A knock sounded at the door. Cailin scampered to answer it and the stout woman, whom the innkeeper had nodded to earlier, stood in the hall with a tray of two generously filled bowls of stew, a half-loaf of bread and a wide grin upon her face. “My husband tells me you two are famished!”
“You have married a very attentive man, mistress,” Cailin confirmed, returning the grin. “Please, come in.”
The innkeeper’s wife chuckled a merry sound and set the tray upon the small, square table before the hearth. A wee lass resembling the woman followed behind with an earthen pitcher and two mugs in her arms. She smiled her greeting through dirty cheeks framed with blonde braids that matched her mother’s.
“Thank you, Tenny,” the woman said, taking the load from the girl. “Now run along.”
“Aye, mum.” She nodded and ran from the room.
“Och! Dinna run like that, Tenny! Ye nearly knocked me down the stairs!” The innkeeper carried the promised tub and some drying cloths. Two young men followed behind, each carrying a pair of buckets.
Cailin stepped back in the suddenly crowded room and stood beside James, who observed their duties with a smirk on his handsome face.
“Careful now, lads,” the innkeeper instructed as the boys poured the steaming water into the tub. One by one, they all left the room with a smile and a nod.
Cailin closed the door behind them. “Finally, some peace.”
At last James took off his cloak, grunting as he did so. Cailin rushed to his side and tried to help him remove the garment.
“I can do this myself,” he growled.
“’Tis obvious you are in pain. If you will only—”
“I said I can take care of myself,” he snapped.
She struggled to keep her tears at bay. He was furious with her. She knew it. Even though necessity had forced him to hand the daggers to her himself, he must be angry she was—again—the exact opposite of what he wanted. Turning away because she could not stand to watch him grimace through his self-administrations, she searched the room for something to do. What could she do?
The drying cloths were neatly stacked on the stool by the tub. The food sat waiting for them to eat. She could pour the beverage! And she did, filling the mugs. Now what?
“Oh, if you must have something with which to occupy yourself,” James groaned, “you can get the cloths I brought for wounds. They’re in my saddlebags.”
Embarrassed her restless nature was so obvious, she cast her eyes down and pulled the saddlebags to the bed. Kneeling, she grabbed the said bandages. “Is this a salve?” She held up the jar she found.
He nodded.
She suppressed a grin when she saw he had also packed a spare change of clothes for her, including a sensible pair of slippers and a chemise. His groan drew her attention once more and she frowned. When she attempted to pull his bloodied shirt back to assess the wound, he shrugged off her attention.
Cailin stood and punched her fists onto her hips. “And just why did you tell them we were married if you did not want my help?”
“What?” He stared at her as if she’d sprouted a tail.
“I assume you told them I was your wife so we could be roomed together. Surely you were seeking some assistance.”
“I just trekked halfway across Scotland to rescue you from that monster. If you think I’m going to let you out of my sight for the sake of reputation, ’tis daft you are.”
“’Tis daft you are if you think I’m going to stand by and watch you tend to your own wounds.” Cailin ignored his scowl and scuffled about the room, using the hot water to clean the crusted blood from his skin. Half-covered, he created a tempting vision that forced her to divert her attention away many times so he would not catch her ogling him.
His gentle hand circled her wrist and their eyes met. “If you’re going to tend to my wounds, it would be wise to watch what you’re doing.” His roguish smile made her heart flutter.
She nodded and continued, but gasped when she uncovered his left shoulder, which was also bandaged. “James!” She jumped to her feet. “You have two wounds? But why didn’t you tell me you—”
“Cailin.” He glared a warning.
With a huff, she grumbled and snatched fresh bandages. After changing the soiled dressings from his shoulder and cleaning the last of his wounds, she fetched a clean shirt from his saddlebags. James mumbled his thanks, donned the garment and shuffled to the door.
“Where are you going?”
