by Connie Mason
Picking himself up off the floor, Graeme sent Blair a wry look as he strode toward the door. “We’ll finish this later, lass,” he said in a voice too low for Alyce to hear.
“Nay, we willna,” Blair returned.
“What was that all about?” Alyce asked once they were alone.
“Dinna ask.”
“I thought mayhap ye’d gotten some sense and decided to enjoy the marriage bed. Ye’re fortunate to have a braw young mon like the Campbell laird in yer bed.”
“I havena changed my mind, Alyce.”
Alyce gave a hoot of laughter. “Ye could have fooled me.”
“Forget what you saw. ’Twas a mistake.” She walked over to the tray and lifted the cover. “What have you brought me?”
“A slice of beef pie, cheese, poached fish and fresh bread and butter. Maeve keeps a well-stocked larder. I ate some of the beef pie myself and it was good. We willna starve here, that’s for sure.”
Blair tasted the pie and had to agree. In fact, everything on the tray tasted wonderful. She ate with gusto, then sat back and sighed. “When my things arrive, have my box of herbs taken to the stillroom. I’ll take care of it tomorrow.”
“Stonehaven has no bathing room,” Alyce informed her, “but there’s water heating for yer bath in the kitchen. Yer trunks should arrive soon.”
“Thank you, Alyce. I dinna know what I would do without you.”
“Thank the good Lord ye dinna have to,” Alyce said as she carried the empty tray from the chamber.
While Blair waited for her trunks, she explored her chamber and discovered a small door she hadn’t noticed before. She worried her bottom lip with her teeth, wondering if the door led to Graeme’s bedchamber. There was only one way to find out.
Gingerly approaching the door, she grasped the latch and eased it open . . . and found herself looking into a masculine version of her own chamber. Not only was she staring into Graeme’s chamber, she was staring at Graeme!
He stood poised beside the washstand, his bare back to her, water dripping from his head as if he had just doused it in the washbowl. She watched in awe as his corded muscles flexed and relaxed with movement. Her fists clenched against the urge to run her hands over his smooth flesh, to feel his muscles tense beneath her touch.
“Is there something you want, Blair?”
Blair started violently. Did he have eyes in the back of his head? Drying his dripping head with a towel, he turned to face her.
“How did you know?” Blair asked.
“Training. I’ve learned to sense when someone is sneaking up behind me. It’s saved my life a time or two.”
Blair’s shoulders stiffened. “I wasna sneaking up on you. I merely wanted to see where the door led.”
“I told you your chamber was part of the master’s chambers. “It’s customary for the laird and his lady to share sleeping arrangements.”
“But we’re not . . . I mean, we agreed . . .”
“We must keep up appearances, Blair. Should your brother learn you’re still virginal, he’ll declare our marriage invalid and force you to wed another. Is that what you want?”
“Nay.”
“Then let me do what I think best where you’re concerned. I admit I want you in my bed, but I willna take you unless you give me leave.”
“I canna,” she said, backing away. “Thank you for honoring my request.”
He reached for her and brought her against him. “ ’Tisna going to be easy, lass. A man needs a woman in his bed. You’re my wife—I shouldna have to look elsewhere for my pleasure.”
His expression was dark, his blue eyes grave as his hands tightened on her shoulders. “Forget this nonsense about being a Faery Woman and let me make you a real woman.”
She wasn’t expecting his kiss, so she had no time to fortify her resistance. Rising up on her toes, she melted against him, her mouth soft and pliant against his. Kissing Graeme was like nothing she had ever experienced. His taste and scent were unique. She could happily drown in his kisses. She felt him edging her toward the bed and realized that she was dangerously close to surrendering her powers for a few moments of physical pleasure.
She shoved against his chest, and his arms fell away. “You’re a foolish woman, Blair Campbell. Even if you had the powers you claim, I forbid you to use them at Stonehaven. You’re denying both of us for something that will be of no use to you as long as you remain my wife.”
