamber door and entered the room.

  Aliss looked up from where she sat in a chair near the hearth grinding herbs in her pestle. Raynor remained unconscious in the bed.

  Fiona held up her wrapped hand. Her sister rushed to her side.

  “What happened?” Aliss asked anxiously, directing Fiona toward the light of the hearth.

  “Do you know what he did?”

  “Tarr did this to you?” Aliss asked incredulously, carefully unwrapping the cloth.

  “Nay, I did it to myself, but it was his fault.”

  “He must have made you awfully angry for you to cut yourself. You are too skilled with a knife for such a foolish blunder.”

  “I was damn foolish.” Fiona plopped down in the chair.

  Aliss pulled the small wooden stool in front of her sister and went to work on tending her wound. “Tell me what happened.”

  “He tried to kiss me.”

  “Oh dear!”

  “It was not the kiss that upset me, but rather his intention that infuriated me.”

  “His intention?” Aliss shook her head.

  Fiona eyes sparkled like fiery emeralds. “He wished to see my reaction.”

  Aliss looked up. “So the kiss was but a ruse.”

  “He did not want to kiss me.”

  “Did you want him to?”

  “Nay,” Fiona answered hastily, and turned away to stare at the flames in the hearth.

  “Fiona,” Aliss said gently.

  Fiona slowly shook her head at her own idiocy. “I grew excited at the thought of his kiss. I was foolish.”

  “No you were not,” Aliss insisted.

  “I was,” Fiona said stubbornly. “I thought he wanted to kiss me and that I would taste my first kiss. How silly of me. I let down my defenses and suffered for it, but never again. I am more wise to his tactics now.”

  “You have a right—”

  “I have no right to be stupid.”

  “But you have a right to find love,” Aliss argued.

  “It was a kiss, nothing more,” Fiona said defensively. “You have been kissed.”

  Aliss laughed gently. “A few pecks by young inexperienced lads do not qualify as kisses.”

  “But they were enough to let you know someone cared, had feelings to take a chance and steal a kiss, if only a quick peck. I have known no such demonstrations of feelings.”

  “You wanted Tarr to want to kiss you?”

  “No—yes.” She tossed her hands up. “I told you I was foolish. Why would I even consider kissing him? I have no wish to wed the likes of him.”

  “He is a handsome man and a fine warrior. Why not share a kiss and see if you like it?”

  “And what if I did like his kiss?” Fiona asked. “What then?”

  “That would be up to you.”

  After Fiona retired to the bedchamber they were to share, Aliss remained vigilant at Raynor’s bedside. She had made a soothing potion that would help remove the crusted blood on and around his eyes more easily, though it remained a tedious task.

  She had to repeatedly and gently bathe his eyes, especially his long dark lashes. When he woke she wanted him to be able to open his eyes without difficulty, for fear he would think himself blind.

  His features held an air of familiarity: a strong defined chin that most certainly meant he was a stubborn one, and creases between his eyes, which attested to a man with heavy thoughts. His face was round, his flawless skin sun-drenched, and his hair auburn.

  It would be interesting to see the color of his eyes.

  She jumped as her wrist was suddenly grasped.

  “I cannot open my eyes. Where am I and who tends me?”

  His grip promised punishment if he did not care for the answers. Aliss realized that he was much too alert to have awakened from a deep sleep, and he must have roused earlier from unconsciousness, listened to his surroundings to ascertain his whereabouts. His only recourse was to hold her prisoner to gain knowledge of his capture.

  She remained calm and spoke soothingly. “You are in Tarr of Hellewyk’s keep. I am Aliss, a healer, and you shall have your sight back if you allow me to continue bathing the crusted blood from your eyes.”

  He did not release her, though his grip loosened. “My eyes were injured?”

  “Nay, it was a blow to your head that
produced so much blood. I stitched it and it will heal with rest.”

  She felt his hesitation in letting go of her, but finally his hand dropped away.

  “I am not in the belly of Hellewyk’s keep. It is a soft bed that cradles me.”

  Aliss returned to gently bathing his eyes. “Tarr’s choice.”

  Raynor grinned. “I think not, fair lass.” He winced as the cloth caught on a chunk of crust that refused to budge.

  Aliss felt his twinge and quickly apologized. “I am sorry. I meant you no pain. My tiredness makes me clumsy.”

