“Aye.”
She closed her eyes and tried to relax, but for the life of her, she couldn't manage to get comfortable. Problem number one was easy to figure out; she wasn't used to sleeping on her side. Problem number two was just as simple, she was waiting for Lila's next attempt to escape her bedroom, and sneak downstairs for a drink. Problem number three, she'd become used to sleeping with Mary in the room. Problem number four, the despondent expression she got every time Charlzie was allowed to visit the Keep.
“What has you digging your nails into my flesh, lass?”
Lost in her concerns, she hadn't the foggiest what he was talking about until she lifted her head. Even beneath his massive hand covering hers she could see her fingers clenching his skin. She opened her mouth to convey her apology when he pulled her up so they were face to face.
He cupped her skull in his hand, his fingers tangling in her hair, when he kissed her.
She was happy for the new distraction. Her lips moved over his, reveling in the feel of his mouth. It was soft yet firm and undeniably sensual.
A crash from the balcony broke the spell. “Oh God, here we go again,” she muttered. Throwing back the covers, she glared at Iaen when he refused to release her. “I have to stop Lila.”
“Why?”
“Because I do.”
“Lass, let her be. You cannae change her.” He brushed his fingers through her hair. “She needs to want to change.”
“I can't let her go get drunk.”
“Is that her decision?”
“Well, of course it is, but you don't know how she can be when she's drunk. She'll...she'll.” Blast this damn language. “She'll cause trouble.”
“A woman? You jest.”
“No, I don't jest, or joke, or make idle predictions. Lila can be a real troublemaker when she wants to be, and take that as always when she's sauced.” She purposefully enunciated the word 'always' to get him to follow her meaning.
A scream echoed through the room.
Before Jenny even made it to the edge of the mattress, Iaen was striding across the room. “What are you doing?” She wasn't really asking about the 'what' but about his bare ass standing before the door. He was crazy to go around with his butt and jewels on display. “Shouldn't you put some clothes on?”
He chuckled at her and opened the door just far enough to address Malcolm who was standing sentry. She listened to him say something to his subordinate. “I'm going to die of fright if you don't tell me what you said.”
“I said,” he began after the door shut and the bolt was slid home. “I ordered Malcolm to lock her in her room.”
“It won't stop her. She'll just make a bigger racket. Believe me, I've tried it already.”
“Fine, then she will drown out the sounds of me bringing you satisfaction.”
“What the hell are you doing? There are children trying to get some sleep in the far bedroom.” She backtracked her way across the bed when he stalked her with his hard on and his wolfish smile. “Iaen, it's not fair to the kids.”
“Is it fair to you?”
“Of course it isn't.”
“Will you cope?”
“Do I have a choice?” Jenny winced when Lila threw something against the adjoining wall. It was amazing how the acoustics of the Keep worked. There were at least eight inches of stone separating them and she could still hear the commotion. “You know I don't.”
“Neither do the children. On the morrow, she will be moved to a cottage in the village.”
“You can't be serious.”
“I am.”
“She'll wreak havoc on those poor innocent people. I know her, Iaen. She'll get so drunk,” her voice caught. “She'll kill herself with alcohol.” Memories of her father being rushed to the Emergency Room after a weekend long bender brought all the horror home. He'd had his stomach pumped so many times, promised her he'd go into rehab after each time he was released that she felt like she'd failed him. She had failed him. She couldn't infuse his life with her mother's steadying presence or get him to give up mourning the woman he'd loved to distraction. In her opinion, she'd practically-held-a-gun-to-his-head, killed him. “Don't do it.” Tears stung at her the corners of her eyes. “Don't make me go through that again.” The last time he'd gone into the hospital played through her mind like a super-high definition movie. He'd been throwing up blood but refused to tell her what was wrong. When he finally confessed he was sicker than he'd let on it was too late. His heart gave up just before his kidneys failed.
“Lass, you are no more responsible for her actions, than she is able to control herself when she is deep in her cups.” He grabbed her arm, steadying her on the lip of the bed a split second before she fell to the stone floor. Gathering her in his arms, he held her through the emotional storm. “There isnae aught you can fix.”
