The Ghost

by Greyson, Maeve

  “Beg my forgiveness?” She combed her fingers through his hair, splaying it across his shoulder as he rested his head between her breasts. “For what do ye need forgiving?” Surely, he didn’t speak of the past? She had moved that blame to fate’s shoulders. The fault of all that had happened was no longer his.

  Lifting his head, he smiled. “I intended our first loving to be slower—savoring each other for hours.” His slight shifting with the barest shrug, a mix of confession and embarrassment, made her heart swell even more. “But I couldna help myself. I needed to possess ye and have ye possess me.”

  With a turn of her head on the pillow, she looked toward the window. “’Tis still early. See the slant of the moonlight on the floor. It’s verra far from its zenith.”

  He rolled with her in his arms, settling back into the pillows with her cradled on top of him. Gently, he lifted her until she straddled him. Pressing his hand to the center of her chest, he kept it there for the longest while, a faint smile tugging at one side of his mouth. “I love the feel of yer heart through the softness of yer skin.” He took her hand and placed it in the same spot on his chest. “We are matched. Feel it?”

  She closed her eyes, focusing on the strong thud against her palm. He spoke the truth. Their hearts thumped with the same steady beat. “A good omen for certain,” she whispered as she leaned forward for a kiss.

  “Aye, my love.” He rolled with her again, resuming the ancient dance and rocking into her with a tantalizingly slow rhythm. “A damn fine omen.”

  Now, she understood why some called this loving. For that was what this was. Unexplainable joy. Excitement that squeezed your heart and knitted your soul to another’s. A bliss like no other. She gave, but so did he. Both reaped pleasures of which she had never dreamed. Never had she known such a sensation of being this alive was possible. Once would never be enough. Nor would hours, days, or years spent with this man.

  A lazy, fully sated smile overcame her as she collapsed atop his chest, shifting with its every rise and fall. Aye, this was how it should be between a husband and wife. For the first time in her life, she knew in her heart she no longer faced the world alone. No more did she fear the future, or what terrors life might hold. Never again. She had this. She had now. And it was enough.

  *

  On his side, head propped in his hand, he watched her sleep. He allowed his gaze to follow the delicious curve of her fine round rump as she lay on her stomach. The sun gave her skin the glowing luster of a pearl. Unable to resist, he leaned over and kissed the pair of dimples tucked in the small of her back, each of them nestled on either side of her spine.

  With a soft snort, she wiggled deeper into the softness of the feather ticking and buried her face in the pillow.

  He almost laughed out loud but contained it. She gave him such joy. He had always heard that when two souls meant to be together finally met, they would experience rare contentment. Never had he believed it. He figured it a silly legend made up by washerwomen bored with their chores. But now he knew better. The adage was true.

  “Why are ye staring?” she mumbled as she cracked an eye open.

  “Because I am a greedy man, m’love.” He leaned over again and nibbled a trail of kisses along her shoulder and down her back. “I will never get my fill of ye.”

  She shifted beneath his ministrations, her sleepy groan sounding like a muffled purr. “Such a fine husband, ye are.”

  “And blessed with an even finer wife,” he murmured as he pondered which part of her to enjoy next. Mind made up to start at the top and work his way down, he feathered nibbles along her jawline and gently pulled her closer.

  With another purring sigh, her brow puckered the slightest bit. “I wish ye had waited ’til daylight to stare yer fill rather than relighting all the candles. They’re too bright.”

  That drew a laugh that he couldn’t hold back. “There’s nary a candle lit in this room, my precious one.” He leaned across her, cupping her luscious buttock and squeezing while he peered out the window. “I canna see the exact slant of the sun from here, but from the shadows on the floor and the hollow feeling in my wame, I would guess it to be some time after midday.”

  “What?” She pushed him aside and uprighted herself, squinting against the day’s brilliance. “Are ye telling me we’ve slept away the day?”

  “Aye.” Clasping his hands behind his head, he rolled back into the pillows, enjoying the view of his wife’s front as much as he had enjoyed her rear. Perhaps even more. “Dinna tell me ye’ve already forgotten how little we slept last night?”