  “I will bear any pain if it returns my sight. I beg that you continue.”

  She understood he felt vulnerable not being able to see, and her heart went out to him. “I will work until I can keep my eyes open no longer.”

  “You are surely an angel.”

  “A simple healer is who I am.”

  “Nay, your touch is beyond gentle, your voice heavenly, and your skin smooth to the touch. You must be an angel sent from the heavens to rescue me, and I look forward to seeing your lovely face.”

  “You may scream in fright,” Aliss teased.

  “I will gaze in amazement on true beauty.”

  “Do you charm all women as you attempt to do with me?”

  “Intelligence and beauty, I am impressed.” He yawned.

  “You should rest. Your head wound needs it,” she said with concern.

  “I do not want to return to the deep sleep I fought so hard to escape.”

  “No one knows you have awakened. You are safe for now.”

  “I am safe with you by my side.” His speech slowed as sleep crept over him.

  “Then worry not and rest.”

  Before his eyes closed, he whispered, “Do not leave me, Aliss.”

  She worked until she began to nod off to sleep. A few times Raynor had stirred, reached out and touched her arm, then settled once again in slumber. She thought he would not wake again until morning, a mere few hours away, so she stretched her back ready to stand.

  His hand instantly found her wrist. “Do not go.”

  Before she could reassure him, he drifted back to sleep, though his hand remained around her wrist. Try as she might, she could not break free of his grip unless he woke, and she did not want anyone to know he had regained consciousness. Her eyes grew heavy from the exhaustion she had kept too long at bay. She had little choice. She rested her head on Raynor’s chest and fell fast asleep.

  Chapter 6

  “Let go of my sister or I promise you will feel my knife spear your worthless heart.”

  Aliss woke to Fiona’s threat and to a pair of arms hesitant to release her, though they drifted slowly off her.

  “When did he wake?” Fiona asked, helping her sister to stand.

  Aliss stretched her sore back and arms. “Sometime last night and he did not threaten me.”

  “A wise choice, and one he would do well to remember unless he wishes me to make good on my promise.”

  “An angel who has the devil as a sister,” Raynor said fearlessly.

  Fiona leaned over him. “The devil will also be tending you, and I dare say her touch is not near as gentle as the angel.”

  Raynor’s laughter was mixed with a groan. “I fear you not. The angel will not let you harm me.”

  Fiona rolled her eyes at her sister.

  “Your silence tells me I speak the truth and have nothing to fear.”

  “How do you get people to trust you so quickly?” Fiona asked, stepping away from the bed in fear of throttling the injured man.

  Raynor answered her. “Her heart is honest and pure. There is anger, though courage, in your heart. You both are easily distinguishable.”

  “It is a good thing he is not Tarr,” Aliss said.

  “Sounds as if you do not favor Tarr,” Raynor said, sounding pleased.

  “That is none of your concern.” Fiona pressed a finger to her lips, warning her sister to be careful of what she says. “We must go, Aliss.”

  “You cannot leave me, Aliss,” Raynor protested.

  “She most certainly can,” Fiona informed him.

  “You are presently my eyes. Do not leave me to suffer in darkness.”

  Aliss sat on the bed beside him.

  “Touch her and I keep my promise,” Fiona warned, and received a scathing look from her sister. She shrugged it off and kept her hand on the hilt of her sheathed knife at her belt.

  “I will not be long. I will return with food, and once you have eaten I will again tend to your eyes,” Aliss assured him.

  “How long before I see again?”

  “Hopefully by the end of this day,” she said. “I will leave a soaked cloth over your eyes in my absence, perhaps it will help.” She examined the stitches on his head. “Your head wound heals nicely. There are no signs of impurities and only minor swelling; with rest you should heal better than I anticipated.”

  “You thought I would not survive?”

  “You were unconscious. I could tell nothing.”

  “Yet you refused to give up on me.”

  “It is the healer in me,” Aliss said.

  “It is your pure heart,” Raynor corrected.

  “Enough,” Fiona snapped. “We need to go.”

  Aliss placed the water-soaked cloth over his eyes. “I will not be long.”

  Fiona hurried her out the door and down the hall. “Tarr waits on us for the morning meal.”

  Aliss stopped her sister before they descended the stairs. “I do not know if it is wise to tell Tarr that Raynor is awake.”

