by C. C. Wiley
Her eyes widened as she absorbed his suspicions. “He would not do that. I’m sure of it.”
“You have a good and caring heart, Meg love. And mayhap, you are right to trust him. But I have yet to determine his motive for not returning to his clan when you informed him there was no longer immediate coin to be found for his services.”
Her rosy cheeks paled. She compressed her lips as if to seal off a confession. What did she hide? Was there more than protection money that kept the Scotsman from finding his way home? “Ah, Meg,” he groaned. “Alright, I vow to keep our conversation peaceful.”
His gaze followed her lips as they widened into a smile. “And if he gives good solid answers you will release him?” she asked.”
“Will it please you if I agree to your request?”
He could not fight the temptation any longer and slipped his fingers under her long tresses. She tilted her cheek toward his hand. Like a kitten seeking a long stroke over its pelt. Her sigh stroked his skin.
“I should find my sisters and seek their help with the preparations,” she said, but made no effort to move from his embrace. His heart skipped. They had shared a moment that he thought only available to his friends, Darrick and Ranulf. A woman to hold through the wee hours of the morn and never tire from his touch. A wife to mother his children. Family.
“’Tis been a while since I’ve spoken with your sisters. Do they, too, despise the sight of me?”
“No.” She pressed a consoling hand on his arm. “Don’t be foolish. They are busy with their tasks that come from the heart.”
“Passions like your beehives?”
“And my honey meads.” She wrinkled her nose. “But they are not near as compelling as their passions. Phillipa would never leave the barns and fields if I allowed it. And Anna cares for her gardens as if her plants were children, but never more than when she is caring for those in need. Family usually acquires the last position of importance. We do it for the people of Fletchers Landing.”
“It sounds like a lonely existence.” He recognized the lost soul in her description and wished to improve it. He slid his thumb over her lower lip. “Soon, we’ll have each other to keep us company.”
She smiled that soft smile that he enjoyed seeing when coaxed out of hiding. “Does that mean you’ll help me gather the honey from the hives?”
Nathan suppressed a shudder. He had never considered bees as an enticing element to lovemaking. But if it kept her smiling, he would do his best without complaining. Until one stung him. Then he’d have to find another way to make her sigh.
“Go.” He turned her toward the main keep. “Find your family. We’ll make this event one to remember.”
She rose on her toes and kissed his cheek. “We must search out Brother John to officiate.”
Nathan nodded. He did not want to lose what gains he had made. Unwilling to let her go, he drew her closer so that he might taste her. Nightfall could not come soon enough. “The ceremony will be quick and efficient. No unnecessary words,” he murmured over her neck. “I would that we forgo the wedding.”
He perused the location he planned to lick next. Perhaps the delicate shell.
Meg jerked the fine hairs at the base of his neck. He winced as she increased her pressure, dragging him away. What game was she playing? He nipped her earlobe and she rewarded him with a kick to his shins. “Ow!” he yelped.
Her teeth bared, anger shimmered from her glare. “You wish to cancel our wedding? How dare you…you jackanapes donkey,” she sputtered. “I gave you my virginity!”
“My lady, I don’t…”
Confused by her outrage, he let her drill her finger into his chest until he feared she might puncture a lung. Or, God forbid, if she aimed for lower points of attack. He scrambled for safe ground as she followed him around the solar.
“King’s knight or not, I’ll see you suffer. You… horse’s arse.”
Despite his fear of damage to his nether regions, he swallowed to keep from chuckling at her curses. Her black tresses flared out as she shook her fist at him. “You’ll find yourself stuffing in a gunnysack and used as a fute-ball on the loamy marshes of Scotland.”
My God, the woman is a passionate sight to behold.
Her breasts threatened to escape the confines of her bodice as she took a shuddering deep breath. His gaze stuck on the vision. Her breasts. He wanted to lose himself in their lush mounds. His little head nodded, pressing for release from his chausses.
