Loving A Highlander (6 page)

Isabella felt her pulse race.  Maybe there was still some herbs that would be of use. “May I see it?”

Rowan arched his brows and looked at her in surprise.  “You want to see the healer’s room, lass?”  He placed his elbows on the table and tented his fingers. “May I ask why it interests you?  I understand that you are a healer, but we have no need for one.  The traveling physician passes through every few months or so.”

Isabella knew she had to choose her words carefully.  A lot of men didn’t trust women healers, preferring to rely on the wisdom of men to tend to what ailed them.

“My grandmother and mother were both healers.”  She met his steady gaze without flinching.  “I have been practicing for years. I know how to make several tinctures that might be of some use.”

Rowan didn’t respond right away.  Instead, he studied her as he tried to determine her motive. 

“What did I miss?”  Gerard sat back down at the table and looked from Isabella to his cousin.

Rowan smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.  “Your lady friend asked if she could see the healer’s tower room.”

Gerard turned to her, his blue eyes filled with surprise.  “Is that true, lass?  Did you ask to visit the healer’s room?”

Isabella lifted her chin and nodded.  “I did,” she said firmly.  “The laird mentioned that the healer’s room still contained all of her supplies.  I thought there might be enough herbs for me to make a tincture for my headache.”

A corner of Gerard’s lips tugged upward in a crooked grin.  “I’ve heard rumors the tower is haunted.”

Isabella met his gaze and smiled.  It was hard to believe a seasoned warrior would be terrified of a fictional haunting, but something told her Gerard was just toying with her.  “Are you scared?” she teased.

Several of the men sitting nearby laughed and Gerard sent them a dark look.  “No, lass,” he said dryly, folding his arms. “But I will not show you the healer’s room.  I am in no mood to deal with a hysterical female.”

“I think you are scared,” she whispered softly, so only he could hear.  “Why else would you refuse to take me to the tower?

Amusement flickered in Gerard’s eyes as he rose to his feet.  He made a deep bow.  “After you, my lady,” he said mockingly.

He left Isabella no choice but to accompany him.  She got to her feet slowly, aware that Eva and the laird, as well as the other diners, were watching her every move.  The Great Hall had grown silent and she could once again feel the weight of numerous stares as she followed Gerard to the end of the hall and the steep flight of stairs that spiraled upward to the north tower.

“You didn’t have to cause a scene,” Isabella hissed, as she climbed the stairs in front of him.  The stone steps were narrow and uneven and she had to clutch the wall or risk falling.  At one point she stumbled, and was grateful when Gerard wrapped his strong arms around her from behind.

“Easy, lass.”  His deep voice echoed in the confined space.  “We don’t want you breaking your pretty neck.”

“I find it hard to believe you would care,” Isabella retorted.  “You act as if you can’t stand me.”

Gerard reached for her, pressing her back against the cold stone wall.  His arms bracketed her on either side.  “Is that what you think, Bella?  That I loathe to be in your presence?”

Isabella could feel the heat of his body pressing up against her.  He was close, so close that if she leaned forward slightly, their mouths would meet. 

“You don’t appear to like me very much,” she whispered.

Gerard muttered an oath, before capturing her lips in a drugging kiss.  He leaned forward slightly, pressing against her.

Isabella moaned as she twined her arms around his neck.  She could feel the heat of him soaking through her clothing and knew it would be easy to become lost in his arms.

Gerard’s hand dipped inside her bodice and thumbed a bare nipple, before cupping the weight of her in his palm.  “Oh, I like you, lass,” he growled.  “I like you very much.”

He tugged on the bodice of her gown until her breasts were free.  Hungrily he drank in the sight of them before leaning forward to lathe his tongue over an erect nipple.

Isabella clung to him as he pulled the nipple into his mouth and began to suckle.  She could feel the pulls all the way to her center and she moaned as need quickly overtook her.

Gerard released her nipple and lifted his head.  “I want you, lass,” he said, placing a quick kiss on her lips before pulling up her bodice and covering her.  “I want you,” he repeated, “but this is not the time or place.”

Isabella worked to calm her breathing.  She felt cool air rush against her as he took a step back.  She placed a trembling hand against her lips.  “I’m certain you have kissed plenty of women you don’t like.”

Gerard chuckled as he opened the door to the tower room.  “No, lass, I’m not in the habit of kissing every woman I meet and I especially don’t kiss women I find repulsive.”

He ushered her into the small space and walked across the room to open the shutters.  Moonlight streamed through the open window, bathing the room’s contents in silvery light.

Isabella walked immediately to the center of the room where a work table had been placed.  Although it was empty at the moment, she could tell from its scarred surface that it had been well-used.

She placed her hand on its surface and felt a slight tingle.  The woman who had worked here had possessed magic, traces of it still lingered in the room.

A cupboard sat against the far wall.  Through its partially open door, Isabella could see containers lining its shelves.  She walked over and after opening the cupboard door wider, pulled a container from the shelf.  Removing its lid, she sniffed the contents and smiled as the smell of Juniper wafted around her.

“This room is perfect.” She placed the container back in the cupboard and turned to Gerard.  He was leaning against the far wall and in spite of his earlier talk of ghosts, appeared completely relaxed.

He shrugged.  “I always thought it was a bit dark and gloomy myself.”

“Ah, so you are afraid of ghosts,” she teased.

A smile twitched his lips.  “No, lass, I’m not afraid of any spirit that may roam the castle.  It is flesh and blood men that I worry about.  A ghost won’t slit my throat in my sleep, but a man will.”

Isabella wondered if he was talking about men in general or if he had a specific man in mind.  She had witnessed the dark look that had passed between Gerard and the soldier in the Great Hall.  Something told her the two men were far from friends.

She crossed the room to stand beside him.  “Is there more than one ghost?”

