by Connie Mason
When he nuzzled the softness between her thighs, she moaned and begged him to come inside her. He grinned and shook his head. Sliding his hands under her bottom, he lifted her and pressed his mouth against her sweet femininity. Then he parted the folds of her sex with his tongue and delved inside her soft center.
Blair went wild beneath him. Then she came, her body arching into his intimate caress. She was still trembling when he moved up her body and slid inside her, drawing out her climax until his own release carried them both to oblivion.
“You’ll not die,” Blair whispered, holding him close. “I swear I willna let you die.”
Chapter Eighteen
Blair waited anxiously for the king’s reply to Graeme’s proposal. She had no idea what she and Graeme would do if the king refused to restore their marriage.
One glorious sunny day, Graeme asked Blair to fetch a picnic basket that Maeve had packed for them. “There’s someplace special I want to show you. Sitting here waiting to hear from the king is doing neither of us any good.”
“Where?” Blair asked, excitement coloring her words. “I didna ken there was a special place nearby.”
Graeme’s smile set her heart to racing. “You’ll see. Meet me in the courtyard. And wear a cloak. The weather can be changeable this time of year.”
Twenty minutes later, Blair arrived in the courtyard with a picnic basket slung over her arm. “Is the place we’re going to far?” she asked Graeme.
“Nay, it’s within walking distance. But if you prefer to ride, we will.”
“ ’Tis such a beautiful day. Let’s walk.”
“Are you sure?”
“Verra sure. I can use the exercise.”
Graeme relieved her of the basket, wound her arm in his and ushered her through the front gate.
They walked in companionable silence through the village, nodding to those who hailed them along the way. When they reached the loch, Graeme turned downstream, following a narrow path along the cliff.
“I’ve never been this far from the village before,” Blair said.
“ ’Tis just as well,” Graeme said. “I wouldna want you venturing out here alone. Look what happened when you went into the forest to gather herbs.”
Blair stopped abruptly, her gaze focused on a stone tower perched precariously on a rise near the edge of the cliff. “What is that?”
Graeme grasped her hand and pulled her toward the structure. “The ruins of an ancient Viking tower. I thought you might enjoy seeing it.”
“How old is it?”
“Verra old. The Vikings came to Scotland several centuries ago and built watchtowers all along the coast.”
When they reached the base of the square tower, Blair stared in awe at the ancient building and started forward. “Can we go inside?”
Graeme pulled her back. “The stairs are too dangerous to climb. Look around you,” he said, pointing to several large stones littering the ground at their feet.
“These stones have fallen from the tower at one time or another, so you can see how dangerous it would be to enter the structure. I just thought you would enjoy seeing it.”
“Thank you,” Blair said. “I appreciate being alone with you as much as I do seeing the tower. We have too little time to ourselves.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Graeme murmured. “Shall we eat?”
Graeme laid out the cloth Maeve had included in the basket and Blair set out the food. Then they feasted on bread, cheese, cold pigeon pie and fresh strawberries. They also found a bottle of wine tucked into the basket.
“Wine, Graeme?” Blair asked when she saw him uncorking the bottle.
“Aye, the occasion called for wine. ’Tis the first time we’ve been alone together outside the keep. The first time we’ve made love beneath the sky.”
“We’re going to make love?”
“Aye. More than once, I hope.”
Blair swallowed hard. She hoped so, too.
When they finished eating, Graeme helped her pack up the remnants of their feast. Blair watched in avid anticipation as he removed his sword, spread his plaid on the ground in the shadow of the tower and offered her his hand.
“Come lie with me, love.”
He settled her down on the plaid, then joined her. “The loch is calm today.”
“ ’Tisn’t difficult to picture Viking ships approaching our shores.”
Blair smiled, imagining Graeme as a fierce Viking come to conquer the land.
“What are you smiling about?”
“I always smile when I’m happy.” She paused. “I love you, Graeme.”
“I know, lass, and I love you.”
His face suddenly taut with need, he pressed her down on the plaid, covering her with his body. “I never tire of making love to you.”
