Healing the Highlander

by Melissa Mayhue

  Ellie wanted Drew to put her to bed so she could get some rest? Giggles overtook Leah again at the prospect. Ellie sure didn’t know Drew very well. “Rest” didn’t seem to be something she and Drew were capable of when they were alone. Not anymore. Not since they’d discovered other things to do in bed.

  “Or in storerooms,” she managed to say aloud between fits of giggling.

  “Oh, honey, you’re going to feel like poop tomorrow. Lucky for you, Rosalyn has the most wonderful herbal concoction to take away the better part of what’s going to ail you. Trust me, I should know.”

  “Herb con . . . cocks.” It was as far as she could get without dissolving in giggles.

  Her mother had always told her the Fates had a wicked sense of humor. Judging by her life recently, wicked had to mean obsessed with penis humor.

  First it was a Dick who’d been the reason she’d left MacQuarrie Keep. Then she’d bumped into a Peter, the knight who plagued her life.

  “Now herbs with cocks,” she managed to say aloud as she fought to catch her breath from all the giggling.

  How eighth grade. Penis humor. The Fates had bombarded her with one annoying penis after another.

  In fairness, not all annoying. One particular penis had been about as far from annoying as you could get.

  “And there it is!” she squealed, overcome with giggles yet again as Drew approached.

  “What have you done to her?” he demanded, taking her from Ellie’s care into his own. “What’s happened to you?”

  “Wicked, wicked Fates,” she gasped, muffling her words into his shoulder as she leaned against him. Oh, her stomach hurt from laughing so hard.

  “It’s the honey ale, Drew. You should have warned her or at least told the servers to back off,” Ellie answered, sounding as if she fought laughter herself. “I’ll bring up your mother’s herbs in a bit. If you put the tea on for her first thing in the morning, she’ll be just fine.”

  How lovely! She’d have Drew tonight followed by tea in the morning.

  “Cock tea,” she giggled into his shoulder, completely unable to stop herself.

  Wicked, wicked Fates.

  He’d finally had no choice but to pick up Leah and carry her to their room.

  “Thank the Fates you’ve at last come to yerself again.” He’d begun to wonder if she’d giggle all night. But, finally, by the time Ellie delivered the little pot of herbs, Leah had managed to get herself back in control.

  “Wicked, wicked Fates,” she said for perhaps the tenth time from her seat in the middle of their bed.

  To his relief, laughter no longer accompanied the words that had set her off on a new round of hysteria each time she’d said them before.

  Though in truth, he wasn’t yet convinced that this new solemnity wasn’t every bit as concerning as the laughter had been.

  “Under the covers with you, dearling. You should get yerself some sleep to ward off the effects of the drink.”

  “Can’t,” she argued, pointing a hand over her shoulder. “Buttons.”

  Damnation. It was Ellie’s gown she wore. Whatever had possessed his sister-in-law to insist on a line of tiny, hand-carved buttons running the back of the dress to fasten it closed was beyond all understanding. But insist she had. He remembered well the consternation it had caused the old man who’d carved them, his big fingers fumbling to make sure he pleased Caden’s intended.

  Women.

  A simple set of laces would have closed the frothy gown just as well and been a sight more practical.

  “Turn around, then.”

  She scurried from the center of the bed, perching at last on the edge, her hair pulled over her shoulder to expose the dratted buttons. His fingers felt overly large and clumsy as he fumbled to push the wood carvings through the tiny stitched holes. If this weren’t Ellie’s dress, he’d be tempted to rip the thing apart and toss it into the pit.

  As it was, he had a healthy respect for his sister-in-law’s temper. Too healthy to risk damage to her dress.

  So he continued to fumble, growing more frustrated by the second.

  The growing expanse of bare skin that greeted his success was no help, either. If anything, the more the dress opened, the harder it became for him to concentrate on the tedious work.

