The Healer

by Allison Butler

  Sprinkling the sandalwood scented slivers into the steaming water, she used the smaller cloth to freshen her skin. Each place she bathed triggered memories of William’s passionate attentions. Her cheeks, her neck, her sensitive breasts, all came to life as she skimmed the fabric over her body. She shivered and gentled her touch as she bathed the red-hued stickiness from her thighs and the tender place above.

  The deep timbre of his voice when he’d questioned her, coupled with the strained expression on his face, showed his obvious concern for her. The food and heated water spoke of his thoughtfulness. But was he prepared to offer anything else? What more could she want?

  Much more.

  After drying, she donned her nightgown and carried the tray to the hearth. Sitting on the soft fur rug, she nibbled at the fare, silently telling herself she must be content.

  Her mind understood, though her heart rebelled – a state she’d suffered since the day she was born. Yet she’d survived.

  Returning the tray to the table, she straightened the coverlet and peered out the open window. Dawn was near. The heavy weight of longing pressed down upon her shoulders. She and William had no future together. She loved him, but couldn’t tell him.

  Should he discover she was the outcast daughter of an English lord, he’d want to know all her secrets. She couldn’t bear to have him look at her with disgust, to shun her if the reasons for her disgrace were revealed. She’d earned his trust and couldn’t bear to lose it. Her heart would surely stop beating if he ever had cause to loathe her.

  Straightening, she had no choice but to bury her dreams of shared love and focus on the harsh reality of her life. But she was determined to enjoy each moment and savour every experience with William while she was here.

  She slipped down to her chamber undetected, dressed and fixed her hair in the usual style of a single thick braid. Then she sorted through the contents of her herb sack, as if this morning was the same as any other.

  When she judged it time to meet William, she descended the stairs to the hall. Her belly fluttered with nerves and her palms grew hot and moist at the thought of seeing him again.

  After making love, they’d spoken in fire-lit darkness. He’d stood before her, barefoot and handsomely dishevelled, while she’d been wrapped in the coverlet with the evidence of their intimacy still coating her inner thighs. Now, daylight pierced the shadows and there would be no more talk or teasing as lovers. Her heart whimpered in protest. She quieted it with steely resolve.

  William stood at the bottom of the stairwell, neatly attired in fresh garments, his hair as tidy as his untamed soul allowed. His scorching gaze skimmed her from head to toe. Her body heated beneath his intense regard and heat filled her cheeks. On legs suddenly gone weak, she descended the last few stairs feeling that she might melt into a puddle at his booted feet.

  ‘Come.’

  The warmth in his tone trickled through her like un-watered wine.

  He turned for the keep’s entrance and she followed close behind. As they stepped outside into the blessed fresh air, he slowed his step.

  ‘You’re blushing,’ he said softly.

  Her face flared hotter, and she ducked her head to hide the pleasured smile hovering on her lips.

  William greeted Geordie as they climbed into the boat and Lynelle lifted her chin a notch to give the older man a glimpse of her smile.

  Turning, she stared at the water, sure it seemed clearer today. The breeze was fresher, the early-morning sun warmer.

  They alighted on the far shore and began the trek to the village.

  ‘My mother, Ilisa, walked this path daily.’

  Lynelle glanced up at the man beside her, surprised by the topic he’d chosen.

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘She deemed it her duty to pay a visit to the people who chose to live on Closeburn land, but away from the castle.’

  ‘Your mother must have been a caring, thoughtful woman.’

  ‘Aye. She was.’

  And beautiful. The stunning woman in the portrait possessed an unsurpassed elegance.

  ‘What of your mother?’ William said. A chill skittered down her spine. ‘Or is your father the beauty who gave you your enchanting looks?’

  A roaring sound rushed through Lynelle’s head. She stumbled on the smooth path. William caught her upper arms, steadying her. His troubled gaze searched her face. She looked away.

  ‘Lynelle, what is it?’