He lowered his head and kissed her, his mouth devouring, hungry. She tasted wine on his lips and opened her mouth to his tongue when he sought entrance. She could deny him nothing. He was her love, her life, her future. The spirits had sent him to her.
But even as Graeme’s kisses grew more fervent and his hands were hot upon her, Blair sensed danger. When a buzzing began inside her head, she tried to ignore it, concentrating instead on the heat of Graeme’s aroused body and his ravenous kisses. Then voices replaced the buzzing, and she could no longer ignore the warning. When Graeme started to undress her, she braced her hands against his chest and shook her head.
“What is it, lass? Are you not in the mood?” He gave her a seductive grin. “I can change that easily enough.”
“Nay,” Blair answered, looking about her for the source of the danger she perceived. “Something is verra wrong.”
“What do you mean? Everything is perfect.”
“I sense danger. My voices speak of it.”
Instantly alert, Graeme reached for his sword. “What kind of danger?”
“I dinna know. Mayhap we should leave. I feel . . .”
The words stilled in Blair’s throat as a strange scraping sound caught her attention. Graeme must have heard it, too, for he glanced upward at the same time Blair did.
“Sweet Mother of God!” Graeme exclaimed.
For a moment Graeme could only stare in horror at the huge stone that had broken free of the crumbling watchtower and was hurtling down upon them. Acting from pure instinct, he swept Blair out of danger’s path and attempted to follow. Unfortunately, he wasn’t fast enough. The huge stone struck his right leg before continuing down the slight incline and then rolling over the cliff into the loch.
Graeme heard the bones in his leg snap and felt the searing pain of torn flesh. The last thing he recalled before passing out was the image of a woman peering through one of the arrow slits near the top of the tower. Then agony speared through him and he blacked out. When he awakened, Blair was kneeling over him, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“How bad is it?” he gasped.
She stroked his forehead, trying to ease his fears. “Dinna worry, my love. All will be well.”
Graeme could tell by her expression that she was lying. Most likely he would lose the leg. Marshaling what remained of his dwindling strength, he lifted himself to his elbows and stared down at his injury. What he saw brought gorge to his throat.
His leg was a bloody mass of protruding bones and lacerated flesh. He knew instinctively that it was shattered beyond repair. He also knew that only one thing would save his life, and even then it was doubtful he would survive.
Amputation.
“Do what you have to do, lass.” His voice was thin and shaky, barely discernible. “Use my dirk.” Those were his last words before darkness reclaimed him.
“Nay, Graeme, you’ll not lose your limb,” Blair said with fierce determination. “Nor will you die.”
Blair heard laughter, sensed a presence behind her and spun around. “You!” she cried. “You did this!”
Glenda glanced down at Graeme without a hint of compassion. “Now neither of us will have him. I hoped
the stone would kill both of ye, but now I’ll have to kill ye myself.”
“You’re mad!”
“Mayhap,” she snarled as she launched herself at Blair.
Almost too late, Blair realized that Glenda held a dirk in her hand. Glenda was strong, but so was Blair. They fell to the ground, legs thrashing, arms flailing, rolling over and over as Blair tried to keep Glenda from stabbing her with the dirk. Somehow Blair managed to wrest the dirk from Glenda’s hand and toss it away. Screaming in outrage, Glenda dove after it, stopping at the edge of the cliff as the dirk bounced once, then launched itself as if by magic into the loch.
Glenda’s eyes held a hint of madness as she glared menacingly at Blair. “Prepare to die, witch.”
She dove for Graeme’s sword, but Blair reached it first, kicking it out of the way. It skidded along the ground to the very edge of the cliff. Glenda followed. Blair watched in horror as a strong gust of wind literally lifted Glenda off her feet and swept her over the cliff. Her scream followed her all the way down, then ended in ominous silence. Shaken, Blair crawled to the edge and peered down. Glenda was gone, sucked into the deep waters of the loch.