  “Tarr has a right to know his enemy is alert. He could, with his eyesight restored, prove dangerous. I know you fear Raynor’s fate, but Tarr is right when he says Raynor sealed his fate when he chose to attack us.”

  “I will inform Tarr that he stirs and may wake soon.”

  “Once his vision is clear you tell Tarr or I will.”

  “Agreed,” Aliss said, satisfied. “Now, let us hurry; I am starving.”

  “Heavenly words to my ears and my rumbling stomach.” And with a dash Fiona challenged her sister to a race, both laughing as they entered the great hall at the same time.

  Tarr acknowledged them with a nod before returning to his conversation with Kirk. The twins were left to enjoy their meal and talk by themselves, which suited them perfectly.

  Aliss ate more than usual, doubting she would have enough time to eat again before the evening meal. She had to tend to Raynor, and while he rested she hoped to see how the other wounded warriors were fairing.

  “Calm yourself.” Fiona whispered a warning. “You look ready to take flight.”

  “I have much to do.”

  “Tarr probably has plans of his own for us. He has made it clear enough he will see this ruse of ours finished soon, which means we must, under all circumstances, remain alert not only to his watchful eye but to our actions.”

  “You do better with Tarr than I do, and since he cannot tell us apart, he has no idea which twin he spends time with. He can spend all the time with you and not even know he has held company with the same sister repeatedly. All you need do is act differently at times and he will never know.”

  “Why do I get stuck with him all the time?”

  Aliss lowered her voice to a bare whisper. “Because you would kiss him if given the chance, where I would not. And I think you should find out if perhaps Tarr would make a fine husband.”

  “I look for love, he does not,” Fiona reminded her sister.

  “Love can strike even the most uncooperative man.”

  “Ladies,” Tarr called out, startling both women. He stood and walked toward them. His smile started slow and languished as if uncertain, then suddenly it burst free and spread across his handsome face along with a devilish glint that sparked his eyes.

  Fiona responded instantly, a smile bursting out before she could stop it.

  “It is a fine morning for a walk. Who will accompany me?” He did not give either one a
chance to respond; he reached out for Aliss.

  Fiona could detect the panic in her sister, though she contained it well enough. Tarr did not notice that her smile was forced and that her eyes pleaded with Fiona for help.

  Fiona struck with a curt remark. “Good, I had enough of your company last night.”

  “You both play this game well. I admire challenging opponents,” Tarr said, and tugged at Aliss’s hand so that she would stand, and as she did he brought his face close to hers. “Perhaps we shall share another kiss today.”

  “I warned you last night that you go too far if you think I will willingly kiss you,” Aliss said.

  Tarr released her and frowned at Fiona.

  She fought the smile that lurked beneath the surface. It did her heart good to see him unsure of his own choice. “I have an ill prisoner to tend.”

  “I think not,” Tarr said. “You shall be the one to accompany me on a walk.”

  “Are you certain?” Fiona asked. “You appear indecisive today.”

  “You think to befuddle me, but it does not work. I know whom I ask to walk with me,” he said firmly.

  “Who is that?” Fiona challenged.

  He reached out and grabbed hold of her hand. “A twin who will rue the day she has challenged me.”

  Fiona was almost out the door when she turned her head and grinned mischievously at her sister.

  “Where do we go?” Fiona asked as they left the keep.

  “To show you the strength and wealth of my clan, and have you understand why I need to wed a woman of equal strength.”

  “I would be honored to view your holdings,” she said sweetly, and his brow knitted. “Perhaps I can offer you advice on how to run your holdings more efficiently.”

  “You think yourself capable of leading a clan?”

  “I know myself capable of leading a clan,” she smiled, and sauntered on ahead of him.

  The day was overcast though warm for autumn. Soon enough the weather would change and daylight would grow shorter. The clansmen and women were busy gathering the last of the harvest and seeing to repairs to their cottages before winter set in.

  Fiona waited for Tarr to catch up with her, then she walked beside him in silence. She needed no one to tell her of the strength and pride of the Hellewyk clan. It was there in everything she saw from the well-maintained cottages and fields to the excellent weave of the cloth the clan’s people wore, to the healthy animals grazing in the pens and the delicious smells wafting out of cottage windows. Hellewyk was obviously a prosperous clan.