Isabella tore her mouth from his and gasped when he slipped a knee forward, pressing it against the juncture of her thighs. She moaned as her fingers twisted in the material of his shirt, enjoying the sensation as he shifted against her womanhood.
Taking a deep breath to clear her head, she took a step back and ran a trembling hand through her hair. “We can’t.”
Gerard gave her a wicked grin. “It was just a kiss, lass, nothing more.”
Isabella turned away. Aye, it had only been a kiss, but oh how she wished it had been more. Could be more, but she knew now was not the time and seriously doubted if that time would ever arrive.
They moved in different circles. Men like him considered women to be little more than play things, a pleasant way to pass the time when they were bored. A night in his bed would be enjoyable, but that would be all it would be. He would soon depart for his world and she would be left alone in hers.
Gerard turned her to face him. “I’ve offended you.”
“No,” she said, refusing to meet his eyes.
He tilted up her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Don’t think that I don’t want you, lass, because I do. I want you much, but…” He gave a sheepish grin. “I’m not in any shape for that kind of activity. Perhaps, when I am better, we can discuss it further.”
Isabella flushed as images of a naked Gerard wrapped in her arms flashed through her head. “Sounds like…fun,” she murmured.
Gerard’s grin was pure wickedness. “Oh, aye, lass, it would be most enjoyable.”
Her gaze dropped to the bulge at the front of his pants. Was it just her imagination, or had it grown larger?
“Keep staring at me like that, Bella,” Gerard growled, “and I will use what little strength I have to show you how much fun it can be.”
Isabella met his gaze. There was a challenge there, one she would have loved to accept, but he was in no shape to follow through on his promise. She pointed to where the clothes he had been wearing when he arrived were spread out on a stump to dry. “Your clothes are over there.”
Gerard looked down at the garments he was wearing. The pants were far too small and ended well above his ankles. He arched his brows. “Are you suggesting I change? I thought I looked quite dashing.”
The tension broken, Isabella’s laughter floated on the air as she walked over to retrieve his things. “I’m sorry,” she said, as she handed the garments to him. “My husband was a good deal shorter than you.”
Her expression clouded as she thought about Owen. How could she have been foolish enough to marry him in the first place? It had been obvious he hadn’t loved her. Oh, he had said all of the right words and had been eager to get her in his bed, but there had been no warmth in his eyes. Not that she hadn’t enjoyed their time together, because she had. But it was clear to her now that the words he had spoken had been empty of meaning. His promises, hollow.
Gerard winced at the raw pain stamped upon Isabella’s pretty features before she willed it away. He blew out a harsh breath as his anger began to simmer. To trick a man was one thing, but to prey upon a woman was beyond evil. To cause a woman to fall in love with you only to walk away was especially cruel and his hatred for Isabella’s husband was rekindled.
“I’m sorry, lass. Life isn’t always fair.”
“No,” Isabella whispered with a faraway look in her eyes. “No, it certainly isn’t.”
Gerard pulled her to him and gently grasped her chin. He stared down into her blue eyes, eyes that looked troubled and held a sheen of tears.
He steeled himself, preparing for the onslaught of tears he knew was coming, but none came. Instead, Isabella took a deep breath, and stepped away from him.
“I have been managing just fine on my own,” she said, staring off across the clearing.
Gerard looked around the small property. His gaze took in the chicken coop, an old horse and a scraggly garden patch lying fallow for the winter. It wasn’t much. His suite of rooms back at the castle were far bigger and much nicer.
“How do you make a living?”
A flush of anger stained Isabella’s cheeks as her gaze met his and fled. It was obvious he considered her to be a weak woman who needed a man to take care of her.
“I make do.”
It crossed Gerard’s mind that maybe she didn’t want to tell him how she made a living. There were plenty of women who were forced into prostitution just to survive. It was a cruel world and he wouldn’t judge her.
He sighed. “I won’t pass judgement on you, lass. It is a cruel world we live in and sometimes a woman has to do things she doesn’t want to just to survive.”
Isabella arched a brow as she caught the meaning behind his words. He thought she was a prostitute. She almost laughed at the thought. If Owen didn’t want her, what made him think that another man would?
“I’m a healer,” she said, with a proud lift of her chin. She was a healer and a damn good one if she did say so herself. Some women who called themselves healers only dabbled in the craft, but Isabella had taken to it like a duck to water. She had read her grandmother’s book of herbal recipes from front to back and had even added a few of her own.
“A what?” Gerard asked, praying he had misunderstood. Most healers were considered to be witches and the woman standing before him didn’t look like someone who dabbled in the occult.
He suppressed a shudder as a memory surfaced. It had happened during his travels. He had been passing through a village far from here and witnessed a mob dragging an elderly woman. By the time he had managed to break through the crowd of people, it had been too late. The woman had been tied to a stake and set alight. Sometimes at night he woke up in a cold sweat, certain he heard the woman’s anguished cries in the wind.
Isabella straightened her shoulders and looked him in the eyes. “I’m a healer. The same as my mother and grandmother before me.”
