She needed him to love her, to take away her worry, if only for a few hours, and allow her some peace.
She turned to him with a smile she tried hard to maintain.
He reached out and took hold of her waist. “I’m going to love you.”
“It’s for me to finish what I started,” she said.
“Not now,” he said with a shake of his head. “Now is for me to show you how much I love you.”
Her dark eyes turned wide, and her mouth dropped open as if she intended to speak, but no words spilled forth.
He took advantage and kissed her, his tongue darting in to lovingly tease hers. She melted against him, and he felt, then, her first teardrop. He didn’t stop kissing her even when he felt her tears against his cheek. She needed this kiss from him; she needed it to linger, to sustain her.
And he didn’t fail her. He kissed her with an intensity that was meant to drive her pain away. When her tears wouldn’t stop, he raised her just enough to walk her to the bed. Once there, he striped himself while continuing their kiss; and then he striped her, stopping only long enough to rid her of her clothes.
He lowered her to the bed, covering her with the length of him and knowing instinctively that she was as ready for him as he was for her; he nudged her legs apart and slipped between them.
She welcomed his quick, deep entrance, tossing her head back with a sharp yelp and a breathless sigh that fired his already burning need. Soon they were lost in the fury of the lovemaking. It knew no sense or reason and needed none. It was just the two of them, lost not just in depths of passion but in the depths of love.
Tears lingered on her cheeks after their fiery climax, but none spilled. He kissed the few away and rolled off her, quickly cuddling her close against him. With a teasing laugh, he asked, “Was my lovemaking that disappointing?”
She smiled and looked up at him. “My tears were ones of joy.”
“I was that good, was I?”
She gave him a playful poke. “I cried because I was overwhelmed with joy hearing that you love me.”
“My heart would not allow me to restrain the words any longer.”
“Then you are ready to give your heart to me?”
“Give my heart to you?” he laughed. “You stole it from me shortly after I discovered you were a woman.”
“Then I shall keep it safe forever and ever.”
He kissed her. “Make sure that you do, for it belongs only to you.”
A single tear trickled down her cheek as they kissed again.
They spent the rest of the day in Bryce’s bedchamber, talking, eating, teasing, and making love. He refused to allow anyone to disturb them, even chasing his mum away when she insisted an important matter needed to be discussed.
He had asked if it was a life-or-death matter, and when she admitted it wasn’t, he told her he would speak with her tomorrow.
Charlotte worried that Mara would blame her for Bryce’s not seeing to his duties, and while she certainly didn’t want to be a deterrent, she wanted this time alone with Bryce. He might have admitted his love for her, and she had been more than open about her love for him, but that didn’t mean that their future was sealed. They still both needed to attend to their missions. And though Bryce would attempt to leave her behind in the safety of his home when he went in search of her da, she had other plans.
Not one to sit and stitch or do womanly things, though she was not averse to them, she planned to get an early start on the morrow and once again attempt to find Old John. He could tell her where her da was, and she intended to see that he did just that.
And though it would be nice to have Bryce with her, he had his duties to attend to, and she was certain Mara would see that he did. Besides, she needed Bryce to understand that she could not wait around for him to tend to her problems. She was used to tending to her own though it was good that he cared and would always be there to help her.
Tired from a night of endless lovemaking, she forced herself out of bed just before dawn, hoping to sneak out of the keep and be on her way when the sun peeked on the horizon. She also didn’t want to run into Mara. While she knew the woman would no doubt have something to say to her, and she herself intended to learn more about Bryce’s mum, today was not that day.
She hurried quietly into the garments Neil had lent her, thinking she truly had to see about stitching her own. She and Odin slipped out the door and down to the great hall, planning on heading through the kitchen to swipe some food for their day’s trek.
She was surprised and a bit disappointed to find Mara there alone.
“You shouldn’t be going off on your own,” Mara scolded as she kneaded a mound of dough.
“How do you know I am?”
“It is what I would do.”
“We are more alike than you care to admit?”
Mara didn’t answer. Instead, she said, “You should be more concerned about Bryce than chasing after this man in hopes of finding your da. He will worry when he discovers you gone and go after you instead of seeing to his own duty.”
“Until he realizes that chasing after me will serve no purpose and let me do what I must.” Charlotte quickly changed the subject with her next question. “Why do you keep the truth from Bryce about his mum?”
“When the time is right—”
“And who are you to judge that?” Charlotte asked with more curiosity than malice.
“It is for the best.”
“Is it, or is it that your secret has grown far heavier than you had expected it to?”
Mara’s stunned reaction proved that her assumption was correct, and suddenly Charlotte felt for the woman.
“Some burdens are easier when shared,” Charlotte said. “If ever you wish to ease that burden, I don’t mind carrying some of it for you.”
Mara raised her chin, tears pooled in her eyes, and she battered the dough on the table.
“No one will eat that bread the way you pummel it,” Charlotte said.
