Spellbound (11 page)

Resigned
to her newfound plan, she wrapped her arms about herself and let the tears flow freely, until there were none left.

22

As Maighdlin made her way down the main stairs to the great hall, she heard a commotion behind her. Startled, she turned and flattened herself against the wall as Niall came thundering down the steps on a ghostly, grey horse.

He
stopped at the landing and looked up at her, the horse prancing and snorting. She drew curious stares from the servants moving about the hall, for they couldn’t see what she was seeing. Niall’s dark eyes danced. “I always wanted to do that when I was alive!” he said.

He
vaulted from the horse, swatted its rump, and it disappeared into a mist that only she and Niall could see. Maighdlin moved up the stairs until she was hidden in shadow, out of sight of the servants. “Och Niall, ne’er sneak up on a girl when yer riding a horse down the castle stairs!”

He
laughed. Maighdlin frowned. “Niall, I havena been able to tell Kade yet, about ye and….”

“
I know, lass. But ye came back here when ye could’ve gone straight to Brodie MacKinnon and escaped. ‘Twas a brave thing ye did, unselfish, and I trust ye will tell Kade. I know he’s stubborn. He willna want to listen to what ye have to say.”

“
I tried to tell him last night after he…spanked me.”

“
He gave you a
spanking
?”

Maighdlin
blushed. “To teach me a lesson.”

“
The lusty minx!”

Maighdlin
frowned.

“
Ah, lass, dunna trouble yerself. I know how to prove to him that ye are no’ lying about Fenalla.”

“
How?”

“
Before Kade left for Irish shores he gave Fenalla a gold locket with a single jewel in it, a jewel the color of sea moss. Right before he left, she…lost it. ‘Twas a rare jewel, and Kade was upset that she’d been so careless with it.”

Maighdlin
stared at him, waiting for more. She smiled. “Niall, I dinna know ‘twas possible for spirits to blush.”

Niall
rolled his eyes. “When Kade asked Fenalla’s father for her hand, he demanded he gain more fighting experience first. Sad to say, but her father wasna keen on the match and he hoped, no doubt, that Kade wouldna return from battle. So Kade, being the stubborn man he is, volunteered to go to Ireland. Well, ye know that at that time, my father’s mind turned, and he banished Kade, telling him ne’er to come back, fearing that Kade would kill him, and myself, to become laird of the keep. I tried to stop Kade from going to Ireland, but he was determined to win Fenalla’s hand. My father was mad, unbalanced in his mind. Kade had no designs to become laird. And Fenalla’s intention was to wait for him but…. I can see you dunna understand.

“
When Kade was young, he was treated like dirt. He was always fightin’. They called him ‘The Bold’ behind his back. He’d fight people he shouldna fight, sometimes lads twice his size. But he ne’er backed down.”

Niall
looked sad. “I dinna realize how hard he had to work for everything. I dinna realize he felt he couldna live up to my status as the first born and favored son. I took so many things for granted. Things that came easily to me
because
I was the first born.” He paused. “When ye tell Kade what I need ye to tell him, ye can also show him where the lost locket is, to prove yer story.”

Niall
leaned over and whispered its location in her ear. She hadn’t known ghosts could whisper, either. “Oh,” was all she could say before Niall’s image faded.

She
knew Niall’s chamber had not been disturbed since the day he’d died. But she didn’t have time to check for the locket because Addie came rushing up the stone stairs.

“
There ye are! Come quickly. ‘Tis my husband. I…I need yer help. With the herbs!”

Maighdlin
nodded, surprised when Addie grabbed her hand and led her at a fast pace from the castle to the servants’ quarters.

Outside,
the air was strong with the smell of peat smoke. Dogs lay about in the courtyard, in the hazy morning sunshine. Maighdlin saw servants standing in the half-dark doorways of timber-framed buildings; they stared at her as she passed and did not try to disguise their fear and hatred. Eventually, Addie drew her into a small room that smelled of peat, sweat, blood, and whisky.

