He breathed again only when I took my hand away. And then I lowered myself to the cushion of my cloak, reclining slightly, and opened myself to him. “Come, Duncan. I can wait no longer.”
For an endless moment he stared at me lying there wantonly. The sea wind blew harsher, brushing over my nipples with its chilled breath, touching my secret places with icy hands. Goose bumps rose on my flesh, while inside I burned.
I lifted one hand to him, and he knelt. "I have never...” he began.
“Nor I,” I whispered.
“We’ve been waiting then. For each other, I think.” He looked into my eyes, expecting my agreement, but I said nothing. “Dinna tell me you dinna believe it, Raven, for I know you do. I know you as I know myself...somehow. We were meant to be, you and I.”
“Perhaps,” I whispered, but I could tell him no more. To let myself believe in his romantic notions would only lead to heartbreak.
“I’ve been told it can be difficult for a woman, the first time.” He knelt beside me. His fingertips danced over my neck and my shoulders.
“Not for me, Duncan. Not with you.”
He kissed me again, so slowly, so deeply. “I’d nay harm you for the world, Raven.”
“You won’t.” My words came in breathless sighs now.
He nodded, bent to nibble my ear, taste my neck. “My best friend, he says ‘Tis easier if the woman is...made ready.”
I smiled, eager only to be on with it. I wanted him so much I could barely lie still. “How will you make me ready, Duncan? Rub me with sage like a turkey?”
Sitting back slightly, he looked at the nest between my legs, licked his lips. “Like this,” he whispered, and then he touched me there. Gently he parted my folds and put his fingers on me, and I drew a gasp as a bolt of pleasure shot through my loins. Slowly he rubbed, exploring, watching my face so intently I thought he was trying to read my thoughts. When he pressed inside me, I cried out in delight, and arched my hips off the ground. How I wanted him.
“You’ve made me ready, then,” I whispered.
“Oh, nay, lass. There is more my friend spoke of.”
He bowed over me, and kissed me between my legs like a worshiper kissing the feet of a goddess. He opened me with his fingers, and kissed me again, and I moaned. And then his tongue snaked out, licking me, darting at the tiny nub that seemed to be the core of my desire, and then plunging inside as if he would devour me whole. Tears filled my eyes at the intensity of what he did to me, and I moved against him, pressing closer, losing myself to utter physical sensation as he probed and licked and tasted every part of me. My hands clenched in his hair as the tension in me tightened unbearably. Finally he moved up my body, nipping at my breasts, and then suckling them hard, no longer gentle, but seeming aroused beyond the ability to be so.
He settled atop me. I was so alive with sensation that when I felt him pressing inside me, ‘twas as if lightning struck. I pressed my hands to his buttocks, gripping him tight, and I arched hard against him, to take him into me, all the way, all at once. There was a brief stab of pain, but I was so enraptured in pleasure that it felt good to me. Then he began to move, and I moved, too, sensing his needs, knowing his feelings as I knew my own. He fed at my mouth and my throat and my breasts by turns as he plunged himself into me again and again. He drove me nearer and nearer to something I’d never known. And finally the stars seemed to explode around me and I screamed his name, even as he pushed deeper than before and cried mine.
He held me, slowly relaxing in my arms, kissed my hair, my face, asked if I were all right, if he had hurt me.
“I am more than all right,” I told him, running my hands over the wonderful expanse of his back, his shoulders. So firm and hard to my touch. “I never knew, Duncan. I never understood...”
“Understand this, bonny Raven.” Framing my face with his hands, his directly above me, staring down with his heart in his eyes, he whispered, “I love you. I love you from the very depths of my soul. I would die for you, Raven St. James, an’ never regret it for a moment.”
I looked at him, guilt showing in my eyes, I think, when I bit my lip to keep from answering him in kind. The words bubbled up in my throat, but I refused to let them spill out.
“Nay, dinna look that way, my love. I know you dinna return my feelings, just yet. But you will, Raven. You will.”
