Her husband.
Was this part of falling in love? Finding peace and solace with your mate?
“Are you all right?” Trey asked.
Concern was heavy in his voice, and his hands remained on her waist, as if he had no intention of letting go until he was certain she was well. She loved that he cared and worried over her and that he would always see her safe . . . another wonderful part of falling in love.
Bliss smiled. “I am fine, and it is time for me to see how the injured are doing.”
“And I must go hunt.”
Her smile suddenly faded, and she grabbed his arm, squeezing it. “We must leave no later than tomorrow morning.”
“Do you see more troops headed this way?”
She shook her head. “A band of mercenaries.”
“To join with the king’s troops?”
She nodded, then shook her head. “Yes and no . . . I’m not sure. But I don’t want to take the chance of placing these injured men in more danger.”
“Agreed,” he said. “I’ll tell Burnell we must make ready for early departure on the morrow. Do what you can to prepare the injured.”
He gave her a quick kiss and took off. It dawned on her how often he kissed her that way, as if it was the most natural thing for him to do, as if he was her true husband. She had no time to linger on the thought, too much to do, but she could not help but think how lovely it was to have a loving husband.
The sun that had risen bright and bold was later devoured by heavy clouds and crisper air. Bliss intended to tell Trey that another fire was necessary to help keep the men warm. She wasn’t surprised when he built one without her having said a word. They thought much alike, or perhaps he was more attuned to her thoughts than either of them realized.
The day wore on, with Bliss busy attempting to heal the more serious injuries enough so that they would not worsen with travel. She knew her zealous efforts would leave her tired, but with a bit of rest, she would feel refreshed soon enough.
Bliss barely had time to exchange even a few words with Trey throughout the day though he sent a smile her way often enough.
By nightfall, all in the camp were exhausted, and after the food was eagerly eaten, the men drifted off to sleep, all except Trey. He had the first watch.
Bliss lay next to the fire, her cloak and blanket wrapped tightly around her. She missed Trey’s warmth, his solid embrace, and his hard chest, which so often pillowed her head. She had grown accustomed to sleeping beside him, snuggled in his arms. And she could not imagine ever sleeping alone again.
He had in a short time become necessary to her, and though the thought caused a moment of fear, it also brought pleasure. To think that he would keep her warm, love her, and grow old with her filled her with joy.
But would he? Or was this a momentary episode created by fate. But for what purpose?
It had been much easier to accept fate’s ways when she was alone, but not so now that there was Trey. She would miss him terribly if they were to part.
She shook her head, not wanting even to imagine the possibility. The hurt would be . . .
How had Trey ever survived losing the woman he loved? Just the thought of Trey’s parting wrenched at her heart. She had felt a mere moment of his horrific pain when he had told her about Leora’s death. And while her pain ceased with the telling of the tale, his had not.
It continued to linger with him, along with memories, some good and some unbearable.
She would be asked on occasion to help heal the bereaved, and sadly, she always had to refuse. Her grandmum had taught her that only time and the love of family and friends could help them.
Bliss stood taking the blanket with her and went to where Trey sat just on the outskirts of the campsite.
“Your steps are so light I barely hear them,” Trey said, as she approached.
She plopped down beside him, threw the blanket around them, and cuddled close. “My intentions were not to surprise you but to seek warmth.”
His arm went around her waist and drew her closer. “Truth be told, I wouldn’t mind some myself.”
She slipped her arms around his waist and rested her head to his shoulder. “Then you don’t mind if I stay here with you?”
“I’m glad you’re here, though I must keep alert to my post.”
“I did not come to seduce you,” she said with a soft laugh.
“You can seduce me any other time you would like to,” he encouraged with a squeeze to her side.
She laughed again. “I’ve had no experience at seduction and wouldn’t know where to start.”
“You seduce me every time you look at me.”
She lifted her head from his chest and stared at him bewildered. “I do?”
“Aye, you do. Your eyes need only settle on me, and I’m thinking things that . . . distract me.”
She chuckled. “Such power. What will I do with it?”
“Nothing at the moment, though feel free any other time,” he said. “Right now I’d prefer we sit quiet so that I can listen for unwanted company.”
Bliss understood, for passion was beginning to stir within her, the knowledge that she had the power to excite him so easily excited her; but he was right—now was not the time.
She rested her head to his shoulder once again, and he tucked the blanket more firmly around them. The night had turned cold, but she was snug in his warmth. She listened along with him to the silence. Nothing seemed to stir tonight; the forest was at peace. And so was she.
It wasn’t long before her eyes drifted closed, and she fell asleep.
Bliss woke with a start and sat up abruptly.
Trey jolted up beside her. “What’s wrong?”
It took a moment for her to realize that they were in front of the campfire. Last she remembered . . . she cocked her head and stared at him.
“I carried you here after Burnell took over guard duty.”
She had slept soundly and without dreams, unusual for her, but a sudden sensing had woken her. “We must get the men ready to leave at first light.”