  “That’s enough,” he announced, rising to his feet. “You can pull it off over yer head now.” He hadn’t intended his words to sound so gruff, but there was no help to be had for it. A man could only take so much.

  With a crooked smile lifting one side of her mouth, she raised her arms above her head. “You take it off for me.”

  He shook his head and stepped back a pace. No matter what had passed between them before, he wouldn’t be accused of taking advantage of a woman who was in her cups. Not even his wife.

  “No? You won’t even come over here and sit with me?”

  The smile on her face grew as she slipped the gown off first one arm and then the other. Pushing the material to her waist, she leaned forward, one finger feathering suggestively over her exposed breast.

  “What about now?”

  The palms of his hands itched to cover the ripe beauties displayed for him. Again he shook his head in refusal, turning his back to reinforce his will. If he couldn’t see what she offered . . .

  “Go to sleep,” he ordered, his voice raspy as the need took him.

  Behind him, her feet hit the floor, a quiet shuffling splat against the stone. A rustle of cloth followed a moment later by a curtain of yellow froth floating down over his head.

  “What in the name of all that’s . . .”

  His plaid lifted and her hand, warm and gentle, stroked up his inner thigh and trailed around his hip, freezing the words in his mouth, cutting off even the workings of his brain which commanded the ability to speak.

  Something akin to a gurgle was the only sound he had power to make as she seemed to float in front of him and her fingers wrapped around the base of his shaft.

  “What about now,” she whispered, stretching up on her tiptoes to run her tongue across his bottom lip.

  She stood before him, wearing nothing but the stone hanging at her neck and a big smile.

  Not even the strongest of men would have kept their resolution faced with such as that.

  He grabbed her, both hands at her waist, and turned to the bed. He had no choice in the matter. Before he could even register his actions, she was wiggling beneath him, bare and wanting, making those contented little noises of hers that drove him wild.

  In the next moment, his shirt was off, followed by his plaid. Her hands kneaded their way from his waist to grasp his buttocks even as she locked her legs around his.

  “Do you love me?”

  Her question caught him by surprise. “Yer my wife,” he answered at last, not sure he was able to say more.

  “I didn’t ask that.” She pushed a lock of hair behind his ear and feathered her soft thumb over his cheek. “Do you love me? Am I your Soulmate?”

  He could hardly give an answer he didn’t know himself. He’d thought it might be possible, but how could he claim to love her when he’d betrayed her?

  If she were his Soulmate, wouldn’t he have fought harder for that which she wanted so badly? Wouldn’t he have stood up to Blane’s decision not to send men to help her grandparents?

  He wanted her. That much he knew with no doubts. Wanted her in his bed and in his arms. Wanted her ability to heal him. Wanted her to her make him feel whole. Whole in body and in spirit.

  Beneath him, she waited, looking up at him, so willing, so trusting, he thought for a brief instant his heart might break with the knowledge of his own treachery.

  He could say none of those things. No more than he could bear to tell her that which she wanted most had been denied.

  “I need you more than I’ve ever needed anything.”

  It seemed to be enough to satisfy her.

  “It was the Fates themselves that set us together, Drew. It had to be, don’
t you think?”

  The Fates? Perhaps she was right.

  Wicked, wicked Fates.

  Twenty-six

  How on earth had Ellie known the name of that song last night?

  Leah sipped at the tea Drew had brewed for her before he’d gone. It hadn’t even been daylight when he’d kissed her forehead and told her he was off to the lists. She was almost tempted to think he’d left early to escape spending time with her.

  Not that she could blame him completely. She’d felt used up and foul when she’d first awakened.

  Thank goodness for this tea. Now on her second cup, she could actually believe that her head wasn’t going to explode after all.

  No more honey ale for her. Not ever. It had clouded her mind and stripped her of every inhibition she had left.

  Not that she appeared to have as many as she’d thought, based on her behavior over the last couple of days.

  She laid her head against the back of the big chair, eyes closed, and stretched her feet toward the warmth of the fire. Unbidden, strains of her mother’s favorite song drifted through her mind once more.