Lowering my eyes to shield my true feelings from him, I shook my head. “I’ve given you all I have to give. My body. My virginity. And my promise, Duncan, that there will be no other man for me. Not ever.”
“Truly?”
I nodded. “I do not lie.”
“But canna quite trust me with the truth.”
“I told you I–”
“Nay. ‘Tis all right, Raven.” He stroked my hair, staring down at me with love pouring from his eyes and spilling over me like the very elixir of the gods. “I am too in love to complain, to demand. I lie at your feet like a cur dog, awaitin’ whatever crumbs drop from your fingers, and revelin’ should you bestow even a pat on the head. Whatever you give me, I will relish and cherish and return a thousandfold, lass. I vow it, until the day I die, I will love only you.” He lifted my hand, pressed his lips to my fingers. “And eventually, you’ll see that I’d sooner die than betray you. You’ll ken that you can trust me as you can no other. You’ll tell me all, my love, and you’ll grow to love me, too.”
I stared back at him, and wondered how he could miss what seemed to be bursting from my very soul, what must show in my eyes. I already did love him, too.
But if I told him the truth....
No, I couldn’t. I’d be putting him at risk by trusting him. He’d be stripped of his position, driven from the town or worse, arrested and tried as my accomplice. And yes, there was more. There was that selfish fear, that gnawing certainty inside me that he would stop loving me if he knew the truth.
I could never tell him. I could never risk that. What we had—what we shared between us—would have to be enough.
Though I could never say it aloud, I knew I loved him. I would always, always love him.
* * * *
Elias was waiting when Duncan made his way back to his cabin in town.
Duncan hadn’t realized it, of course. He’d been humming to himself, happier than he could remember being, but at the same time battling a sense of dread. He’d sinned. He knew that. He didn’t blame Raven for it, didn’t even regret it, really. But he did wonder how he could put on his robes tomorrow morn and go about the town folk acting as if he was still their spiritual leader. Their Christian guide. How could he? None of them was likely to have committed the sins he had this night. He’d be pretending, playing a role that was utterly false.
But how could it be wrong to love this way? When he felt the emotion bubbling up from some bottomless well within him. It didn’t feel sinful. It felt noble and pure and utterly right. It didn’t even feel new, but ancient, as if it had been a part of him from the time before time was, if such a thing were possible.
He stopped humming when he reached his door, as doubts crept into his mind once again. But when he stepped inside, a deep voice chased those doubts away.
“Whatever could have taken you so long, Reverend Wallace? You’ve been gone for hours.”
Duncan went stiff, searching the darkness and finally spotting Elias in the room’s only chair, near the dying fire. “You told me to observe the women,” he said. “So I did.”
“Surely they’re abed by now.”
“Of course they are.” Duncan walked to a table where a lamp sat and lit it, taking his time, setting the glass chimney in place with great care. Stalling as he sought an explanation in his mind.
“You remained out there, even after the women retired?” Elias asked, running short of patience, Duncan thought.
“Naturally,” he replied.
“But why?”
It came to him slowly, and that’s the way he spoke, slowly, carefully piecing the words together one by one. “
You...obviously know naught of witches, Elias.” He paced to the hearth, tossed a pair of logs atop the coals, since Stanton had apparently been too lazy to do so himself. The flames licked up at the wood, searing the bark black and seeking the meatier wood beneath it. “Their...rites are performed by night. Midnight bein’ the, ah, the Witchin’ Hour.”
“Ahhh, the Witching Hour.” Elias nodded, and his eyes took on an eager gleam in the lampglow and firelight. “And did they? Did they strip off their garments and dance naked beneath the moon at midnight? Did they kill a calf and drink its blood or mate with a goat possessed by their beastly master? Did they?”
Duncan’s stomach clenched. He felt ill. And he knew with unrelenting certainty that Raven would never do such things as those of which Stanton spoke. If she were a witch, then Stanton’s ideas about witches were pure fancy. There was something spiritual, something holy, about Raven St. James. He’d sensed it from the start.
