“No.” Possessively, he held her.
“Please, Lennox, don’t look at me.” Wriggling her shoulders she attempted to break free.
Lennox gritted his teeth and forced her flat to the ground, rolling her onto her side so that he could properly examine her back.
Chloris whimpered and covered her face with her hands, but he had to know.
With one hand he held her in place, with the other he pulled her laces completely undone. The fabric eased apart and he tugged down her shift to expose her skin fully as far as the top of her corset, disclosing a tracery of raised welts.
Lennox swallowed down the shock he felt. She’d hidden herself very cleverly all through their time together. He realized that now. Hiding her shame, keeping the secret. Tracing the scars with his fingers he attempted to hold back his anger when he felt pain there. It was as if he’d been thrashed, not her. It pumped into his fingertips, and it was not just this beating, but more. The anger he felt in response to the images that flared in his mind would not be kept in check—images of Chloris, and images from his childhood, pictures of his mother being stoned.
Chloris flinched at his touch on the raised skin.
That made his anger worsen. Forcing back the images of his own mother, lying on the ground stoned and bloody, frustration bit into him, his ire rising all the while. He voiced his opinion. “You wish to fall pregnant to a man who does this you?”
Her head lifted and she stared over her shoulder at him, dismayed.
“Answer me!” His indignation was making him unreasonable. He could see that fact reflected in her eyes, but he couldn’t help being angry.
“It will not happen again,” she snapped, “if I fall pregnant.”
Lennox cursed aloud. “If you believe that then you are a fool.”
Chloris recoiled in astonishment. It was she who looked angry now, the shame that had marked her expression quickly changing as she pulled her clothing into place, covering the scars she had so cleverly concealed during their relationship. “What do you know of me and my situation?”
Lennox felt that old anger and frustration, that which was born of powerlessness, the mood that turned into white heat in his veins. He saw the men who stoned his mother almost to her last breath, then hauled her bloodied body upright so that she could take the final steps to the gallows where she would be hanged and burned. He’d cursed them all, until they bound and gagged him, but he had never forgotten the looks on their faces. Their fear twisted into glee, that ugly thing that turned them to animals. It disgusted him. “A man who does that to a woman will never change. There will be another cause for him to beat you, another day.”
Fear flitted through her eyes as she considered his words, but she shook her head. “No, it is his anger at my barren state that is at the root of his black moods.”
He resisted the urge to growl. She was too trusting, and he knew that too well for he had preyed on it, too. Annoyed at himself for forcing her to consider what was likely the truth of the situation, he reached out for her, moving to comfort her. The urge to remove her from her current situation was growing larger by the minute and he could scarcely trust himself, so unruly was his desire for her. It was in that moment that he knew with certainty that she was his destined lover, and the realization that he was irrevocably bound to Chloris shocked him to the marrow.
But she was rising to her feet and backing away. “If you have done what I paid you to do, then it will end.” Tears shone in her eyes, and she trembled. “Your ritual, it had better work.”
Lennox’s thoughts were in chaos as he realized just how desperate she was. This was why she had come to him. He’d thought it her own desire for a child, but it was fear of her own husband that had put her in this position—fear that had forced her to be brave and venture to Somerled—and that was not right. He could not allow her to go back there. Rising to his feet he went after her. “It will, but my magic will not protect you if you go back to Edinburgh.”
Striding over, he attempted to hold her. More than ever, he wanted to claim this woman as his own. He could not bear to think of her sacrificing herself to a man who would do that to her.
Chloris tore her arm from his grip. “You have said enough. You have shamed me, and now you have put me in fear of my situation in Edinburgh. Yet you are no saint, for you are a seducer of many women.” She glared at him. “I know that I’m not the only one, for I am not the fool that you apparently think I am. This has been a pretty diversion for you. I know that you wanted more than your fee in return for your magic, and you took it.”
Lennox reeled. Her words hit him harder than he could have imagined. “Chloris—”
“No, you will not charm me with your magic or your clever ways now.” She held his gaze. “I just pray that you are as good a witch as you are a seducer.” With that final remark, she lifted her skirts and ran through the trees, back to her mount.
Turning away, Lennox gripped a low hanging bough, forcing himself to stay there, not to go after her in anger. He was no longer in control of himself in thought or deed. Closing his eyes, he drew strength from the old oak, from the rising sap and the fertile ground beneath his feet—the things he was sure of, the tenets of nature that he clung to in faith when he felt madness beginning to descend on him.
A single shard of clarity shot through the chaos that reigned in him. He would not, could not, let her go back to Edinburgh. Even if she refused his protection, Lennox knew he had to make her see and understand that.
And as much as Lennox hated Tamhas Keavey, he suspected she was safer there under her cousin’s roof.
Somehow, that only made his bitterness grow.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Chloris’s mood was so inflamed that she ran through the forest to her horse as fast as her feet would carry her, not caring if her gown ripped when it caught on the brambles or whether her boots and stockings became stained with mud. When she mounted she urged her horse to a gallop, her blood pumping, regret filling her.
