Druid's Daughter

by Jean Hart Stewart

  When he eventually married, he’d choose a girl from a suitable and aristocratic family who knew how to move in his circles. Also one who wouldn’t care to delve deep into his private memories. One who would leave him heartfree. Morgan would move right into his soul and have him jabbering his secrets to her within a month of a wedding ceremony! No, a week.

  He’d treasure a marriage like his parents had, but for him such rare intimacy was impossible.

  Still he enjoyed Morgan’s company. She’d become almost a palpable presence in his mind. She relaxed and invigorated him at the same time.

  Maybe it was time to see her once again. Perhaps then he could banish her from his thoughts.

  He wouldn’t touch her. He’d just talk to her.

  * * * * *

  He found her home and reading in the parlor. His first reaction was sheer relief, of a surprising intensity. He’d tried two other times to see her, only to be told she was not at home. The second reaction was curiosity as to her reading tastes.

  She rose to greet him, her book in the left hand as she extended her right.

  “My lord Lance, you’re welcome. I fear I’m a bit untidy. I started reading earlier this morning and have taken time for nothing else.”

  Her smile showed she was pleased to see him and nothing else mattered to Lance. Actually he thought she looked perfectly charming. Her morning gown of light green with darker green accents in the sash made her look like a flower of spring. Her emerald eyes were sparkling and he dared to hope the brilliance was due at least partly to his arrival. Her hair had slipped a little from its coil and several reddish brown strands strayed around her blooming cheeks.

  She blew a wisp of hair away. He dug his hands into his pockets. It was all he could do not to reach out and push back another soft strand drifting across her silken skin.

  She motioned him to a nearby chair and resumed her own, the book still dangling from her fingers.

  Lance strove to speak lightly.

  “May I ask what you’re reading that has you enthralled?”

  “Victor Hugo’s treatise on the battle of Waterloo. A short book, but one with a very different viewpoint from our British one, I can tell you. Quite a revelation, in fact.”

  Lance took the book from her hand and leafed through it.

  “In French, I see.”

  Her nose tipped up in the way he found so charming.

  “I read a good deal, my lord. In several languages.”

  He laughed at her effort at hauteur and flicked his finger on her cheek.

  “Come now. I do not mean any of my comments to be disparaging. I’m not surprised, although you must have gone to an exceptional school. You are more learned in many ways than the young ladies I know.”

  “I went to no school, my lord. My mother hired tutors and directed my education herself.”

  This was by far the most informative personal remark she’d made and it explained a good deal. With her mother’s knowledge pushing her daughter’s intellect no wonder this girl was special in so many ways. As well as her lack of some feminine pursuits such as flirting. And her innocence.

  He turned to her with a genuine smile.

  “I came to ask you to have lunch with me. Might I hope you’ll accept? I promise to be my least cantankerous self.”

  Instead of smiling back as he’d expected, she solemnly looked at him for one of the longer moments he could remember. Longer even than her usual scrutiny.

  Her face cleared like a surge of sunshine.

  “Yes, I see you truly want my company. May I have my choice of where we eat?”

  She dimpled and watched him gravely. Quite surprised, he could only nod yes. The little minx. What did she have in mind? He was sure of only one thing, none of the overpriced restaurants currently favored by society would be in the running. Not with his thoroughly enchanting Druid.

  “I’m delighted to take you anywhere you wish to go, my dear. I hope I don’t have to guess, however, as your captivating mind is always a mystery to me.”

  She gave a triumphant crow of delight.

  “Hyde Park,” she announced. “I want to go for a ride in Hyde Park.”

  “But there are no restaurants there.”

  “We don’t need one.” Her smile displayed her sheer pleasure in the suggestion. “There are plenty of vendors on the outskirts. We can pick up some pasties and oranges and picnic in the Park. I’ll even bring a blanket to sit on.”

