Time After Time (100 page)

Remembering the damp blanket she tried to cover Bram with the edge. But his hands shoved her forward. The blanket was dry from the heat anyway. His had long dried out as well.

• • •

Unable to see, Kaireen held one hand on the blanket and the other in front of her.

Bram shoved her forward. If not for her arm stretched in front of her like a sightless woman, she would have smacked her head against the stone wall.

“What is this?” she choked.

Perhaps she should have led them out. Bram had forced them both into the kitchen’s hearth. The fire laughed at them from the doorway.

“There is no way out now.”

“Let me handle this.” His tone sounded harsh.

“Och, you have done a fine job now.” She huffed when he backed into her.

“We are safer here than anywhere else inside.”

“Ah, so when the fire traps us underneath the beams, we will die together then.”

Thought she heard his teeth grate. “No, ’tis the hearth we are taking shelter in. Fire will not be able to burn these stones.”

He was right, but the smoke crawling in did not lift her spirits.

She shifted the blanket to cover them. Her eyes caught the flicker of flames on the wood floor of the kitchen. “I cannot breathe.”

“Cover your face with this.” He handed back the blanket to her.

She shook her head, but his blackened face caused her to obey.

What was the use? They were trapped. They would die together, but at least she would not have to worry about marrying. The thought of her dying and Bram alive to marry Rebecca made her laugh.

“What?”

“Nothing. Thinking of what I shall do to my sister if we survive.” She hunched inside the hearth with Bram’s back facing the brunt of the fire. No doubt he wanted to keep the flames from her as long as possible. But the fire chewed at the wooden walls of the kitchen.

Through the smoke, she heard shouts, but they sounded so far away.

His body pressed closer to hers and she licked her cracked lips.

“Fire rages against us and the thing on your mind is a kiss?” His teeth gleamed white against his soot colored face.

“No, I wonder if I have the strength to push you into the fire for getting us here.”

“Well,” he winked. “’Tis not bad idea if you were thinking of kissing. Mayhap we need more practice if you cannot admit your thoughts freely to me yet.”

She frowned, but already her lips tingled from the thought of his kiss.

With a coughed chuckle, he then leaned his head to her. His lips brushed hers as if she held nectar for him.

The thought of death lingered in her mind so she relaxed into his embrace. After all, if they died she would be forced to marry no one. Her lips opened for him with a sigh. Bravely she soothed her tongue across his. But he did not laugh at her attempts. His tongue danced with hers. Taken aback, she clung to his shoulders. Liquid heat melted her inside and it had nothing to do with the fire crackling around them.

He eased her hands from his shoulders and ended their kiss.

“Enough for now.” He said between coughs. “The smoke will kill us soon.”

When she opened her eyes, smoke engulfed the kitchen in darkness. She no longer saw his face and coughing racked her body.

“Lay down, the end will be soon.” He whispered to her.

She obeyed, and was amazed she breathed a little better. Again, she thought of her torn dress and cursed. If Elva had warned her sooner about the fire, she would have donned riding clothes which would not be torn to shreds as they were now.

What if they died when the fire eased? All would see her dead with Bram and her legs exposed. It would be the talk of the keep for years.

Bram stumbled forward. His breath warm upon her face.

“Thought t-they would have s-soothed the f-fire by now.” He sounded apologetic through his horse coughs echoed inside the hearth. “I guess I will not taste the warriors’ banquet in Valhalla.”

She ground her teeth. “Well, at least I do not have to worry about our wedding anymore.”

“No need to worry even if we were not dying.” He leaned his head on the stone floor. “You would have pleased me regardless of what you wore or did not wear to our bed on our wedding day. Though in case of another fire, I would advise against a gown sweeping along the floor as this one did.”

She punched him in the shoulder and then worried she had broken the bones in her hand.

Smoke squeezed them. Until blackness settled over her and she could not breathe, could not think.

• • •

From a dark tunnel someone carried her. Her eyes were welded her eyes shut.

Voices argued around her. “The fire did not touch her skin too badly.” A woman said.