Why had she allowed herself to drift into this situation with him? It was a risk in every respect and yet she had ignored the voice in her mind that had warned her. The answer was of course a simple one. Lennox had seduced her, thoroughly, and because her passion for him had grown beyond bounds she could not resist. Foolish woman, she chastised herself, and rode without concern for safety, covering the ground fast.
When she saw Torquil House on the horizon, however, she drew up and turned her mount away. Instead she rode in the direction of Saint Andrews.
It was not a conscious decision, but as she battled with her inner turmoil she soon found herself on the familiar streets where she had spent her childhood years. It was the need to address her substance, to feel that she belonged somewhere—even if that time had come and gone—that guided her from the depth of her emotional chaos.
Chloris had never wanted to see the place again, before now. However, she’d begun to exist only in respect of Lennox and that bond had shattered so suddenly that she sought some other anchor. That was how she found herself in front of the tall town house where she had been born, and where her parents had lived and died.
Chloris dropped down from her saddle and stared at the familiar building. She had not been on this street since she went to Edinburgh to marry Gavin, and she had not stepped inside the house since Tamhas had taken her to his home as his ward. She took a deep breath and told herself she was strong enough to do this, to face the past, in order to ready herself for the future.
Calling out to two passing lads, Chloris offered them the reward of a coin each if they stood with her mount for a few minutes. They gladly obliged, taking off their hats and petting the animal while she went to the door.
“The master and mistress are not at home,” the serving girl said when she opened the door and saw Chloris standing there.
“It is not your employers I wish to see. I used to live in this house many years ago,” she explained, wishing that her voice did not waver
so. “Is anyone at home other than yourself?”
The girl shook her head. She was a timid girl.
“I will only ask for a small amount of your time. If you will allow me to visit the old nursery I would be most grateful.”
She chewed at her lower lip for several moments before she replied. “I should not, mistress.”
Chloris opened her hand, revealing the coins she offered in return for the favor.
The girl’s eyes lit.
“I promise it will not take long. It is just to preserve my memories, you see.”
After a prolonged ponder the girl’s decision was made and she ushered Chloris inside. “Just the old nursery, you say?” She closed the front door quickly and gestured to the stairs. “That would be the long room at the back of the house overlooking the garden?”
“You understand me well, that is the very one.” Chloris pressed the coins into the servant’s hand. The girl curtsied and then led the way quickly up the stairs.
Chloris glanced about as she followed, noting the changes that had been made, and the things that were the same as she remembered. As they closed on the door to the old nursery, she steeled herself. There would be sad memories, but happy ones, too.
The serving girl opened the door, then stood by.
“Thank you.” Chloris took a deep breath. It was time for her to accept her lot in life and not chase fancy dreams, nor allow herself to grow fond of a man who she should not have allowed into her life in the first place.
The room was more sparsely furnished than it had been the last time she had been in it, the work bench and chairs she had known gone, and in their place a fancy armoire and several storage trunks. “The mistress of the house has no children?”
“Oh, yes, but they are long since grown and married. This room is not used at all now.”
Chloris nodded and then stepped farther into the room, her feet tracing the familiar path to the fireplace where every morning she’d sat at her mother’s side. Together they would read and study and Chloris had grown from a child to a young woman here. Eithne was her companion in the afternoons, and while they worked on their sewing—Eithne busy with the household repairs, Chloris on her embroidery—Eithne would talk about the clans in the north and how they lived very different lives to the Lowlanders. Eithne would sometimes tell her fairy tales as well, stories of the strange and magical creatures who lived in the sea and the mountains.
So it was that her mother had made her an educated young lady who felt safe and loved, and Eithne had made her believe that magic was all around. They had been golden days, until the illness came and took her parents, and Chloris had found her world broken apart.
She ran her fingers along the stone mantel, but there was no fire in the grate.
There had been no fire in the grate the last time she’d stood here. It had not been laid because it was the day of the funeral and she should have been walking alongside the cart that carried her parents’ coffins to the Kirk.
Eithne had understood, even though she said it was wrong. “You must do this, child. I know you do not want to say goodbye to them, but you must.”
Chloris had clung to her, weeping. “I cannot.”
“You must hold your head up, whatever comes your way in this life.”
Eithne was upset, and Chloris remembered her trembling even as the buxom woman embraced and comforted her. Looking back on it, it occurred to Chloris that Eithne had probably been warned that Tamhas Keavey would not welcome her amongst his servants, and Eithne was doing her best to encourage Chloris on a safe, respectable path.
“Come now,” she had said, “they are waiting for you to go down, it is time.”
“I cannot, I do not want to live. I should be with them.”
Eithne kissed her forehead, and Chloris remembered the sense of calm she had bestowed upon her then. Like magic.
