The Mirror & The Magic

by Coral Smith Saxe

  He swept her up then, and with her arms still tight around him he carried her down the rocky little path and across the brook to a darkened grove beneath the stars. He set her down in the center of a ring of fragrant pines, his hands on her waist. "Julia, I"

  She put her hand to his lips, shaking her head. She wanted no explanations, no questions tonight. All she wanted was him.

  Slowly she reached down and pulled her gown off over her head. She kicked away her shoes, rolled her stockings off, and stood before him, clad only in her thin undergown.

  He raised his hands and pulled the clasp from her hair. The heavy waves tumbled to her shoulders and she shook them out, glorying in the sheer pleasure of physical sensation. Then, ever so gently and slowly, he raised the hem of her undergown and lifted it off and away. She stood before him, clad in starlight and trembling with delicious anticipation. She could feel her heart beating faster as his eyes seemed to drink her into their depths.

  To her astonishment, he sank to his knees before her, his head bowed.

  "Darach?" What could this mean, this tall, proud warrior chief on his knees before her?

  He lifted his head. "Ye're more beautiful than anything I've ever beheld," he said, his voice tight. "I want to honor ye, Julia."

  Her heart contracted for an instant, then expanded with still more love than she ever thought possible. She knelt before him on the thick carpet of sweet-smelling pine needles. "Let's honor one another," she whispered.

  Smiling into his eyes, she unfastened the heavy clasp that held his breacan. She smoothed it off his shoulder, then set about undoing his belt and sword. After a few awkward fumblings, she set them aside and pulled the rest of his plaid away.

  Her eyes had grown accustomed to the dim light in the grove. She could see the pulse that beat at the base of his throat, and the quick rise and fall of his chest. As she removed his boots she smoothed a hand along his hard-muscled legs, ruffling the dark hair and enjoying the feel of their latent power.

  He had untied the opening to his shirt. She gathered the garment into her hands and pulled it up and over his head. She set it aside and sat back on her heels, gazing with fascination and delight at the magnificent body that, so far, she had only been allowed to imagine.

  He was as muscular and lean as she had thought, with a thick mat of dark hair that covered his chest and made a tapering trail down to his navel. His skin glowed with health and warmth. Here and there, though, she saw whitened, formidable scars, marks that reminded her that she was not with just any man, but with a warrior, a man who had wielded a sword in many battles and who had been cut by the swords of others. The sight of all that power and ferocity, quiet and laid bare to her vision, touched her deeply. She knew that appearing in any way weak, vulnerable, or unguarded was anathema to Darach. His trust, as well as his passion, brought tears to her eyes.

  ''Whisht," he murmured, reaching up to touch her cheek. "What cause d'ye have for tears, love?"

  "You're so beautiful."

  "Och, ye are an addled one." He grinned. "I'm as crisscrossed with sword bites as a kitchen table, and I'm no slender youth like our Tommy." He rubbed his hands over the mat of hair on his chest. "And I'm as woolly as one of our kine in winter."

  "You're beautiful," she repeated.

  "Have it your way," he said, smiling. "So long as ye're pleased."

  He reached for his plaid and spread it out on the ground beside them. He stood and reached for her hand, pulling her to her feet. He put a hand to her cheek and caressed her, sliding it along her shoulder and down to the curve of her waist. "Is this what ye want, Julia?" he whispered.

  His hand stroked over her belly, causing her to shiver. She closed her eyes as he trailed his fingers up and around her breast, circling and circling around. "Is this what ye want?" he asked again.

  She was swaying on her feet, hypnotized by the slow, slow progress of his loving. She nodded, unable to speak.

  "Ah, that's good," he murmured. "We agree at last, my Julia."

  He placed his hard, callused palms flat against the taut little peaks that he'd aroused. She gave a soft sigh of pleasure and arched up toward him.

  "Not yet, sweet. Let me give ye all."

  She wasn't sure she could stand all, let alone stand to wait. But she stood, quivering like the faint breeze among the pines overhead, accepting his slow, sweet gifts.

