Medieval Romantic Legends

by Kathryn Le Veque

  If she were free, she could work as a healer—a real healer, not just one who could only see patients when her brother wasn’t paying attention. She could help more people. She could live as she pleased, marry whom she pleased. Perhaps she could even marry a man like Garrick.

  Her heart pounded furiously at the thought. Of course, she hardly knew him, so she wouldn’t let her mind rush to thoughts of a life with him, but maybe she could find someone who was as kind, or who would accept her as a skilled healer, or who stirred her and made her stomach flutter, the way the mere sight of him did.

  Yes, the man standing behind her moved her in ways she didn’t even understand, but this wasn’t about him—it was about her freedom. But perhaps he could help her.

  Letting that thought simmer for the moment, she turned back to face Garrick. He loomed over her, his naked torso dominating her field of vision. He was a patient at the moment, she reminded herself as she tried to keep her eyes from roving all over him.

  She failed. She couldn’t help but drink in the sight of all those contours and muscular planes. Something hitched in the back of her mind, though. She had noticed it before when she was checking his shoulder, but hadn’t registered it.

  “How did you get these scars? I would have expected to see burn marks on a blacksmith, not so many healed cuts.”

  His eyes flashed, and he paused for a moment before answering her. “My brothers and I roughhoused with each other a lot. When we were children, we fancied ourselves knights.”

  “Jousting and sword fights and all that?” she said with a wry smile.

  “Yes, something like that,” he replied, one corner of his mouth quirking into something resembling mirth. “But we grew out of it,” he continued, more serious suddenly. Something dark lay behind his words, but she didn’t want to pry.

  “If you’ll sit again, I’ll wrap your shoulder, which should ease the pain.”

  He obliged, and she dipped a strip of cloth from her basket into the paste bubbling over the fire. She approached him, blowing gently on the paste-covered cloth to cool it enough to apply it to his skin. After placing the strip across his shoulder, she returned to the caldron, repeating the steps until his shoulder was covered in comfrey-soaked cloth.

  As she finished arranging the last of the strips, his hands suddenly came up and wrapped around her waist. Before she could get out a gasp of surprise, he had pulled her down onto his lap, and placed a kiss on her surprise-parted lips.

  He hadn’t meant for it to happen, but he damn well didn’t regret it either.

  Her nearness was intoxicating him, making it hard for him to think straight. Hi didn’t plan on getting involved, but hearing the strain in her voice when she mentioned her lowlife of a brother had made him furious—and protective, for some reason. This lass was none of his concern, but then why was his blood boiling at the thought of her brother laying a hand on her in anger? And why was he so intrigued at her apparently strong feelings of connection with Scotland? And why had his cock stirred when he had held her delicate wrist in his hand and inhaled the scent of her?

  When she had pursed those plump red lips and blown on the cloth, however, that was his undoing. His mind had flown unbidden to thoughts of what else those lips might do, and he had nearly lost his battle to control his cock. It was all he could do to stop from pulling her to him right then, but he had managed to resist.

  It wasn’t until the last piece of cloth had been placed on his shoulder and her hands drew back that he lost his battle. He wanted more of her touch, wanted to feel her fingertips grazing across his skin again, to feel just how soft and sweet her lips actually were.

  It was even better than he could have hoped. Her surprise melted almost instantly into soft tentativeness. He forced himself to keep the kiss light, just a brush of his lips against hers. His hands stayed around her waist, and hers rested between them against his bare chest. Just when he was about to break off the relatively innocent kiss, she leaned into him a little, pressing her lips more firmly against his and slightly curling her fingers into his skin.

  He tilted his head to deepen the kiss. Their lips melded more firmly together. She made a little noise like a sigh, and he took the opportunity to brush his tongue against her slightly-parted lips. She inhaled with surprise as his tongue gently teased the inside of her mouth, but she melted even further into him, moving her hands from his chest to wind around his neck.