“To hire a courier.” He stepped into the hall. “I have to send a message to your family to let them know you’re safe.” His sea-green eyes, worn and half-lidded, searched her face. A tired grin turned up one corner of his mouth before he closed the door.
* * * * *
Broderick’s head whirled with exhaustion, fury and the jumble of words Malloren had thrown at him. “Woman, none of this makes any sense to me so you had better start over and leave out the useless details.”
Malloren breathed a heavy sigh and seated herself at the scroll table again. “The purpose of Davina’s soul is to complete the final milestone of the prophecy.”
“Now stop right there. What in Hades does that mean?”
She closed her eyes as if to brace herself for a blow. “The complete answer is unclear.”
“Sorceress, I vow—”
“Forgive me, but I am not given all the facts!” she shouted over his words. “All I know is Davina’s soul is the key to the end of this conflict between you and Angus Campbell, and thereby the key to the prophecy. If either of you dies before the final milestone can be completed, her soul will cease to exist because your conflict will no longer be giving her soul purpose.”
“What does God want with us?” He gathered enough strength to at last rise from the floor and lean on the table, glaring at her. “He plays with all our lives with no regard for our hearts. Is he not supposed to be a god of love?” He snorted in disgust.
“I know none of this is pleasant to hear—”
“An understatement, witch.”
She scowled in disapproval. “If you had been home when Angus abducted Cailin, you would have dueled with Angus and won…thereby destroying Davina’s soul.”
“Cailin? I thought you said he seized my family. Did he not also take Davina?”
She shook her head. “I received a vision while we were conversing. James was a good choice as her husband. She is now safe with him.”
Broderick flopped into the chair across from Malloren. “Thank G—” He stopped himself. God has nothing to do with her safety. He glared at the ceiling, imagining the clouds through the layers of stone and earth. I am not finished with you yet. “Both Davina and Cailin are safe, say you?”
Malloren nodded.
He rested a moment, his head in his hands, grateful his loved ones were out of danger. Raising his head, he asked, “What happens if Davina dies before the final milestone is complete?” Broderick waited, his breath stuck in his chest.
“I honestly don’t know. There is nothing I have read or visions I have seen that indicate disaster.”
“How is that possible if she is the final milestone?”
She sighed and slouched in defeat. “I told you, I don’t know.”
They both brewed in silence before he rose. “I must leave to feed and regain my strength.”
She nodded and recited the incantation to bring down the wall. The oppressive atmosphere lifted. “I believe you know the way out.” She rose from the chair and padded up the stairs to the door opposite the one Broderick would exit. “You should stay here one more day. Sunrise is almost upon us. You will have difficulty finding shelter elsewhere.” She pivoted on her heel and disappeared through the doorway.
Broderick shook his head and clenched his jaw as he glared heavenward. “I swear to you, we are not yet finished.”
Chapter Ten
Using the water, salve and cloths, Cailin tended to her own minor cuts and abrasions, most of them on her arms…grumblin
g throughout her task over her insufferable betrothed. She cleaned up after herself, set the tiny room to rights as much as possible and waited by the hearth for James to return. The bowl of stew for James grew cold, so she dumped the contents into the cast-iron pot hanging by the fire and swung it near enough to the flames to keep it warm without risking it burning. She rested her chin in her palm, her fingers tapping her cheek.
Eyeing the warm water and cloths, she considered taking a bath. She glanced at the door, then at the tub and back to the door. Throwing her chin forward in defiance, she disrobed with shaking fingers. If he discovers me nude while I cleanse…well, it would serve him right for being gone so long. Her sex clenched at the thought. She raised her foot to step into the hot water and stopped, glancing over her shoulder at the entrance again. Exasperated with her cowardice, she stomped to the door and slammed the bolt in place. With a huff of defiance, she returned and stepped into the basin, wincing at the heat against her tender feet. The soothing water eased some of the tension from her body and she sighed.