  In the dim recesses of her conscious mind, she wondered at the change in Darach MacStruan. She'd imagined him touching her so many times, but she'd never dreamed that this big, hardened, obstinate man would be such a tender, thorough, passionate lover. He seemed utterly indefatigable, utterly impervious to the quite obvious needs of his own body. He showered her with kisses, bathed her in caresses, tasted and touched and soothed and aroused every inch of her body. He lavished her breasts with heated attentions, suckling and smoothing and cherishing. His hands and lips found pleasure places she hadn't even known existed on her own body, and he kissed and stroked her from head to toe, taking infinite care to leave no spot untouched. And when at last her knees threatened to give way, and her moans of pleasure turned to urgent pleas, he laid her gently down upon his plaid and covered her completely with his warm, hard form.

  "Darach," she murmured against his neck, burying her face in the hot, spicy refuge of his skin. "I don't think I can stand any more."

  "Nay, sweet?" He parted her legs with his knee and settled himself between her thighs.

  "Nay."

  He moved up ever so slightly. She arched up, trying to pull him to her. He held still. "Ken ye feel what I'm feelin', Julia?"

  "IYes. Darach!"

  He raised himself up on his hands so that he could gaze straight into her eyes. She saw such tenderness there and such intense passion it almost took her breath away.

  "Are ye ready to be wi' me? Truly, love?"

  She nodded. "I want to be wi' ye, love. Completely." She closed her eyes as he eased forward again.

  "Look at me, sweet."

  She opened her eyes and saw his handsome face, starlit and shadowed and intent with his loving of her. "I want to see ye when I come to ye."

  She couldn't have looked away if she'd wanted to. He raised his hips and, his eyes never leaving hers, joined them together in one smooth, firm thrust. She cried out with the sweetness of their union and clung to him, shaking.

  "Whisht, love," he murmured, gathering her to him. "Whisht. The best is yet to be."

  And he was as good as his word.

  Alasdair turned from the sight of the couple standing in the center of the grove. His stomach roiled with anger and frustration.

  So Julia had made her choice and Darach had staked his claim, he thought. And once again he was second best, the younger brother, the second in command.

  He'd had enough. He couldn't stay around here and see Darach and Julia in the morning, both of them wrapped in afterglow, exchanging glances and touches and intimate words. He'd had enough of that already, watching the rest of the clan reunited.

  He headed back to the cave, grabbed up his pack, and was off while the rest of his world enjoyed the pleasures of their beds.

  Chapter Twenty

  The following day was one that would remain honey-drenched and magical in Julia's memory. All thoughts of time and partings were forgotten. She and Darach rose late from their bower, languid and lazy, sorting their clothes from the tangle among the leaves and branches. They washed in the icy brook, Julia spluttering and gasping in shock while Darach pretended the water was as warm as a tub by the fire. When they were dry and dressed, Darach took her hand and led her through the woods and across the streams, to the crags and down into the glens, showing her the wild beauty of his land.

  They spoke little, yet she sensed that volumes passed between them. A glance, a touch, the simple act of sharing the day together with no intrusions or duties to distract them was bond enough. They came together often to share a kiss or an embrace, and by midday sought out the coolness of another
dry small cave Darach knew, there to expand upon the delights they'd known the previous night.

  They lunched on berries and wild carrots they found, neither of them particularly hungry for sustenance beyond their loving. While they ate, Julia watched as Darach's face, so often creased and set with tension of late, relaxed and softened into an almost boyish peace. She couldn't remember ever seeing him smile so often. She felt healed and replenished herself, finding peace in his tender regard and in the utter solitude they shared.

  "We needed a vacation," she said aloud, leaning against his solid side as they sat on a sun-warmed rock overlooking a narrow glen.

  "Vacation?"

  "Yes. You know, a time to get away from it all."

  He pondered this and nodded. She peered up at him. "Oops, maybe I shouldn't have reminded you."

  "Nay, it's all right. I was surprised, is all. I didna think I could leave my cares behind. But I have. Wi' ye, sweet Julia."

  "You ought to do this more often. I'm afraid the stress is going to do you in."