“They did nothin’ of the sort,” he said very calmly. “They only slept.”
Elias rubbed his chin. “Perhaps they knew you were still lingering about. They can sense such things, can they not?”
Duncan shrugged. “Nay, not in a man of the doth,” he replied. Anything, any lie, to relieve the man of his notions. Elias Stanton was dangerous to Raven. Duncan knew it to his bones.
Elias nodded thoughtfully. “Then perhaps ‘twas simply not their night to practice their Pagan rites.”
Closing his eyes, Duncan lowered his head. “There was naught in the cabin to indicate–”
“You seem so certain, Reverend. Are you sure they didn’t bewitch you?”
He shook his head rapidly. “I’m quite sure of that, sir.”
“Hmm. Well, the situation bears watching. Just to be safe. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Did he have a choice? Nay. He’d already made Elias wary of him. He had to keep the man’s trust if he were to have any hope of protecting Raven from him. “I agree completely,” he said. “Rest assured, Elias, I will be keepin’ a very close eye on the goin’s on at that cabin on the cliffs. A very close eye.”
“Good.” Elias got to his feet. “I’ll let you get some rest, then. Good night.”
And he hurried out the door.
Had Elias believed a word Duncan had said to him? There was no way to be sure. Raven should leave this place. She should leave at once. And he would warn her of that. Should have done so tonight as he’d intended, but...well, her touch, her kisses, had chased everything else from his mind. Tomorrow. Aye. He’d warn her of the danger that lived here in Sanctuary for her. He’d warn her on the morrow.
* * * *
You have look of a woman well loved,” Arianna said just as she lunged forward and swept her dagger in a deadly arc that could easily have gutted me on the spot. She looked all innocence this morning, with the early sunlight gleaming from her cropped golden hair, and her slight frame and small stature. But she could be a deadly opponent. I’d seen that right away.
And a good friend. I’d come to love her very much in the short while she’d been with us. So much so that I hoped she would never decide to leave. ‘Twas as if I’d known her always, though that could not be possible.
“Perhaps there’s no need to tell you so...” She slashed at me again, nearly nicking me this time, but I danced backward just out of reach of the gleaming blade. “But I think it a poor idea.”
I thrust, she dodged. “Why?” I asked. “Is he not the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen, Arianna?”
“With perhaps one exception,” she said with a careless shrug. “But he’s also a man of the cloth.”
“Which means he’s in touch with the Almighty, just as we are.”
“Which means he believes witches should be put to death.”
I went still, and so did she. Our blades raised, our bodies poised in ready crouches, we paused to catch our breath, and to lock gazes as she awaited my reaction to her words.
“Duncan tried to prevent the hanging that killed my mother,” I said. “He’s not like the rest.”
“Can you be sure?”
I blinked, lowered my head. “I...yes, I’m sure.”
Arianna shrugged. “I am not,” she said. “And I’m equally doubtful of your judgment where he’s concerned. I suppose ‘tis lucky for you I’m here to watch out for you.” She slashed at me again, neatly slicing the fabric that covered my middle this time.
I jumped back. “Be careful, would you? You could have cut me!”
“And what would it matter?” Arianna asked with a grin. “You’re immortal. You would heal.”
“‘Twould hurt all the same,” I replied, scowling, but lifting my own dagger to waist height before thrusting it forward in a quick darting motion, drawing back just as quickly.
“Better I hurt you than your preacher man, Raven. I’ve a feeling you’d recover from the nick of my blade far more quickly than from a broken heart,” she said, and jumped sideways to avoid my blade. The act sent her off balance, and I leaped forward, shouldering her hard and sending her to the ground.
“Aha!” I shouted, and leaped on Arianna, straddling her middle, braced up on my knees. With one hand, I gripped Arianna’s wrist, immobilizing the dagger she still clutched, while my other hand held my own blade to my friend’s throat. “I have you now!”