Gerard sucked in a breath. She had given him little choice but to take her with him. He couldn’t risk leaving her here. He would always wonder if she was safe or if an angry mob had broken into her home in the middle of the night and taken her away. It would kill him to find out she had met the same fate as the elderly woman.
“You’re a witch,” he said firmly, wanting her to admit it once and for all. He knew there was a difference between a healer and a witch, but most people considered them to be one and the same.
Isabella sighed deeply and shook her head. It wasn’t the first time she had been accused of being a practitioner of dark magic and probably wouldn’t be the last. “I’m not a witch,” she said, her eyes flashing fire. “I am a healer. People come to me for help with what ails them.”
Gerard gave her a slight smile. The woman was beautiful when she was angry. The rush of emotion causing her cheeks to burn a fiery red. As if on demand, the wind had picked up, whipping her long blond hair about her face and shoulders. And her teeth bit her bottom lip as if she fought to hold back a torrent of words.
Gerard arched a brow and looked around him doubtfully. There hadn’t been anyone arriving to seek out Isabella’s aid in the short time he had been here. “Do you do a fair amount of business?”
Isabella’s shoulders slumped slightly but the fire didn’t leave her eyes. “Not as much as my grandmother and mother,” she admitted. “But business has begun to increase. It takes time for people to trust a new healer, but hopefully once news spreads about how well my herbs help, customers will come regularly once again.”
Gerard suspected that people might arrive, but not to seek her aid. They would arrive in the middle of the night to cause her harm. The number of witch burnings had increased over the months. The poor women and a few men who died had been accused of causing crops to fail, turning milk sour, as well as putting curses on entire villages. Fueled by superstition as well as fear, Gerard knew that it would only get worse before it got better.
No, he had to convince her to leave. He would take her to the castle where he could keep her safe. H
e folded his arms and frowned. “You can’t stay here, lass. Winter is fast approaching and then what will you do?”
The fire flared in Isabella’s eyes. “I will make do. I am not as naïve as you think.”
Gerard’s tone gentled. “Aye, lass, I can see that you are quite capable of managing things,” he said, even though he secretly doubted it. Isabella may be a strong woman, but even she wasn’t capable of holding off an angry mob.
He arched a brow. “Winters can be harsh and you are on your own.”
Isabella watched as emotions flickered in his eyes. It was as if he waged an eternal battle, and she briefly wondered what the outcome would be.
“I will be perfectly fine here,” she said, as she stared into his eyes. He was worried about her; that was plain to see and it warmed her heart. She couldn’t remember a time when a man had cared about her safety. Owen certainly hadn’t. He had often sent her out in the dead of night to see about a noise that had awoken them from sleep. Most times it had been nothing, but one time she had noticed a set of footprints outside their cottage window. Footprints that were too big to belong to either one of them. Someone had been spying on them in the middle of the night and the thought could still make her blood run cold.
Gerard’s voice was hoarse when he answered. “Why don’t you come with me? I am heading to the Mackenzie castle.” His gaze clouded, but he pressed onward. “It will be good to be home. I have been away a number of years. There was a time when I thought I would never leave it. As captain of the guard, I thought my duty lay in defending its walls.”
He sighed as if the weight of the world rested upon his strong shoulders. “Life has a way of changing things.”
Isabella fought the urge to give him a hug. She wasn’t sure he would welcome it and didn’t want to offend him by offering him comfort like she would a hurting child.
She walked behind him as they entered the cottage. Her home seemed smaller now that he was here. It was as if his very essence permeated every nook and cranny and she knew that he would leave a void when he left.
She gave a dry laugh. In just a short time, Gerard had made more of an impression on her life than Owen had during the years he had lived here.
Isabella turned her back while Gerard changed into his own clothes and busied herself preparing what little food she had left. Gerard would have to be content with oat porridge, because there wasn’t much else. The chickens hadn’t laid eggs in weeks. She was afraid an animal had been creeping around their pen at night and scaring them, but at the moment, it couldn’t be helped.
“What do you want me to do with the clothes you loaned me?” Gerard held the bundle out to her.
Isabella stared at Owen’s old clothes. She didn’t know why she had kept them. She didn’t need nor want a reminder of the man.
“Burn them.”
Gerard arched his brows and looked at her as if he hadn’t heard correctly. “Pardon?”
“Burn them,” she repeated. “I don’t want them.”
Gerard shook his head, but didn’t argue. He tossed them into the fire and then stood back and watched as the flames licked greedily at the material. It wasn’t long before they were consumed entirely.
He turned back to Isabella, but she refused to meet his eyes. Instead, she busied herself placing a bowl of porridge on the table.
Gerard’s stomach rumbled, reminding him that it had been some time since he had eaten. Briefly he wondered when Isabella took her meals. She didn’t eat with him and he hadn’t witnessed her partaking of sustenance other times.
Isabella perched on the edge of the bed since he occupied the only chair. “Why has it been so long since you have returned home?”
Gerard paused with a bite of porridge halfway to his mouth. He placed the spoon back in the bowl and sighed. “My mother wasn’t from this part of Scotland. I was away visiting family.”
He shrugged. “Then I saw Lorna. We had met as children when she stayed at the castle with her family. She had grown into a beautiful woman.”