  ‘I...’ Her heart pounded. Lord God, what could she say? ‘I never knew my mother. She died moments after I was born.’ It was safer to speak of her long-dead mother than of the father who refused to know her.

  ‘Forgive me, Lynelle. I didn’t know.’

  A sharp pang of loss spiked in her chest. She swallowed. ‘There is naught to forgive, William.’

  She’d never grieved for her mother. No one had ever given her the chance. Until now. Until William.

  Pain sliced through her at his kindness, and her deception. Moving closer, she reached up and captured his face in her hands. Pulling his head down, she kissed him with all the love and passion consuming her soul. Her tongue surged inside his mouth and she pressed for more, trying to erase everything but the taste of him. Begging him for forgiveness.

  William took control, gentling the kiss. She followed his lead, basking in the soft skimming of his lips before he lifted his head. A shuddering breath escaped her. Looking up, she stared into his smouldering eyes. Over the thudding of her heart, she heard the ragged sound of his breathing.

  He stepped back, releasing his hold and glanced toward the village. ‘A pity you’re expected.’ Blazing eyes returned to her. ‘Else I would have you here, now.’

  A shiver ripped along every nerve ending. Please. Now.

  ‘Tonight,’ he said. ‘‘Will you come to my chamber tonight?’

  ‘Yes.’

  His chest swelled as he inhaled deeply. ‘Come then, before I again forget myself and why we’re here.’

  Lynelle trailed slightly at his side, relief pulsing through her veins. She’d averted further conversation about her mother and, more importantly, her father.

  She despised herself and the secrets she must keep. But if she wanted William to continue gazing at her with hot, fervent need, she would continue to use any means to distract him.

  Touching her fingertips to her lips, she cherished the tenderness his kiss left behind. Anticipation for the coming night warmed her blood, her entire being.

  But first, she had a full day of caring for those in need.

  Tonight, she’d see to William’s and her own.

  Chapter 24

  WILLIAM stared out into the star-studded sky, as the furious pounding of his blood finally slowed. The day had seemed endless, but Lynelle would come to him soon.

  Thank God.

  Mary’s joy at knowing he’d spent the past night in this chamber, his rightful place, had been obvious. She’d volunteered to stay with Edan again, but only after she’d hinted at her suspicions that he might not have spent the previous night alone.

  When he’d asked if she were concerned for Lynelle’s wellbeing, she’d stunned him by saying it was him she worried most for. He’d left her then, unprepared to deal with the apprehension clouding her wise eyes.

  His time with Lynelle was short, and hinged on the expectant birth of a bairn. Days? Hours? Perhaps knowing had sparked and heightened his suppressed passion the night before.

  Tonight, he planned to take command.

  A slight sound drew his attention to the door he’d left ajar. The opening widened, revealing a figure brushed with firelight. His heart seemed to sigh at the sight of her. His pulse quickened, his body hardened, but determination held him rigid.

  He vowed to keep control, to take it slow. He would savour every touch, every taste, every quiver, as he explored every inch of her. Tonight he planned to linger, as if he were a condemned man and she his final sustenance.

  The door clicked shut and she crossed the r
ug toward him. On bare feet, he met her advance in front of the hearth. His composure slipped a notch as his gaze stared into her desire-filled eyes and then dipped to her moist, parted lips.

  She reached for him and he captured her seeking hands. ‘Nae, Lynelle,’ he said softly. ‘Tonight is mine.’

  He released one hand, and it fell to her side. Her puzzled expression disappeared as he unfurled the slender fingers still in his grasp, and pressed his lips to her palm. His tongue skimmed the cupped centre and he relished her tremor. The shimmering gleam of desire in her eyes held a glint of understanding. He grappled with the excitement roaring through his being at her hint of surrender.

  Her plaited hair unravelled with the gentle urging of his fingers, the red-gold mass tickling the backs of his hands like strands of cool silk. He stepped closer, cradling her head and tilting her face to one side. Pressing his lips to her ear, he traced the pale shell-like skin with his tongue, his reward a gasping shudder that threatened to break his hard-fought control.