“I hate you, Jenny. Do you hear me? I hate you.”
“She's screaming out the window,” Jenny explained. “She can't get to me, but she is in her own way. She's tearing me up inside.”
“Jenny, you cannae let her destroy you.”
Easy for you to say. You don't have to live with yourself after she pukes blood and blames you for all her mistakes. Curling into his embrace, Jenny wanted to run, just not back to the future or the past or out of the Castle Kincaid. Nope. She wanted to escape the memories that wouldn't ever leave her alone.
“Tell me,” he prompted her when she started to babble in a nonsensical mish-mash of English, French and Gaelic. She threw in some Latin here and there, confusing the mix even more. She couldn't center on a specific language, that's how deep her confusion went.
It wasn't so much he could understand her. Exhausted to the point her teeth ached and her body moved in robotic form, she sobbed. It was that he was willing to listen to her.
She poured out all her worries, grief and fears in a gush. “I don't want to do this anymore. I don't want to have us live like this.”
***
Iaen listened to her. The smattering he understood told him a story he detested. His lady had been put through hell, and at each turn, she'd been left very alone with her guilt. “Shh,” he whispered when her tears were finally spent.
Laying her back on her pillow, he held her close. The whole time he waited for her breathing to even out, he came to grips with a bitter truth. Jenny had faced as much, if not more, than he had during her life. She was a warrior, but she was also a woman. She needed to be held—to have someone hear her—the penchant reminded him of his mother.
Brushing the remaining tears from her cheeks, he kissed her forehead. Assured she was fast asleep, he exited the bed. He knew exactly what he was going to do and precisely where he'd begin to heal his lady's troubled heart.
Lila was about to spend her last moments in their home.
Shoving his legs into his chauces, he strode out of the room bare-chested. He noted the people standing on his balcony. “Patricia, is Mary asleep?”
“Nay. 'Twould take death for her to sleep through all the caterwauling. Miss Lila is in a fit tonight. That be for sure, milord.”
“See Mary is placed with milady and don't leave them until I return.”
“At once, milord.”
“Elspeth, stay with Patricia's elder children. They may worry for her safety and try to leave the room. Malcolm, go with her. I'll not have frightened children in harm's way if I could have prevented it.” And in harm's way they could possibly be, Iaen thought when another clang echoed through the Great Hall.
“Aye, milord,” the cook responded. The two women dashed down the balcony. Malcolm followed a few paces behind them.
“Father Thomas, you are with me.”
“She's throwing her water pitcher about, milord,” the priest confided. “'Tis the only weapon she has aside from the tin cup milady has allowed her to use. Her supper tray was removed hours ago.”
“Thank God for small favors.”
“You think this wise? She's harboring a demon. A vile
child born in the pits of Hell. I swear she is.”
“Are you saying she's possessed?” Iaen forced his hand to remain at his side instead of signing the cross. Even he couldnae shake the fear of being in the presence of the possessed. This was a new fly in the ointment. Possession! 'Twould the devil enter his home? Aye. By any easy path or means available to him would he infiltrate Kincaid and with glee in his red eyes, too.
“'Tis likely, milord,” Father Thomas admitted as Iaen turned the key in the lock. “I have petitioned Edinburgh for the right to excise her demons, but have not received a response. I could attempt the rites without approval, but I have nay experience to call upon. She is the first I've met who carries an evil spirit. 'Tis sad that I didnae conclude the truth afore she was well established in this chamber.” A scowl creased Father Thomas' brow.
“You think the demon has taken up residence in the Keep?”
“Nay. The demon doesnae wish to give up the body it inhabits.”
“I am placing her in one of the village's empty cottages.” Iaen's hand stilled from turning the iron ring. His limited options mocked him. 'Struth, there was only one way to free Lila. Exorcism. “There, you must release the demon from her.”