“Do you forbid me to use my knowledge of healing to help your kinsmen?”
“Nay, you know better than that. I prize your healing skills. I’m referring to those magic powers you claim. While I dinna believe in such things, my kinsmen are more gullible than I am. They’ll be watching you for signs of witchcraft whether you practice it or not.”
She recoiled as if struck. “I am not a witch, but I dinna deny being a Faery Woman. Believe me when I say I willna harm your kinsmen.”
“Return to your chamber,” Graeme ordered gruffly. “It wouldna take much to forget the promise I made to you and make you my wife in every way. Heed me well, lass. Stay out of my way if you wish to remain untouched.”
Blair turned and fled. She had seen the dark aura surrounding him, and an angry Graeme was more than she could presently handle. It was going to be difficult to live the rest of her life with a man she wanted but could not have.
Graeme needed a woman. If his virginal wife wouldn’t give him what he needed, then he would damn well find it elsewhere. Glenda slept on the third floor with the other servants and was always willing to accommodate him. All he had to do was summon her and she would come to him. He strode to the door to fetch her, then came to an abrupt halt.
Damn Blair! His father had never broken his marriage vows during all the years of his marriage; and Graeme resented the fact that Blair was forcing him to be less honorable. Blair wasn’t the woman he would have chosen to wed, but the choice had not been his to make. One conversation with a dying man had turned his life upside down and gained him a witch for a wife.
Anger robbed Graeme of his usual good humor. He should march into Blair’s chamber and tell her he was going to take a mistress. Aye, he would do it. He would give her one last chance to be a wife to him before he took another woman to his bed.
He strode to the connecting door and burst through before he changed his mind. What he saw stopped him in his tracks. Blair was standing in a patch of moonlight before the open window. Her arms were outstretched, as if inviting some unseen entity. A sudden breeze fluttered the curtain, lifted her hair and pressed her skirts against her legs. Curious, he moved closer, close enough to see her face.
Her eyes were closed and her lips were moving. Graeme’s eyes widened in alarm as the flames in the hearth turned yellow, then blue, then blood red. What was going on?
“Blair! What in God’s name are you doing? Stop it! Stop it immediately!”
Silence followed his words. No breeze stirred, no curtain twitched. He watched warily as Blair slowly came to herself, as if emerging from a trance. She turned toward him but appeared not to see him. Her violet eyes were wide and unfocused, and Graeme felt a moment of fear. Then she blinked and brought him into focus.
“Graeme . . . what are you doing here?”
“Never mind that,” Graeme all but shouted. “What did I just interrupt?”
“Naught. I was just . . . communicating.”
Red dots of rage swam before his eyes. “With whom?”
“With nature.”
“Liar! Have I not forbidden you to summon evil spirits? What are you? Who are you? Your father assured me you were not evil, and I believed him.”
“I am not evil, but I canna deny my legacy. Nor can I disavow my God-given powers.”
“God-given?” His brows rose. “Explain the powers of which you speak.”
“I can heal wounds.”
“What else?”
“Spirits speak to me. Sometimes I see things before they happen.”
“So y
ou do have the ‘sight,’ ” he said angrily.
“Some might call it that, but ’tis more.”
“Go on. Do you hear voices?”
“Aye. They speak to me in my dreams . . . and at other times.”
“What do your dreams tell you?”
“Dinna press me, Graeme. You willna like it.”
He was utterly merciless. “Your dreams, Blair. Tell me about them.”
“You came to me in my dreams. I saw your face long before I knew your name.”
Stunned into silence, Graeme stared at her, trying to decide if she was telling the truth. Unwavering, she returned his gaze. Graeme didn’t know what to think. Blair was either a liar or a dangerous woman, or mayhap a lunatic.
“You dreamed about me?”
She nodded. “You came to me in my dreams. The spirits brought you to me.”
“I canna believe what I’m hearing. We didna know one another before your father summoned me to Gairloch. I’m warning you, Blair, dinna continue this foolishness. I canna protect you if you refuse to cooperate.”