  "Stress?"

  "Yes. The pressures of being the chief, having all the lairds looking to you for leadership. The Morestons. Alasdair. Me." She grinned as she said this last.

  He quirked a smile her way. "Aye. But I don't think I want to get away from ye, lass. If I'm gettin' away, you're goin' to be right by my side."

  "I'm glad," she whispered, laying her head upon his shoulder. "Just remember, all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy."

  "I told ye before I'm no' a boy," he said in a soft growl.

  She looked up at him with a smile. "Yes, I know that. I knew it then, and I most definitely know it now."

  He put his arm around her and they continued to watch the shadows of the clouds pass across the green glen.

  Alasdair tramped along the path, heading aimlessly up the hillside on the other side of the village. He'd hardly slept last night, letting his restlessness carry him along as far as he could go without getting utterly locked in the darkness of the forest. Now, at midday, the sun cast fat, golden shafts of its light through the forest canopy. He scarcely noticed the beauty of the day about him or heard the bird songs that threaded the skies overhead.

  He had been furious at first when he'd seen Darach and Julia locked in each other's arms beneath the stars. But as he'd walked, he'd come to the realization that envy, not jealousy, was what had ignited his temper. Somehow, if he had been in love with Julia, he knew that he would have spoken by now. And he would have cheerfully waded in and taken Darach's head off with his own hands at the sight of them together.

  What he wanted was what he sensed they shared, a passion that seemed to make them both come more alive in each other's presence, that prompted them to such heat that they must find expression in temper, or creation, or in an embrace. It wasn't mere lust; he knew what that was and how easily it could be satisfied and dismissed. This was something different, he told himself. Something that couldn't be ignored, something that grew, somehow, rather than diminished, when it found expression.

  "Och, the wanderin' philosopher," he muttered as he climbed the narrow ravine near the Moreston border. "In love wi' the idea o' love."

  "And what would be wrong with that?"

  He had his knife out in the blink of an eye. He glanced around the clearing where he stood, looking for the owner of the voice.

  "Come out and show yourself," he called. He was but a pace or two from Moreston land, he thought ruefully. The old standing stones nearby lay just inside the MacStruan border. Had he walked into a trap?

  There was a rustle of leaves to his left. He whirled.

  "I'm here." Someone tapped his right shoulder and he almost rose up into the air. He didn't think, he reacted. He seized the intruder by the hair and made ready to divide his enemy's body from his soul.

  His mouth fell open and he nearly dropped his knife in surprise at the sight that greeted him. This was no hardened Moreston henchman or hunter.

  It was a lass.

  Fathomless fawn-colored eyes returned his stare with an astonishment that he knew must mirror his own. He set her back a ways from him, still holding her pale, red-gold braid in his grasp. He looked her carefully up and down, not even cognizant that his boldness might give offense.

  She was someoneor somethingthat could have stepped out of a tale of yore. Her almond-shaped golden eyes held no fear of him, only wonder, and while he could see the pulse beating fast in her slender throat, she didn't seemed overly frightened. Her green cloak and rust-red gown, with her pale, ginger-gold hair, made her look as if she were a part of the forest itself: wild, eternally young and ancient of days, full of mysterious life and nature's secrets. Verdant. Beautiful. Magical.

  "Are ye real?" he whispered at last.

  The young woman nodded, her eyes never leaving his.

  "Who are ye?"

  "I am Celandine. Celandine Talcott."

  Sunset was drawing near when Darach and Julia returned to the caves. The clan had spent the day much as they had, Julia noted, judging from the satisfied smiles and intimate touches that passed between the couples. The children had been fed and toted off to their beds. The lairds gathered at the fireside, awaiting Darach's word.

  "So," said Niall, rocking back on his heels with an ill-concealed grin.

  "So?" asked Darach.

  "Ye passed a pleasant nicht, I trust?"

  Darach gave him a bland stare. "Concerned for ma health, are ye?"

  Bruce clapped him on the shoulder. "O' course we're concerned, lad. It's no' every day that our chief takes a woman for his ain." He lowered his silver brows. "Ye treated our wee Julia right, did ye not?"