  Looking at her glowing face he regretted his absolute decision not to touch her. Everything about her came close to being irresistible. Her beauty was only part of her appeal, although her sparkling emerald eyes would bewitch a better man than he. Her hair fascinated him. A tawny shade he couldn’t name, he found himself watching for its changing highlights. He badly wanted to hold her close to him, just for a second and taste those full rosy lips.

  Instead he answered her with a grin.

  “You’re a baggage! It’s a wonderful idea, but we probably won’t find any Banbury tarts. Can we also stop for lemonade?”

  “Of course! I’ll bring some water in case we can’t find the lemonade. Isn’t this a wonderful idea?”

  She danced from the room, her exceptional grace evident in every movement.

  Lance watched her go, amused and enthralled. If he didn’t want to act on his amorous thoughts, he’d better start controlling them. They really had no place in a Chief Inspector’s mind. Not one who was determined to let his interest in Miss Morgan McAfee go no further.

  One who didn’t dare let his interest go any further.

  * * * * *

  Morgan smiled delightedly at Lance as they sat on a blanket under a shade tree in Hyde Park. The sky was a delphinium blue and a soft breeze caressed their cheeks. It was one of those special days when a golden autumn sun seemed to bathe the whole world with added beauty. They had just passed a bed of lavender and the spicy scent hung in the air. Morgan was peeling an orange and giving Lance every other fragrant segment.

  “I didn’t think to look for sweets. But this is simply wonderful. What a special day nature has given us. It’s easy to forget winter will soon be upon us when the breeze is this balmy. I find it felicitous we are under an oak tree. Oaks have many important meanings to the Druids.”

  “And you honor those beliefs?”

  From the sudden drop in his voice as well as his piercing glance, Morgan realized her answer was important. She phrased her words with obvious care.

  “I cannot be other than I am, Lance. I know the manner of life of the Druids has no place in life today. I’m not stupid, I see the faults in the Druid philosophy guaranteeing they can’t survive in the modern world. Still I honor their primary principle that all religions should be tolerated and I know their wise women could help with the terrible problems of sickness. The Druid beliefs that all gods are acceptable could transform this world of ours if everyone respected those beliefs.” She paused to breathe a small sigh. “Not likely at all.”

  Lance was chewing on a leaf of grass, leaning back on the blanket and gazing up at the sky. He’d stretched out, his arms flung behind his head. Morgan thought she’d never seen such a perfect male. He’d taken off his jacket and his shirt was stretched tight across his corded chest. She watched as his muscles flexed as he shifted position. She forced herself to look away. He tempted her to touch him with every breath he inhaled.

  His body was magnificent. He could easily pose for a statue by Michelangelo, had he been born in another day. Perhaps he had been born once at that time. Had she known him in his then life? Was this one of the reasons he fascinated her so?

  They finished their picnic lunch, accompanied by remarks from Lance about the low standard of service.

  He tilted his chin up high and looked down his nose in imitation of a snobbish aristocrat.

  “Do you realize not even one waiter has asked what we desire? And the chairs are not comfortable at all. I hope madam doesn’t feel she ever wants to come back to this e
stablishment.”

  Morgan thought him funny and very dear, as she took up the game.

  “But m’seiu, we have given you our best service. Please tell me there is anything at all we can do for you to make up for our regrettable negligence.”

  She thought her take-off on a waiter’s pretended French accent to be rather well done, but she found herself looking at Lance and wondering why he wasn’t amused. To her astonishment he reached over and yanked her on top of him. The feel of his prone body touching hers from shoulder to toe struck her like a flame set to tinder. She felt fashioned of fire as she gasped and began to draw shallow breaths. Then she froze into perfect stillness as he reached up and drew her lips down to his.

  “Beautiful, irresistible Morgan,” he whispered as he claimed her in a blazing kiss. She felt herself dissolving into a puddle of some kind of soft material he could mould as he wished. Her very bones seemed like treacle. The sensation was not a bit alarming, in fact she quite liked it. She wriggled her body a little closer, loving this very intimate contact.