“What are you doing here? I didna invite you into my chamber. How can we avoid one another if you dinna follow your own rules?”
“I came to give you one last chance to be a wife to me before I bring another woman to my bed.”
Blair did her best to conceal her dismay. If Graeme took a leman, she couldn’t stop him. In fact, she had encouraged him to do so. Nevertheless, she wanted to be the woman in his bed.
She wanted to be loved by him and to love him in return. That thought brought another.
“Who is the woman you love?”
“What?”
“You told me you loved another. Who is she? Why have you not wed her?”
The light in Graeme’s eyes dimmed even as his expression turned grim. “Aye, I love another, but there was naught between us that wasna pure and innocent. I will always love her, though she is no longer of this world.”
“She’s dead?” Blair gasped.
“She was never of this world. She belonged to God.” His gaze sharpened as his attention returned to Blair. “Dinna try to change the subject. We were speaking about conjuring spirits and casting spells. There will be no more such goings-on at Stonehaven. I mean it, Blair. I willna tolerate disobedience.” He backed away. “I bid you good night.”
He marched off without another word. It was just as well. Obviously, he feared her and did not understand her powers. In her experience, people feared things they did not understand, and Graeme was no exception.
What really hurt was the knowledge that Graeme believed she was a witch.
Blair returned to the window, trying to summon the spirits that had fled when Graeme entered her chamber, but it was no use. No matter how hard she concentrated, they would not return. She hoped they hadn’t deserted her, for without them she was lost.
Graeme prowled from one end of his chamber to the other, his mind still dazed by what he had just witnessed. He had been greatly disturbed by Blair’s behavior. He no longer knew what to believe.
Did he want to bed a woman who dabbled in the black arts? His body said aye while his mind said nay. Why had he taken MacArthur’s word that Blair wasn’t a witch?
Because you don’t believe in witches.
Nevertheless, seeing Blair at the window while all those unnatural phenomena were taking place in the chamber had definitely unnerved him. Magic had been in progress. Somehow he had to prevent Blair from summoning forces that could disrupt Stonehaven and its people.
Witchcraft. Did it really exist? Common sense told him it did not, but his eyes had beheld something indisputably odd. A shudder went through him. What had he done? Whom had he wed? Why did he want a woman he neither understood nor trusted?
Graeme decided he did indeed need a woman. One who neither claimed powers nor spoke to spirits. A woman willing to ease his body without complicating his life. His body hardened at the thought of Glenda’s generous curves and sweet mouth working their magic on him. He had only to climb the stairs and summon her.
He strode toward the portal. His hand was on the latch when the door connecting his chamber to Blair’s flew open. He whirled at the sound, shocked by the intrusion but utterly bewitched by the angry beauty confronting him.
Her hair appeared alive and glowing, her face illuminated by an inner light that made her seem otherworldly. Her figure was perfection, softly rounded and sweetly curved. But her violet eyes held a spark that did not bode well for him.
Witch or nay, he wanted her still.
“You’re like all the others. You believe I am a witch,” Blair charged.
“What would you have me believe?”
“That my powers come from God.”
“I once knew a woman who claimed her powers came from God, and she is dead now because of it. Is that what you want for yourself?”
“Nay, of course not. But I canna refuse to heal because I fear death. I want to help people, Graeme . . . I must.”
He shook his head. “I understand none of this, Blair. I will protect you because I promised and my word is my honor.” He sent her an exasperated look. “In exchange, I expect to be obeyed.” He turned away. “Return to your chamber.”
“Where are you going?”
“To fetch a normal woman to warm my bed.”
Her cheeks flaming with anger, Blair whirled on her heel and stomped off, slamming the door so hard the windows rattled. Graeme dropped his hand from the latch and leaned against the panel, shaking his head. What was a thwarted bridegroom to do?
Blair returned to her chamber in a huff. The man was impossible. What would it take for him to believe in her powers? Nothing she said seemed to get through to him. She glanced toward the closed door. Tears formed in her eyes when she imagined him with another woman.