  Lavender filled every unsteady breath as he laved the delicate, pounding flesh of her neck, his deft fingers already loosening the ties of her nightgown. He spread the fabric wide, as his lips continued their eager quest to the curve between throat and the sweep of her shoulder.

  With care, he pulled the material lower, till it pooled at her waist and trapped her wrists, laying her upper body bare to his eager mouth. Her rasping breaths matched each heave of his chest as he battled for air and composure.

  His lips descended and hovered above the pebbled peaks of her breasts. Her back arched, thrusting the soft mounds within a whisper of his starving lips. Cupping the underside of one firm globe, he splayed a hand at her back. Parting his lips, he drew her pale softness into his mouth and fed his rampant desire.

  Her legs buckled and a moan of tortured delight filled the chamber. William caught her crumbling form, swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed. He stripped the gown from her writhing figure, tore his shirt from his body and pushed the plaid from his hips. He joined her on the coverlet, every ounce of control banished by the taste of her, the sound of her pleading moans, his desperate need to end her torment and his.

  He sank into her wet heat and a shudder ripped through him. Her body strained to meet his as he surged inside of her. Grasping fingers clawed his back, his shoulders, clung to his head and hair. Her body tightened, clenching him fiercely, her cry of fulfilment spurring his own release. He filled her honeyed depths, his rapturous groan mingling with her shuddering sighs.

  Collapsing, almost drained of all strength, he managed to roll to his side, drawing her against him. His thudding pulse eased and his struggle to breathe lessened as his body relaxed, sinking deeper into the bedding. Lynelle pulled closer and the muscles of his arms quivered, locking about her.

  God above, he was helpless to contain his desire. A muffled cry and a feather-like touch proved enough to send all thoughts of control from his head. His lips started to lift at the notion of his weakness, but the smile never fully formed. Forcing his heavy lids to open, he shifted his head to stare at the woman resting in his arms.

  Never had his flesh hungered so fiercely. Never had he suffered starvation after he’d feasted. He was ravenous for more.

  But it wasn’t only her body he craved.

  He wanted all of her, heart, mind and soul.

  Her smile had the power to wipe all thought from his mind. The way she viewed things and shared her ideas had him questioning his perceptions about others, about himself. Despite his mistrust and hostility, she’d shown unwavering kindness towards Edan, the castle folk and the villagers. Everyone she met she touched with her gentleness, her compassion. Including him.

  His clansmen flocked to her now, seeking her aid for all manner of ills. She’d earned his people’s trust.

  She’d won his battered heart.

  Closing his eyes, he allowed the revelation the freedom he’d not permitted before. No stabbing pain pierced his chest. Instead, soothing warmth filtered through him as if he’d emerged from the darkest pit into the sun’s beaming light.

  Who’d have guessed he’d fall in love with the healer he’d done his best to despise.

  Peering at the portrait hanging above the mantle, he finally understood the sparkle in his mother’s eyes as she gazed towards his father. Would a similar glint show in his eyes now whenever he looked at Lynelle?

  More importantly, did she look at him in such a way?

  He searched her face, but her thick lashes remained closed, shielding her secrets.

  Despite their physical closeness, a wall remained between them. This morning when he’d mentioned her mother, he hadn’t been fooled by her diversionary kiss. He’d tasted her desperation, her fear. She was hiding something, but what?

  Brushing damp strands of red-gold from her cheek, he wondered how he’d fallen in love with a woman he knew so little about. Aside from being English and skilled in the arts of healing, she resided at Fenwick, rescued kidnapped heirs and floundering toddlers and had lost her mother moments after she’d been born. But there must be more to her life.

  Did she have brothers or sisters, and what of her father? If she did, surely they’d be desperate to have her back.

  A chill swept through him. The birth of Leslie’s babe was imminent, and then Lynelle would be gone. How did she feel about leaving? Would she happily return to Fenwick, or did she hope each day and night stretched longer, as he did.

