She was coming down the stairs, light-footed, and he narrowly avoided walking into her.
“Chrissie!”
She looked down, then up at him. Her cheeks were paler from the recent illness, but flushed with pink. She had her lips parted, and the moist line between them made his whole body ache with wanting.
“Blaine,” she said softly. She stepped down one stair, her footfall almost inaudible even in the heavy silence between the two of them. She faced him, then, and neither moved.
Kiss her, his mind cried aloud. He leaned forward, wanting to do it, but at the last moment he tensed. Withdrew. Stood alongside.
“You want to visit the garden?” he asked politely. Chrissie giggled.
“I had hoped to,” she agreed.
He swallowed. The lilt of her voice was stirring enough to his blood, without being teamed with the scent of her or the sight of those pink lips, just parted, close enough to kiss.
“Well, then,” he whispered.
She looked at him quizzically and he shook his head to clear it. He held out a hand to her, indicating that she go first.
“Thank you,” she murmured. She walked lightly round him, her hip just touching his as she slid past him and went on down ahead.
He almost made an audible sigh. Even that harsh jolt of her against him made him want to cry out, to hold her close. How was it possible to want someone like this?
He sighed and followed her shadow down the long stairs and towards the great hall.
They crossed the flagstones in silence, her body beside his. Blaine looked about the hallway, noticing guards he knew on duty. Farrell and Kenneth both knew him. Both looked studiously away.
Blaine sighed.
“Yes?” Chrissie asked, looking up at him with those wide blue eyes. “You sound tired. What's troubling you?”
“What? Oh,” he sighed. “Nothing, truly.”
She gave him a disbelieving glance, but allowed him to stand aside as they left the hallway and entered the courtyard. Blaine knew his men were gathering, waiting for the morning practice, but he had thought to inform Brennan, his second in command, to take practice for him.
“Ah, how lovely!” Chrissie exclaimed as they walked into sunshine. They crossed flagstones and she did a little twirl, her cream skirts billowing about her ankles as she did so. She gave him a smile so happy it set his heart racing.
“Sunshine?” he queried mildly.
“Yes!” she gave him an enthusiastic grin. “I've been inside three days!”
He laughed. “That sounds terrible, the way you say it.”
“It is!”
They both laughed. She walked on and they continued, heading towards the garden.
The sun was indeed out, shining on the grass as they walked toward the kitchens. This was truly the nicest part of the castle holding, or so Blaine always thought himself. Here the paving stones of the courtyard proper gave way to soil and flowerbeds and grasses, the herbs for the kitchen all grown in good, honest earth.
“Oh, this is so nice!” Chrissie enthused.
Blaine smiled, enjoying how happy she was as she ran on ahead of him, dress flowing behind.
Her body was slim but had curves in lovely places – full breasts and, from the back, a narrow waist and wide hips. A pert backside that made a soft undulation as she ran. Blaine felt his pulse quickening and wanted to chastise himself.
Stop it, he scolded himself crossly. You're here to escort her on a gentle stroll. Not to get daft ideas of your own.
All the same, much as he tried to quell his rising wanting, he could not really do it. Especially not as she ran towards him, cheeks flushed, laughing, holding a flower.
“You have to do one too!” she beamed.
“One what?” Blaine asked, bemused.
“You have to make a wish and blow the thistledown,” she explained patiently, as if to a child. “If it all blows away, your wish will be true! See if it's not. Please?”
Blaine grinned. The flower, on closer inspection, was indeed a seed head. He held it to his lips and drew in his cheeks, preparing for a firm breath.
I want to show Chrissie how much I love her.
He blew out, exhaling in a great explosive out breath. The seeds scattered, all but one clinging to the stalk. He looked rueful. She smiled up at him.
“Not so lucky, then?”
“I suppose,” he sighed, feeling a bit downcast. He shook his head, grinning. Her eyes were as blue as forget-me-nots, as blue as sky at morning. Blue as lochs in spring. She was looking at him and she hadn't moved.