  Lance ran his hands over her figure, lingering a moment at her hips as he pressed her even closer to his body. She slightly angled her head to kiss him again, but before she could do so felt herself lifted from him and set aside. He turned on his stomach and lay there without speaking.

  Morgan lay beside him, bewildered. The thrill of his hot kiss still reverberated through her body. She could feel little shivers creeping from her spine outward. She’d been amazed at how easily he raised her and placed her beside him. She’d always guessed he was an incredibly strong man, yet this brief proof was an exciting joy.

  She wanted more. She sat up and tapped him on the shoulder.

  “Is that all?” she asked.

  Lance flipped over and stared at her. He didn’t seem to be breathing quite steadily.

  “Do you want it to be all?”

  Morgan stopped to think just a second.

  “No,” she said.

  Lance still stared at her, his blue, blue eyes burning with intensity.

  “Morgan, you’ll purely be the death of me. I stopped because if I go on I’ll kiss you much more deeply and I’m afraid I’ll frighten you.”

  She looked at him stretched on the blanket. He took up a good share of the blanket and she was right he’d been framed by a master. Every bone and muscle seemed to flow into the next. She wanted to be wrapped again in his strong arms and kissed even more, no matter what it entailed. She knew enough to realize the pronounced bulge in his pants meant he desired her and she gloried in her power to so affect him.

  “Please,” she said in a husky voice, as she lay down again, as close to him as she could wriggle.

  Lance groaned and reached for her. He laid his lips against hers, gently at first and then with insistence. This time when he ran his tongue around her lips and then pressed to gain entrance she let him in. A shock ran through her, a thrilling shock, as he swept his tongue into and around every crevice of her mouth, seeking her sweetness. She was determined to reciprocate and he held still and let her try, at first tentatively and then with a joyous assurance as she realized he was affected just as much as she.

  They both had to surface for air and Morgan clung to his shoulders as she put her cheek on his and gasped.

  “Did you like that?” His voice was a low rumble in her ear.

  “Oh yes, Lance. Beyond anything.” Although her breath was still short he understood her and turned her lips again to his.

  He increased the intensity of the kiss immediately and Morgan drowned in a sea of pleasurable sensations she’d never dreamed possible. His lips and his agile tongue swept her away into a world of pure feeling. She barely knew when he started caressing her breasts, she only knew she loved his touch anywhere he chose to move his hands.

  Abruptly, every intoxicating caress was over. Lance pushed her aside almost roughly and putting his hand on the ground, vaulted to his feet. His back was to her as he ground out his words.

  “That’s all, Morgan. You don’t know what you’re doing, but I do.”

  “I don’t understand,” she whispered. “I thought you were enjoying yourself.”

  His voice sounded a little steadier, although he still didn’t face her.

  “I enjoyed it far too much.” His laugh was short and bitter. “This was not what I intended when I asked you to lunch. At least not consciously.”

  She was too embarrassed to answer. Not by his rejection as much as her own knowledge she’d not wanted him to stop. The fact he could give her such delight amazed her, but she suspected it was too dangerous a delight to dally with again. She’d not trust herself if he kissed her even once more.

  All her certainties had flown at his kisses. Was she such a spineless creature as this? She’d better reconstruct her values and have them firmly in place before she saw him again. She had no future in his life, nor he in hers.

  She finally found a rather creaky voice.

  “I know what you’re thinking and you’re right. We won’t do this again.”

  His laugh sounded genuine. “You have no idea what I’m thinking, my dear girl. But of course we mustn’t do this again. Shall we go back to the carriage?”

  He’d asked the driver to stop around a corner. When they’d first pulled over so she’d thought he was looking for a big enough tree to shade the horses. Now she suspected he mainly wanted to give them privacy.

  They picked up the small amount of debris from their lunch, Morgan shouldered her blanket and they walked silently back to the carriage.

  Holding out one big hand to help her into the carriage was the only time a solemn Lance touched her again.

  The ride home was far too long.