Despite
the warmth of the day, a roaring fire burned in the small hearth. The small room was smoky; well-worn tools hung on the wall. In addition to Addie, there were two women and a young girl and boy in the room; they stared at Maighdlin with fear and curiosity.

The
small room seemed dwarfed by the man who lay on a coarse straw mattress. He had a large gash in his thigh and was unconscious. Sweat crawled from his forehead, slid down his florid throat. The wound on his thigh was wet, red, and raw. His shirt was soaked, his face nearly white. The blade had indeed caused a deep wound.

“
Ye said ye know healing herbs? To help me husband, Gordain? I fear he may die….”

Maighdlin
didn’t hesitate. “I’ll need warm water, wine, and strips of cloth.”

The
little girl fetched the items and placed them beside the bed. Maighdlin poured the wine on the wound to make it clean. Gordain’s body twitched, and a low moan escaped his mouth. “I saw Yarrow in the garden,” Maighdlin said. “Addie, fetch me some? And some tools to grind it with?”

She
raced off and soon returned with the items. Maighdlin ground up the aromatic herb and prepared a poultice, spread it on Gordain’s wound, and then covered it with a thin piece of cloth. Addie watched curiously as she began to wrap an outer cloth around the poultice to hold it in place.

“
Who did this to him?” Maighdlin asked, though she knew the answer. She was met only with the sound of flames crackling in the hearth.

Finally,
Addie spoke. “One of the MacKinnon’s men. And Gordain half asleep, tryin’ to wake himself to defend his poor family. Truth be told, he weren’t just half asleep, he were half drunk too, there bein’ a celebration the evenin’ before.”

Maighdlin
couldn’t believe Gordain still lived. He was a big man with a broad chest and legs like tree trunks, his body a testament to living in a land of hills and frequent brandishing of sword and ax. His beard was dark red and bushy, shot through with gray, and there were deep laugh lines around his mouth. One of his hands was gnarled. Perhaps a former ax injury?

As
she finished wrapping the wound, a small hand appeared beside hers—the boy’s. His fingernails were chewed, but his hand was steady. “Will my big Papa live?” he asked.

“
I hope so,” Maighdlin said. The man on the bed groaned like a wounded ox and thrashed about. After a time, his breathing became steady. He coughed a little, and Addie pulled his plaid about him.

“
Will he live?” Addie said, repeating the boy’s question. “Will he?”

“
We ha’e given him a good chance, but it is up to God now,” Maighdlin said. “I will check on him later.” Using the bowl of water, she washed the blood from her hands, and left quietly.

23

After treating Gordain with the herbs, Maighdlin wandered about. She’d tried to help Addie with her chores, but Addie shooed her away. “Ye’ll need yer rest for the wedding festivities tonight and then for…” Addie didn’t complete the thought but Maighdlin knew what she had been about to say.
And then for the marriage bed.

She
found herself pouring her heart out to the woman about Tomas and what she’d suffered. How Elliot’s arrow had pierced Tomas’ heart, how Tomas had slumped over her, dead.

“
Och, but I ha’e been beastly to ye girl,” Addie said. “And none of the recent tragedy was yer fault. I am sorry, lass.” Maighdlin nodded and continued to talk, of her village, of her life there. Addie was a good listener. She gave her some advice, tried to calm her, assure her that Kade would not harm her. Then she suggested Maighdlin take a walk.

So
Maighdlin found herself in lush gardens drenched in color. There were even patches of white heather, which was rare, and prized for good luck. The gardens were walled and divided by yew hedges. Eventually she was drawn to a stone bench that afforded a view of the brown sandstone tower house where she’d been locked away, as well a field of lavender and the booming, jewel-green sea beyond.

She
heard the sounds of men and lads exercising, clashing swords in a nearby courtyard, and found that if she pushed some of the foliage aside, she could peer through the brush without being seen to watch them at their training.