He looked at her. He took a single step forward, all that was needed to close the gap between them. She did not move.
He bent down and, very gently, he kissed her.
Her lips were soft, so soft, softer than the finest satin thread. Her mouth was warm and when he probed against it gently with his tongue, lapping along the curvy line of her mouth, they parted. He shuddered and let his tongue slide in, just touching her teeth.
His tongue slid between her lips, he moved it slightly, and to his amazement her teeth parted, letting him enter her mouth. His blood flooded his body, making his groin tingle. He knew he was ready for her and steeled himself, knowing he could not touch her no matter how much he wanted to. She was leaning against him now and her mouth was soft, her lips tugging gently at his tongue. He groaned and held her close.
She looked up at him. He licked along her mouth again, squeezing her tight. Then stepped back.
Chrissie stared at him, lips slightly open. Her eyes were wide and shiny. Her breath faster.
“Chrissie,” he whispered. “I...”
“Hush,” she said lightly.
He smiled. She smiled back and her eyes were soft. He felt something move within him, something sweet and tender and quite wonderful flowing from his heart and suffusing his being. He sighed. He was irrevocably enchanted with her.
“Chrissie,” he sighed. “Forgive me?”
Chrissie stared at him. The lips, which had been slightly parted widened, then snapped shut as she spoke. “Forgive?” she laughed. “For what?”
“I was...improper. Wrong,” he added, shaking himself vigorously as if to rid himself of some terrible wrongdoing. “I shouldn't have touched you...Not that way,” he added lamely, running a distracted hand across his head in a gesture that spoke of tension.
Chrissie was still looking at him. She smiled. “Blaine,” she said softly. His name on her lips sent a jolt through him of almost-pain.
“What?”
“I'm glad we did.”
He stared. Blinked. Surely that wasn't what she really meant? What she really said? That she was glad they...
“Thank you,” he said, blushing to the roots of his hair. “Thanks.”
She laughed. “I don't think you have to thank me,” she said lightly. “Though I suppose it is good manners and I should thank you, too. Now, can we finish seeing the grounds?”
She stepped up beside him and laid a slight hand on his elbow, supporting herself as they walked. He looked down at her face, feeling bemused.
She was smiling serenely, her face a picture of peace and contentedness.
Shaking his head at himself, Blaine walked alongside her. Every time they jostled together as they walked a path, his heart missed a beat. He could feel the warmth of her body through the linen of her gown. He could see the light shining on threads of her curls.
“Chrissie,” he whispered, noticing his voice rasped and not caring.
“Yes?” she asked, looking up at him with wide eyes.
“I...” he paused. He had actually no idea of what he wanted to say. He just wanted to convey to her somehow the magnitude of how he felt right then. “Thank you,” he said again, feeling a little lame.
“Thank me?” she asked again. “What are you thanking me for, Blaine?”
He sighed, hearing her say his name again. He closed his eyes, feeling his heart throbbing as her cool hand held his elbow. Here they
were walking close as sweethearts, all alone in a garden that smelled of rosemary and other sweetly-scented herbs. He felt as if he had somehow just entered paradise.
“Thank you for...for this. For walking with me. For trusting me.”
She smiled. “I do trust you, Blaine. With my life.”
He closed his eyes. He couldn't quite believe she had just said that. His heart clenched and he thought he might shed a tear, which wouldn't have helped anything much. He blinked rapidly, looking at the clouds that scudded across the blue sky.
“You are very lovely, Chrissie,” he said quietly. “I love seeing you like this.”
She smiled up at him. “Thank you, Blaine,” she said softly. “I like it too.”
He closed his eyes. His wish had not only been granted, it had been exceeded. He said a quiet prayer and hoped his life could always be so lovely.
He did not know when he had felt so blessed.
CHAPTER NINE
HAPPY DISCOVERY
HAPPY DISCOVERY
“I can't believe it!”
Chrissie walked in the gardens alone, doing a little pirouette under the arbor when she was sure she was out of sight of the castle. She hummed a little tune to herself and looked up at the sky, its stark blue shining through the tracery of dark green leaves.