  * * * * *

  Lance Dellafield, Chief Inspector of Scotland Yard’s famed C.I.D., felt as if he had just engaged in a major skirmish with an overpowering enemy and barely escaped intact. Outwardly intact, at least. He might have changed a bit inside. When he finally found and married the conformable girl best suited to him, would he still go over and over those delicious moments with Morgan? The way he couldn’t stop doing now?

  Blast her for being his own personal witch, regardless of her claims to be nothing but a Druid. Certainly he’d been close to taking her right there on the blanket, in a public park and to hell with the consequences.

  How could she do this to him? And with no effort at all.

  He and Morgan had so little in common. She lacked regard for anyone except on his individual merits. He’d been raised to feel members of the aristocracy were superior to the common people. She believed living one’s life so your goodness would produce a better situation for you when next you were born. He was born and raised in the English church, who believed if you at least tried to be good you’d be let into heaven. Especially if you belonged to the peerage! She saw visions, for God’s sake and auras. And her mother could work magic. It was impossible to think two such dissimilar worlds could ever mesh in peace. Worst of all, she seemed able at times to read his mind. Part of his half-buried fear was if he let her get close enough she’d find out what he was really like. He could never stand to have her look at him with disgust darkening those bright green eyes. Not this particular girl. A girl whose purity shone from her mesmerizing eyes.

  Lance was back to the resolve with which he’d started out on this disastrous and unforgettable day. He must keep away from Morgan McAfee. This time he must keep his resolution.

  What was she doing now? Was she going over and over in her mind those remarkable kisses? Was she regretful she’d allowed him to kiss her almost into submission? He was no green lad, he realized she’d been close to allowing him any liberty he chose. Which was exactly why he’d called a halt to their amorous pleasures. He knew where they were headed and she didn’t.

  Not seeing her ever again was for the best. Or if fate decreed they meet again, he would coolly keep his distance. Perhaps it was time to examine some of the other women he knew with an eye to marriage. H
e’d not kept a mistress for over a year, which was probably the reason Morgan could break his control so easily. That was doubtless the problem. His last mistress had bored him to tears and he’d been delighted to rid himself of her. He’d thought his fencing twice a week would take care of his surplus energy. Evidently fencing wasn’t the right kind of exercise.

  He needed an outlet for his sexual vigor, but the idea of another mistress didn’t appeal. Perhaps it truly was time to look for a wife. Yes, that was what he needed. He’d keep his eye out for a suitable woman. One trained to be amenable to her husband and who’d not probe too deeply into intimacy. If he picked carefully he would not have to let this chosen wife get close to him at all.

  Marriage must be the answer to the pernicious unrest and longing now driving him mad.

  * * * * *

  His schedule was so tight he found no chance to make a sustained move to start courting another woman. Worse yet, every time he met a suitable female at one of his parents’ or his married brothers’ affairs he found he was glad to be so busy. He tried but couldn’t summon up interest. He danced with them and even took one of them out to dinner and wondered why he could not wax enthusiastic about girls who were charming, well-bred and obviously interested in him. Morgan’s natural beauty, her beauty from within as well as her outer loveliness, outshone any woman he met.

  When under heaven or hell was he going to stop thinking of his Druid witch?

  * * * * *

  Commissioner Devon Randall was also distraught. He couldn’t make his mind function at top speed, if at all. He was distressed not with fear but with worry about what would be best for Jamie. The morning after Jamie’s flight to Viviane he’d faced his sister-in-law in her room.

  Her face was puffy and she was still in her dressing gown. She looked like a slattern. He didn’t much care if his disgust showed, although at least she’d always looked like a lady until now. Or had she? He remembered the few times he’d pushed to the back of his mind when she appeared at dinner in an inappropriately low cut gown. Several times she’d manufactured opportunities to bend over him, her meager breasts almost fully exposed. He’d risen to avoid her. He should have evicted her then. Instead, out of desperation for care of Jamie, he tried to ignore her unwanted approaches.