He paused and closed his eyes as if remembering. "We fell in love fairly quickly and decided to marry. I brought her back to the castle to live. After her death, I left. I needed to get away from the memories that haunted me at every turn. I traveled far and even put down roots for a time, but it was never home. It was never in my blood.”
Isabella’s heart jumped at the passion she saw in his eyes. The passion she knew he had for his family. For this land. What would it be like for a man to have that kind of passion for her?
She brushed the thought aside and got up to refill his cup of mead, but was stopped when his fingers closed about her wrist. She looked at him, eyes wide.
“I meant what I said, Isabella.” Gerard’s voice was solemn as he looked her in the eyes. “You are welcome to come with me. There is plenty of room at the castle and I am sure my cousin and his wife won’t mind.”
Gerard waited and watched her as she thought it over. He had offered her a choice, but in truth, she didn’t have one. He wouldn’t leave her here alone.
Isabella chewed on her lower lip as she pondered his words. The cottage was drafty. Owen had promised to work on the roof and fill the chinks in the walls, but he had left before the work could be completed.
Her gaze drifted to the cupboard which hung on the wall. Its door hung slightly ajar and its shelves were mostly empty. It was true, she wouldn’t have enough food to survive the winter, not by far, and she would be forced to butcher the chickens or starve to death.
“What about the animals?” Isabella met Gerard’s kind gaze. “I can’t just leave them. They will perish without me.”
Gerard chuckled. “Are you talking about the handful of chickens and the broken down horse I saw out front?”
She nodded.
He shrugged as if it was no concern of his. “Bring them along. I noticed you have a cart sitting in the tall grass beside the cottage. We can hitch my horse to it and tie your horse behind.”
Isabella’s stomach tightened into knots. This was her home. She had been born here and had thought she would die here. She couldn’t imagine leaving it.
“What is troubling you, lass?” Gerard willed her to look at him. “I know you will miss your home, but surely you can see you cannot possible stay here?”
Isabella nodded. There was truth in his words. There was nothing left for her here but memories. And a good share of those weren’t pleasant.
He arched a brow. “So, will you come with me?”
Isabella took a deep breath and met his steady gaze. “Aye, I will come with you and I thank you,” she said curtly, hating the fact she was forced to rely on him. Forced to rely on anyone, for that matter.
Gerard chuckled, the husky sound swirling around her. “Something tells me, lass, in the end, I will be the one thanking you.”
Chapter
Four
A short time later, they were on their way. The rickety cage with the chickens had been secured inside the cart while her horse plodded along behind.
Isabella sat stiffly on the horse, acutely aware of Gerard’s body heat. Heat that permeated the thin material of her dress, while his strong arms bracketed her on either side. In a parcel on her lap, she carried her most prized possession. The tome containing the herbal recipes that had been passed down through her family for generations.
“You are welcome to lean against me,” Gerard’s deep voice rumbled in her ear. “I won’t bite.”
Gerard’s words caused Isabella to sit up even straighter and he laughed softly. “Easy, lass,” he murmured. “I won’t hurt you. You have my word.”
Isabella knew she could trust him. He wasn’t the kind of man who would harm a defenseless woman. She couldn’t picture him raising his fists in anger against the innocent, causing them to cower in fear.
She relaxed and soon, lulled by the gently swaying of the horse and the tempting warmth that curled around her, she closed her eyes and slept.
Gerard sighed as he
pulled her back against him, securing her in his arms. He tried to ignore how right it felt. How perfectly she molded against him as if she had been made for him.
His expression darkened as he pushed the thought away. There was only one woman who had been made for him and she rested in eternal sleep deep within the earth.
No, this mere slip of a woman couldn’t compete with the memory of his dear wife and he would be wise to keep her at arm’s length. Tearing his eyes away from her beautiful upturned face, so peaceful in slumber, he made a vow to do precisely that.
Isabella awoke to loud shouts. The horse had stopped moving and she was being lifted in a pair of strong arms. She began to struggle, but then realized that the man carrying her was Gerard and they were entering a large stone structure. He stopped in the Great Hall. Rushes covered the floor and a fire burned in the fireplace that dominated the far wall. The room was empty except for a couple of servants and a group of children.
Gerard grinned down at her. “Hello, lass. Are you feeling better?” He placed her on her feet, but then wrapped a strong arm around her when she swayed against him.
Isabella coughed as her lungs filled with the wood smoke that hung in the air, creating a white haze that she had to squint to see through. Her eyes burned, making her wish for the crisp cool air and open sky. She had only been gone from her home for a few short hours, but already she missed it and longed for its familiar walls.
A dark haired girl who looked to be around seven bounded up to them, a welcoming smile on her pretty face. “Gerard! You came back!”
Gerard laughed as he released Isabella to give the girl a hug. “Didn’t I tell you I would?”
The little girl wrinkled her nose and frowned. “Aye, but you have been away a long time. You missed my last two birthdays,” she said in an accusing tone.
“Aye,” Gerard said solemnly as he crouched down so that he could look the girl in the eyes. “And I am very sorry. I didn’t intend to be away for so long.”
Loving A Highlander Page 3
