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Authors: Donna Fletcher

Bound to a Warrior (15 page)

BOOK: Bound to a Warrior
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N
ight had already fallen when they finally reached Duncan's home and though the horse took its time, Mercy wasn't able to see much of the village. She did, however, smell the delicious scents wafting about and she sniffed the air with anticipation and appreciation.

“Something smells good,” she said, glancing up at Duncan from where she lay snuggled comfortably in his arms.

“Our hunters and farmers keep us well stocked and our women keep us well fed.”

Mercy heard the pride in his voice and she envied it. How lucky for him to be part of a family, a clan. She had often wondered how it would feel to have the support of so many, to have others to rely on and help in times of need and to help those in their time of need. She and her mother had led a restrictive life due to her father being king and her mother his mistress. It had been a lonely existence, and she had never understood why her mother favored it.

“Are you feeling better?” Duncan asked.

“I am,” she said and smiled.

“That's good,” Trey said. “Duncan worried you would not feel up to having the chains removed tonight. But now with you feeling well, we can stop by the blacksmith and have him remove them.”

Free of Duncan
.

No, she didn't wish to be free of him yet.
Not yet
. She wanted more time with him, more intimate kisses, touches that lingered and more, so much more before it came time for her to take her leave. But would there be time?

The horse snorted and pawed the ground once before stopping at the keep, and Mercy knew the time had come. It wouldn't be long before she and Duncan were separated.

Trey stepped forward to help, but Duncan shook his head.

And Mercy said, “We can manage.”

“I've no doubt you can,” Trey said and stepped away, taking hold of the horse's reins.

Mercy relaxed against Duncan as he dismounted with ease, taking her along with him. It was as if they were one, their every movement made in unison. No one led or followed. They were partners, always there for each other, always ready to help or keep safe. How would she ever do without him?

He set her feet gently on the ground and waited a moment. She kept her hand on his arm until she was
certain her legs felt strong enough to hold her and then she smiled and reluctantly took a step away from him.

The pain hit her with such intensity that she didn't have time to react, though Duncan did. His powerful hands grabbed her before her limp body could hit the ground and once again she found herself in his arms.

“That's it. You're going straight to bed,” Duncan commanded.

Though she was left with a residue of weakness from the jolting pain, her humor had remained intact. And it was with a teasing grin she whispered, “Exactly where I wanted to be…with you.”

He didn't break stride as he mounted the steps to the keep and said, “You're not well enough for making love tonight.”

“I was teasing.”

“I'm not.”

His tenacious tone warned her that he certainly wasn't, and it was nice to know he was concerned for her. He was a fine man, a good man, a man she could love. And that was the biggest problem of all. But then, how many times had her mother warned her against falling in love.

Love ruins everything. Don't ever make the mistake of falling in love. I promise you will suffer for it if you do.

Her mother's words resonated clearly in her mind, that was how often she had reminded Mercy of it. Many times through the years Mercy had wondered what had happened to her mother that had caused her to distrust love. But no matter how many times Mercy had asked,
her mother would always tell her that the past was best left in the past.

The great hall was ablaze with lights when they entered, a plethora of candles, wall torches and a huge stone fireplace being the sources. It wasn't a large room, though certainly sufficient to hold many with its numerous tables and benches lined in rows.

“My son!”

The joyful screech made Mercy smile as Duncan turned with her in his arms to face the woman who rushed over to him.

She was taller than Mercy by at least two heads and thick in body, and with the prettiest face Mercy had ever seen. Creamy flawless skin and large wide green eyes, long, curly auburn hair not touched with a single strand of gray and piled high on her head, and full cheeks flushed pink, while the deep lines around her mouth were evidence that her smile was permanent.

The woman threw her arms wide when she stopped in front of Duncan. “What have we here, my son?” Her bright green eyes twinkled with mischief. “Have you finally brought home a wife and maybe a wee bairn waiting to be born?”