A soap cake lay on the drying cloths. Taking advantage of this opportunity, she washed the grime and uneasiness from her weary form. She would reapply the salve when finished. Before leaving the tub, she removed the ribbon from her hair and submerged her head and long auburn locks into the water. Rising to her feet, she wrung her tresses, the patter of water droplets mixing with the crackling of the fire.
The door burst open and James stood with his fists clenched at his sides, his legs in a wide, low stance, ready to do battle. The snarl on his face melted into astonishment when his eyes settled on Cailin…and traveled down her naked, wet body. She snatched the cloths on the stool, attempting to cover herself.
James gawked a long moment before he spoke. “God’s blood, Mouse! What are you doing?”
He dashed inside the room and closed the door, turning his back to her. A furious knocking accompanied by protests sounded from the hall. James reached into the sporran at his waist, cracked the door and shoved his hand through the entry. “My apologies, master innkeeper. This should cover the damages. All is well.”
He slammed the door and shoved a chair in front of it, apparently using that in place of the bolt he’d just dislodged with his dramatic entrance.
“What are you doing?” Cailin demanded, scampering to the saddlebags to get to her fresh chemise.
Still facing away from her, he paced in front of the hearth. “I knocked but you didn’t answer. I thought…well, I thought someone had...” He growled. “Why did you lock the door?”
“Obviously, so I could bathe in privacy!” She fumbled with her undergarment and managed to pull it over her damp skin, grumbling and cursing at the uncooperative material. Shoving her feet into her slippers, she began plaiting her wet hair and stomped to the door, her gown tucked under her arm.
James grabbed her shoulders and faced her. “Where are you going?”
“I need a few moments to myself. I shall speak with the innkeeper’s wife and make amends.” She tried to shove him away from her, but he held tight.
“Oh, no you don’t! How do you expect us to resolve our differences if you keep running each time we quarrel?”
Cailin gasped and struggled to break free. “I’m not running! I-I’m trying to contain my temper, which I cannot seem to do around you!” She still could not wrest herself from his grip.
“Control your—” He exhaled in exasperation. “Why are you trying to control it? I want it! ’Tis better than what you have been doing. What are you afraid of?”
She ceased struggling and barked in his face. “You and your mockery of who I am! Just let us go back and end this farce of a betrothal so you can be free to find the woman you want!”
“And just what kind of woman is that?”
“You stated it plainly when I told you how much I had changed!”
There was that expression again, as if she’d grown an additional appendage. “Stated what plainly?”
“You said I wasn’t what you were expecting.”
“That is an understatement, my lady!”
Cailin opened her mouth to gloat, but James jumped on her words.
“I also said you’re not what you pretend to be. You’re atrocious at embroidery, which you claim to do often, and you try to hide the fact that you fight better than most men I know!”
“Precisely! What kind of man desires such a woman as that?”
James tipped his head back, hearty laughter pouring from his mouth.
The rush of shame and humiliation to her face blurred her vision and she struggled to see through the onslaught of tears. How could he be so openly cruel? Sobs choked her and she whirled to struggle with the chair blocking her escape.
James seized her by the arms, dragged her across the room and threw her to the bed. Before she could rise and make a dash for the door, his body covered hers. Her arms flailed and struck his shoulder, causing him to snatch her hands above her head as he buried his face in the mattress to stifle a roar of pain.
Through labored breaths, he managed to still her legs with his own, imprison her wrists with one hand and grab her face with the other, forcing her to face him. “Why are you pushing me away?”
“Release me, James! I cannot bear this empty promise of a union with you. We will go back to Leith and finally settle the matter and you can be done with me.”
“What have I done to make you think this, Mouse?” Accusations gone from his voice, James’s eyes implored Cailin to near tears. “Was there something I said to hurt you in one of my letters? Whatever it is, tell me. I will move the earth to prove my lo—”
“Nay, James!” Cailin squeezed her eyes shut. “’Tis nothing you did. I…just…please let me go.” Sobbing, she fought the memories clanging against her resolve.
