He didn't either, but he was grateful if that were true. He wasn't looking forward to
having to protect Abigail from her own clan.
Not really wanting to get into a discussion with the widow, he simply shrugged. And
then could not help thinking the action would have had his angel glaring at him rather than
looking overly sympathetic as Una did.
Feeling uncomfortable from the brief conversation for no reason he could fathom,
Talorc went to the great hall to join his soldiers and his wife.
She was already seated in her customary place at the banquet table. Her hair
shone golden, her curls smooth as if she had just brushed them. She'd donned one of her
embroidered blouses with her plaid and it struck him she had made her best efforts to look
lovely for him.
At least it had better be for him.
He looked down at his plaid with small blood spatters caused by carrying the pig
and gave a mental shrug. He was no woman to worry about his appearance, but perhaps
he could have washed off the sweat from his walk back to the fortress before joining her in
the hall.
There was nothing to be done about it now. He walked toward the table, his
attention fixed on his wife.
She was blushing and looking mildly distressed. He frowned and listened to what
was being said around him. The hall was abuzz with something to do with his horse and
his wife. Had she tried to ride him? He thought the stallion had shown a great deal of
tolerance for her thus far.
She looked up with shock on her porcelain features when he touched her shoulder
to let her know he was there. "You have returned."
"As you see."
"Was your hunt successful?"
"Yes. We will have boar tomorrow." They would have had it today, but the one he'd
killed the day before had been scavenged by other predators. It was only to be expected
when he had left it there for them to find.
He took his seat beside his wife and turned to Barr. "What has happened with my