Arianna yanked one of her legs out from beneath me, planted a foot on my chest, and shoved hard, all in the space of a heartbeat. As I went sprawling onto my back, Arianna bounced to her feet without using her hands.
“Overconfidence is the quickest path to defeat. Never underestimate the enemy.” Then she laughed. “That was good, though. You grow better every day.”
“It does not feel as if I do.”
“You do.” Arianna’s smile gentled. “You know I am only concerned for your safety, don’t you? If I did not care for you, I’d keep my opinions to myself.”
“I know, Arianna. I just happen to disagree.”
“You could get yourself hurt. You know that.”
She looked so sad, and I wondered if she spoke with the voice of experience. “I know,” I said. “But ‘tis worth the risk to have him, even for a little while.”
She held out a hand. I took it, and Arianna pulled me to my feet, then spun me around and held me fast, her blade at my throat. “I cannot believe,” she said close to my ear, laughter in her voice, “you fell for that one again.”
“Raven!”
‘Twas Duncan’s voice, startled and horrified. He came out of the nearby trees and into view, staring in utter terror at Arianna, her blade, my throat. “Let her go!”
Arianna glanced down into my eyes, her own sparkling with undisguised mirth. Then she looked at Duncan and shrugged. “Oh, all right. If you insist,” she said. She released me, and then she threw her blond head back and laughed in a voice that rang with the clarity of bells.
I couldn’t help it. I bent my head to hide it, but my shoulders shook as I, too, gave in to quiet laughter.
Poor Duncan only stood there, staring from one of us to the other in confusion. “I dinna ken. Raven, are you—”
“I’m fine, Duncan. Arianna and I were only...practicing.”
He frowned, looking me over from head to toe and frowning even harder. “You’re...you’re wearin’ breeches!”
“Being a man,” Arianna said, “you’ve likely never tried to fight in skirts, but I can tell you, Duncan, ‘tis no easy task.”
I sent her a quelling glance and sought a plausible explanation. “We’re learning to defend ourselves, Duncan. That is all. We’re unmarried women living alone in a small settlement. We simply feel it the wise thing to do.”
“The wise thing to do,” he countered, “would be to marry.”
The mirth fled me and regret replaced it in my heart “Please stop asking. You know I cannot.”
“You will, eventually.” He came closer. “So, will you show me the finer points of combat with blades?”
“If I did, then how
would I ever overpower you?” I asked.
“The same way you do now, my love, with a simple glance.”
I smiled as he came to me, wrapped me in his arms, and hugged me so tenderly I nearly cried.
“How did you find us, Duncan?” Arianna asked him, even now sliding her blade into its sheath. “We thought coming here the height of discretion.”
“Discretion is a fine idea,” he replied. “For if ‘twere someone besides me to see you both in breeches, fighting as if to the death, there would be scandal indeed in the streets of Sanctuary.” He lowered his head. “More so than there already is.” Then slowly he lifted it, met my eyes again. “Your aunt told me you’d gone walkin’ in the woods. Once I got near enough, I simply followed the sounds of battle.”
I smiled at that, but the smile he returned was a sad one.
“Something troubles you,” I said.
“Indeed. Elias Stanton suspects....” He slanted a worried glance toward Arianna, as if about to say something she shouldn’t overhear.
“Never fear,” she quipped. “I know exactly what that fool suspects. More than likely, he suspects me of the same things.”
“Aye, more than likely,” Duncan agreed. Then he gripped my hands in his. “You should leave this town, Raven. At once. I dinna believe ‘tis safe for you here.”
I sighed deeply.
“You knew this day would come, Raven. We’ve spoken of it,” Arianna said.
I nodded but met Duncan’s eyes. “I’ll not go. I’ll not pack up and move away from....” I bit my lip.
“From what?” he pressed, squeezing my hands.
Closing my eyes, I whispered, “From you, Duncan. I don’t want to leave you.”
Eternal Love: The Immortal Witch Series Page 12