  Slowly at first, then with more confidence, she matched the movements of his tongue, caressing, teasing, and intertwining. Heat shot to his cock, which was pressed against her bottom. He gripped her hips, pressing her more firmly into his lap, even though he was only increasing the exquisite, pleasurable torture.

  “Ahem.”

  Jossalyn shot like a spooked cat out of his lap and onto her feet at the sound of Burke’s voice in the doorway.

  “Am I interrupting?” Burke asked innocently, though his raised eyebrow and quirked mouth said he had seen enough to know the answer to his question.

  “No, no, I was just…I’m all finished here,” Jossalyn stammered out, her cheeks flaming red.

  “What do you want, Burke?” Garrick ground out through gritted teeth. Damn his cousin’s bad timing—or was it good timing? How far would he and Jossalyn have gone? And what would have been the consequences to his mission? Christ, he had let his cock do his thinking for him.

  “I finished up with that horseshoe and came in to see how it was going in here. Garrick, you look like you feel better already,” Burke replied, his smile widening.

  “I should go,” Jossalyn said in a small voice. She snatched her basket from the table and hurried to the back door, pushing past Burke with her head down.

  “Jossalyn, wait!” Garrick strode after her, pausing only to say out of the side of his mouth to Burke, “You’ll pay for embarrassing her like that.” Burke only grinned wider in response.

  Garrick caught up with her in the alleyway leading off the smithy’s backyard. He moved in front of her to stop her hurried steps, but she kept her head down, not meeting his eyes.

  “Jossalyn, pay no heed to Burke’s teasing. He only meant to aim it at me.”

  “But we shouldn’t have—I shouldn’t—”

  He placed a finger under her chin and lifted it so that her eyes met his. Their emerald depths were clouded over with embarrassment. He struggled to find the words that would ease her shame, to express to her how much that one kiss had stirred him. He couldn’t even believe he was chasing after her; normally, he let the lasses come and go, enjoying their company but nothing more. But with Jossalyn, he longed for more—more contact, more kisses, more conversations.

  “I want to see you again,” he finally managed.

  “But you will likely leave in a few days’ time when John is caught up on his orders, and I—I wouldn’t be able to come and see you even if you stayed.”

  Her fragmented and cryptic speech brought a question to his mind, but he pushed it aside for the time being. He had to convince her somehow to see him again, for he didn’t know what he would do if he never laid eyes on her again.

  Damn his brother and this mission. He hadn’t wanted to go on an information gathering operation in the first place, and now that he was here in the Borderlands with this remarkable lass, he had to leave. Burke was clever in letting it be known that they would be moving on shortly. It would rouse less suspicion if they had only planned on staying a short while from the beginning, but he had never foreseen becoming so enthralled with an English lass.

  “Please, Jossalyn, I have to see you again,” he said simply, unable to explain the situation to her, and not fully understanding his strong desire for her either.

  She bit her lower lip, a look of frustration crossing her face. Finally, she said, “All right. I will visit you again. But,” she said seriously, “we cannot…behave so intimately again. We must be friends, and no more.”

  He felt his face grow dark. Why would she deny the passion that clea
rly crackled like lightning between them? Why would she push him away like this?

  Then it dawned on him. She was protecting herself. She was keeping her distance so that she wouldn’t get overly involved, knowing as she did that he would be leaving soon. She had the strength to do what he was too weak to attempt. He wanted any time he could get with her, but wouldn’t that make his departure harder on both of them?

  He considered her demand that they act as friends. Would it even be possible? Based on his body’s reaction to their kiss, it wasn’t likely. But then again, he would rather see her again, if only for a few days, than not at all.

  “Very well. Will you come by the smithy tomorrow?”

  She nodded, her green eyes clearing slightly. “Yes. I’ll come check on your shoulder.”

  He let his hand fall from under her chin and stepped back from her. She scrutinized him for a moment longer, her expression somewhere between quizzical and decisive. Seeming to have come to some sort of conclusion, she gave another little nod and walked around him and down the alley.