“What’s wrong?” Trey asked, standing along with her.
“If we wait too long to leave, our paths will cross. If we leave as light breaks on the land, we have no chance of crossing paths.”
Trey nodded and went to work rousing the men. Once told their sunrise departure was necessary to avoid confrontation with mercenaries, the men got busy. Carriers had been fashioned the day before for two men who were too seriously injured to walk.
When the glow of the rising sun was seen on the horizon, the group departed. Bliss led the way, knowing that certain areas had to be avoided. It was a strenuous morning for all. The men, though weakened by their plight, remained determined by the chance to see their loved ones again.
It was late afternoon when they came to the area where it was necessary for Bliss and Trey to part ways from the group of farmers.
Burnell stepped forward. “We are grateful and in your debt for all you have done.”
“Arrive at my home safely, and your debt is paid,” Trey said with a smile and a firm handshake.
Bliss shook her head. “It is too long a trip not only for those more seriously wounded, but the others who begin to heal. You will need to stop and rest at least two days, and I know the perfect place where you will find help. You will stop and rest with my people . . . the Picts.”
Burnell turned a doubtful glance to Trey.
“I have met the Picts. They are good people and will welcome you.”
“Aye, they will,” Bliss said, and reached for Burnell’s hand, turning it palm up. “Sentinels guard our land. When one approaches, you tell him you have a message from Bliss, their healer. He will hold out his hand and you will draw this symbol on it with your thumb.” Bliss drew a cross and pressed her thumb in the center. “He will then he
lp you.”
Burnell nodded and once again thanked them, as did the others who filed past them as the small band of farmers continued on.
When the last one had disappeared from sight, Bliss turned to Trey ready to continue their journey to see how Philip fared.
“Something wrong?” she asked when he saw how strangely he stared at her.
“The symbol you drew. Draw it for me,” he said, and held out his hand.
Bliss obliged, drawing a cross and pressing her thumb in the center.
“What does this symbol mean?”
“It is a symbol my people use to let our kind know that it is safe to trust the one who knows it.”
“There are no words that accompany it?”
“A Pict will sometimes attach a message to it,” she said.
“How do you know the message is from a Pict? Couldn’t an outsider who knows the symbol also add a message?”
“The Picts deliver their message in a special way that is never discussed with outsiders.”
“So if I asked you to explain—”
Bliss shook her head. “I couldn’t.”
“What if I recited a message that accompanied that symbol? Could you tell me if it was sent by a Pict?”
“That I could do.”
“Good,” Trey said with a nod. “The message was ‘When two are one, it will be done.’ ”
“Aye,” Bliss said with a smile, “the message was from a Pict.”
Trey looked shocked. “Mercy’s mother gave her that message, which means—”
“Mercy is part Pict. You did not know that?”
“You did?”
“Of course, as soon as I met her I knew,” Bliss said. “Besides, I know Mercy’s grandmum. She’s Dolca, the woman who is in need of healing.”
Chapter 14
Trey didn’t move, even though Bliss started walking. He couldn’t believe what he had heard. It had stunned him to see Bliss draw the symbol that Mercy’s mother had drawn on her hand before they had parted and her mother had died. And it had shocked him even more to learn that Mercy’s mother had been a Pict.
Could that have some connection as to why Mercy’s mother had been in possession of the piece of hide, symbols on it that made reference to the true king’s birthright? And there was still the burning question . . . who had stolen the hide from the keep and given it to Mercy’s mother.
“Are you coming with me?” Bliss called out.
Trey shook his head, confused, and hurried to catch up with her.
“The answers you seek will come in their own time,” Bliss said, when he caught up to walk alongside her.
He was about to ask her if she already knew the answers but held his tongue instead. If there was something she could share with him, she would. And he couldn’t continue to constantly seek answers from her like everyone else.
He would be the one to give to her, not constantly take.
He did, however, say, “Dolca must be Mercy’s father’s mother, since Duncan made mention of Mercy’s mother’s mother being dead for some time now.”
“Aye, you’re right.”
Trey hoped to learn more, but Bliss spoke before he could.
“You will meet Dolca when we reach my village. I am sure she would be happy to satisfy your curiosity”
“Does that mean you do not wish to say any more on this matter?”
“You have not reached for my hand since joining me,” she said. “This news you have learned has upset you.”
Trey had not even realized he had failed to take her hand. It had become an instinctive reaction when walking beside her to reach for her hand. But his mind had been so focused on what he had inadvertently discovered that he hadn’t even thought of holding her hand.
She took his hand before he could rectify the matter, and he was glad she did. Her hand joined tightly with his, as if letting him know that she didn’t intend to let go, and that was fine with him.
“What questions can I answer for you that will help ease your troubled thoughts?” she asked.
He had so many that he didn’t know where to begin or what was relevant. Until he finally said, “Mercy will be pleased to have found her grandmother, and Duncan will be pleased for her.”