“Did the fire burn her flesh?” She recognized the voice of one of the stable hands had fallen into a fire when he was a babe. His face was like a melted candle along one side.

Her hands bandaged, she scrubbed at her eyes to open them. Standing around her as she was sat on the ground was Elva, Shay, and some of the other women.

The fire of Shay’s home was extinguished. But all that remained was the hearth and smoldering splinters. Fires mocked them from the other cottages and the field.

“Where is Bram?”

No one met her gaze. How could he abandon her like this? It was his fault for not listening to her when she tried to warn him.

Elva forced a vial of liquid in her bandaged hand.

“Drink this,” she whispered. “Will ease the coughing and clear your lungs.”

Though the liquid stung her throat, she did not weep.

Chapter Fifteen

Kaireen stared at the half moon creeping through the clouds. She heard coughing in the distance and people milling about.

Obviously she was ill-suited to have a husband. After her mourning, she would enlist in the convent. God must want her as a nun if disaster trod so fiercely on her heels. All of his bravery flooded back to her. He telling her to leave when the other Lochlanns came, whatever he said to Owen made the man stop beating his wife, putting up with her temper and harsh words, and even today fighting the fire valiantly to save them. The image of him covered in smoke and ash while he rescued her niece pulled at a piece inside her. She searched her mind for any noble men she knew who would have done as much as he and was chastened to know no one.

Fire eased its possession of the homes and fields as the men and women pounded the last traces with soaked blankets and cloaks.

Two chimneys toward above the wreckage like watchtowers. One was the one she and Bram had shared. Nothing stirred in the remains. She accepted the hugs of the women, feeling numb.

A man’s hand wrapped in bandages and covered in soot extended to her. “Let the woman and child ride with you.” The voice, tinted with familiarity in her mind, was clouded behind raspy coughs.

She nodded woodenly. Guilt made her look to thank the man for his help with the fire, when Bram’s azure eyes held her. He smiled and his teeth lit his darkened face. She realized he held her hand, but while she wanted to keep holding on, pride made her jerk away.

“Someone must not want us dead.” He winked.

Her handmaid pushed a colored flask into Bram’s empty hand. “Drink this to rid your cough.”

He downed the liquid and then handed back the flask. “Tastes like cedar and sand.”

“Never mind.” Elva waved her hand. “Sit and rest before you ride back.”

“I am fine.” He mumbled and then fell to his knees. “Well, maybe a rest will do me good.”

Bram coughed three more times, then vomited black mucus. Then his coughing stopped. He breathed in and the muscles in his face relaxed. “Thank you.”

Elva nodded and then stalked away to assist others.

Shivering from a gust of wind, Kaireen moved away to gather her sister and niece. Despite nearly dying, she could not keep a smile from her face. She mounted and waited for her sister to hand her Megan and then to mount as well. Her niece, Megan, sat before her in the saddle, her sister behind her.

Bram strode forward. “Take care.” He scratched her mare behind the ears. “This fire did not rouse from natural causes.”

She frowned at him. Megan whimpered against her.

He leaned forward, his hand brushing her knee. And she tried not to think about his hand on her bare skin. The fire had damaged this gown beyond repair and her shift did not give her much cover. “The hearth in the bedroom was the only one with logs.”

“Perhaps a spark started the blaze upon the roof.” Kaireen shrugged.

“No, the fire was strongest in the front of your sister’s dwelling. The wind carried the flames sideways to the others. I wager this fire was created by the hand of an enemy.”

Who would want to kill her sister? Her mind rummaged for answers, but found none save the spy.

“Take them to your father. We must offer them safety.”

She opened her mouth to state she knew what needed done, when he whacked her mare’s rump.

Chapter Sixteen

Rhiannon hung her mistress’ gown on the edge of the window. A cloth covered the stone sill, allowing her to air the gown for tonight’s supper and not dirty the material.

She fingered the velvet gown. It took her hours produce the color for her mistress. Glancing around her, she then snatched up the dress. Held the emerald material to her as if it was hers.