  He waited until she was out of sight, then barreled back toward the smithy with one intention. He found Burke still smiling and leaning against the frame of the smithy’s back door. Without ado, Garrick marched up to him and plowed his fist into his stomach. Burke immediately doubled over with a loud grunt.

  “What was that for?” he wheezed when he could finally speak.

  “You know.”

  “Well, someone had to bring you back down to earth, Garrick,” he replied, straightening slowly. “How does making googly eyes at a pretty lass and then kissing her senseless help our mission again?”

  Garrick gritted his teeth. Unfortunately, Burke had a point. “She seems somewhat sympathetic to the Scottish cause. I was hoping to learn whether or not she had heard of any seeds of rebellion within the village.” That was close enough to the truth. Burke didn’t need to know that Garrick hadn’t felt this drawn to a lass since—well, ever.

  “We should likely only stay a day or two longer. I heard from the baker this morning that there are rumors that Longshanks is ill.”

  Garrick sobered suddenly, his anger at Burke and his desire for Jossalyn pushed aside at such serious news. “Those rumors have been floating around for months. What makes them different this time?”

  “Apparently Warren isn’t the only one in Cumberland. Several of the aristocracy have gathered there and are said to be attending Edward’s bedside.”

  This could be it then, the true start or end to the wars for Scottish independence, once and for all. Edward wasn’t called the “Hammer of the Scots” for nothing—he had made it his personal mission to eradicate not only Scottish culture and sovereignty, but the very people themselves. His death could either be the rallying call for the entire English army, or it could be the swan song of English efforts to control Scotland.

  “I have to get to the Bruce,” Garrick said softly. He needed to report to his King, and prepare for the fallout from Edward’s illness and possible death.

  “We need to get to your brother, remember?” Burke said just as softly. “He is our Laird, and he is the one who sent us on this mission.”

  “My brother and the Bruce both sent me here, and the Bruce is our King.”

  “We can decide on the way north, but either way, we should be going soon.”

  Garrick ran a hand through his hair. “Aye, you’re right.”

  “Tomorrow evening.” Burke said simply. Garrick shot him a look, but Burke had an apologetic expression on his face. “That way you’ll at least get to say goodbye to the lass.”

  “Aye. Thank you for that.”

  Burke nodded and moved into the smithy to continue his work. Garrick was left standing in the yard by himself, contemplating how to say goodbye.

  Chapter Eight

  Jossalyn was being vain. But she wanted her hair to be just right today. She had selected her brightest green dress, the one she knew brought out her eyes to their best effect. Now it was just a matter of taming her blonde locks into the intricate plaiting pattern she used for special occasions.

  She had barely been able to sleep last night, but it wasn’t just because her mind had tumbled relentlessly over her kiss with Garrick.

  Her first kiss. Yes, she had pecked a few stable lads on the lips when she had been a girl, but she had never experienced a real adult kiss between a man and a woman. It wasn’t at all what she thought it would be like. She had seen others kiss, but never with their tongues involved, and besides, seeing someone else was entirely different that experiencing the rush of sensation for herself.

  Despite the long and sleepless night that had stretched since that kiss, she could still perfectly remember the soft heat of his mouth, his firm hands on her waist and hips—and something else that was also quite firm in his lap. She blushed for the umpteenth time at the thought, and at the memory of Burke’s knowing smile when he had barged in on them.

  Pushing her embarrassment aside, she tightened the green ribbon on the end of her plaited hair. She had more important things to think about now than her girlish blushes and that wondrous kiss.

  She was going to escape—her brother, the castle, some grandfatherly husband, everything.

  She didn’t know how yet, but she would. Something about yesterday had caused a shift inside her. She could no longer live under the thumb of her brother, stifled and useless behind the walls of Dunbraes Castle. She had felt stuck for so long, unable to live as she wished, but unable to do anything about it either. She had bought into her brother’s manipulation, thinking that things must be as he wished them to be. But now, she suddenly saw a new door cracking open, revealing a future of her choosing.