  The damn thing wouldn’t even be written for seven hundred years. There was no way Ellie could know its name . . . at least no way unless Ellie had come from the future, too.

  Leah lifted a hand to her temple, massaging. The whole thing was enough to give her a headache, if she hadn’t already managed that herself with all the ale she’d downed last night.

  It wasn’t impossible. Look at her. If she’d managed to get here from the future, why couldn’t Ellie. The people were Faerie descendants, after all.

  Glancing up to the window casement, she noted the sun was high in the morning sky. Surely Drew should have returned by now. It had been hours since he’d left. No one worked out for that long.

  Tired of waiting, she pushed up from her chair and crossed the room to the big chest in the corner. A clean shift, a drying towel, and she’d be ready to hit the bathhouse. A nice long soak and she’d feel like a new woman.

  And if Drew still wasn’t back by then?

  She’d find something to do with herself. Maybe she’d hunt Ellie down and ask her where she came from. Or when. That should make for one interesting little conversation.

  A contented smile curved her lips as she stepped into the hallway.

  Ahead of her, maids bustled back and forth through an open doorway, hauling bundles of bedding in and out.

  “Cleaning day?” she asked when she drew even with the door.

  “No, my lady,” one of the girls answered. “Sir Peter has taken his English arse back where it belongs.”

  “Agnes!” another rebuked sharply. “You shouldna be saying such as that.”

  “True,” the first replied, smiling. “As I’ve no proof he’s gone back to England, only that he’s left here.”

  The two of them giggled, heads bent as they continued their work.

  Moreland was gone?

  Oh, this was already shaping up to be the best day she’d had in a very long time.

  Bath taken, light lunch delivered to her room and finished, and still Drew hadn’t returned.

  It was almost enough to make a girl think he was avoiding her. But why on earth would he feel the need to do something like that?

  Because Moreland was gone? Now that would make sense. She’d agreed to wait until the knight had left before pressing the issue of going to help the MacQuarries.

  And yet . . . according to Rosalyn, Drew had already presented her case to the laird.

  She paced, back and forth in front of the fireplace, her thoughts struggling to find a possibility that worked.

  Unless . . .

  What if Drew had already received the laird’s word on the matter? Word that he didn’t want to pass on to her.

  But would he hesitate because the laird’s decision had come down against giving his help or for it?

  Whatever the case, Drew might not want to speak with her, but she certainly wanted to speak to him. Even if only to put her uncomfortable suspicions to rest.

  She stepped into the hallway to find Ellie hurrying in her direction.

  “I was just coming to get you.” Ellie grasped Leah’s hand as she reached her side. “I want to show you something.”

  “Show me what?” Now that she’d made up her mind to hunt down Drew and confront him, she really wasn’t up for a distraction.

  “Puppies! The most wonderful little squirming balls of love you’ll ever lay eyes on. They’re just precious. And though they’re only three days old, Missy assures me they’re ready for visitors.”

  Puppies? Okay. Maybe a short delay would do her good. Give her time to cool down a little so that she wouldn’t be quite so confrontational when she found Drew. Confrontational could be bad. Especially if she’d simply made a big deal in her mind out of nothing. Besides, she’d wanted to talk to Ellie anyway.

  “Let’s go.”

  She followed quietly alongside Ellie as they left the keep and headed toward the outbuildings, but held back a step or two when she noted one of the stable boys out in the courtyard.

  Confrontation might be a bad idea but simply knowing where Drew had gone off to shouldn’t be a problem.

  She veered her course, stopping just behind the boy.

  “Excuse me. I was looking for Drew. Have you seen him?”

  The boy appeared startled at first, then glanced up at the sky, one eye squinted, before answering.

  “This time of day, it’s likely he’s in the lists, my lady. Should I take word yer looking for him?”

  “No, thank you. I’ll wait until he’s finished.” She turned from the boy, hurrying to catch up with Ellie.