Blaine had walked with her. Kissed her. She sighed as she remembered that kiss, the memory of it touching her in a strange way, making her whole body tingle as if it were on fire. She giggled, remembering the delicious sensation of his lips nibbling hers.
“Blaine!” she whispered, loving simply hearing his name from her mouth.
She laughed at herself. How had this happened? She had always hated him! Well, maybe not always...
The more she thought about it, the more she realized she had never truly hated him. She had always loved him, in fact. Always felt...how she felt now. It was just so intense, so feverish, that it made her feel awkward and strange and offish around him. It was not that she hated him, but hated the intensity of how he made her feel.
“I love Blaine MacNeil,” she said, trying the statement. It sounded so good that it made her laugh again. Her chest felt as if sunshine radiated from it and all the world was lit with it. She was so happy.
“Chrissie?”
A voice, gravely calling her, broke her silent reverie. “Heath!” she jumped up suddenly. In her happy state she forgot all about Heath. She felt color rise to her cheeks in embarrassment. How could she have? Heath thought that...She buried her head in her hands. He thought she was in love with him! Now she knew it was not so. How was she supposed to tell him?
“Chrissie?” His voice sounded concerned. He stepped into the arbor and, seeing her on the bench under the willow trees, stopped. “Are you well? Can I help you?”
Chrissie looked up. Her face was red with shame, she could feel it, and she didn't want to meet his eye.
“Heath,” she said carefully. “No, I am well. If you would leave me here? I'll come up to the house soon.”
Heath didn't move. “Chrissie? I won't leave you like this. You're crying.”
Chrissie bit her lip, feeling angry with herself. She cuffed away tears and glared fixedly at a spot across from the arbor, willing herself to stop crying. “No,” she said resolutely. “I'm fine.”
“You know,” Heath sighed, coming to sit down beside her, “I wanted to talk to you. I've been worried about my future, and...and lots of things. I wanted to talk because I need to know what you think. Is it good if I do?”
“Very well,” Chrissie said tightly. He reached for her hand but she pulled away. She kept looking resolutely ahead, taking refuge in anger. He sighed.
“Chrissie, I have always loved you. You know that. From the moment I saw you. But...” He made a helpless gesture with his hands. “Oh, Heaven! I'm no good at this, am I? I wanted to tell you that...Chrissie. I want to become a knight. It's what I always wanted, since I was a boy. You know knights take holy orders, don't you? Chrissie? Are you still listening? I need your understanding. Your pardon.”
Chrissie turned to face him. Her blue eyes swam with tears, but they were happy ones. Tears of relief.
“Oh, Heath!” she exclaimed. She wrapped her arms around him and held him close, squeezing him to her breast like she would a child, or a brother. “That's such wonderful news! Oh, that makes me happy.”
Heath looked up at her. He stared. “Chrissie?” he asked gently, as if he was worried she might be becoming unhinged. “You did understand what I meant, didn't you? I will never marry.”
“Oh, yes! Heath. I do understand. I do! And that does make me happy. You see, I have always loved you. However, it is a different love. Like a brother. I can't explain but, oh! It's wonderful.”
Heath smiled at her, a bemused grin splitting his face. “I don't know if I do understand, Chrissie,” he said softly. “But this is good news. Thank you. Oh, thank you.”
He kissed her then, and the kiss was gentle, chaste and loving. He looked as if he was trying not to cry himself. His lips leaned against hers, each taking strength from their closeness, yet making no demands. Wanting no more but to be near, to feel love, and to share friendship.
“Heath,” she said softly, when their kiss was broken. “I am so, so pleased that you have told me this. It makes me so happy. You will be a wonderful knight. I know you will.”
Heath looked at her a little uncertainly. His handsome face lit with a gentle grin. “You really think so?”
“I know so!” Chrissie beamed. She squeezed his hand. “Oh, Heath! That is the best news ever. I am so happy for you. For both of us. This will mean so many exciting things! Are you going to travel?”