  Certainly, Garrick’s sudden entrance into her life had facilitated this, but she wasn’t pinning all her hopes on him to rescue her. That was why she had insisted that they act as friends for the remainder of his time in the village. She still barely knew him, and both he and his cousin would likely be leaving the village soon anyway. It would be naïve at best, and dangerous at worst, to continue allowing their passion to overwhelm them. Soon, he would be gone, and if she weren’t careful to separate her feelings for him from her desire for freedom, she could end up at the whims of fate yet again, instead of in control of her future.

  But she had to admit, he had awakened something in her, shown her what life could be like if she were in charge of it. She could live in a place where her healing skills were valued, where people cared for her, where, perhaps, she could even be loved for who she was. He had shown her what passion was, and she wanted more.

  So she would leave and start life over someplace new. Just the thought sent shivers of excitement and anticipation coursing through her. Suddenly she had a brighter future, even though the path to get to it was still unknown.

  This newfound energy and confidence surged through her as she made her way toward the village. She would make her rounds to check on her patients, and then swing by the smithy to see how Garrick’s shoulder and John’s hip were doing. By the time she got back to the castle that evening, Gordon would likely be taking his first solid food in several days. She wouldn’t have many more days like this, sneaking to the village and dodging her brother’s lackey.

  Before yesterday, she would have felt deep grief for the ending of this brief reprieve from her older brother’s control. Now, she welcomed the end of the need to hide and lie about what she was doing. Soon enough, once she worked out the details, she would no longer have to risk punishment for doing what she loved.

  Her joy must have been evident, for everyone she passed as she moved about the village smiled back at her, some even commenting on the beautiful summer day or how hale and hearty she was looking. She breezed through her visits as if she were the warm summer wind itself. By late afternoon, she had finished all her house calls and errands and headed toward the smithy.

  She approached from the alley again, but no one was working there this time, so she went to the back door
and knocked lightly before entering.

  Instantly, she felt like she was intruding on something private and important, and her good mood faltered for a fraction of a second. Burke and Garrick were sitting across from one another at one of John’s large tables, both leaning in on their elbows with their heads close together. Both heads whipped around when she entered, and their eyes, Burke’s dark blue and Garrick’s steel gray, bore into her with intensity.

  “I’m sorry. I was just stopping by to check…Where is John?”

  Burke seemed to recover first and transformed smoothly into the jovial, chivalric man he always was around her. “Ah, mistress Jossalyn, what a pleasant surprise! John has gone out again, but he should be back later this evening. Is there anything we can do for you in the meantime?”

  Her eyes moved between the two men. She could feel a slight crease forming between her brows. “Is something wrong?”

  “No, of course not, my lady! It is just that…” Burke shifted his eyes to Garrick and waited, an expectant look on his face.

  Finally, Garrick broke the silence. “We leave this evening,” he said flatly.

  “Oh, so…so soon?” She sounded small and deflated even to her own ears.

  “Yes, John is all caught up with his work and is feeling much better now. Besides, we got word that our uncle may be ailing. Nothing serious, I’m sure, but we will be headed north tonight,” Burke said, not a crack showing in his veneer.

  “Yes, of course,” she said vaguely, her eyes drifting around the room, looking at the ceiling, the floor—anywhere but at Garrick. She could feel his intense gaze on her, nevertheless.

  “I wish you both a safe journey,” she said, suddenly anxious to get out of the too-warm smithy. She spun around quickly and exited through the door. Before she had gone three steps, however, she felt a large hand wrap around her upper arm, gently pulling her to a halt.

  “Jossalyn…” Garrick swam in her vision as tears welled in her eyes.

  “No, no, it’s all right,” she said airily with a wave of her hand. “I knew you were leaving. I just thought…that perhaps we would have a few more days to spend together…as friends.”