“'Twould be best if you took her as far away from the clan as possible. The demon may find another soul if not captured or sent back to its creator.” Father Thomas nodded. “I will try my best, milord, but I will need help. Men to hold her down and 'twould be best if a seminarian joined me during the undertaking. This is a very powerful demon, milord. The task ahead is daunting, exhausting.”
“There are a few hovels on the riverbank which are inhabitable.” He slowly turned the ring gripped in his hand. “Call upon whoever you need. If I have to, I will fetch a priest from the monastery myself.” 'Twas a long ride, but well worth it. He couldnae have a demon roaming the countryside.
“My thanks, milord.”
He refused to think of the clan's reactions to the news. Gossip, the likes that couldnae be halted with a glare or muttered word became his focus. Would the clan consider Charlzie or Jenny possessed simply for no better reason than they had appeared at the same time? The sickening answer was, ‘aye, they would’.
He ripped his cognizant thoughts away from his hideous musings. There was but a simple truth. The exorcism would have to occur quietly if at all possible and as far away from the main body of the clan as he could find. “Let us be at it then.”
“Milord, you do understand what must be done if the demon refuses to leave her. I cannae change the Holy Canon.”
Iaen imagined his clan working in a frenzy to plant a caber in the ice-hardened ground and bundling up kindling to burn the woman. A bitter taste filled his mouth. Never afore had there been a witch’s bed on Kincaid land. He was loathe to have his acceptance of the practice planting a seed in his clan's minds. He'd not have them take to burning aught or many because of fear. 'Twas not acceptable to his way of thinking, but he couldnae put the clan at risk either. The demon, if there was one, needed to leave this place. “Aye.” He swallowed hard, hating the idea of sentencing a woman to death by fire if the rites didn't work or if he couldnae explain away her irritating behavior. If the clan was convinced beyond sane measure that Lila harbored an unholy soul, there would be hell to pay. A chill stiffened Iaen's spine. His main concern centered on the woman lying in his bed. Guilty by association. Over my rotting corpse. He mused as he entered the pitch black chamber. “I understand.”
He dodged the pitcher thrown at his head.
Peering into the darkness, Iaen made out a sight that froze the blood in his veins. A repulsive smell reeked from the woman sitting on the mat, smiling at him. Lila, who had never been beautiful in his opinion, looked as if she'd suffered through five gales and never cleansed herself afterward. Dressed in a homespun gown, she needed to gain a stone to survive the tough Highland winter. The food. Aye. That was the smell. She had thrown it out the window but hadn't thought of the wind splattering it across the tower's exterior wall. “Father, do not enter.”
He frowned at the scene illuminated by the light filtering in from the torch-lit balcony. Across the walls and over the floor, she'd scribbled words and pictures he didnae understand. “You should take better care of yourself, Lila,” he taunted, tempting her anger to make her unpredictable, reckless. He listened to Father Thomas translate his statement into a new, oblique language.
He waited for Thomas to relate her caustic reply. “Yeah. Right. Like you know the first thing about me.”
Iaen threw a glance over his shoulder to see Father Thomas standing in the doorway. He listened to his next translation which made not a lick of sense. It appeared not only had his wife put her mind to adapting to their way but Father Thomas had familiarized himself with the woman's native language. “What would you tell me about yourself?”
She didn't even wait for Thomas to finish telling her what Iaen had said.
“Are you stupid? You don't know who I am?” She pushed herself up. Craning her head back as far as she could, she peered down her nose at him. He might not understand every word she said, Father Thomas' translation sketchy at best, but he saw rebellion brewing in her obstinate expression. “I own the world. It's my oyster, my cup of tea, and my domain. I'm just playing along with you until my father comes for me. He will.” She paused, her chest heaving with frustration or anxiety. “You can tell that little bitch in the next room that I'm not buying her delusion. I know this isn't anything more than a stupid publicity stunt.”
Having heard the words Thomas repeated and not understanding half of them, Iaen knew it was time to end this game. “Really?” He walked up to her and prepared himself for a fight.