Gerard’s grin was wicked as he reached out to caress her cheek with the back of his hand.  “Aye, there are many.  It is rumored that the old cook still haunts the kitchen.  The serving maids swear that if you walk into the kitchen in the middle of the night, you will find a cauldron over the fire and a spoon stirring as if by an invisible hand.”

Isabella shivered and took a step closer to him.  He surprised her by wrapping a strong arm about her waist and pulling her snugly to his side.

“And then,” Gerard said, warming to the subject, “there is the ghost of the stable boy who was hung outside this very window.  On windy nights, some say you can still hear his gurgled scream as he slowly choked to death.”

Isabella’s eyes widened as she looked around the small room.  She believed in spirits, of course.  She had even seen one a time or two and even though she believed them to be harmless, she still didn’t relish the idea of coming face to face with one.  Especially in the dead of night when shadows loomed and a person’s imagination had the tendency to run wild.

“Scared, Bella?” Gerard murmured as he wrapped her in his arms and stole a kiss. 

Isabella leaned into him.  She could hear the beating of his heart underneath her cheek.  It was slow and steady, telling her that he wasn’t scared of encountering any wandering ghosts.

Feeling foolish, she took a step back.  She looked toward the window.  She wondered about the stable boy and how long it had been since he had met his demise.

As if reading her mind, a slight grin tugged at the corners of Gerard’s lips.  “Did I say it was this tower?” he drawled.  “My mistake.  I meant to say the other tower.  The stable boy was hung from the south tower.”

Isabella arched her delicate brows.  “Was there a stable boy?” she asked, beginning to doubt him.

Gerard chuckled.  “Aye, lass, there have been plenty of stable boys at the castle, but none has met such a gruesome fate.  Tis a story, nothing more.”

As if her feet had a will of their own, Isabella took a step closer to him, so close they were almost touching.  “I will be sure and keep far away from the kitchens during the nighttime.”

A shadow moved in the corner of the room and she shivered as the temperature dropped.  The room may not be haunted by the ghost of a stable boy, but it did come with a ghost, of that she was certain.

Gerard chuckled as he once again draped an arm around her.  His fingertips grazed the curve of her breast but didn’t linger there.  “You would be wise to do that, Bella.”

Isabella knew she should step away from him, but she found herself leaning against him as her eyes scanned the room.  A bed, barely large enough for one person, sat against the wall closest to the window.  As if the room’s former occupant liked to keep the shutters open at night so that she could see the moon and the stars.

“I believe I would like to sleep here, tonight,” she murmured.

Gerard’s teasing smile vanished.  He grasped her chin and forced her to meet his gaze.  “Are ye mad, woman?  Why would you want to spend the night in this drafty old tower when you have a perfectly comfortable bedchamber waiting for you?”

Isabella briefly wondered if his concern had anything to do with her spending the night in the tower or had more to do with the fact that she wouldn’t be sharing his bed.

She didn’t expect him to understand.  How could she explain to him that the tower room with its containers of herbs and unhindered view of the night sky felt like home?

“I like it here,” she said, moving away from him and over to the fireplace.  The fire was cold in the hearth and had been for months.  She doubted if it had even been lit since the healer’s death.

Isabella turned.  “Would you mind helping me to light the fire?  I always did it at home, of course, but my dress is a bit cumbersome.”  She swooped her hands over the folds of the fancy dress as she spoke.  She had always envied noble women with their fine clothes, but now that she had the chance to wear such a garment, she found herself wishing for her serviceable tunic.

“No, lass.”  Gerard’s eyes flared with a challenging light as if he dared her to defy him.  “I will not build a fire for you.  You can’t stay here tonight.  It isn’t safe.”

Isabella folded her arms and tilted her chin as she met his steady gaze.  “I will ask the laird.  I’m certain he won’t mind if I spend the night in the tower room.”

Gerard snorted.  “Rowan will more than likely think you have gone mad and lock you in your bedchamber with a posted guard out front.  Believe me, he won’t approve of any of this.”

Isabella sat down on the small bed and smoothed her hand over the thin cover.  “I’m staying.  You can’t make me leave this room.”

Gerard arched a brow.  “Don’t challenge me, lass.  You won’t win.  I have half a mind to toss you over my shoulder and carry you.  If you think the diners in the Great Hall were talking about you before, just wait until I lug you through the room like a sack of potatoes.”

“I’m staying,” Isabella repeated.  She didn’t know why the tower room meant so much to her, but from the moment she had stepped through the door it had felt like home.

She crossed the room once again to the fireplace and began to toss in logs that had been sitting in a pile beside it.  She removed the flint and tinder from the metal tinderbox, only to have Gerard take them from her hands.

“You are a stubborn lass,” he growled, as he made quick work of the fire.  Within a matter of minutes, flames were crackling cheerfully in the hearth.

Gerard turned back to her, his expression unreadable.  “The fire should last the night.  If you find it getting low, just toss another log on the pile.”

He moved to the door and prepared to leave.

Isabella stared after him in surprise.  He was letting her have her way?  Giving in, just like that?

At the door, Gerard turned back to her.  “Keep the door locked, Bella.  The men in the castle left the healer alone.  Most were afraid of her.  But believe me, they won’t hesitate to climb the stairs and pay you a visit.”

He arched a brow before continuing.  “Or is that what you want?” he asked, taking a step toward her again.  “Are you eager for some male company, Bella, because if that is the case, I will be more than happy to stay and keep you company.”  He glanced toward the bed.  “It is a little small, but I can make it work.”

Isabella’s cheeks heated as images of them intertwined on the bed flashed through her mind.  She had no doubt that Gerard would make it work and do a fine job of it.”

She tilted her chin and looked him the eyes.  “What will the laird and lady think if you spend the night in my bedchamber?”