Bliss grinned. “Aye, that is the most important thing of all . . . family reuniting. Just think of what Mercy will learn about her family.”
And think of what secrets he and his brothers might learn from it.
“No more questions?” Bliss asked, Trey having remained silent.
“Not at the moment,” he said, though there was a burning question that he wished answered, but he kept it to himself. “With so many soldiers in the area, it’s wiser that we remain alert. We should reach Albert and Teresa’s farm tomorrow by midmorning if we keep a good pace.”
They walked in silence for several minutes before Bliss finally spoke. “Ask the question that torments you.”
Trey shook his head. “Are you forever in my thoughts?”
“Perhaps it is you who is in my head, for I hear only the most persistent ones.”
“I have no such powers like yours.”
“Not so. I believe many people have the ability; they simply do not pay heed to it.”
He was about to disagree, but her words stopped him.
“That matters not right now. My concern is that something troubles you, and I wish to help ease your burden.”
Leora was not as thoughtful as Bliss.
The unexpected thought stunned him, for he had always assumed that any woman would pale in comparison to Leora. And he suddenly realized that simply was not so. It seemed that his concerns were Bliss’s concerns. She not only worried along with him, she offered to help ease his worries.
Leora had often told him that he could talk with her about anything, even his missions, if he wished. She would not betray his trust, but he never did. He would never take the chance of putting the true king in harm’s way. And she had never realized when his thoughts troubled him though she had been quick to share whatever troubled her, and frequently.
This time spent with Bliss had him seeing Leora differently. Not that it changed his love for her, but it made him see that perhaps she wasn’t the perfect woman he had thought her to be.
He realized then that Bliss could be hearing his thoughts, but she had said that it was the most persistent ones she heard, and this thought was new. It worried him that his thoughts were so available to her.
“I hear nothing at the moment if that is what concerns you,” she said.
And it concerned him even more that she should say that as he thought it. She had been nothing but honest with him, and so it was his decision whether to trust her word or not.
He didn’t hesitate; he trusted her. “I do have a concern.”
“Tell me.”
Again he didn’t hesitate. “Do you know the identity of the true king?”
She didn’t hesitate as well. “I do.”
Trey felt a burden descend on him like never before.
“You worry that if I should be captured I would reveal his identity, leaving him vulnerable,” she said.
Damn, if she didn’t know his very thought.
Bliss stopped and stood in front of him. “I have known the true king’s identity for some time. I have never spoken of it to a soul, and I have no intention of ever revealing it—under any circumstances.”
“Torture can reveal truths as well as lies,” Trey said.
She smiled. “I am a seer and therefore what I say is taken as my word.”
Trey chuckled. “Are you telling me you would lie?”
“I would do what I must to protect the true king, for I know he will keep my people safe.”
Trey caught her chin with his fingers. “It is a heavy burden you carry.”
“You carry it as well.”
He shook his head. “It is different.”
“Why?”
He stared at her a moment as if the answer was obvious. He was a man who could defend himself; she was a woman who . . . knew more than most.
He grinned, leaned down, and kissed her before whispering, “You best me more often than not.”
It was her turn to chuckle. “It is easy to do.”
His arm snaked around her waist and pulled her close. “Be careful, woman, or the warrior in me will rise to defend.”
“Promise?” she said, pressing her cool cheek to his.
“You tempt fate.”
“Fate drew us together, so I but give her what she wants.”
“She wants me to kiss you,” Trey whispered, his lips almost touching hers.
“My thoughts, not fate’s,” she murmured, and kissed him.
Their kiss was hungrier than usual . . . hungry for more than just a kiss. It stole the breath and ignited passion that lay so close to the surface.
Arms wrapped around each other, bodies drew near, and hands touched places that neither objected to. It was an aching frenzy that drove them until finally a sound of footfalls intruded, and they broke apart, Trey shoving her behind him and drawing his sword from its sheath, ready to defend.
A hare sat a few feet away, staring at them with wide, round eyes, and, with a twitch of its nose, it hurriedly hopped away.
Trey returned his sword to his sheath and turned to take Bliss’s hand. “We need to be on our way as much as I’d prefer not to.”
She held his hand and walked alongside him in silence, and he wondered why. Usually, she would have a comment or at least a smile, but, instead, she appeared deep in thought. What was she thinking? Could he possibly sneak into her thoughts?
It was as if a bolt of lightning struck him.
She wanted to make love with me.
The thought actually turned him hard, and he silently swore. Damn if he didn’t want the same, and to know that she was willing only made him harder. He’d love to throw a blanket on the ground and consummate their vows here and now, but it was not a good time or place.
Danger could lurk at any turn, and he had to keep her safe. Making love to her might satisfy his lust, but it would do little to protect her. Besides, it wasn’t lust he was looking to satisfy, and that was something he himself had to understand. He wanted more from Bliss and their unusual union.
Wed to a Highland Warrior Page 11