“No one will eat it anyway.” Mara sighed. “Try as I might, I can cook nothing eatable. And I know my husband and sons fear each time I try.”
Charlotte walked to the door, let an anxious Odin out, then returned to Mara, pushing up the sleeves of her shirt. “Before I go, let me show you the secret to making tasty bread.”
Mara was just finishing stuffing a sack full of far too much food for Charlotte and Odin to take when Tara entered the kitchen.
“You’re off again on your own, aren’t you?” Tara asked Charlotte while pointing to the sack. And before Charlotte could respond, Tara asked, “Can I come with you?”
Again, Charlotte had no time to respond.
“Once I spent much time on my own, and I so enjoyed my walks in the woods. It would be nice to do that again though with someone, having spent more than my share of time alone.”
Mara was the one to answer. “It is a good idea for Tara to go with you. Bryce would then know you are not alone. There is a shirt and tunic in my sewing room that you can use, and there should be a pair of boots here somewhere that should fit.”
Tara grinned. “I’ll be only a second.” And she sped out of the room.
“What of Reeve?” Charlotte asked.
Mara grinned. “It will do him good to know that the world won’t crumble around him if his wife is not here safe beside him.”
Charlotte smiled and pointed to the first loaf of bread that had just finished baking. “Let me take some of that with me. The delicious scent will surely be good bait.”
“But once he tastes it—” Mara shook her head.
Charlotte grinned and broke a piece off then split it in two popping one in her mouth and handing the other to Mara.
The woman hesitantly put it to her lips, then did as Charlotte and popped it into her mouth. “That’s delicious,” she said, astonished.
“It’s all a matter of kneading and coating the bread with the mixture of herbs that I showed you.”
“No one will b
elieve I made this bread,” Mara said, as if she didn’t believe it herself.
“Don’t tell anyone until after they have eaten it,” Charlotte advised.
“Don’t tell anyone what?” Tara asked returning.
Charlotte handed her a piece of the bread.
“That’s delicious,” Tara said, and reached for more. “Bryce will be pleased that his woman is such a good cook.”
“Mara made the bread,” Charlotte said.
Tara almost choked. “Truly.”
Mara beamed with pride.
“Don’t dare tell anyone,” Tara insisted. “Not until I’m here and can see their faces. Promise?”
Mara nodded.
“Oh, I can’t wait for this,” Tara said, and gave Mara a quick kiss on the cheek. “I never thought I would say this, but that was delicious bread you made, Mara.”
The two women left a happy Mara busily making more bread.
Chapter 33
Bryce woke with a stretch and reached out to wrap himself around Charlotte, only to find her gone. He groaned and shook his head. He should have known she wouldn’t wait. No doubt she was already on her way to try to find Old John.
He stretched himself out of bed and quickly got into his clothes. He couldn’t keep chasing after her. He had his duties to see to, and he wondered if perhaps that was what she intended her early-morning absence to show him.
Should he let her be? She did well in speaking with people and discovering information, so perhaps she would do what others couldn’t—get Old John to talk.
He pondered the situation as he hurried down to the great hall, eager to eat.
“What do you mean she went off with Charlotte?” Reeve yelled at his mum.
Duncan and Mercy shook their heads, and so did Bryce as he joined them at the table.
“And what are you doing sitting?” Reeve demanded. “We have our women to find.”
“Your women are not lost,” Mara said. “They took a walk and will return later.”
“A walk?” Reeve shouted again, and turned, smacking Bryce in the shoulder. “Your woman dragged my wife off to find that madman.”
“Actually, Tara asked if she could join Charlotte,” Mara said, filling a tankard with cider and handing it to Bryce.
“Don’t worry,” Bryce said. “Charlotte won’t let anything happen to Tara.”
“You’re not going after her?” Reeve asked, stunned.
“Not this time,” Bryce confessed. “She needs to do this for herself.”
Mara smiled and nodded as she passed around a chunk of bread.
“This is tasty,” Duncan said, munching on it, and Mercy agreed with a nod, her mouth full.
“Etty should make this more often,” Bryce said, agreeing with the others.
Reeve swiped a piece and gave his nod of approval.
Bryce placed a hand on Reeve’s shoulder when he finally sank down on the bench next to him. “I do want to run after Charlotte and throttle her for taking off on her own, but I realize that isn’t what she needs. As I said, she needs to do this for herself, and perhaps Tara does too.”
“If I wasn’t so large with child, I would have joined them,” Mercy said, disappointed.
Duncan turned to his wife. “You most certainly would no—”
“Don’t dare say it,” Mercy warned. “If I could trek months through the woods shackled to you, I think I am capable of walking the woods with two women, one who seems quite able of protecting all three of us.”
Bryce grinned. “That’s my wife—” He sat, stunned that he had acknowledged Charlotte as his wife, and yet it seemed the most naturally thing to do. And only hoped the future would allow it.
“Well, of course Charlotte will be your wife,” Mercy said. “Any fool can see that you both love each other.”