Two
boys, wearing only trews, their saffron shirts discarded, continued to lift their swords and clash them heavily, blow after blow, neither giving in or showing weakness. The smaller of the two boys, a lean lad who sported a shock of orange hair, stumbled. The misstep cost him dearly. The larger boy quickly shoved him into the dirt and pressed a knee against his back. “Give in,” he commanded.

The
boy on the ground shook his head. “Ne’er!” He struggled to rise, and his formidable opponent removed his knee from against the lad’s back and dropped his sword.

“
’Tis yer funeral,” he said, and raised his fists. The two went at it, and soon the orange-haired boy lay sprawled on the ground, blood gushing down his pale chin. His lower lip trembled with exhaustion, and tears brimmed in his large, brown eyes. The victor made to kick the lad, and Maighdlin gasped as Kade stepped into view.

He
helped the trembling lad up, and his eyes speared the aggressor with a look. “’Tis not the MacAlister way to kick yer own brother when he is down.”

They
were brothers, sparing so?
Maighdlin thought.

“
But I would finish him if he were my enemy and no’ my brother!” the boy said, his hard, blue eyes flashing. “’Twould be no mere swat on the face or kick to his skinny rear quarters either, but a blade between his ribs!”

“
Ye both have shown great courage and mettle since the MacKinnon’s cowardly attack only days ago,” Kade said. “I understand ye lost yer father. I am truly sorry. Yer father was a good man, a brave man. What I ask is going to be difficult, but ‘twill make you successful warriors, worthy of the MacAlister name, and will honor yer father. I ask ye to save yer anger and rage for the battle to come, for ye’ll be fighting side by side to avenge yer father’s death, and soon.”

The
boys, chins slumped, both nodded, and Kade went on to critique their fighting and instruct them in their movements. Soon their heads were held high again. But it was Kade that Maighdlin couldna tear her eyes from.

He
was shirtless, and the waning, gold sunlight caught and caressed every lean, hard muscle in his arms, his back, and his chest. Sweat glistened on his taut, smooth skin and his midnight-dark hair flashed in the sun. His beautifully shaped hands guided the sword with deft and ease as his masculine voice utterly commanded. His own hazel eyes glowed brightly, but his face gave nothing away. Only when he’d finished, and the lads had walked away, did she detect a note of sadness on his handsome face.

Kade
was a dangerous man, a mystery.
He believes in his heart that I am a hated MacKinnon
, she thought.

“
Did ye enjoy that, Christel?” He turned, and a slow, close-lipped smile transformed his face into something more predatory.

“
How did ye know I was here?” Maighdlin said through the brush. She was glad he could not near the catch in her breath.

“
Yer naught the first maiden to peek through the brush and watch the men at their training. In fact, ‘tis said my grandmother Sibeal had the gardens designed and the benches installed for the sole purpose of watching the men folk. She was a lusty woman, and madly in love with her husband. She ne’er tired of watching him and made no secret about it.” He paused. “Do ye like watching me, Christel?”

His
eyes glittered intensely. Once again, Maighdlin couldn’t be sure if it was desire or hatred she saw in them. He thrust his sword point into the ground.

“
Highlander, ye left yer left side open for a split second too long when ye demonstrated that last move.” Elliot had taught her a little about fighting with a sword.

He
arched a brow. “Is that so? Perhaps ye’ll show me what ye mean?”

She
skittered through the brush and stood beside him.

“
Well?” he said.

She
managed to lift the sword, though it was achingly heavy. “When ye turned like this,” she demonstrated, “ye left yer left side unprotected for a second. And that could prove deadly in battle with a seasoned foe.” He waited, raising a brow.

She
slashed out and his long sword met hers with a shivering clash that she felt up her entire arm. He didn’t even seem to feel it.

“
Show me where.”

“
I just did, Highlander.”

“
With yer hands.”

She
swallowed. The sun glinted off his silky black hair and caught the amber in his eyes. She could feel his heat, see the rising of his chest, the pulse at his throat and the long, lean line of his tense jaw as his he spoke.