Trembling, Blair pushed herself to her knees. Though Glenda had nearly killed Graeme and meant to kill her, Blair had not wished for her death. Then she heard Graeme moan and turned her attention to saving the life of the man she loved.
She found Graeme in the same position she had left him, sprawled on the ground, his crushed leg stretched out before him. Blair knew what she had to do, and she needed help to accomplish it. Closing her eyes, she prayed to God and the spirits to empower her. A few moments later, she felt a comforting breeze brush her cheek and knew she wasn’t alone. The spirits were with her, guiding her.
Taking a deep breath, Blair opened her eyes, her expression determined as she prayed for strength to save Graeme’s limb and ultimately his life.
Her hands were shaking as she held them over Graeme’s broken bones and lacerated flesh. Catching her breath, she lowered her hands until they rested directly on his leg. As she prayed and chanted words ingrained into her memory, a great calmness settled over her.
Then needles of heat surged through her hands and arms. The sensation become so intense, her entire body began to tremble. Overwhelming pain sent fire through her veins. Nausea rose in her throat. But she refused to let her own agony distract her. She would heal Graeme or die trying.
Suddenly she felt as if she were being torn apart. Her body was afire, her head ready to explode. Then she knew no more.
Graeme awoke to the sound of squawking seabirds soaring overhead. He was aware of sunshine stabbing against his eyes . . . and little else. He moved cautiously, rising up on his elbows as his wits slowly returned. Then he saw Blair lying in a boneless heap beside him, and memory came rushing back. The stone! Had it struck Blair as well as him as it plunged to earth? Dear God, was she dead?
He had shoved himself to his knees before it occurred to him that he shouldn’t be able to move about so freely. Why wasn’t he writhing in pain? He had seen the bloody mass of flesh and bone that had once been his leg, and knew there was no way it could have been saved. Yet here he was, supporting himself on both legs. Daring a glance at his leg, he saw what had to be a miracle. His right leg was as whole and healthy as his left.
Stunned, he fell back on his rump, his mind refusing to accept what his eyes had seen. Then his glance returned to Blair, and everything else flew from his mind. Crawling over to her, he cradled her head and shoulders in his lap.
“Blair. Sweeting, wake up. Are you hurt?”
He ran his hand over her limbs; nothing seemed broken. There were no bumps on her head, and her heartbeat was strong, though somewhat erratic. Uncertain what to do, he held her and crooned to her until she stirred and opened her eyes.
“What happened, lass?”
Blair dragged in a shuddering breath. “Are you well?”
“More than well, sweeting. How did you do it?”
“Your leg . . . is it . . .”
“It is fine, lass. I dinna know what you did or how you did it, and dinna want to know. Naught short of a miracle could have saved my leg.”
“I couldna let you die, Graeme. Even if it killed me, I would have attempted to cure you.”
Graeme drew back in alarm. “Killed you? What do you mean?”
Blair shook her head, her lips tightly sealed. Graeme refused to accept her silence. “Tell me. I willna relent until I have the truth.”
Blair breathed a sigh of resignation. “Verra well, I’ll tell you. Normally I heal by using herbs and natural remedies. But sometimes they aren’t enough. When that happens, I ask God and the spirits to empower me. ’Tis through them I gain my healing powers. But each time I attempt such a healing it weakens me.”
Shock and disbelief ravaged Graeme’s features. “ ’Tis difficult to believe that your powers are strong enough to make a shattered limb whole. I saw my leg: ’twas ruined beyond repair. The best I hoped for was a successful amputation.
“Blair, you must never reveal to anyone what you did here today. Now I know why your father feared for your life. Did you heal Stuart the same way you healed me? Stuart spoke of a miracle, but I didna ken how it could be.”
“Aye, I used my powers to heal Stuart. He would have died had I not sought help from the spirits.”
“Are you feeling better now?”
“Aye. I’m still weak but no longer feel pain.”
“Pain? Healing causes you pain?”
“ ’Tis naught, Graeme. I am fine now.”
