A Chieftain's Wife by Leigh Ann Edwards

Author:Leigh Ann Edwards
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tule Publishing
Published: 2017-11-28T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Three

After Alainn donned her garments the next morning, she gently rubbed a healing balm on her ankles. The burns were barely visible, only a few tiny reddened marks remained, but they stung fiercely. If she was just a woman and not a witch with fairy lineage, she was certain there would be little pain, but because she was a witch she was unnaturally susceptible to wounds caused by flame. And her temper still burned as fiercely as the reddened marks on her legs.

Killian was already gone from their bedchamber and she knew he was in a rare unruly disposition this morning as well. She had denied him the previous night; the only time since they’d become intimate, she had refused his advances entirely and stubbornly kept to her side of their bed. It was the first time she’d allowed her anger and jealousy to rule her emotions and her desires so completely. Killian was a man accustomed to getting his way, in his life and in his bed. And this morning he had worn a look of frustration and displeasure.

Now, some might think he was overly demanding to expect his wife to partake in carnal activities in her advancing term, but they were both aware her desires remained nearly insatiable even though she carried a child. They had always shared a passion uncommon to most, she believed. Therefore, Killian knew well enough she had denied him physical love and pleasure only to punish him for defending Ciara. She knew how he felt regarding women who used their bodies as a way to either punish or reward their husband, and his disappointment was not so much in that he’d not been pleasured, but that she’d stooped to a measure he disagreed with.

When she made her way toward the kitchen, she stopped short realizing Ciara McCree was most certainly within the room. She used her powers of perception to confirm it. She hoped the troublesome woman had a throbbing headache and a putrid stomach from ingesting such quantities of ale. It rankled her to think she now felt uncomfortable entering the kitchen and she would not be likely to partake in her usual companionable morning conversation with her friend, Cookson. And she needed to procure her milk and honey mixture. As Eireen headed down the corridor toward the drawing room, Alainn stopped her.

“Eireen, might I ask a favor of you?”

“Certainly, milady, what is it you require?”

“Would you ask Cookson to come to me; I must speak with him?”

“Aye, milady!” The woman gave Alainn a questioning look, surely wondering why she had changed her morning routine and wouldn’t simply speak to the man behind the nearby door, but she did as she’d been instructed.

When Cookson came out only a moment later, he appeared mildly perturbed to be taken from his many duties.

“Alainn, what is it you need?” he asked in a hurried tone. She thought he still seemed sore with her for her harsh way of speaking with Ciara the previous morning, but she was thankful he did refer to her by her given name and not her title as he’d done then.

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