“
Show me.”

She
reached out and her trembling fingers gently traced his ribs to show him where she meant. His body was hot and slick, and her fingers ached to caress the matt of dark hair on his chest, explore the muscles banded across it. Yet she withdrew her hand, her face heated.

He
seemed surprised by her sword-fighting knowledge. “What woman knows how to use a sword? Who taught ye that?”

“
A friend.”

“
What else did yer friend teach ye?” He pulled her close, palming her sex through her tunic. “Did he teach ye this?” he said, rubbing her between her legs. “Or this?” His lips ground over hers. Then his hand was squeezing her breast until her nipple hardened, his finger circling it through the cloth, sending shivers of heat to her very core. His breathing was harsh. He caught her lower lip gently in his teeth, then his lips traveled down her neck.

“
Hmmm,” she moaned.

“
Well?”

“
Hmmm?”

“
Did yer friend kiss ye like I kiss ye?” His voice was a growl.

“
Nay, he….”

“
Did ye love him, Christel?” His eyes burned dark gold.

“
What?”

“
I’ll make ye forget him….”
He thought she had a lover in the village?

He
nibbled her ear lobe and then he was kissing her again, more roughly this time, hungrily. Maighdlin pulled away. “Och, but yer arrogance knows no bounds! Ye know naught about me!” She stalked off, his masculine laughter following her. She felt confusion and shame at the heat that had spiraled between her legs, remembering how he’d spanked her bare bottom and touched her, how his fingers had moved inside her, at the ache and restlessness she did not understand.

She
walked to the farthest edges of the gardens and stared at the heaving sea, lost in her thoughts and fears. It had been bad enough to be misunderstood by her own people, and perhaps her father, Erskina, and Elliot were the only ones who cared for her. But it would be much worse to remain an outcast here, in the midst of the powerful MacAlister clan. What if Kade should grow weary of her, withdraw his tenuous protection? How would she be treated? Would he go so far as to have her beaten…or killed? Or would she simply be forgotten?

The
man was an enigma. She did not understand him. She shivered, trying to rub warmth back into her arms and hands. It saddened her that no one from the village had come to her rescue. Then she chided herself. What an addled thought! If they’d come, they’d have been slaughtered like sheep! It wasn’t fair to expect it.

Once
she was married, once she’d…given herself to Kade, she’d send word to her village that she was alive, somehow. She wanted no more bloodshed on her hands. No more! Perhaps in time, she could return to her village. How was her father? Erskina? And Elliot, who was like a brother to her? Her heart ached for them.

Maybe
one day Kade would forget his anger, his lust, his revenge, and then…and then she would be forgotten too, like a lonely snowflake in a blizzard. It was not as if she’d ever known kindness or warmth at the hands of man. And certainly, due to her strange gift, none had ever truly desired to be close to her, fearing perhaps that if they did become so, she would foresee their future in a horrible dream. Yet Kade wasn’t afraid of her gift. He didn’t fret that she’d seen him in her dreams.

She
made her way back to the main hall with its riotous noise and men slurping from tankards and continued on through narrow, dimly lit corridors to Kade’s chamber. She wondered if Kade was right. Could she shape her future, maybe even change it from a feared course?

Her
heart beat rapidly as she thought about her nightmare, about waking up to Kade’s unexpected, tender embrace. She didn’t have much hope of changing her future, but she was determined to take small steps, to have small pleasures. And she would start with a wild kiss. Like a kiss she’d heard other village maidens talk about experiencing during the Bealtunn. Maighdlin was determined at least once in her life to experience that at her own initiation. And she was looking forward to shocking Kade, for she was sure he would not expect it. Nor would he expect her to come willingly to his bed. The thought of that masculine mouth ravaging her own did strange things to her body, enemy or not.

Maighdlin
was relieved to find Kade’s chamber empty when she entered it. She needed to gather her thoughts, and her strength.