  “Is something wrong?” the woman asked as she joined her.

  “Not really. It’s just that I haven’t seen Drew since early this morning so I thought I’d ask around to see if anybody knew where I might find him.”

  Ellie smiled and reached for her hand again, pulling her forward as she started walking. “No need to worry. This time of day he’d likely be in the lists.”

  But he’d gone to do that just as the sun was rising. Nobody worked out that much. Okay. Maybe professional soldiers who made their living fighting for whatever lord would pay them most might spend that much time practicing. But Drew wasn’t a professional soldier.

  He didn’t even condone fighting. His mother had confirmed that herself.

  They’d entered a small building off the side of the main stable and there, toward the back, stood the huge beast of a dog Ellie had sent to keep her company in the garden. If Leah didn’t know better, she’d swear the animal guarded what looked like a padded box, where an alert-eyed little terrier and several squirming bundles of fluff lay.

  “Hey, Missy. This is my new sister, Leah. She’s the one I told you about. I brought her out to admire your beautiful babies. May we hold one?”

  Was she serious? Leah found her head swiveling between the woman at her side and the dog at her feet. Ellie behaved as if she were actually having a conversation with the animal. More amazing was that the dog looked intelligent enough to be answering!

  “Thank you, sweetie.” Ellie bent, touching each little ball of fur in turn. “You did so good on these babies, Missy!”

  Weird. Maybe that’s what living in a nest of Faeries eventually did to you, set you to talking to animals.

  “Ellie, I’ve a question for you. I may be totally off base but . . .” She paused trying to think of a subtle way to ask, realizing at last there was none. Maybe she could work her way up to asking what she really wanted to know. “You’re not from around here, are you? I mean, not originally.”

  Ellie looked up at her, smiling as she rubbed one of the little furballs against her cheek. “No. I was born and raised just outside a little town called Prairieland.”

  “Uh-huh.” Certainly didn’t sound Scottish. Or medieval. “And what would you say if I were to ask something totally off the wall, like, have you even been born yet?
”

  The other woman laughed, handing the bundle she held up to Leah before standing with another curled in her hand. “I guess I’d have answer by saying, technically, no. No more than you have, am I right?”

  “You are.” At least she had her explanation as to how Ellie had known the name of that song.

  “Believe me, Leah, it’s a whole lot easier if you don’t put a lot of effort into trying to wrap your brain around it. The Fae have their own reasons for everything they do. And while those reasons may not make any sense at all to us while we’re in the middle of whatever’s going on, once you get on the back side of it, the view is altogether different.” Ellie snuggled her face into the puppy she held and smiled again. “Aren’t they precious?”

  The dark ball of fur in Leah’s hand wiggled and a tiny pink tongue touched her finger. No wonder people loved puppies so much. They tugged at your heartstrings and made you happy no matter what your troubles, a living, breathing distraction from the concerns of the world.

  Maybe she should bring Drew out here to try petting puppies for a while instead of spending all his time with that sword stuff.

  Too bad the concerns of the world had a way of creeping back in.

  “Don’t you think it’s strange that Drew spends so much time in the lists? He’s always out there.”

  Two or three times a day ever since they’d arrived here, it seemed. How a man as thoughtful and caring as Drew, as opposed to fighting as he was supposed to be, could be so obsessed with participating in the violence of practicing swordplay was beyond her ability to comprehend.

  “Of course he is. He has to be.”

  “I don’t understand. It’s not like he’s a mercenary or anything. Why does he have to? Why the constant practice to build his skill with a sword?”

  Ellie tipped her head, smiling quizzically. “It has nothing to do with skill. You’ve seen his injuries. The exercise he takes in the lists is the only thing standing between him and the debilitating pain that threatens to make an invalid of him. Surely he’s told you. He’s spent years searching for some other relief, some miracle cure, but until he finds one, this is all he can do. If he stops, he’ll end up confined to his bed in no time at all.”