“There is happiness ahead for you, my girl, dark days, too, but you will always carry your loved ones inside you, and even when you cannot hold them they will be in here—” she put her hand to her heart “—and that will help you through. Look to the future, to those days when the sun will shine in your heart.”
Chloris blinked. That’s how it had felt, when she was with Lennox. Like the sun was shining in her heart. From the moment he had unlatched the pearl choker from around her neck, he’d begun to free her of the deepest grief she carried and replace those emotions with something fonder, something happier. Memories to be cherished instead of grieved over.
Unfettered, is what he’d called it. And now she’d been brave enough to come back here and face her history. Had Eithne the gift of future sight? Would the brief happiness she’d known with Lennox over these past weeks stay with her always, even though it was over now?
Yes, it would. Just as the love she had for her family was locked in her heart and her memory. For a moment she felt Eithne’s warm embrace—like a promise.
Then it was gone.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Somehow Chloris made it through the rest of the day. The memory of Eithne stayed with her, warming her. She even managed to be convivial during dinner. Once she was alone in her chamber—and after the servant turned down her bed covers and retired for the night—her emotions grew tangled again. It was because she had lain here with Lennox. His presence still lingered, it always did. She looked about the room, the one she’d always had at Torquil House. The familiar damask curtains and the solid wooden furniture were anchors in her turmoil, but it was him she ached for.
Then, as she undressed and reached for her nightgown, she was reminded of Lennox’s horror when he thought that she was a weak woman, despised by her husband. It was to be expected, she concluded. The women of Saint Andrews that Lennox consorted with were no doubt much stronger than she. They would keep their husbands happy and seek a secret affair bravely. Or they were witches, strong women who upheld their beliefs when all around people feared and condemned them. Nevertheless, she’d had a true taste of passion, happiness and forbidden love. There was no love in her marriage, and to partake of it outside of her marriage was a sin.
Yet these had been the happiest moments of her life.
It was over now. She sat on the edge of her bed in her nightgown and considered the fact that she might never see Lennox again. The ache in her chest was so great that when she lay down she thought she would die of it.
She buried her face in her pillow, her thoughts running back and forth over what had been said and why it had troubled her so.
“Chloris?”
It was a whisper so quiet, so gently inquiring, that she thought she’d imagined it at first. Rolling onto her side she peered into the gloom. The door clicked shut.
Lennox stood there in the shadows by the door, just as he had that first night.
It wasn’t the same as before, though. Strangely enough, this time it felt almost natural that he had come to her, and when he stepped past the fireplace and the light from the embers caught his expression, it was a very different man that she saw before her. Troubled, just as she was, if not more so. The knot in her chest unraveled, threatening to unleash a barrage of tears.
“Lennox.” As she rose to face him she battled the urge to run into his arms.
Before she could leave the bedside he closed the gap between them in fast strides and dropped to his knees before her. Grasping one of her hands, he drew it to his lips and kissed her palm. “Forgive me, I had to see you.”
Chloris stared down at his now familiar head and stroked his hair distractedly. The way he approached—the yearning she felt—all of it threatened her unsteady emotions. “You shouldn’t have risked coming here again. You should never have risked it.”
He looked up at her, eyes glittering in the candlelight. “The only thing I shouldn’t have done was be angry. I am in no position to judge. Can you forgive me?”
Chloris inhaled slowly. “There is nothing to forgive, your reaction was understandable.”
“Understand
able?” He looked dismayed. Rising to his feet, he held her gently by the shoulders. She noticed that his hair was tousled, his shirt neck open. “That is why you hid yourself from me, isn’t it, because you expect people to be upset by the sight of it?”
She nodded.
“No, Chloris. I was upset because I felt it, just as you had, when I touched you.”
“No.” Could it be true?
He nodded, then leaned into her, kissing her forehead gently. His voice grew quieter still. “Our connection is deep.”
Why did that make her ache so? Words were so easy for him. Seduction was his way of life. To hear such a thing and wonder if it was true tortured her.
“I could not bear to witness the images of him doing that to you,” he added.
She closed her eyes. “I’m sorry. It was wrong of me to involve you in my...situation. I tried to keep it to myself. Our time together was so precious to me that I indulged. I let it last longer than it should have.”
His mood changed instantly. Grasping her shoulders more tightly he looked into her eyes. “Don’t say that. We both wanted it, every moment of it.”
The knot in her chest tightened again.
“You have changed me, my precious lover.” He cupped her face in his hands. “The time we spent together has made me crave more. I want you, Chloris. I want all of you, forever.”
Her lips parted and she went to respond, to deny him, but his mouth covered hers in a possessive kiss, claiming her completely. Her body pulsed with need. She acted on instinct, her hands moving up around his head, her fingers tangling in his thick hair. With her emotions so raw, she could only welcome him, running her tongue along the underside of his. There was no doubt their desire was mutual. She wanted him, too.
His words made her realize that everything she felt was too much, too dangerous. It was the tears that made it impossible to deny him though, the nature of what had passed between them in anger and regret only making her want him all the more.
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