“Yeah.” Lila spat on him. “So you can tell her to knock it off and call me a cab. But she better understand this now, she'll never work in LA when I get done with her. No fucking way will I give her a reference. Everybody knows I'm one mean bitch when I want to be. Right now, I'm going to get my way.”
She didn't put up a fight. Nay, she left with him under her own power. Iaen caught her when she flinched back from the too bright lights.
“I want my daddy to know I hate him, too. He's a sick son of a bitch, and I'll never forgive him. Fuck, I'll sue him for emotional abuse and kidnapping once I'm freed.”
“Milord, she doesn't believe she's in the past.”
'Twasn't afore that moment that Iaen really believed The Veil existed. “Tell her, I'm going to take her to her sire. After she's reunited with him, I could care less what happens to her.”
Father Thomas nodded and he relayed the information. “She isnae going to believe you, milord.”
“That is not the issue. Donnae, under aught circumstances, have milady enter that room until it is thoroughly cleansed of Lila's evil.”
“You wish me to cleanse the room, milord?”
“Aye. It reeks of Hell.” 'Twas a way of keeping the clan out of the room, too. He'd use their superstition against them. He'd put Elspeth and Patricia to the task once he returned.
“Ah,” Father Thomas toned. “'Twill be done as soon as it is scrubbed from ceiling to floor. I'll have to pick the right evergreen to burn as incense.”
“That's my intention, Father. I want no reminder of Lila living within these walls to remain.”
“Hey, look, Mr. Tall, Dark, and Oh So Handsome, I know you hooked up with Jenny, but that's water under the bridge. I can give you one of the best blow jobs you ever got. I even go anal.”
Escorting her down the stairs, Iaen didnae know what she said and didnae care. Father Thomas walked a few paces sounding as if he couldnae make hide or hair of her meaning. “Thank you, Miss Lila.”
“You want to try me out? Take me on? I'll tell you this, I'm better than the current chief slut and cock sucker. Give me a whirl. I'm good.” She ran a finger across his collar bone then headed her touch south, pinching his nipple between her thumb and forefinger. “I'll try anything once—or in my case, open my eyes to the wild
and kinky form of a Scottish fuck. Hell, I'm game for anything.”
“I cannae tell you, milord. It's the demon talking.”
Stupid, stubborn or possessed, Iaen was at a loss as to what to make of her blathering. Speaking in tongues took on new meaning when she whispered what he supposed was an illicit threat against his chest. He escorted Lila into the Great Hall. He met his downstairs guard with a frown. “See she's taken to Patricia's old cottage. I'll join you shortly.”
“Aye, milord.”
“Father, tell me who at the seminary is qualified to assist you.”
“The monsignor would serve us well. Wait here, milord, I'll send him a quickly penned missive to explain the situation.”
Iaen stared up at his chamber door. “Pray for me, milady.”
For at that time, Iaen felt he needed all the prayers in the world to see him through the next few days.
Chapter Seven
And just when you thought the world had turned to sunbeams and kisses—yeah, right.
Jenny stretched. “Sorry,” she said to Mary. “I'm not used to sleeping next to someone, especially not a pint-sized midget.” Trying to shift her weight back, Jenny became grossly aware of a firm wall behind her.
A rumbling chuckle from Iaen competed with the anxious movements of the baby. “Shh, it's all right, sweet bairn.” She rubbed her hand over the baby's downy head. Mary settled herself by suckling on her fist. “He isn't always the best mannered man I've ever met, but he's harmless.”
“The hell I am harmless.”
“Milady, I'll take Mary back to our room,” Patricia whispered before she plucked the swaddled babe from beside her.
Immediately awake, Jenny flopped over onto her back. “Iaen Kincaid, what are you up to?” Jenny's gaze snapped to the arrow slit. It wasn't even dawn yet.
“There is no trickery afoot, my lady. 'Tis a husband's privilege to sleep with his wife. Though I will admit I regretted not coming to bed sooner for I fear Mary and you take all the space and leave me with a pittance.”
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