  He glanced at the door, pondering the strength of the lock, but dismissed any thoughts of forced confinement. Her passion matched his. Perhaps she’d willingly stay if he promised to love her with his body every night, and day, if necessary.

  Tracing the path of her cheek, he skimmed his fingers down her slender throat, over the slope of her pale shoulder and along the length of her arm. Pausing, he rested his palm on the curve of her hip. Why in God’s name was he worrying about her leaving while she still lay warm and soft in his arms?

  He craved to know her feelings, but didn’t dare reveal his own. Not until he discovered the secret she’d concealed with a kiss.

  His hand slid to the juncture of her thighs. Her sigh swiftly altered to a whimpered plea. Desire speared through him and he doubled his intimate efforts. Seeing her falling apart in his arms restored his pride a fraction.

  He wanted more, but this was enough...for now.

  ***

  Lynelle discreetly followed Geordie from the keep into the bailey and beyond the castle grounds through the yawning gate. While the boatman continued down the slope to the pier, seemingly unaware of her presence, she stopped at the top of the rise knowing full well the guards patrolling the battlements watched her. But they didn’t question her.

  The early-morning breeze teased her hair as the meagre warmth from the awakening sun kissed her cheeks. Exhaustion dragged at her limbs and her lashes seemed weighted, too heavy to hold open.

  Yet never had she felt such vitality.

  She’d left the cause of her lethargic vibrancy slumbering peacefully in the huge bed above stairs. She needed fresh air to gather her scattered wits, unable to think clearly while cocooned in William’s enchanting embrace.

  A shiver rippled through her as she remembered the past night. Thrice she’d reached heaven, enslaved by William’s masterful touch. She’d dozed between bouts of lovemaking, roused from sleep each time by his questing hands and searching lips. She’d responded readily, eagerly. Her body gave her no choice. Her heart overflowed with wonder, with love.

  How was she to go on?

  Her gaze brushed the rolling hills to her right. She’d ridden over the gentle mounds, drenched by teeming rain on the day she’d arrived here. Her past lay in that direction. She shuddered at the thought of returning. Beneath her cloak, she hugged herself. Dear God, she didn’t want to go back.

  But if she didn’t she’d never gain her father’s approval.

  Delving deep, she searched her heart and soul. Could she ever f
ind peace without having her father acknowledge her?

  Yes!

  The swiftness of her answer rocked her.

  She’d gladly sacrifice hearing her father call her his daughter for William’s love.

  She never thought her life-long dream could be replaced by another. But she’d never imagined falling in love either.

  Inhaling deeply, she drank in the lush scenery beyond Castle Loch. The flat meadow, which she crossed daily to walk the path to the village, seemed so familiar now. A band of stout oaks, their solid branches reaching out to touch the tree alongside, formed a formidable barrier to the north, shielding the inhabitants of Closeburn, keeping the rest of the world at bay. The verdant beauty of the landscape stole her breath. But it was much more than the picturesque surroundings calling to her.

  She’d found purpose here. Using her burgeoning skills as a healer to help those in need had given fullness to her wasted existence, enriching her life and sparking her first taste of happiness.

  Would the clan folk welcome her if she stayed? Did William want her to? If so, in what guise was she to live here? Healer? Lover? Both? Would it be enough?

  ‘Tell me your thoughts.’

  Lynelle started. Her heart pitter-pattered in her chest as William’s low, deep voice washed over her. Turning her head, she looked up into his glittering grey eyes and forgot to breathe.

  I’ve fallen in love.

  Her fingers dug into her sides as she tore her hungry gaze away and stared at the view. She loved William with all her body and soul, but aside from his desire to wring mewling cries from her lips as he joined his body with hers, she had no clue about his feelings for her. He held power over her and she feared revealing her heart’s secret. She’d withstood rejection all her years, but could she survive his?

  ‘It is beautiful here.’