What did she say? Nathan tore his attention away from his lusty thoughts. “Fute-ball? What do you know of fute-ball?” Jealousy made him want to claim her as his wife. Again. “How much time have you been spending with our guest?” He spat that last word out like it was spoiled fish. Closing the space between them, he made certain she could not damage his already aroused body parts.
“What does it matter?” she yelled.
Sorrow pinched his soul when she flinched as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His chest ached. Her words were like a mace to his heart. “What does it matter,” he croaked. He shook his head and rubbed his breast bone. Mayhap his heart was already dying from the blow.
“I already gave you what you demanded.”
“Demanded? My dear sweet Meg. If memory serves, you came to my bedchamber.”
“Excuse me,” Phillipa called from the doorway. They both jumped and separated like two naughty children caught in the act.
She eyed them, first Nathan and then Meg. “Have you seen Baldric?”
“We left him in the master chamber.” Meg’s brow furrowed. “He had his orders and should have found you by now.”
“He probably lost track of time,” Phillipa said.
“Or is sulking,” Nathan added.
“Mayhap he went in search of you in the barns and your paths passed in opposite directions.”
Phillipa tucked a stray curl behind her ear. A clump of dirt stuck to the toe of her boot and she scraped it over the rushes covering the floor. “’Tis odd though. He hasn’t let his pup out since he went to speak with you and Sir Nathan. Poor Whitefoot has been whining and barking, scratching at the gate. Both of them had been in a sour mood all morn ever since they returned from the village. ’Tis certain they would have caused one of the mares to foal early. That’s why I sent him to you. To get it off his chest and give me peace.”
Dread began to creep its way between Nathan’s shoulders. “Phillipa, did he mention the reason he needed to seek us out.”
“He didn’t confess his foolish mistake?”
Meg wrapped her arm around Phillipa’s back. “What was it he was supposed to share with us?”
Her sister growled, as she began pacing the solar like a bear. “Foolish, pigheaded boy. Serves him right that I tell you instead.” She picked up a pitcher and let it roll between her hands. “He was worried about the commissioned sword. He went to see the blacksmith. When he learned that he was a prisoner he was beside himself with worry.” She set the pottery on the side table. “You know how emotional he gets, Meg. You have to do something about it.”
Meg rolled her eyes at her sister. “Later. Baldric,” she urged. “Why was he so upset?”
Phillipa glanced at Nathan then turned her back to whisper.
“He did what?” Meg yelped. She gripped her throat, her voice cracking. Phillipa nodded and hung her head. Her shoulders slumped.
“Share it,” Nathan said. “What did he do?” He handed Meg the cup he had filled with mead. She knocked it back in one long gulp.
“He’s the one who released the blacksmith,” she croaked.
“’Tis not entirely his fault,” Phillipa chimed in. “The wench Millicent convinced Baldric that the only way he could have his sword was to unlock the smokehouse cell. One of them struck him.” She tapped the corner of her eye. “’Didn’t you notice his bruise? ’Twas on
e of the reasons I sent him to you to deal with.”
“He said he tripped.” Meg said. She squeezed her eyes tight. “And I believed him.”
Nathan laid his palms on her shoulders and caressed them. “We all did. Wallowing in guilt can wait. We need to find him and set his mind at ease.”
Meg kept her hand in his and rose. Their fingers locked, woven together in unity.
“Phillipa, why didn’t you send him to Anna? Lord knows she has greater healing skills than me.”
She sighed dramatically. Nathan had this uneasy feeling that this was only the beginning of family issues among brother and sisters. “He was upsetting the beasts. I was tired unto death of his weeping and since Anna was too busy rubbing the brawny Scotsman’s muscles and cooing over him, I figured you were the next best person. May I return to the barns now?”
“No,” Meg snapped. “You will stay and help us locate your little brother. Go to the master chamber and look for him there.”
