Much Ado About Highlanders (The Scottish Relic Trilogy) (16 page)

He picked up the piece again. It was cool. The feel of it was no different from before.

“It reacts to you, but not to me. You said this was your mother’s? Do you have memories of her using it when you were a child?”

“I never saw the stone before the day of our wedding,” she said. “What I remember is that she always wore the pouch around her neck. She never parted with it. And she was a gifted healer. I thought it just a lucky charm, the same as many folk wear. When I ran away to the priory, I wore it because it belonged to my mother. It was no precious jewel, so it also matched my new life of simplicity and poverty. I never thought it held any power.”

“When did you realize there was something different about it?”

“Sometimes, when I was tending to people who were in pain, I would feel it through the pouch. It became warm against my skin. It still meant nothing. I saw no connection between the feeling and the people I was tending to.” She looked into his eyes. “Until you.”

“Aye. You saved me, Kenna, when you cared for my wounds.”

“It was this tablet,” she said softly. “Those wounds, all the blood you’d lost. There was nothing I could have done to close that gash. I was frightened. Desperate. I thought you were going to die.”

“What did you do?”

“I hoped, I wished, I prayed that this piece of stone was something more than just a lucky trinket that my mother carried around out of habit. I took it out. I held it in my hand.”

“And then what happened? How did you know what to do?”

“I didn’t know. But as soon as my fingers wrapped around it, something went through me. Heat. Lights. And there were faces and voices, directing me. Telling me what to do.”

She touched his side where the wound had been. He felt the soothing warmth in her fingers even now.

“It was a miracle. I didn’t understand it, but I thought I had mastered it. I thought I knew all there was to know about the power it held. But I was wrong.”

“The pain was even worse the next day.”

She nodded. “I knew what I had to try again. I hoped for the same miracle,” she said. “So at the standing stones where Jock led us, I tried again, grasping for faith—and magic, if that was at the heart of it—and it worked. This time it worked even better. You became whole. You had your strength back.”

“You saved my life twice.”

“Not I. The power lies in this.” She looked steadily into his eyes. “And I am more certain than anything I’ve ever known that the power doesn’t come from witchcraft or from the devil. This power of healing comes from somewhere good and holy. I know it.”

Kenna lay the stone in his palm and held his hand in hers. Alexander felt a rush of heat where their skin touched. The power traveled up his arm, into his body. The sensation was soothing. It settled into his joints. It moved outward into his limbs.

“But you bring it to life. Only you,” he reminded her. “And it appears your mother had the same ability before you.”

She nodded and slid the tablet into the pouch. “And the way it responds to me has changed since the first time I used it on you.”

“How?”

“It’s becoming a part of me. I don’t need to take the stone out and hold it. Back at that camp by the loch, I never once reached for it, but I still felt it in my hands. The power of the stone was now mine to command.” She put the pouch beside them on the bed. “I’m learning how to use it, and in return it’s . . . it’s accepting me.”

Alexander was enveloped in a state of serenity. To his thinking, there was nothing improbable about a healing stone. He’d grown up in the Highlands, a magical and mysterious land. The facts were simple and clear. Kenna had a gift, and it was his responsibility to protect her.

“Have you noticed any feeling of, I don’t know, threat coming from the stone and directed toward yourself?” he asked. “Any sense of danger when you hold the relic?”

“Not from this.” She touched the pouch. “Not at all. But I had strange feelings when we were at Hermit’s Rock. The underground chamber. Those walls. The door.”

“The markings on them.”

She shivered. “When I reached out to touch them, I had a sensation of burning. Whatever spiritual power, whatever magic exists in that chamber, it didn’t want me in there.”

Alexander wished he’d paid closer attention to the old stories about the hermit who lived in that chamber. There were people he could ask at Benmore Castle. His father might remember it, too. He gathered her closer to his chest. She was much calmer now.

“Are we done with this foolishness of running away?”

She looked into his eyes. “Somehow Sir Ralph Evers knows about the tablet. That’s the only explanation of why he would want me.”

“I don’t give a damn what he wants. He’ll have no chance against us once we reach Benmore Castle.”

“But how could I lead him to your door? I am still the woman who ran away from our marriage, though contracts were signed and vows exchanged. Your people would never forgive me. Hell could freeze over before they accept me.”

He drew her mouth to his and kissed her deeply. By the time he ended it, she had her arms around his neck, kissing him back with equal fervor.