Mercy couldn't stop herself from blushing.

Duncan, however, laughed, shook his head and said, “Not yet.”

“Then take her upstairs and see to your business,” his mother ordered with a wink.

“If she wasn't injured I might—”

“Injured, you say?” his mother barked. “What's wrong? Take her upstairs. Carmag get my healing basket. Why are you standing there? Move!”

Duncan jumped to his mother's orders and climbed the stairs, his mother in quick pursuit.

“Put her in your bed and leave her to me,” his mother said.

“I can't do that.”

“Aye, you will,” his mother insisted.

He entered the room, his mother scurrying past him to turn down the bed. She moved out of his way and he gently laid Mercy down on the soft stuffed mattress. He then sat on the bed beside her, yanked off the blanket that had hid their chain and held up his hand.

“This is why, Mother.”

His mother gasped.

“What the hell?”

“You watch your mouth, Carmag,” his mother said, turning to scold her husband as he entered the room.

Carmag shook his head and handed his wife her healing basket. “Why are they chained together?”

“You heard your father. Answer him,” Duncan's mother ordered and both parents glared at him.

“Can it wait until after you've seen to her wound?” Duncan asked.

His mother threw her hands up. “Whatever is the matter with me? Of course, this lovely young woman—” She turned wide eyes on her son waiting to be introduced.

“Mercy.”

“You can plead for mercy later,” his mother warned. “Right now I'd like you to introduce the lady to me.”

“Her name is Mercy,” Duncan said with a laugh.

His mother swatted his arm and then looked to Mercy. “I'm Mara and it is a pleasure to meet you, Mercy.”

“I'm so pleased to finally meet you,” Mercy said. “Duncan has spoken lovingly of his family.”

Mara chuckled. “I can't imagine Duncan talking
lovingly
about his brothers.”

“He did of his mother,” Mercy said.

Mara beamed, her plump cheeks stinging red. “He's a good son.”

“Because of you,” Mercy said.

Mara looked to Duncan. “I like her. She'd make you a good wife.”

“See to her wound, Mother,” Duncan said with a grin and rattled the chains. “She's not going anywhere.”

“Then perhaps the chain should remain,” Mara said with a teasing glint and placed her healing basket on the bed and got busy tending Mercy.

“Tell us about the chain,” his father said, moving to stand at the foot of the bed.

One glance and Mercy knew he was Trey's father. He was as handsome as his son or rather his son was as handsome as him, only older, though age did not distract from his fine features. He stood a head over his wife and was built broad and solid. But the one thing that she noticed the most was the loving look in his eyes every time he glanced at his wife.

Duncan obliged his father, starting with when he and Mercy were first chained together, though omitting the intimate details.

Mara listened while she busily filled a bowl of water from the pitcher on a stand near the fireplace and rinsed a cloth to cleanse Mercy's head wound.

“The king grows out of control,” Carmag said angrily. “Why ever would he commit a young innocent woman to death and then suddenly change his mind?”

Mercy tensed.

“I'm sorry, dear, did I hurt you?” Mara asked.

While she had felt no pain, her wound allowed her to conceal her reaction that the truth about her might be revealed. “Just a little.”

“You're safe here,” Carmag said firmly.

“And here she'll stay,” Duncan said, glancing down at her.

Mercy didn't reply. She closed her eyes while Mara continued to tend her. She didn't want to think of the future, for then she might hope and in the end she would be disappointed. She knew she would. Her mother had and her mother before her. In a strange way, it seemed to be the destiny of all women in her family.

“Her arm was injured, though suffered no wound,” Duncan informed his mother after she had thoroughly cleansed the head abrasion and had applied a healing paste.

Mara looked over her arm, moved it about some and when Mercy winced told her, “Time will need to see
to this.” Then she leaned closer to Mercy and asked, “Anything else you need me to tend?”

Mercy blushed and whispered, “My backside, though I don't know why it should pain me.”