She and Nathan locked gazes. “We must go to Anna. Now.”
* * * *
“I will throttle her if she has done what I fear,” Meg ground out through gritted teeth. Why had she ever agreed to let Anna place healing rooms so far from the main keep? Because of disease and contaminants? Her sister knew of her fear of vermin and she had used it against her.
Nathan grabbed her wrists, slowing her down. She glared at his fingers, daring him to maintain his hold. “Care to share with me what that is? Do I need to carry both of my broadswords?”
“Both?” she asked. Visions of him swinging two great weapons, his muscles bulging, had distracted her for only a moment. It was enough. He had succeeded and he knew it enough to offer a mischievous wink.
“I can wield two at one time. I’ll demonstrate once we are finally alone.”
Meg’s skin flushed, warming her ears. What else could he do with his brawn?
She licked her lips and felt pleasure in knowing that his attention was drawn to her mouth. Two could play the game of distraction.
Her heart lurched. He had done it again and turned her, a responsible lady of the keep, into a wanton wench. She had to save her sister from the same fate. “I must stop her before it is too late for her, too.”
Nathan’s brows arched. He had the nerve to grin back at her.
“If you yell huzzah, and slap Duncan’s back when next you see him, I vow I will smack you.”
She bit her lip when he covered his groin. “My lady, my role will soon be that of protector of all the women in my household. Duncan Graham will thank his lucky thistle that my name is not yet written in the family’s holy records. When that is done and the ink is dry, I’ll be forced to call him to the tilting yard. But until that time, let us seek out dear Duncan’s sickbed.”
Meg prayed no one but the patient remained in his bed. She was beginning to think wantonness must run through their family blood.
Fingers locked together, they slipped through the unnaturally quiet hall leading to the patients’ quarters. Nathan whistled under his breath. Bottles and baskets littered the shelves. Dried herbs hung from the rafters. Jars of unguents and liquids lined the cupboard. A pot of something that Meg dared not sniff, simmered over the fire.
“Is your sister an alchemist?”
“She’s a student of the art of healing. That is all.” She tugged him toward the room where she last saw Duncan and Anna. Her lungs squeezed, strangling the air.
“Shite,” Nathan said. He broke free of her hand and marched into the empty room.
Chapter 19
“How could you?” Meg shouted. Whether from anger or fear, or a blend of emotions that she had never known before, she was ready to put all of her sisters into a dungeon. If they had one. Which fortunately, up till now, they hadn’t had the need. Now, she was ready to order one built the first chance she had. She would even help lay the first block of stone.
Her wedding day came and went without a ceremony. Instead, it had become a nightmare and she had no idea how to make things right.
“I had to,” Anna shouted back.
“Thanks to you, our brother is lost out there.”
“Duncan would never harm Baldric. Not for any amount of money.”
“You don’t know that,” Meg growled. “He took good coin with the promise of protection from his own thieving clan. What manner of man does that?”
Nathan stared into the fireplace. The master’s chamber had once been a place of peace. Now it had become a war room. Meg wanted to go to him. Coward that she was, she did not have the courage to take the chance and stroke his rigid back.
Brother John refused to leave the window, but stared out into the night. The crash of the firth slamming into the shore reached their ears. A storm brewed in the moonless sky, stirring the sea into a rage.
Phillipa paced like a caged animal. “When may I return to the stables? The animals need to be fed.”
Meg spun on her little sister. “You did check the barns. Am I right?”
Phillipa shrugged her shoulders. “I looked. I called out for him. Whitefoot was still there, barking and scratching at the door. Same as when Baldric left him.” She sniffed as a tear slid down her cheek. “What if something horrible has happened to him?”
They all turned as someone knocked at the door.
“Enter,” Nathan bellowed.
Their steward Matthew tugged on his forelock. “My lord, you told me to come for you if I have news.”
“Spit it out.”
