Aliss was glad he had refused their sister. Fiona would have to get used to Rogan sooner or later and she preferred it be sooner.
They spoke not a word to each other and Fiona kept her arms crossed over her chest, refusing to take hold of Rogan. Aliss could only shake her head and walk alongside her husband in support of him.
Another pain had Fiona grabbing Rogan’s shirt. “Stop. Stop.”
Rogan stopped dead and Tarr reached out to take his wife. She buried her head in his chest, while he looked to Aliss with fear-filled eyes.
Aliss went to her sister and spoke softly to her while she ran her hand over her stomach. She felt no hardness, as some women get just before they go into labor.
“Tell me the truth,” Fiona pleaded.
“You would get nothing but that from me,” Aliss said.
“Then what is it? Have I harmed the babe by traveling here?”
“You may have disturbed him and he simply protests, or he may be getting ready to birth sooner than expected. Either way, I would suggest you do not return home. It would be safer for you to remain here until the babe is born.”
Fiona looked to her husband. “I am sorry. I know you would have liked for your child to be born on your land and in the bosom of your clan.”
“As long as you and he are all right, it matters not,” Tarr assured her with a sweet kiss. “Now let’s get you into bed so you may rest as Aliss ordered.”
“She suggested. She didn’t order me,” Fiona corrected.
“Do I need to order you?” Aliss asked firmly.
Fiona shook her head. “No, you are right.”
“What did I hear?” Raynor said, hurrying over to them. “Did you say Aliss was right?”
“Enough from you,” Fiona said. “It is your fault that I am here in the first place.”
“Your stubbornness brought you here,” Raynor said, walking alongside her.
“Our concern for our sister brought me here.”
“Not another word!” Aliss ordered. “Fiona, you need to rest and not worry.”
“You heard her,” Tarr said firmly.
Raynor drifted off, Tarr marched forward with his wife in his arms, and Aliss turned to her husband.
“You have remained silent through this all.”
“This is between you and your sister,” he said, reaching out for her hand and curling his fingers around hers. “And as Tarr reminded us all, the choice is yours.”
She drifted up close to him. “It is an easy choice and you helped make it so.”
“Aliss!” Tarr called out.
“Go see to your sister,” Rogan said. “We can talk later if you like.”
She stared at him a moment and tentatively touched his cheek. He was good to her, patient and understanding. She did love him and want to remain his wife, and soon, very soon, she would tell him.
He took her hand and kissed the palm. “Go and worry not about us. It is your sister who matters now.”
Aliss kissed his cheek. “Until later.” She hurried off, a sudden feeling of happiness attacking her without provocation. Rogan made her happy in so many different ways. The realization startled her and yet brought a smile to her face. His courting had worked much better than he ever imagined and he had topped it with the truth when he had taken her to his secret boyhood haunt and confessed his past anger.
She would choose to stay with Rogan, be his wife, the mother of his children. He had been truthful with her and she would remain with him.
Fiona was settled with a modicum of problems and complaints in the bedchamber across the hall from Aliss and Rogan. Tarr reluctantly took his leave, promising his wife he would remain close, while she insisted he go tend to whatever was necessary and not worry about her.
As soon as the door shut Fiona whispered, “You can speak freely now that we’re alone.”
Aliss sat beside her sister on the edge of the bed. Fiona was sitting up, resting against several pillows, dressed in a comfortable night shift.
“You think I have not spoken freely to you?”
“With so many about, it would not be easy to say what you wish.”
“I have nothing to hide,” Aliss said.
“Then you will remain with the Wolf?”
“Rogan. His name is Rogan,” Aliss emphasized.
“Do you love Rogan?”
Aliss hesitated.
“You love him or you don’t.”
“I do,” Aliss insisted. “I just suddenly wondered if I could offer him even a small amount of the love he offers me.”
“Then you do question your love for him?”
“No! I question whether I can love him with the same fervor as he does me!”
“That is foolish,” Fiona scolded. “Love is love.”