“Nay, you are not fine. You’re still pale and trembling. How long does this weakness last?”
“It depends upon the seriousness of the wound or injury I am healing.”
He flexed his right leg, still unable to believe the miracle Blair had wrought. “Dinna ever use your healing powers in that way again,” he warned. “One day you may not recover. I couldna bear to lose you.” He grew thoughtful, his mind turning in another direction as he stared up at the tower. “ ’Tis strange the way that stone fell.”
“It was no accident,” Blair said. “Someone tried to kill us.”
“Who would do such a thing?” His expression turned grim. “I’ll launch an investigation immediately.”
Blair stirred in his arms. “There’s no need. I know who did it.”
His mouth thinned. “Tell me his name.”
“It wasna a man.” Her expression softened. She touched his arm. “I’m sorry, Graeme. ’Twas Glenda.”
“Glenda! I’ve known her all her life. Are you sure?”
“Aye. When she realized she hadn’t killed both of us, she came after me.”
Graeme stiffened. “Damn her! What happened? Did she hurt you? Where is she now?”
“She had a dirk. We fought for it, and I threw it into the loch. Then she went for your sword. I kicked it out of her grasp, and it came to rest at the edge of the cliff. She dove for it and would have gotten it if a strong wind hadna sent her over the edge. She’s gone, Graeme—carried out to sea with the tide.”
Graeme winced. “I knew she was jealous but hoped I’d solved the problem when I banished her from the keep. Forgive me, lass. I had no idea she presented a danger to either of us.”
Graeme recalled seeing a face in the arrow slit before he’d passed out. He realized it wouldn’t have been difficult for Glenda to work a stone loose from the crumbling ruins and send it hurtling to the earth below.
“I’m sorry,” he said again. “If you feel strong enough, we should start back to the keep.”
“Aye, my strength is returning.”
Graeme stood, lifted Blair into his arms, bent to pick up the basket and started walking back toward the village.
“I can walk, Graeme.”
“It pleases me to carry you. It pleases me to be able to walk. But for you, I would be missing a limb, or mayhap dead from loss of blood. Now I believe I could carry you to the ends of the earth and never fee
l the strain. But I meant it when I said you must never again heal anyone as you did me.”
“Healing is what I do.”
“You know what I mean. Your magic powers are not to be used again. All it would take to bring about your death is one voice raised in accusation.”
“How can I promise such a thing?”
“You must, love. For me, and for the bairns we will have together. Will you promise?”
Blair shook her head. “I canna. If you were to come to harm, I would use any means at my disposal to heal you. Put me down. We’re approaching the village, and I dinna want anyone to think something is amiss.”
Graeme eased Blair to her feet. “I need to tell Glenda’s parents about her death, but not now. I want to get you home first.”
“What will you tell them?”
“Her parents are good people. All they need to know is that she stepped too close to the edge of the cliff and fell to her death.”
“I wish I could change things.”
“Dinna fret, lass. Glenda was her own worst enemy. Jealousy brought about her demise.”
Blair’s legs were shaking by the time she reached the keep. She was drained of energy and barely able to walk under her own power. If not for Graeme’s arm around her, she couldn’t have negotiated the stairs.
Alyce, who had just come from the kitchen, saw Blair and rushed to her aid. “What is it, lass? Are ye ill?”
“I’m taking Blair up to bed,” Graeme said. “Come with me, she’s going to need you.”
Scooping Blair into his arms, he carried her up the stairs and into the master’s chamber, where he set her on her feet. “If you can manage without me, sweeting, I should . . . take care of a pressing matter.”
Blair knew it wasn’t going to be easy for Graeme to give the news of Glenda’s death to her parents and kinsmen. She wished him well as she sent him on his way.
“Dinna worry about me,” she added. “I’m going to take a nap after Alyce helps me undress.”
Graeme kissed her on the lips and advised her to stay in bed until she felt strong enough to rise.
“What was that all about?” Alyce asked. “Ye’re weak as a kitten. Did something happen while ye were gone?”
