She touched a hand to his. “Believe it, my lord.”
As they returned their attention to the feast, the others at the table found themselves watching these two handsome young people, aware that their relationship was much more than that of two friends. For the love that gleamed in their eyes was impossible to hide.
The challenge boldly tossed by one warrior was now on the minds of all. Had their laird lost his heart to a witch?
Grant stood by the doors of the great hall, bidding his guests good-night. Servants scurried about fetching cloaks and shawls, while Gresham and the stable lads woke grooms who’d fallen asleep after finishing their pints behind the stables.
Those warriors who could still sit a horse were helped into their saddles, while the rest climbed into the backs of wagons and carts for the ride back to the village with their ladies.
Throughout all the commotion, Grant was aware of Kylia standing in front of the fireplace, talking softly to Dougal, Finlay and Lord Giles. The sight of her, so calm and serene amid the chaos, did strange things to his heart.
“I bid you good-night, cousin.” Culver accepted a cloak from a servant and started away.
Grant laid a hand on his sleeve. “How is my aunt?”
“She is calmer of mind now. A servant brought us a meal, and afterward she visited Ranald’s tomb to pray. I believe she regrets her display of emotion, cousin.”
Grant nodded. “Will I see you on the morrow?”
“Aye, for Hazlet has asked me to break the fast with her.”
“You are welcome at my table, Culver.”
“I thank you, cousin.” The man turned away and strode out the door to the courtyard.
Minutes later Grant joined the others by the fire. “Will you stay the night, Giles?”
The older man shook his head. “I have business in the village. But I’ll return on the morrow, for we have much to discuss with the Council before I leave for my home.” He offered his hand to Grant, and then to Dougal and Finlay, before turning to Kylia. “My lady, I am honored to meet you.”
“And I you, Lord Giles.”
He lifted her hand to his lips before taking his leave.
Kylia climbed the stairs between Grant and Dougal, who accompanied her to the door of her chambers, where she was greeted by Ardis.
“Good night, my lady.” Grant bowed formally over her hand before lifting it to his lips.
His brother did the same. “Good night, Kylia. I can’t wait to hear more about your kingdom on the morrow.”
When they were gone, Kylia walked to her sleeping chambers and slipped the shawl from her shoulders.
“You must be weary, Ardis.”
“Nay, my lady. Whenever there is a feast here at Duncrune Castle, I get the chance to visit with my kin from the village.”
“Are there many?” Kylia stepped out of her gown and petticoats and accepted the nightdress of softest lawn.
“Aye. My mother was one of seven, my lady. And my father the eldest of five. After the guests are fed, we gather in the refectory to eat and talk endlessly until we catch up with all the news of our families.”
Kylia found herself smiling at the image. “That sounds like such a grand time. Whenever my sisters and I get together, we never seem to run out of things to talk about.”
“Aye. It is the same with us. Will I help you into your pallet before I leave?”
“Nay, Ardis. I’ll see myself off to my bed in a few moments.”
“Then I’ll say good-night, my lady” Ardis picked up one of the candles and made her way out.
When the door to the chambers closed behind the servant, Kylia walked barefoot to the balcony to watch the clouds drifting across the star-studded sky.
It soothed her to know that those same stars were winking over the Mystical Kingdom.
“Are you watching, Mum? Are you missing me as I’m missing you?”
The light of one star seemed to grow brighter than all the rest, and Kylia watched as it began to dance in the night sky. It lasted for only a few moments, before the star returned to its place in the heavens, and its light gradually dimmed. But when it was over, Kylia found herself smiling.
“Thank you, Mum. I don’t feel quite as lonely now.”
She turned and was startled by a tall, shadowy figure behind her. She covered her mouth with her hand to stifle the little cry that sprang to her throat, then slowly let out a sigh of relief. “Grant. You startled me.”
“Forgive me, my lady. I wanted to be certain your servant was gone before showing myself.”
“You shouldn’t be here. Surely someone will see you, and by morning we will be the talk of the castle.”
“Trust me, my lady, we are already the talk of, not only the castle, but the entire village of Duncrune. Do you mind?”
She shook her head and the dark silk of her curls drifted like a veil around her shoulders. “Not for my sake. But for your sake, you should leave, Grant. After all, you are laird of the castle.”
“And as laird, I choose to be here with you.” He reached out a hand to her hair and watched as the strands sifted through his fingers. “All night I wanted this. Only this.” He took her hand and placed it over his heart. “Feel what you do to my poor heart.”
“It’s thundering.”
“Aye.” He looked into her eyes before drawing her close and brushing her mouth with his. “The need for you is such, my lady, that I couldn’t bear the thought of sleeping alone.”
He kissed her long and slow and deep, until she sighed and wrapped her arms around his neck, giving herself up to the pleasure.
It was what she wanted, as well. Just this. To be held in this man’s arms. To feel treasured above all else. To be loved until they were both sated.
“My people were charmed by you, Kylia.” He ran soft kisses across her temple to her cheek. “My brother Dougal could hardly contain his excitement at meeting you.” He pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose. “It was clear that Finlay and Giles were enchanted by you.”