“Why didn't you tell me?” Duncan asked.

“And what business is her backside of yours?” Mara snapped.

Duncan leaned closer to Mara. “Since I've already seen it, it is my business.”

Mara grinned. “Then it's a wedding we'll be planning soon.”

“How is she?” Trey asked entering the room.

“She's just fine,” Mara said. “But you and your father have to leave while I tend to a private area.” She pointed to the door. “Out. The two of you.”

Duncan grinned.

“And you shut your eyes,” Mara said shaking her pointed finger at Duncan.

Mercy shook her head at him hoping he'd understand that while there wasn't any part of her he hadn't seen, seeing any part of her naked while in front of his mother would embarrass her.

He winked and grinned at Mercy and she was relieved he understood.

“All right,” he grumbled teasingly. “But I do so under protest.”

“You can protest all you like. You'll still do what I say,” Mara ordered though retained her smile.

Mercy liked Mara. She took no backtalk even from
grown sons, and she obviously loved them since her eyes always twinkled with love and humor whenever she looked at them, especially when she playfully scolded them.

Mara hoisted her skirt after Mercy pointed to where she had felt the dull though constant pain. Mercy relaxed under her gentle probing.

“What's wrong?” Duncan demanded. “You're not saying anything. Is it a bad wound?”

“A bruise that's all, though if you shared Trey's horse to get her here, which I imagined you did,” Mara said. “It caused further bruising. This wound, like her arm, will require time to heal.”

“Then she'll rest,” Duncan commanded.

“Not on her backside she won't,” Mara said with a chuckle as she pulled Mercy's skirt down to cover her.

“Can I open my eyes now?” Duncan asked.

“Aye, all done,” his mother said and began returning things to her healing basket.

“Are you all right?” Duncan asked running a gentle hand over her sore arm.

“Truly I am,” Mercy said, not wanting him to worry but comforted by his concern.

“We'll need to get you two to Harry the smithy,” his mother said.

Mercy knew that their separation was imminent, but she preferred to prolong it even if it was just for a little longer.

“Actually,” Mercy said, “could we possibly eat first?”

“Good Lord, what a fool I've been,” Mara said admonishing herself. “You two must be starving.”

“That we are,” Duncan confirmed.

“I'll see that a feast is brought to you,” Mara said placing her healing basket on the floor near the bed.

“Along with plenty of wine and mead,” Duncan said.

“And afterward we'll get you to Harry so he can set to work on freeing you of your chains,” his mother said and with a wide grin left the room.

Mercy wished she could have found a reasonable excuse as to why the chain need not be removed tonight, but there truly wasn't one. She wasn't in grievous pain and having slept in Duncan's arms for the better part of their journey, she was no longer exhausted. And certainly after feasting she would have more strength.

So tonight she and Duncan would be free of each other.

“If you're not feeling up to this—”

Mercy shook her head, finally accepting the inevitable. “No, you've been shackled to me long enough.”

Duncan rested his brow against hers. “It's no chore being shackled to you.”

“We shared a grand adventure, didn't we?”

“I've known no grander,” he said and drew back with a smile. “And you haven't forgotten what you owe me, have you?”

Mercy laughed for they had done so much more than kiss. “I've already kissed you.”

“But the promise was that when we were free of the chain you would kiss me.”

“I cannot break a promise,” Mercy said. “Once the chain is off, I will kiss you.”

“Then I look forward to the kiss.”

She did too, though she knew that once she kissed him she would not want to stop kissing him and then surely she would want to make love and not want to stop making love with him.

Truth was that she didn't want any of this to end with Duncan. She wanted a life with him. A long, happy life, but that wasn't possible. Particularly now that her father was after her and that he no longer wanted her dead, but brought back alive to him.

He was up to something and for some reason she couldn't help but think that it might have something to do with Duncan. That meant the longer she lingered here with Duncan, the more danger he and his family were in.

BOOK: Bound to a Warrior
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