  Her pinched look softened, and she gifted him with a suggestive smile. “Never will I forget our wedding night.” Mischief and so much more danced in her eyes. “And I shall tell our daughters to be sure to find a man willing to rub their feet, as well as other places.”

  With a hearty laugh, he dove forward and pinned her underneath him. “And what shall ye tell our sons, my wife of such great wisdom?”

  “That the surest way to win a lass is to rub her feet!”

  Never would he get his fill of this wondrous woman. They had loved away the night. Why not love away the day? His empty wame growled in protest at being ignored. Loudly.

  Brenna exploded with a belly laugh, but then her stomach growled, too. “Perhaps, we should find some food to keep up our strength, aye?” Hand to her heart, a guilty look creased her brow. “And I must see to Keigan to be sure he fared well enough last night. This is the first time he’s been away from me since…”

  She didn’t finish, and for that, Magnus was grateful. He gave her a sound kiss, then retreated. “Aye, m’love. We have the rest of our lives together to enjoy our loving. Perhaps we best emerge from our sanctuary.”

  With an impish gleam in her eyes, she followed his retreat, pushing him back into the pillows as she straddled him. “I wasna trying to shoo ye away, mo chridhe,” she stressed with a suggestive flexing against him. “Ye ken, I’ll never deny ye.” Her eyes closed as she seated herself with a rocking wiggle that threatened to spill his seed before he had done right by his lady love.

  He swallowed hard, struggling to maintain control. Hands encircling her waist, he bucked beneath her. “I pray ye never deny me,” he groaned. “For I love ye with a fury I canna explain.”

  She increased the pace of her ride, holding fast to his shoulders and treating him to a delicious shudder. “I will never deny ye, my love.” Her eyes flew open, and she treated him to a wicked grin. “Of course, I will thank ye to give me a wee bit of rest whenever I’ve just birthed one of our bairns.”

  “I am yer servant, m’love. Whatever ye wish is yers.” And then the ability to speak left him. All he knew was sweet agony and blessed release. Brenna joined him, crying out her pleasure.

  “Are ye all right, Auntie?” Keigan called from the other side of the bedchamber door. “Greer and me brought ye some food since ye and Da didna come down to break yer fast, nor show yerselves to take the midday meal.” He paused, obviously waiting for an answer.

  Magnus grinned and wiggled beneath her. His breathing hadn’t yet settled back to normal, and neither had hers. “Are ye no’ going to answer him, mo chridhe?” he whispered, unable to resist teasing her.

  She poked him in the chest and failed at assuming a stern scowl. “Yer da and I shall be right out, my thoughtful lad. Give us a moment, aye?”

  Muffled murmurings came from the other side of the threshold. “Aye, we’ll clear away the food carts whilst we wait for ye. Greer said yer both probably still naked and trying to catch yer breath after trying to make a bairn—judging by the sounds ye was making afore ye knew we were here.”

  “Keigan!” The young maid’s horrified scolding came through the closed door loud and clear.

  Brenna covered her mouth, her laughter hissing out from between her fingers. Magnus didn’t try to hold back. His hearty laugh echoed throughout the room. Hell’s bells, he never thought he could love life so.

  “We best ma
ke haste before Keigan has poor Greer pulling every hair from her head.” She jumped from the bed and hurried behind the privy screen before Magnus could snag hold of her for one last embrace.

  “Poor Greer should be used to it. She’s helped in the nursery enough times to know that bairns will repeat everything they hear.”

  “Be that as it may,” she argued above the sounds of splashing water. “I dinna wish the girl vexed, ye ken? Ye’ve no idea what a rarity it is to have such fine servants as those who work here at Tor Ruadh. Ye must speak to Keigan. He’ll sooner listen to ye than me. I’ve seen that in him already.”

  Her backhanded compliment about his word carrying more weight with the lad filled him with pride. “I’ll speak to him.” A groan escaped him as his feet hit the floor. He stretched and scratched all the parts of him that would much rather be back in the bed. “Ye ken my only clothing in here is my lèine, aye? I’m sure Greer’s seen such before, but ye seem worried about offending the lass.”

  “Then ye best be moving yer things from yer room to here. These are our chambers now.” She stepped out from behind the screen with a fresh chemise. The light from the window outlined her lovely form.