She moved until her mouth found his, hungry for more of his kisses. “And their laird?”
“Has lost his heart to you completely, my lady.”
They came together in a kiss so hot, so hungry, the very air around them seemed charged with energy.
“So.” The sound of Hazlet’s voice had their heads coming up sharply. “This is how the laird of Duncrune Castle behaves when in the company of a witch.”
Kylia started to step away when Grant’s hand on her shoulder stopped her. Holding her close, he looked over. “You are intruding, Aunt.”
“I can see that, for I have eyes. But it seems my nephew has been blinded by witchcraft.”
“I prefer to call it love.” His tone was soft, but there was no denying the barely controlled anger that lay beneath.
“Do not debase the word with such as I have just witnessed, nephew. Love is only true when blessed by the sacraments, and witnessed by a man of the church. What you and this witch share is coarse and base, and mocks everything that is good and decent.”
Grant heard Kylia’s little intake of breath and absorbed her pain to his own heart. With an oath he set her behind him before advancing toward his aunt. “You will leave these chambers, never to return. Do you understand me?”
“You need not bar me, for I have no desire to see this woman, or speak to her again. She is a vulgar woman who is leading you down a path of destruction, nephew. Fool that you are, you are so blinded by her beauty, you fail to see the evil that lurks in her heart.”
As she turned away, Kylia hurried across the room to bar her exit from the room. “Wait, Lady Hazlet, for there is something I must tell you.”
The older woman shoved her aside and flung open the door. On the threshold she turned. Though it was impossible to see her eyes through the ever-present veil, the venom in her voice was plain enough. “You are dead to me. As is my nephew. I will hear no evil words from your lips. Nor will I acknowledge you in any way.”
As her footsteps echoed in the dark hallway, Grant closed the door and drew Kylia into his arms. Against her temple he whispered, “I misjudged the depth of my aunt’s grief. Giles was right when he said it had taken over her mind.” He tipped up Kylia’s chin and stared into her troubled eyes. “Don’t let her words turn you against me, my love.”
“How could I ever?”
“Promise?”
“Aye. But I ask a promise of you in return.”
“Anything.”
She sighed. “Don’t shut your aunt out of your life.”
He drew back. “You heard the words she hurled at me. At us. She insulted the woman I love. How can I continue to allow her to do so?”
Kylia touched a finger to his lips. “Listen to me, my love. For all Hazlet’s anger, I feel she is deeply troubled by something from her past. Perhaps she fears that Ranald didn’t love her enough. If that’s so, I can assure her he did.”
“And how do you know that?”
“Come.” She caught his hand and led him toward her pallet. “I’ll tell you about my dream.”
The smile was back in his eyes; the warmth in his voice. “Aye. I’ll gladly listen.” He drew his arms around her waist and pressed his lips to the hollow of her throat. “And when you’ve finished, I’ll show you all the wonderful things I’ve been dreaming about.”
Chapter Fifteen
“My lady.”
A knock on the door of her chambers, and a muffled voice from the other side, had Kylia sitting up in confusion. Beside her, Grant folded an arm beneath his head and frowned.
His voice was sleep roughened. “Tell Ardis to go away.”
Kylia looked alarmed. “How can I do that, my lord? It’s her duty to help me prepare for the day.”
He drew her down and brushed a kiss over her cheek, sending heat curling all the way to her toes. “Tell her to come back when the sun is high.”
Kylia lifted her head and glanced at the balcony. “It’s been raining all night. The sun may not come out for hours.”
“Even better.” He ran a hand down her hair and growled against her lips, “Send her away. I’m not ready to leave you, my love.”
Kylia sighed. “I simply cannot lie.”
“Then tell her the truth.”
Seeing the challenge in his eyes, she turned to the door and called, “Come back later, Ardis. I’m not ready to leave my pallet yet.”
“Aye, my lady.”
As Ardis’s footsteps receded, Kylia caught sight of the wide smile that split Grant’s lips. “That was no lie, for I’m not ready to leave yet.”
“A good thing.” He dragged her into his arms and kissed her until they were both breathless. “For after that dream you shared with me last night, I’m feeling even more inclined to spend every precious day doing something pleasurable, in order to store up memories for the bad times.”
“What makes you think there will be bad times, my lord?”
“Right now—” he ran soft, wet kisses down her throat “—it’s impossible to think at all, my love.”
And then, as the castle hummed with activity beyond the door, the two of them slipped away to a warm, snug cocoon of soft sighs and gentle kisses.
“Good morrow, Grant.” Dougal hurried across the great hall to clap a hand on his brother’s shoulder before bowing to Kylia. “My lady. I hope you slept well on your first night under our roof.”
“I did, thank you.” Kylia could feel her cheeks color as she walked to the table between Grant and his younger brother. She looked up at the men who were awaiting them at table. “Good morrow, Finlay, Culver. Lord Giles.”
The three men were on their feet and bowing over her hand.
“My lady.” Giles beamed. “You are truly a sight for these old eyes.”
“You say that to all the pretty maidens,” Finlay said dryly. He turned to Kylia. “But in your case, my lady, the man does not exaggerate. You look refreshed.”