“The Macphersons will accept you and vow their allegiance to you and fight for you,” he whispered against her lips. “You’re my wife. You’re their mistress. And you’ve saved my life. Not once, but twice. That alone places you up there with Saint Fillan, at the very least.”

“But I’m no saint.”

He smiled, feeling her breast through her clothing. “And that’s the best bit of news for me, but they don’t have to know that.”

The river ran strong with the recent rains, and Sir Ralph looked from the water rushing beneath the nine stone arches of the bridge to the letter in his hand.

The message from the duke of Hertford was crystal clear. On no account was Evers to take his troops north of this river. All military engagement was to focus on the Borders. All treasure recovered was to be sent south to the duke and thence to the king’s coffers.

Julius Caesar faced this moment, Evers thought. Do not cross the Rubicon, the Roman Senate warned. Do not advance any closer to Rome with your armies. Caesar knew his moment of destiny was at hand. Cross the river and defy the Senate, or remain and follow orders. Take command of his own fate
. . .
or disappear into the oblivion of history.

Most men would have greatness, but fear to do what they must to achieve it. And then there are the few who see the tide rising and use it to carry them to the heights.

Caesar crossed the Rubicon with his army, burned the bridges behind him, marched into Rome, and became emperor.

This river
is my
own Rubicon, Evers thought. Cross the bridge, and there
is
no turning back. This bridge
will
take
me
to greatness
. . .
or ruin.

North of the river, three more pieces of the stone tablet awaited him. Great power awaited him. Thrones and immortality awaited him.

I’ll
not deny
my
destiny, he told himself.
I
will be king.

Signaling to his commanders, he spurred his horse across the bridge.

At the horizon to the north, beneath the cloud-cover
ed
peaks of distant mountains, lay the heart of Scotland.

And when I liv’d I was your other wife;

And when you lov’d, you were my other husband.

Kenna leaned her back against the door and glared in the dim light at the trunk. Who was he to be ordering her to wear one of these dresses? Nobody ordered her what to do, what to wear, how to behave. When these men were done in the commander’s cabin, she was tempted to stuff her husband into one of these dresses and parade him on deck.

Kenna kept her temper under control. She knew what Alexander was trying to do now. He was making arrangements as if it were their wedding night. A clean cabin and a sumptuous dinner.

Even as she thought of it, she felt herself softening . . . again. The romantic beast.

Still, these dresses! Standing naked in the small closet, she stared at the wooden chest filled with women’s clothing. Her old dress and shift were gone, probably thrown overboard by her husband.

“Oh!” she fumed, stomping on the shirt and rough wool jacket she’d just discarded. “Miserable, sweet, Macpherson worm.”

Six months. Six months ago, she’d disappeared into the night. And that was the right thing!

She couldn’t do this. Six months ago, he’d turned up in that French whore’s bed. And now he was asking her to wear a dress that had to belong to one of his mistresses. He expected her to wear a dress that he’d probably peeled off the willing body of another woman.

“By the Virgin, Kenna,” she murmured in torment. “What are you doing?”

Kenna would have walked right out into the cabin and given him a piece of her mind if it weren’t that she could hear the voices of men coming. She decided they might notice that she was wearing nothing.

“Almost ready, wife?”

“Wife? Wife? I’ll give you a wife, you fickle, wench-chasing sea slug,” she grumbled under her breath, trying to push the chest open. It wouldn’t budge.

“What did you say?”

“The blasted thing doesn’t open. It’s sealed shut.”

Kenna jumped as the door swung open, and Alexander stepped in, closing it behind him.

“I thought I latched that,” she told him.

His back was to her, and he filled the closet with his height, his shoulders nearly stretching from wall to wall. This close to him, she felt herself melting. All she wanted right now was to touch him, to feel his powerful body against hers.

That’s what making love in that cave had done to her.

She had a vague recollection of being angry with him, but she couldn’t remember what she’d been upset about. This man did something to her brain when she was this close to him; rational thought evaporated like a morning mist in the sun. Nothing was left in her head but thoughts of his lips on her breasts and his arousal against her.

“Seriously?” he asked, opening the trunk as if it weighed no more than a feather. “You couldn’t open this?”

There wasn’t enough room for Kenna to reach for the clothing at her feet without bumping in to him.

“You’re weaker than I thought, lass. A solid meal tonight should help.”

“Aye, no doubt. Now get out, you lump.”

He turned and, as his eyes drifted over her body, a devilish gleam came into his eyes.

“I see I’ve been summoned here on false pretenses.”

Kenna tried to step back, but she had nowhere to go. The way his eyes raked over her breasts and down the length of her body made her shiver in spite of herself. She tried to cover her breasts, but he took hold of her wrists.