  Damn, if he wouldn’t love to take her back to the bed. He’d gone without food in the past and for much less pleasant reasons.

  She tossed a look at the door as she stepped into her everyday skirts and donned her stays, then her bodice. “Will ye go see how Keigan fared last night whilst I finish dressing? I’m nearly ready.”

  “The cost is a kiss.” With a mischievous grin, he tugged her into his arms before she could protest. “What say ye, wife?” he whispered so close his lips brushed across hers.

  “I say make it a quick one, my love, or we’ll be back in that bed and keeping our Keigan waiting.”

  He rewarded her with an appreciative groan and gave her a kiss he hoped made her ache for him as much as he ached for her.

  “Ye’re a rogue, ye know that, aye?” She gently but firmly removed herself from his embrace. “On wi’ ye now.”

  “And now, I’ll be needing yer shawl, m’lady.” He grinned down at the front of his tunic, his cock like a tent pole poking out the muslin.

  She threw it at him, shaking her head as he lashed it around his waist. “I warned ye!” Her scolding came off weak, and he loved her for it. She sounded happy. Contentment and relief swelled through him. Thank the gods he had made her happy.

  With a flick of her hand, she shooed him toward the door. “On wi’ ye now, while I tighten my laces and brush my hair.”

  Keigan’s laughter peeled out as Magnus entered the sitting room. “Ye’re wearing Auntie’s shawl!”

  “Just for that, my young scamp, ye can help me fetch my things today, ye ken?” He padded across the sitting room and circled the table Greer and Keigan had scooted in front of the window. A good-sized banquet met his gaze—far too much food for just himself and Brenna. Noting the size of the dome-covered platters, bowls of fruit, and pitchers of honeyed wine, Magnus turned to the red-faced maid and smiling child. “The two of ye brought in all this food? By yerselves?” He scanned the room, tossing a look at all the corners. Nary a cart, basket, or cloth sack could be seen anywhere.

  “We had a wee bit of help,” Greer confessed, resting a hand on Keigan’s shoulder and squeezing as she spoke.

  Keigan’s smile widened. “We been in here a while. Ye didna notice cause ye were—”

  Greer bumped Keigan with her hip, causing him to skitter sideways.

  “Anyways…” Keigan continued after pulling a face at Greer. He stepped closer and lowered his voice. “Is Auntie happy? Truly happy?”

  Magnus’s heart swelled. “Aye, son. I believe she is.”

  “I’ll be happier if ye grant me a hug,” Brenna said as she closed the bedchamber door behind her.

  Keigan dove into her arms. “I had the best time with Maxwell and Grant. Our fort stood well and good against Maisie and Effie’s attacks.”

  “It warms my heart to hear ye did us proud, my precious one.” Her eyes rounded wide as her gaze settled on the abundance of food. “Merciful heavens. Who did ye think ye were feeding?”

  “Cook wanted to be sure and send plenty since ye didna eat that much last night.” Greer’s already rosy blush grew a shade brighter. “She said ye needed to eat well so yer first bairn would be born braw and healthy.”

  “Took us two full carts to bring it all up,” Keigan said. He went to the table and removed a dome with a flourish. “Cook said eat until ye can eat no more, then she’ll swap these out for fresh.” Dragging a slice of apple through a softened cheese, he frowned. “She said ye could be here for days.” With the bite held ready to pop into his mouth, he turned to Brenna. “Are ye locked in yer rooms for days after ye marry? I never heard of that afore.”

  Magnus almost choked on the butter-slathered bannock he’d just shoved into his mouth.

  Brenna cleared her throat after a narrow-eyed glare at him that spoke volumes. “Not locked in our rooms. But often, newly wedded couples wish to have extra private time together.”

  “Ahh.” Keigan nodded as he rounded the table, his mouth puckered in deep thought as he eyed the covered platters. “To get bairns. I guess a little brother wouldna be too much of a chore.” He lifted the cover from a smaller platter, then recoiled. As he took another step back, he covered his mouth and nose, then gagged. “What is that supposed to be?”

  A disgusting stench greased its way across the room, rising from the platter of rotting offal and maggot-covered chicken heads. Magnus strode across the room, scooped up the plate, and flung it out the window, taking care to aim the mess’s landing to where it would do the least amount of damage.