“I am, thank you.” She took her seat beside Grant and accepted a goblet of hot mulled wine from a servant.
Grant turned to Culver. “Where is my aunt?”
“She decided to break her fast in her chambers.” The older man looked uncomfortable as he added, “She thought it best.”
“Will you convey to her that I desire her company at table when we sup tonight?”
“I will, my lord.” Culver seemed surprised and more than a little pleased. “Does this mean that you bear her no ill will?”
“I’m still smarting from her words, but the lady Kylia begged a favor, and I cannot refuse. For the sake of this good woman, I request my aunt’s company.”
Culver bowed slightly to Kylia. “You are as wise as you are lovely, my lady.” He turned to Grant. “By your leave, I’ll convey your request to your aunt now.”
Grant nodded. When the man was gone, he glanced around the table at the others, who had listened in silence.
Dougal seemed relieved. “I’m glad you’re willing to forgive our aunt, my lady. For she’s been like a mother to us all these years.”
“So your brother has told me. And like a mother, she is fearful of what she doesn’t understand. My family has long known that we are feared in your world because of our gifts.”
“Tell me about them.” Dougal began polishing off a joint of fowl, while emptying his goblet. He ate with a boyish enthusiasm that had Kylia grinning.
Seeing her watching him, he paused. “What is it, my lady?”
She shook her head. “It’s just that I’m unaccustomed to seeing anyone eat with such glee.”
“Don’t the men in your kingdom enjoy their food?”
Again she laughed. “There are no men in the Mystical Kingdom. Well, except for Jeremy, but I’m not sure a troll is the same as a man.”
“A troll?” The food was forgotten as he stared at her in surprise. “There truly are such things as a trolls?”
“I know of only one.”
“Aren’t they nasty little mythical creatures that sleep under bridges and live off the kindness of others?”
“Jeremy is as sweet as a bairn. Though he has confessed to being quite angry when he lived in this world. But he has forgiven those who taunted him. As has Bessie.”
“Is Bessie a troll, too?”
“Nay.” Kylia laughed, a clear sweet sound that had Grant smiling along with her. “Bessie looks like an old crone, all stooped over, with a hunched back and crooked, almost fearsome features, but she cooks like an angel and has the disposition of a saint. Before my family fled this land, we encountered Jeremy and Bessie living in dire circumstances, and made them part of our family. When we left for our kingdom they chose to go with us, since they had nowhere else to go.”
“You weren’t afraid of them?” Dougal asked.
“Nay. For my mum and gram taught us that we must look beyond the face that one shows to the world, and see what is in the heart.”
Giles shook his head. “You continually surprise me, my lady. If all of us could follow that advice, this world would be a better place.”
Dougal polished off yet another joint of fowl and leaned back. “I want to hear all about your kingdom, my lady.”
“Another time.” Grant drained his goblet and got to his feet. “Now we must meet with the Council, for there is much business to discuss.” He touched a hand to Kylia’s shoulder. “Perhaps you’d care to explore the castle a bit, my lady.”
She closed a hand over his. “I’d like that.”
As they started away Giles paused. “The castle gardens are lovely this time of year, my dear. I’ve heard you have a wolf pup that might enjoy the freedom to run.”
“Aye. I’ve named him Wee Lad. I thank you, Lord Giles.”
Kylia watched them walk away, then got to h
er feet. Hadn’t Culver said that Hazlet walked the gardens each day while she prayed? If she were ever to make peace with the woman, she’d best start now.
The rain had fled, leaving the gardens green and the stones that lined the pathways sparkling in the sunlight. Wee Lad ran ahead, stopping to sniff at all the strange, new things. As Kylia followed more slowly along the hedgerows, she was soon caught up in the peace of her surroundings. Roses grew in profusion, as well as colorful foxglove, lady’s mantle and fragrant lavender. There were fountains where birds splashed, and stone benches inviting her to pause and enjoy the beauty. While the pup chased a butterfly, she sat, listening to the flow of water and filling her lungs with the wonderful perfume of the flowers.
It pleased her to know that the people in Grant’s world enjoyed the same simple pleasures that she had always enjoyed in hers. She smiled at the antics of Wee Lad as he stood very still, watching a family of birds that spread their wings and hopped about, enjoying their bath.
She was so lost in the sight of the pup’s antics, as he dashed into the fountain and chased the birds, she was startled when a robed figure entered her line of vision. Hazlet, in the familiar veil and headdress, walked with her head down, her lips moving in silent prayer.
When she caught sight of Kylia seated on the stone bench, she looked around wildly, as though planning to flee. Then, seeing that she’d been spotted, she lifted her head and fixed Kylia with a stern look. “What game do you play with me, witch?”
“Game?” Kylia sat up straighter.
“Culver told me that my nephew requests my presence at his table, because you asked it of him. Why would you do such a thing?”
“You are as much mother as aunt to Grant and Dougal. It would pain them to be separated from you.”
“Why should that matter to you?”
“You are a woman who loved a man deeply. You, more than anyone, ought to understand that anything that causes pain to Grant, pains me as well.”
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