“Two messengers arrived one after the other. Neither of them saw a young boy on the road.” He cut his eyes to the side, and whispered out the corner of his mouth. “Nor in the stream.”
Meg gasped and found both of her sisters had launched into her arms. Nathan snatched Matthew’s tunic sleeve and tugged him away from the weeping women. Meg was grateful that he made certain to keep within earshot so that she might hear the news too.
Nathan closed his eyes and leaned his palm on the mantle. “Was that all?”
“One came from the south and brought a missive for your eyes only. Other one came by boat. They had tied it to a rock and tossed it onto the beach. I almost missed it. No telling when it arrived.” He dug a stone out of his pocket and held it out for Nathan to take and scurried off to return to his position as guard over the keep.
Meg watched as Nathan unrolled the first parchment. He palmed a round disc and tucked it inside his belt. It did not look like any coin of the realm that she had ever seen. What did it mean? She waited; praying that he would tell her what was in it. Did it come from the king? Surely he had not received word that the marriage did not take place. Nathan looked up. “The men I requested to come have been detained.” His chest rose and fell. “When they do reach Fletchers Landing there will be more to help scour the land for Baldric.”
Meg left her sisters. She stroked his back as she had wanted to do all along. She needed to feel him under her palm. “And the other?”
He untied the string. A torn piece of parchment fluttered to the floor. Meg bent to pick it up. She could not bring herself to read it and held it out for Nathan. “Please.” The word came out strangled.
Nathan read the note aloud. “Bring the king’s treasure or he dies.”
A roaring sound entered the room, filling Meg’s ears. The room began to spin as her legs turned to liquid. Nathan caught her before she hit the floor.
Everything receded until all she saw was Nathan’s face. He cradled her in his arms and bent over her. “I vow that no one will harm him.” He glanced up, including everyone else in the chamber. “I will protect all of you.”
“I know you will, love.”
All but one member of her family huddled around her. Brother John cleared his throat. Anna held out a cup for her to sip. Phillipa knelt on the floor. All but their little brother was there. Tears burned her
lids.
She forced a smile as Nathan kissed her fingers. Threading her fingers into his auburn curls, she pulled him near. She no longer cared who saw her do it, so she let go and kissed him.
When she finally came up for air, she smoothed Nathan’s jaw and ran her finger over his lush lips. His gaze poured into her, filling her with his concern, and perhaps, love.
“What are we to do?” she asked. “There is no king’s treasure.”
Nathan settled her next to him, but did not release his hold. She snuggled deeper into the crook of his arm. “First we will learn who we are dealing with.” He turned to Anna. “Make contact with Duncan Graham.”
Anna blushed. “I don’t know how…”
“’Tis not the time for deception. Find him. Let him know that Baldric has been missing the moment you set Duncan loose. He’s a smart man. If he is innocent, he’ll come to our aid. If not, then we’ll know where to look first.”
“He’s a good man. You’ll see.” Anna swept up her skirt. She paused at the door. Her bottom lip caught between her teeth.
Was this the reason she had pressed so hard for Meg to find a husband? “I pray you are correct,” Meg said.
Brother John hovered nearby. His gnarled fingers rolled over the cross hanging from the leather thong around his neck. “Perhaps we should continue with the plans of the day. Securing the marital vows in the holy pages.”
“No,” Meg said. “I cannot agree to that.”
“Gives you a way to escape the king’s marriage net. Doesn’t it?”
“I will hold to our agreement. But I cannot think on our wedding day and not worry about Baldric. He’s missing. Out there.” She waved toward the window. “Alone. Afraid.”
Nathan kissed her forehead. “He’s still alive. Trust it. Otherwise, they would not use him as bait.”
Meg tensed as someone knocked on the door. Cook carried a tray laden with food. She swallowed a sob. Another servant, almost Baldric’s age, carried one filled with pitchers and cups.
“We thought it best to fill your stomachs and maintain your strength, my lady,” Cook said.