Cavan looked utterly confused. “But you are so tiny, how could you—” He turned directly to Zia. “She will be all right?”
“So far so good,” Zia said with a firm nod.
Cavan seemed satisfied with her answer, but Artair knew better. He knew Zia well enough to realize that she would never make a promise she might not be able to keep. And she was informing him that everything looked fine now, but beyond that, she could not say.
He wanted to talk with Zia alone, not only about Honora’s condition, but about the bishop and what she might face. He walked over to her and took her hand.
“I’m going to steal my wife for a while,” he said, easing Zia away from the bed. “We’ll be right outside in the hall.”
“It’s good that you stay close, and it’s good that you refer to her as your wife,” Cavan said with a curt nod that appeared more like a command.
“Nonsense,” Honora scolded. “Zia will be locked away in here these next couple of days. Take her to the battlements, Artair, so she can get some fresh air.”
Zia smiled and Artair thanked Honora, while Cavan scowled but said nothing. Artair grabbed his brother’s cloak from the peg near the door and hurried Zia up the stairs to the battlements.
“It’s gorgeous,” Zia said and snuggled in Artair’s arms after he wrapped the heavy wool cloak around them.
“The stark barrenness of the moors can either shiver the soul or still the heart,” he said looking out over the familiar scene that never failed to still his heart. “I’m glad to finally share it with you and glad you feel the same.”
“How could I not? It’s stunning, and now…” She smiled and kissed his lips softly. “…it’s my home.”
Artair returned the kiss with a more passionate one wrapping his arms more tightly around her until her body was firm against his and he could feel the entire length of her.
As he ended the kiss, he whispered, “A home where you will always be safe.”
She shook her head slowly. “No, it is in your arms where I will always be safe.”
His heart soared along with his love for her, and he spoke from his heart. “I never expected to love the woman whom I would make my wife as much as I love you. I never realized what it meant to love until you showed me.”
“You were an apt pupil,” she teased.
“And I will continue to be.”
She shook her head. “No, we now teach each other.”
They kissed again, and Artair realized that if they continued kissing it would certainly lead to them making love, and they needed to talk.
“I wish there were time—”
Zia stopped him. “As do I, but we have urgent matters at hand.”
“Tell me the truth about Honora and the babes,” he said, and smiled. “Two. How wonderful for my brother and her. That is, if all goes well.”
“I have no reason to believe it won’t, but the babes can’t seem to decide if they’re ready to be born or not, and that worries me. But there is nothing I can do at the moment. Only time will tell, and to be honest, it is better I remain with her and not have to concern myself with speaking to the bishop. But what of the marriage documents? He’ll want to see them right away, won’t he?”
“I can easily delay, explaining that the papers were left at your village and someone is on the way here with them. But we need the cleric here as fast as possible, for he will settle the problem by marrying us and providing the proper documents.”
“You haven’t said it, yet you know.”
“I’ve told you that I love you,” Artair said, confused.
“Not that.”
He shrugged. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“You haven’t flaunted the fact that you were right and I was wrong about us getting married right away.”
He looked over her lovely face, lingering on her delectable lips, plump from their kisses, her green eyes so vibrant with passion, and her dark red hair fired with blond streaks. They gave the illusion of flames, which matched her fiery nature. He slowly shook his head.
“You weren’t wrong.”
“What?” Zia asked, startled.
“It would have been wise of us to wed, but it was much wiser that we fell in love and chose to wed.”
She gasped, then smiled. “You’re right. My wish has come true. I wed for love.”
“And my practical nature wisely gave way to—”
“Passion!” Zia cried out with joy.
Artair laughed and hugged her tightly. “I love your zest for life.”
“What will you do if we have a daughter with such zest?”