“Nay, woman. Not after doing this to me.”

“Doing what?”

He turned her around and pushed her hands flat against the wall. She tried to lower them, but he pushed them back up and held them with one hand. The tip of a finger moved down along her spine, starting at the nape of her neck and slowly caressing every inch until he reached the cleft of her bottom. Gently, he pushed her feet apart with one boot and released her hands. She gasped when he took hold of her hips and stepped between her legs.

“Doing this.”

She felt his teeth scrape over the skin beneath her ear. His kilt pressed to her back. No layer of tartan could hide his arousal. She’d done that to him.

“I . . . I didn’t plan it,” she whispered, already shaking with need as one hand lifted the weight of her breast and the other caressed her stomach and slid still lower. His fingers found her already damp folds and liquid fire instantly coursed through her. He suckled her earlobe, and she leaned her head back against him.

“You don’t need to be shy with me.”

He squeezed her breast and the play of his fingers in and out of her flesh had her body humming to the most tantalizing song.

“I . . . I . . .” Too lost in the waves of pleasure, she couldn’t imagine what she was about to say. Her eyes closed as the pressures within suddenly carried her upward. At that moment, Kenna gave herself to Alexander to do as he wished, welcoming it, aching for it. She had no control. She wanted none. She was his.

Then, the release came in a rush. She grabbed his wrist but then soared an instant later when he didn’t ease his touch.

In that moment, she didn’t know if she was standing or floating. She couldn’t even recall the floor beneath her feet. It didn’t matter. His voice came to her from a distant cloud.

“This is exactly how I dreamed you would be. You are the woman I imagined.”

She leaned to one side and dug her fingers in his hair, kissing him deeply.

The force of his passion was dizzying. He turned her in his arms and pressed her back against the wall.

“Put your legs around me.”

She did as he lifted her. He slid into her, and she sighed with pleasure.

Kenna wrapped her arms around his neck. She moved her hips, drawing him in, feeling the length and size of him inside. Her body ached for him to move.

“I’m sorry that I can’t go through that door right now and take my time making love to you.”

She shook her head in agreement. “I think we might alarm your sailors.”

He lifted her buttocks and then slid hard into her once. His voice was husky with feeling. “Only you and I will be here for dinner.”

She arched her back and rocked, wanting more.

“And after?” she asked. “Will you make love to me after?”

Six months ago, no one sang the praises of this aspect of marriage. No one thought to mention the miracle of how bodies fit together. No one even hinted at the pleasures to be found in mating.

He lifted her, slid into her almost to the end of his cock and then drove into her again. She gasped at the exquisite pleasure of him.

“Aye, after dinner,” he growled, “and for as many times as you’ll have me. So long as you don’t kill me.”

“Really? I can kill you with lovemaking?”

“Aye, love. And I hope you remember to try.”

Putting his shoulder to the door that separated them, James shoved as hard as he could, but his legs couldn’t budge it. The door was thick and solid, and the latch and hinges were on Emily’s side.

They’d brought her in, awake. He had a dozen questions she might be able to answer. Where they were, where they’d captured her, how many men were guarding them, possible routes of escape. Anything that she had seen that might shed some light on their situation. But all of that would have to wait. He guessed the dawn would bring greater troubles.

“So much has happened since I saw you last. I was so hoping I’d get a chance to speak to you,” Emily whispered.

He was trying to keep their talk and any noise to a minimum. He didn’t want to attract the attention of their jailors.

“Try the latch . . . the hinges. Are you sure there’s no way to open it?”

He heard the noise of rusty metal protesting. She was trying the bolt again. There was a grunt, knocking.

“The bolt won’t budge. It looks to be rusted in place.”

He could tell she was kneeling by the door.

“It looks like we’re stuck here,” she said. “Can I tell you about a talk I had with my father when I got back to Craignock Castle?”

“Not now. There’s no time. We have to hurry,” he said. “There’s a high window here in this cell. There must be one in yours, too. If I can get this one open, I’ll climb out through and fetch you from outside of your window.”

There was a momentary pause. “Oh, please James, don’t. Don’t leave me with these animals.”

“Listen. I won’t leave you. I’ll be—”

“Wait,” she interrupted. “The top hinge. It looks rusted and cracked.”

James looked around his cell and tried to imagine if hers looked any different. “Can you see anything you can use to break it? Something heavy to hit the hinge with? Or something to pry it free.”

“Wait. I’ll look.”