  Heat spread from the base of her neck to the roots of her hair at Bruce's words. She waited for what Darach would say in reply.

  "I think we have some plannin' to do," was all he said. He looked about. "Where's Alasdair?"

  "We havena seen him today. He didna sleep here, that any of us knows." Niall grinned again. "Not that we were payin' all that much attention."

  Darach gave a brief smile, but his eyes looked worried. "Damn the lad and his wanderin' ways. His restless feet'll land him in hell if he doesna learn some sense."

  "I saw him last night," Tommy ventured.

  "When?"

  "When I went out to relieve myself. He was comin' back from the grove. He looked as hot as a bear wi' a thorn in its bum.''

  "The grove?"

  Julia met Darach's eyes over the heads of his men. They both knew what Alasdair must have seen if he had been in the grove last night. Her heart ached for the man she was coming to view as a real brother. Had Darach's suspicions been correct, at least as far as Alasdair was concerned? Did Alasdair feel more than mere brotherly love for her?

  Her spirits, so buoyant from the past hours spent in Darach's company, now sank as she took in the darkness of his glare. Here was a new trouble he could lay at her door, she thought. If she caused him to lose his only brother, what might happen to the tentative love they'd so recently discovered?

  Darach swung his attention back to his men. "He must have gone off last night. But he would have come back by now. Niall, you lead the others back to the village. He may have gone back there, but there's something about this that bodes ill, to me. Ross, Tommy, Dugan, come ye wi' me."

  The men set off at once to make ready. Julia crossed quickly to Darach and took his arm.

  "You think he saw us?" she asked softly.

  "Aye." He pulled his arm away slowly. "I've got to find him."

  She tugged at his plaid, holding him. "You know, don't you, that I"

  "That ye what?" His eyes searched hers. "That I don't feel . . . that way . . . for him?"

  He looked disappointed somehow. "Aye. I believe ye, Julia." He gave her a quick kiss. "Mind what Niall tells ye, ye headstrong lass. I'll see ye safe at home." He started away.

  "I'm not going with Niall."

  He turned and came back, his eyes snapping. "What did ye say?"


  "I said I'm not going with Niall and the others. I'm staying here."

  His eyes narrowed. "Not this again."

  "Yes, again. I'm a woman. I don't belong down in the village with you men."

  He bowed his head and groaned. "Saints, Julia, ye're goin' to be the death o'me." He looked up and placed his hands on her shoulders. "We need ye down there. Who'll look after the lads if they're ill? Who'll do the cookin' so we don't kill ourselves wi' your eecoleye?"

  She stiffened. "Is that all I am? Nurse and cook? Well, any of these women here can cook and clean and nurse you big louts better than I can, I'm willing to bet. Why don't you take one of them?"

  "I don't want one o' them!"

  Heads turned all around the cave. Darach looked about with embarrassment. He lowered his voice. "I don't want one o' them," he repeated. "Besides, I can't keep watch over ye if ye're up here."

  "YouIyou!" Julia could only splutter in her outrage at his words. "What the hell do you mean, keep watch over me?" He put a finger to her lips. "Whisht, woman. Listen. I only meant to say that"

  "You only meant to say that after all this, after last night, after today, after all of it, you still don't trust me! You still think I'm one of your damned Morestons, don't you?"

  "Julia, it's not that"

  "Damn you to hell, Darach MacStruan," she hissed. "Danm your ever-watchful chief of Clan MacStruan eyes!"

  She whirled away from him, heading back into the rear passages.

  "Darach!" someone called behind her as she fled. "We'd best leave while there's light."

  She kept running until she found an empty, silent niche in one of the far chambers. There, she sank to the ground and wept in frustration.

  Mairi went out to bid her son good-bye. She leaned on her staff and peered up into his glowering face with wry amusement.

  "So, ye've toppled at last," she said, chuckling. Darach's frown deepened. "She's a meet match for my thornbush," Mairi went on. ''See if ye can hold a place open for her in that crowded heart o' yours."