She sauntered to the polished bronze looking glass and admired her reflection. She did not see the lines on her face or the grey hair stretched tight into a bun underneath her head covering.

As if accepting a compliment, she bowed her head with a smile. She did not see her eyes grown cold from years of unhappiness and hatred. She returned the gown to the window. Longingly, she brushed her hands on the front of the gown. Velvet, soft like fur, but shorter. The color deepened as she stroked the material.

She stepped back. Her hand drew out the tattered envelope tied to the underside of her skirts. She kissed the broken seal. The seal of her clan, O’Neill.

Curse her husband Angus who sent her into the mist. So long she had waited.

Now in this letter she had her means of revenge, and the promise of enough gold to buy as many fancy gowns as she wished. Have her lord and lady kiss her feet.

For seventeen years she had been a servant here. When she arrived and told them of her plight, she wanted the Laird and Lady to rise up against her husband. The Laird refused and wanted her gone. His wife argued that it would be Christian to take her in. He agreed, only if she would become a slave. Rhiannon refused and left. No other clan would take her in. Swallowing her pride for the moment, she returned to take her place as a member of the lower class. But she knew one day she would have her revenge on her husband and the Liannons.

She recognized Angus’s sword when the child Kaireen returned. She had heard her mistress bemoan her reckless daughter many times, and Rhiannon had stoked the fire with her words to learn the details of the sword. Straightway, she sent a letter to the O’Neill keep—to the one family member who loved her, her son.

He shared her feelings regarding the laird, her husband. Rhiannon knew the laird did not know of his son’s hatred toward him.

Hatred she helped to fester and grow in the child’s mind. When Angus had discovered her secret, he had her banished, but only after his sons pleaded not to kill her.

“Never let him know how you truly feel about him,” she had whispered to the young boy as she hugged him.

Angus thought he had remedied the problem. But it was too late, her roots had taken hold.

• • •

After Elva’s treatment, Kaireen and Bram’s hands were healed from the fire. Since their hands had been treated and bandaged in the dark, neither saw how much damage was done. Elva told them to keep the bandages on for a full day and then they could take them off. Her hands had been red and tender when she removed the bandages. Even the cook and servants felt pity for her as they did not require as much manual labor from her.

Kaireen was pleased with her progress today from the previous night of kitchen work and the fire. She finished her duties in the kitchens. She had made mistakes, but pleased the cook with her idea of adding onions to the stew.

After the meal the second night, a few of the servants stayed to help her clean. Her punishment was one-third done. The worst was yet to come.

Rhiannon.

She could not recall one instance of her acting nice. Rhiannon made lye soap feel like heaven.

Kaireen plodded down the corridor to the lowest level of the keep. Gossip flew around concerning Bram and some type of blood eagle. Rumors ranged from beating one with eagles, to letting eagles eat a person’s flesh.

However, whatever it meant, the usual drunken manservant tonight did not have a drop of wine. He apologized to any woman he thought he may have bumped into. Sweat beaded his forehead and his eyes darted around as if the devil lurked to drag him away.

Kaireen smiled. She thought of Bram and his promise to always speak truth to her.

A blush swept over her as she remembered his other promises. Still, a part of her mind held a sliver of reluctance. Maybe this was a ruse as part of being a spy? Never had he given love as the reason for their marriage, only to obtain land.

Around the corner, Bram leaned against the wall.

Her breath caught in her throat. He wore a saffron tunic and hose. Cross gathers weaved round his legs and vanished into leather boots. His dimple made her flush. “I cannot stop thinking about you or our kisses.” He strode toward her.

But her feet stuck to the floor.

He reached for her and her rebellious body softened in his embrace.

His lips lowered to hers and she threw her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. What did it matter if they shared a few kisses? She still was not going to marry him anyway.

Aye, she remembered too well the feel of his lips upon hers. She did not care if anyone saw them. After the fire, she thought she might never see him again. She leaned into his arms; aware of the flutter in her chest which made her think she must have lost her breath or maybe the fire’s remains had yet to be purged from her lungs.