Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 92771 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92771 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Nug called out to a few warriors fit enough to help with the task and they hurried to see it done, James warning the crowd that they would all suffer when Lord Torrance found out.
The Monk went to his wife, people nodding to him as he did, expressing their thanks, though not hiding their fear as they begged him to stay and help them.
“Please stay.”
“Help us while Chieftain Ryland heals.”
“Forever grateful to you.”
“You can keep us safe.”
“Please. Please stay.”
The Monk ignored them. It didn’t matter that people knew who he was, the only thing that mattered was Shade. He felt as if the breath had been knocked out of him when he saw the man shove his wife so hard that she had hit the ground with force and blood began to pool. He wanted to choke the life out of the man when he got her to her feet and saw the blood running down the side of her face mixed with dirt from having fallen face down. He was looking forward to seeing the man dead for what he had done to Shade.
But right now, he wanted to throttle her for thinking of the wounded men before herself.
He watched her as he approached and could tell she was quickly assessing the degree of the various wounds on the men.
“Follow me to the healer’s cottage and I will tend your wounds. Afterwards, you will find food and drink in the keep.”
“They will wait. Ena will tend to you first,” The Monk ordered, when he reached her.
The wounded men stepped away, all but Angus.
“You’ll not harm Shade,” Angus said.
“Quint would never harm me, Angus,” Shade insisted, seeing The Monk’s anger had yet to quell.
“He isn’t Quint. He’s The Monk,” Angus said, never taking his eyes off him.
“Wise man, Angus, but Shade is right. I would never harm her,” The Monk said and took hold of his wife’s arm to see she got to Ena’s cottage.
Shade held her tongue especially seeing how people stared at them or how they would bob their head in respect, or was it fright? They had gotten to know Quint and saw he was a good man. Would that all change now that they knew he was the infamous Monk?
He all but propelled her into the cottage and down on a bench when they entered the cottage. Ena followed them in. Her face had paled watching them approach as a woman whispered the news to her.
“See to her wound, Ena,” The Monk ordered.
The older woman’s hand shook as she took a wet cloth to the wound to clean the blood away.
Shade finally took gentle hold of Ena’s hand. “I can see to this with my husband’s help, Ena. The wounded warriors are in greater need of your skills.”
Ena glanced at The Monk for permission.
“Go,” he said, and the woman fled, though he paid her no mind. His attention was on his wife, seeing that her fingers gently probed her wound. He grew more annoyed when he saw how it had begun to bruise. “How bad is it?” he demanded, worried.
Shade heard his concern through his anger. “It is a minor wound, the amount of blood spilled making it appear worse than it is. If you can get all the blood cleaned off it and the dirt, that I can feel on my face, then I can apply honey to it.”
Without any instructions, The Monk grabbed the bucket of water and went outside and dumped it to refill it with fresh rainwater from the barrel. He paid no heed to the stares. He was too much in a hurry to return to Shade. He grabbed clean cloths off a nearby bench and set both on the table, then he moved a bench to place in front of Shade.
His anger had yet to leave him, if anything, it seemed to grow, seeing the harm she had suffered, and he was worried his touch would be far from gentle. He soaked the cloth, then rinsed it and took hold of her chin and began to clean the blood away. She never took her eyes off his face and when she cringed, he cursed, and surprisingly the gentleness in her eyes began to calm him.
With every swipe of the cloth, he realized how much he missed touching her, kissing her, making love to her, but it tormented him to think that he had found such pleasure, such happiness with the woman who may have been responsible for Amara’s death.
He took firm hold of her chin. “I have no right to love you as much as I do.”
Shade was stunned speechless. Never had she expected The Monk to tell her that he loved her before Quint spoke a word of love.
The Monk let go of her chin and dropped his brow to rest against hers. “I have no right to give my heart to another. No right to ache when you are not in my arms. No right to love the intimacy we share. No right to want anything more than to spend the rest of my days with you. I have no right…”