Carmag entered the hall, preventing any further discussion. His expression was grim, and he told his sons that he needed to talk with them. They immediately stood and followed him to the solar.
As soon as Carmag shut the door behind them, he said, “A friend of Neil’s arrived before dawn this morning. He has news of the supposed spy we’ve been concerned with.”
“Is this fellow reliable?” Reeve asked.
Carmag walked over in front of the fireplace where his sons had gathered. “After meeting with him, I would say more than reliable, and he’s asked to remain with us. He’s brought his wife and three children with him. He says that the king is in a rage over the spy he discovered in his court. And that he plans on finding out just what information the person has passed on to the true king, and there is also talk that this person knows the true king’s identity.”
“How is that possible?” Duncan asked. “The only ones who know his identity are mum and those in this room.”
Bryce shook his head. “That might not be true.”
They all turned wide eyes on him.
“Charlotte told me that her da had met the true king.” He held up his hand to prevent any questions before he finished explaining. “I don’t know the circumstances or even if it is true, or whether her da just got the notion in his head that a man he met was the true king.”
“There is also Bliss, the Pict woman who helped heal Trey,” Duncan reminded. “With her ability to see the future, she all but told us that day here in the solar that she knew who the true king was.”
“She has returned home, and, besides, she would not have been received well by the king, being a Pict,” Reeve said. “And hasn’t this spy been in the king’s court for some time?”
“Several months,” Carmag answered. “The problem is: since we don’t know exactly what this person knows, we don’t know what danger it could mean for the true king.”
“Which means we need to rescue this fellow and find out for ourselves,” Bryce said.
The others nodded their agreement.
“Does Neil’s friend know where the spy is being held?” Reeve asked.
“A secret prison,” Carmag said, “and the mention of it caused him to shiver. It seems that those knowledgeable about the place fear it.”
“We need Old John to tell us about that prison,” Bryce said.
Charlotte sat on the ground along with Tara, enjoying the food Mara had packed for them. She had unwrapped the bread and set it on a nearby rock, the scent wafting into the air. She had to ply Odin with extra food so he would not try to devour the tempting loaf.
“You think it will tempt him?” Tara whispered.
“A man living on only what he hunts will certainly follow the delicious scent,” Charlotte said, keeping her voice low.
“I’m glad I came with you,” Tara said, no longer in a whisper. “I forgot how refreshing a good walk could be.”
“It is refreshing,” Charlotte agreed with a raised voice, hoping to attract John’s attention.
“Why do you torment me,” Old John called from the woods. “I told you to leave me alone.”
“I don’t mean to torment,” Charlotte said. “And I can’t leave you alone. I need answers that only you have.”
“Answers that will do you no good,” he said.
“Let me decide that,” she said. “Now please come join us and share in our food.”
“It is best I remain separate from others,” Old John said. “But if you could leave some food, it would be appreciated.”
“Isn’t it time you gave up your solitary life?” Charlotte said. “And start living again.”
“You don’t know what you ask,” he said.
“Then tell us,” Tara said.
“You won’t want to hear it.”
“I’ve heard much heartache lately,” Charlotte offered. “Just recently an old man stumbled out of the woods and into my care, having escaped the soldiers. He thought death his only choice, his son having been taken by the soldiers because of his ability to forge a fine sword and his granddaughter rushing off in search of her da, much like me.”
“What? What is that you say?” And with tha
t, Old John stepped out of the woods and approached them.
He was not bowed or slowed by age. This man had a proud posture and a fine step. Though gray filled his hair, he did not appear as aged as when Charlotte had first seen him.
“This man you speak of, do you know his name?” John asked.
“Donald,” Charlotte said.
John stumbled as if struck and quickly lowered himself to the ground, his hands trembling. “Donald is my da.”
Charlotte had never expected that, and neither had Tara; both their eyes turned wide, and their hearts went out to him.
“Your da survived an attack just yesterday on the group he traveled with. He is fine, and no doubt would love to know that his son is alive and well.”
“My daughter,” John said with a tear in his eye. “I must find my daughter.”
“We could help,” Tara offered.
Charlotte agreed with a nod. “Come with us. Talk with your da and talk with our men. There must be something we can do to help you find your daughter.”
“I stayed away to protect them. I knew they would search for me, and I didn’t want the soldiers harming my family,” he said, shaking his head. “But my efforts made no difference, they still suffered.”
Charlotte reached out and placed a comforting hand on John’s arm. “It’s time for the suffering to end. Your da will be happy to see you, to know not all is lost.”
“But my daughter . . .” John shook his head, and a tear fell from his eye.
“Help me get to my da, and I will help you find your daughter,” Charlotte said, giving his arm a squeeze. “I know how you feel, and I will do all I can to help you.”
John wiped away another tear and nodded. “I will help you, and I look forward to seeing my da again.”
By late afternoon, Bryce began to worry, though not as much as Reeve, who wore a path in the dirt in front of the keep.
“Why haven’t they returned yet?” Reeve asked, as Bryce joined him.
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