The tender, seeking lips of her betrothed invaded her nightmarish thoughts. Though she held firm against him, he teased and caressed, his tongue traced her mouth and lapped away her tears…and his voice entranced and sapped the fight from her bones.
“Shhh, Mouse.” He suckled her bottom lip with warmth. “Relax, m’dove.” He nibbled her chin. “Look at me, Mouse.”
She kept her eyes shut against his sweet words and could bare his kindness no more. Trying to dislodge his hold on her, she wriggled beneath him, sorrow almost choking her with sobs.
“Cailin.” James held tight but she still fought him. “Cailin!”
“Let me go,” she ground out through clenched teeth.
“Not until you tell me what’s warring inside your heart.”
He wouldn’t release her. She was a fool to think she could bury the truth in the darkness from him, from herself. She blinked through her tears and gazed at the compassion in his sparkling jade eyes. The kindness would turn to cold stone once he knew, but where could she hide? The words rushed out in a whisper. “I killed a man, James.”
He gasped. Just a small intake of breath, but enough to suck the life from her soul. I’ve lost him.
She renewed her struggles but continued to gain no purchase against him.
James pressed his palms firmly to her cheeks. “You listen to me, Cailin MacDougal.”
She calmed and braced herself for his chastisement. But he did not hold judgment or conviction in his eyes. How can this be? They radiated warmth, understanding and, sweet lord in heaven, unconditional love. His finger traced her mouth, open with awe. “The fact that you are burdened with such guilt and remorse proves to me you are not the vicious woman you must think yourself to be.”
“Nay, you don’t understand. I took this man’s life without even blinking.”
“How is that possible?” Was that doubt in his eyes? Did he think she was lying?
She trembled at the memories of her dagger sinking into the man’s chest. Echoes from the past. She struggled to banish the sensation of his warm blood flowing over her hand and spurting against her face, the coppery taste of his life in her mouth even now.
She swallowed over
the lump in her throat. “It happened so quickly.” She bit her lip and diverted her attention to James’s shoulder, focusing on the blood-stained bandages, anything but his face. “Only after he lay slumped on the ground before me, did I realize how quickly everything transpired. He grabbed me from behind. Like the wind, I slipped my daggers from their sheaths as I spun around. One blade…sliced his throat. The other buried in his chest.” She fought the sobs so she could finish. “His hand clutched my breast, ripping my gown as he fell to the ground.” A half-laugh, half-moan warbled from her mouth and she whispered, “Da wrapped me in his arms and ran.” She gathered the courage to endure his judgment. Deep breath.
He searched her face with pinched brows and a glassy gaze.
“Why do you look at me so?”
“Because I know your pain, Mouse.” He inhaled slowly and pressed his lips to her temple. “This is a cruel world and I…also had my hand forced in self-defense.”
“See, you don’t understand. I am a mindless killer. All the man had to do was reach for me and—”
“How did you learn to fight with blades?”
“My father, but you can’t blame him. I insisted he teach me.”
“But why?”
He asked for answers he already knew, so Cailin pondered his questions. “Be…because of Angus. Because I felt so helpless when he had kidnapped my mother and I.”
James frowned. “Can you not grasp the truth in this? The threat on your family forced your hand. I know what it’s like to feel defenseless. But I also know the courage a blade seated in your palm can give, and I don’t blame you one bit for wanting that.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but he placed a finger on her lips.
“When one is instructed the way I know your father has trained you, thinking is not an option. Life is decided in a matter of seconds and I, for one, am glad it was you who prevailed.” He brushed a tear from her cheek with his thumb. “Do you really want to know what kind of man desires a woman such as you?” The corner of his mouth turned up in the wolfish grin that always set her insides to quivering. “I am. I am exactly the kind of man who needs a woman such as you.”
MIDNIGHT CAPTIVE: Book 2 of the Bonded By Blood Vampire Chronicles Page 18