Why couldn’t Graeme Campbell be the same uncomplicated man who had visited her in her dreams? That Graeme accepted her as she was. That Graeme never questioned her powers.
Blair’s fists clenched in frustration when she recalled the countless times Graeme had invaded her dreams. Why had the spirits brought him to her if he couldn’t accept her as she was?
The door to her chamber opened and Alyce bustled inside, carrying a stack of towels and soap. “Are ye ready for yer bath, lass? Yer trunks have arrived.”
“Oh, aye,” Blair said, dashing the tears from her eyes.
Alyce pushed the door open and a manservant rolled in a tub. Other servants followed, carrying jugs of hot and cold water. Within a short time the tub was set up behind a screen and filled. Blair thanked everyone politely and began to undress.
“I’ll see to yer trunks,” Alyce said.
Blair sank into the tub, the hot water soothing both her body and her temper.
His decision made, Graeme left his chamber, lifted a torch from a wall sconce and made his way up to the third floor. It mattered not that Glenda slept in a room with others, he would fetch her anyway. He wasn’t a man who indulged his needs frequently, but Blair had fired his lust. But for MacArthur’s death, he would have already made love to Blair and rid himself of his annoying hunger for her.
Heath had the right of it, Graeme decided. Blair had bewitched him. Would bedding another woman purge her from his system? He did not know, but was willing to find out.
Three women slept in the small chamber at the top of the stairs. Holding the torch aloft, he spotted Glenda lying on a cot in the far corner. Uncaring whether or not the others awoke, he made his way toward her cot. She awakened at his approach and rubbed her eyes.
“Laird Graeme.”
“Come,” he whispered, beckoning.
Without hesitation, Glenda rose naked from the cot, donned her shift and followed close on his heels. She touched his arm when she caught up to him. “What about yer wife?”
“Let me worry about her.”
He entered his chamber and waited for Glenda to follow before closing the door behind them.
Glenda, whose
morals were none too strict, preened for his benefit. “I feared ye wouldna want me in yer bed after ye wed.”
“Aye, well, you thought wrong.” He removed his belt and pulled off his plaid, naked now but for his boots. “Climb into bed, lass. I’ll be with you as soon as I remove my boots.”
Glenda whipped off her shift and climbed into bed, posing seductively for Graeme’s benefit. “I’m glad ye still have need of me, laird.” She held out her soft white arms.
Graeme turned and stared down at her. Red-haired and buxom, she was naught like the Faery Woman he had wed. But that was a good thing, was it not? The answer surprised him. It wasn’t a good thing when the woman he really wanted lay just beyond the connecting door. His cock, rampant with need but a moment ago, abruptly deflated.
He recoiled in alarm. What had Blair done to him?
“Get up!” he barked. “Return to your bed. I dinna need you, after all.”
Glenda sent him a confused look. “I thought . . . What have I done to annoy ye, laird?”
“ ’Tis not you,” he said, his tone softening. “The mood has left me. Another time, mayhap.”
He turned away as Glenda donned her shift and sidled out of the chamber. The moment the door closed behind her, Graeme flung on a chamber robe and stormed through the connecting door.
“Laird Graeme, is aught amiss?” Alyce gasped, startled by his appearance in Blair’s bedchamber.
His gaze probed the dimly lit chamber. “Where is my wife?”
Alyce’s frightened gaze went immediately to the screen.
“Leave us!” he ordered Alyce. “And close the door behind you.”
Alyce glanced worriedly at the screen, then scooted from the chamber. Graeme marched to the screen and flung it aside.
“What have you done to me, woman?” he roared.
Blair sank down into the water. “I did naught. Get out. I prefer to bathe in private.”
His heated gaze raked over her exposed flesh. “You cast a spell on me. Take it away.”
“I canna take away what I didna do. What are you talking about?”
“You stole my manhood. You took from me the ability to bed another woman.”