  “Little wench,” he growled. Rage flaring hot and fast, ’twas best he didn’t cut loose with all that came to mind. Insolent, ungrateful, conniving little bitch! He turned to Greer. “I want Cadha brought here. Immediately. Bring Catriona and Mrs. Fitzgerald, too.”

  Her rosy blush gone, Greer backed up a step. “Forgive me, but I canna fetch Cadha.” With a twitch of one shoulder, she shook her head. “She’s gone this verra day. Fool girl yelled at Mrs. Fitzgerald. In the kitchen. Front of everybody. Mrs. Fitzgerald took her by the ear, dragged her out, and told her to never come back. I dinna ken what Lady Catriona said about it, but she places great store in Mrs. Fitzgerald’s druthers.” She made a weak flip of one hand toward the door. “I can run and fetch Mrs. Fitzgerald and Lady Catriona if ye like?” With a nod at the table, she swallowed hard. “I’ll tell Cook, too, so’s this can all be carried off and fresh food sent. Who knows what else she did to what’s here? She helped us with all of it.”

  “How do we know for certain Cadha did this?” Brenna asked quietly as Greer rushed from the room.

  “Who else would do such a thing?” Magnus circled the table, pulling aside all the covers and tossing them to the floor. It wouldn’t surprise him if something even worse waited to be discovered.

  Keigan wrinkled his nose, staring in horror at the sliced apples and bowl of soft cheese. “I ate some of that. Am I gonna die?”

  Brenna rushed back into the bedchamber, emerging a few moments later with a small bowl in one hand. “Drink this, then run for the chamberpot, aye? Quick now. We need to get what ye ate out of ye.”

  “What is that?” Magnus knew of several purges, but none safe enough for a child Keigan’s size.

  “A mix of wine, rowan, and some other herbs. It will work quickly.”

  Horrified, he blocked her way. “Rowan? And what else? Pray tell me ye didna include mistletoe.” Both rowan leaves and mistletoe, in the wrong dosage, could be as deadly as any poison Cadha might have used.

  “I know what I’m doing,” she replied with a calmness that made him breathe easier. Kneeling in front of Keigan, she held the small wooden bowl to the boy’s lips. “We dinna ken if he’s been poisoned or not, but we can get it out of him to be certain.” She nodded. “Just a wee sip, dear one. Ye dinna have t
o drink it all.”

  Eyes squinted against the taste, Keigan forced it down, then ran from the room. Sounds of the child retching followed soon after.

  Brenna placed the bowl on the table. “I must watch him now. He willna feel well the rest of the day.” She paused at the bedchamber door. Without looking back, she pulled in a deep breath and slowly blew it out. “There’s enough there for yerself, as well. Since ye ate a bannock, ye best use it.” Then she locked eyes with him. “I canna bear to lose ye. Not now.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “We all knew she held Magnus in the highest esteem. Had a fondness for him even.” Catriona scowled at the tapestry stretched on a freestanding wooden frame in front of her chair. She worked a crimson thread through a pattern of flowers dotting a field of green, then pulled it taut with a sharp tug.

  “Happens often enough, ye understand,” she added with a glance at Brenna. With the floss tied to suit her, she snipped it close with a tiny pair of shears. “’Tis easy enough to feel a tenderness for a person who saves ye. When someone gives ye yer first taste of mercy, they often claim a place in yer heart.” Rooting through the thread basket on the table beside her, she shook her head. “But none of us realized she had grown so obsessed as to be dangerous.”

  “And no one knows where she might have gone?” That concerned Brenna most. It had been a fortnight since Cadha’s banishment. Had the addled banshee hidden somewhere close to strike again when she got the chance?

  She snapped the thread she had just knotted and frowned at the mended tear. If she ever crossed paths with Cadha again, she’d thrash her. Poor Keigan and Magnus both had retched so long and hard from the remedy for any possible poisoning that they had collapsed on the rug in front of the hearth and slept for hours. Their suffering had stoked her protective rage into an inferno. “I owe her,” she said as she yanked another garment from her mending basket. “And I would give anything to repay that debt.”