James moved to the corridor door, peering through the holes, listening for any steps that might be coming their way. A loud reverberating bang came from Emily’s cell. He rushed to the connecting door. “What are you doing?”

“I found a large rock under some sacks of grain in one corner. It’s heavy, but I’m trying to knock off the hinge.”

“Take aim and do it quickly. Hit it with all your strength, but just once.”

There was another loud bang. James looked from one door to the other, waiting for their guards to come charging down the hall.

Another bang and there was the sound of wood splintering.

“I did it! The top hinge is gone.”

“Step back.”

“Can you push the door open now?”

He backed up until he reached the opposite wall. Steeling himself, he dropped his shoulder and rushed the door. The thick oak portal flew open with a crack and he found himself sprawled on the packed dirt floor of the adjoining cell.

As he rolled over to stand, Emily rushed into his arms, clutching him around the neck.

“Thank you. Thank you, James. You’ve saved my life.”

“Not yet I haven’t.” Prying himself free, he pushed her back so he could see her. “What did they do to you, lass?”

Even in the darkness, he saw that her clothes were in disarray and her dress and hair were covered with dust and straw. In spite of it all, she looked beautiful to him. Her misty eyes looked up into his with adoration. Her breasts rose and fell with each breath.

“I can’t tell you how happy I am,” she said, “that you’re here, too.”

“You wanted me to be captured?”

“Nay, of course not. I mean . . .” she faltered. “But I have so much to tell you.”

“Not now—there’s not enough time.” James knew he had to act quickly. He had no idea how long it would be before dawn. Still, coming face to face with her, he realized that he’d missed her more than he could ever admit. Whether it was Emily who moved into his arms again or James who pulled her in, it didn’t matter. She was there, every warm curve pressed against him. And he held on to her for longer than he had any right to. Finally, he pushed her away.

“About my talk with my father,” she started.

“Not now.” He searched the dark corners of the cell for anything that might be of use to them. The stone was large enough to crush a man’s skull. And there were more sacks of grain here than he’d found in his cell.

James peered up at the window. It was barred and latched as his was, but one of the bars was missing. He started stacking sacks of grain on top of each other.

“How did they get you?”

“I went out with three of Kester’s men to check on the bairn Kenna delivered. They overpowered us.”

“How far away were you from Craignock?”

“Just a few hours north.”

“Why would you ride that far away?” he asked, suddenly angry. “You’ve seen how ruthless these bastards are. But what castle is this?”

“Stop lecturing me.” She dragged a sack of oats to him.

James promised himself that he’d give her a serious lecture as soon as they were out of here. “Did you see where they were taking you?”

“They bound me and tied a bag over my head and tossed me in the back of a hay wain.”

“How long were you in the cart?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. I was too upset to pay attention.”

James climbed up the sacks. Balancing himself, he jumped and his fingers caught hold of the sill. He pulled himself up.

“Where are you going?” She was up on the sacks and tugging at his kilt. James cursed under his breath. She had no idea what a distraction she was. He lowered himself back down.

“I need to see what we’re dealing with.”

“You said you wouldn’t leave me here.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

James pulled himself up again. As with the window in his cell, this opening was for delivering grain to the cellars. The bars were meant to keep thieves out. But with one of the bars missing, the opening was large enough for a child, or possibly a woman.

He looked out at an alleyway. On the ground across the way, the missing bar lay in the dirt against a wall. He looked in both directions as far as he could.

“What do you see?”

“A dark alleyway. No one is in sight. At the end of the building, there’s a hay wain.”

“Perhaps the one they brought me in.”

He let go and landed on the sacks. She was standing just below him.

“I have an idea,” he said. “I don’t like it, but if you can squeeze through that window, the other bar is in the alley. You give it to me so that I can pry the window open. Then I follow you out.”

“Let’s wait here until daylight, when there are more people about. We could blend in and escape then.”

James shook his head. “It’s not safe to stay here. They could come back for us.”

“Not in the middle of the night.”

“We have to get out now,” he ordered. James reached down to help Emily climb up next to him. But the sacks shifted, and she lost her balance. Clutching at his hips, she pulled him with her, and the two of them tumbled to the ground. She landed with a soft “Oomph!” on top of him.

He tried to cushion her fall, and his hand inadvertently found a breast. He yanked his hand away but somehow ended up holding on to her buttocks as they rolled. Now, with her beneath him and his cock nestled intimately between her legs, James found himself staring into large round eyes.

He couldn’t believe it. He was becoming aroused even as danger threatened their very lives.