“I don't really know yet,” Heath said slowly. “I will go with Uncle Seamus. He is a knight in St. James' order. We will travel to Edinburgh and from there? Who knows?” he gave a sigh, dark eyes seeing visions of his future.
“You will go all over the world and see wonderful things and, some day, you will come here and bring me special presents,” Chrissie said decidedly.
He laughed, eyes sparkling. “I take that as an order. The first of my office.”
They sat for a moment, thinking about the future. The silence stretched, filled only with the sound of bees in the last flowers of lavender. Chrissie cleared her throat, wanting to break the gulf between them.
“Good!” she said. “And by the way, speaking of presents, I like jewelry.”
He laughed. “Consider it done. Any preferences?”
She tilted her head on one side, pretending to contemplate the suggestion. “Well, pearls are my favorite, so anything with those would be the best gift.”
He chuckled and gave her a playful nudge. “I shall do my best.”
The joyful aspect of their conversation settled and they both contemplated the less pleasant side of things. He would go far – all the way to the Levant, probably, where there was still much unrest – and he would face combat and, possibly, war, and many perils. She would stay here, and likely marry and...who knew? All she could know at that moment was that they loved each other deeply and there would not be a time when she would not sometimes think of him and wonder where he was or how he fared. Nevertheless, they would not have to marry. They were both free to love, to explore, and to come back and share their journeys with each other, whenever they could meet.
“You will leave soon?” she asked in a small voice.
“Next month,” Heath said shortly. “I am waiting for my uncle to come back from the capital, and then we will go together. First Edinburgh, and then to the coast and Rome, where I will be ordained and join the Hospital of St. James. I cannot quite believe it.”
Chrissie sighed, her eyes wide. She had no idea of what it might be like to travel like that. She herself had never been much further than Dunkeld. To go so far across the sea was inconceivable. She looked into his eyes searchingly. “You will take care of yourself? Don't do any foolish things?”
Heath threw back hi
s head with easy laughter. “Oh, Chrissie,” he said fondly. “I promise I will try not to. Thank you. Thank you for caring so much.”
Chrissie sighed. She looked at him carefully, drinking in every aspect of his face from his soft eyes to his straight nose and fine chin with its slight cleft. He looks like a knight. He was gallant, gentlemanly, respectful, handsome...everything she imagined a knight was meant to be. Sir Gawain from the stories. She kissed him on the cheek.
“Oh, Heath,” Chrissie said in a small voice, resting her head on his shoulder, “I love you. I really, really do. I always will. And I am so happy for you.”
He kissed her cheek and his hand held hers.
They sat there for a long moment before he stood and went inside and she stayed there, looking out over the sward and thinking about her future – a future in which she was free to love.
Whenever she thought of that, her thoughts strayed irrevocably to Blaine. She wondered what he was doing now.
CHAPTER TEN
PLANS ARE MADE
PLANS ARE MADE
Blaine sat in his bedchamber, weary after practice at the quintain. However, it was not that which tormented him. The taste of that kiss occupied every aspect of his thoughts. In the practice yard, in the hall, in his chamber, it followed him everywhere, making him thirst for Chrissie. He ached for her presence, longed to hold her and kiss her, and more besides.
His body shivered and he tried, valiantly, to erase the thoughts that came to him then. Of Chrissie naked, her soft hair loose on her shoulders, her breasts like small globes, tipped with rose-red, her body soft, curved, and smooth as porcelain. It was all speculation, since he had never seen her naked, of course. However, he was sure she was stunning beneath those clothes. His groin ached and he groaned, clenching his fists, and then collapsed onto his bed.
“Chrissie Connolly!” he shouted at the ceiling. “You torment me.”
He smiled. He knew he was hard with longing, and had been for some time – every time he recalled that walk, he felt his loins fill with blood, his body stiff, and waiting to find release with her.
The Highland Hero (Lairds of Dunkeld Series) (A Medieval Scottish Romance Story) Page 7
