Page 52 of Bride of Fire
As she moved toward the nursery, he thought again about how different she was from Alicia. Neither meek nor mincing, Jenefer strode with confidence and purpose. And when Bethac opened the door to let her in—glancing toward Morgan for his approval—Jenefer didn’t wring her hands in indecision or uncertainty. She took the bairn in capable arms, trusting she could resolve his troubles.
To Morgan’s amazement, the bairn grew quiet almost at once. With the sound of her voice and the power of her touch, Jenefer convinced him there was nothing to cry about, that all was right with the world.
Indeed, therewassomething compelling about her reassurances. Morgan himself was almost ready to believe her.
Almost.
And then he remembered he’d lost his wife.
Nothing was right with the world.
Nothing would be easy from now on. Not with the clan. Not with the keep. Not with this child.
Especially when the child’s father could be so easily distracted by a green-eyed, golden-haired Lowlander and so easily dismiss the woman who had given the child life.
No longer kept awake by the bairn’s cries, he could only blame his sleeplessness on guilt. And that guilt was compounded by the fact that he couldn’t remember the exact color of Alicia’s eyes or the sound of her voice.
Chapter 27
“Nay!” Feiyan screamed, jolting Jenefer out of her peaceful nap.
Jenefer sat bolt upright and fumbled in panic for the bow that wasn’t there.
But Feiyan’s face wasn’t marked by fear as she glared out the window. It was full of outrage.
Jenefer sighed in exasperation. Her cousin wasn’t being killed after all. She slumped back onto the bed.
She’d spent half the night awake in the nursery, coaxing Miles out of tears. Every time she’d put him in his wee bed, he’d cry to be held. In the end, she’d curled up on the nursery floor near the hearth and fallen asleep with him in her arms.
Now, back in Morgan’s bedchamber, satiated from a breakfast of oatcakes, ruayn cheese, and watered ale, she’d hoped to garner a few hours of serene slumber.
Feiyan, however, seemed determined to destroy that serenity.
“Fool!” she was yelling at someone in the courtyard.
Jenefer groaned. “Feiyan, must you?”
“Nay!” Feiyan cried again at some unseen enemy. “Oh, nay!” This time she sounded truly distressed, as if someone were drowning a kitten in the castle well.
Jenefer edged up onto her elbows. It was useless to try to sleep.
“Odin’s blood, Feiy, what is it?” she grumbled.
But Feiyan’s attention was riveted to whatever was happening in the courtyard. Her fists were clenched on the sill, and she chewed at her lip.
“Feiyan,” she repeated, “what’s wrong?”
Feiyan cringed. Her jaw dropped in outrage. She angrily ground her teeth.
With a resigned, impatient sigh, Jenefer got up and joined her cousin at the window.
“Look!” Feiyan snarled, stabbing a finger toward the activity on the ground below. “Just look!”
Jenefer rubbed her eye with the heel of her hand and followed Feiyan’s gaze. Then she drew her brows together. “That looks just likeyoursword.”
“’Tismy sword.”
Of course. It was inevitable someone would retrieve Feiyan’s curious abandoned weapons from outside the keep. Four burly men-at-arms were currently taking turns, swinging the strange, narrow blade around, examining its curved edge, hacking at a straw target.
