by Connie Mason
“I’ll explain while you help me undress.”
“Ye healed someone,” Alyce guessed as she removed Blair’s dress and helped her into bed.
In a few succinct words, Blair told Alyce what had happened. “Graeme is going to tell Glenda’s family that she walked too close to the edge of the cliff and the ground crumbled beneath her feet.”
“ ’Tis just as well,” Alyce concurred. “No need for them to know that their daughter was a murderess. Tell me about the laird’s injury. How serious was it?”
“ ’Twas verra bad, Alyce. The bones in his right leg were broken in numerous places and his flesh was badly lacerated. At the verra least he would have lost a limb. ’Twas more likely he would have died from the amputation.”
“No wonder ye’re done in,” Alyce said, clucking her tongue. “Ye have a bairn growing inside you to think about. If ye can heal a mortal wound such as ye described, there is naught ye canna do, but yer health must come first.”
Blair sighed. “You dinna have to worry about me using my powers again, even if I wasna carrying a bairn. Graeme has forbidden it. He fears that someone will accuse me of witchcraft and the king will act upon it. King James seems determined to stamp out witchcraft.”
“But ye’re no witch,” Alyce reminded her.
“To superstitious Scotsmen, Faery Woman and witch are one and the same.”
“Then I pray an occasion willna arise where ye are challenged to use yer powers to heal. I know ye, lass. Ye canna let a mon or woman die when ’tis within yer power to save him or her.” She tucked the blanket around Blair and closed the shutters to darken the room. “Does Graeme know about his bairn?”
“Not yet. I intended to tell him today but didna have the chance. Soon,” she said sleepily. “I’ll tell him soon.”
“Sleep, lass. Ye need to rest and restore yerself. I’ll make sure ye’re not disturbed.”
Blair was asleep before Alyce finished her sentence. Smiling, Alyce tiptoed from the chamber, leaving Blair to slumber in peace.
Blair’s sleep was not peaceful, however. Disturbing dreams visited her. She saw herself in the midst of a controversy. Fingers were pointed at her and voices were raised in accusation. Among her chief accusers were Niall and MacKay. She knew the king was in her dream, for she felt his royal presence. Suddenly the crowd turned ugly and she was dragged off, screaming her innocence.
Where was Graeme? Why wasn’t he defending her?
Then the spirits spoke to her.
“They mean you harm. You must protect yourself and your child.”
“How?”
Silence.
“Please. Tell me what I must do?”
Though she tried to keep the spirits from leaving, Blair felt nothing but emptiness. The voices were silent. Then her brain shut down as she slipped into a deep sleep.
Graeme returned from the village in a strange mood. While Glenda’s parents hadn’t been able to understand how their daughter could have been so careless, they accepted Graeme’s explanation. He hadn’t wanted to lie, but he knew the truth would hurt them even more than his fabrication.
“Ye look like ye could use a wee drop of whiskey,” Stuart said when Graeme crossed the hall to join him. “Yer errand couldna have been easy.”
“ ’Twas more difficult than you can imagine,” Graeme allowed as he accepted the glass of whiskey Stuart offered. “Especially since what I told Glenda’s parents was a lie.”
“I knew there was more to it than ye let on. Care to share it with yer uncle?”
Graeme took a sip of whiskey while he considered his answer. Perhaps, he thought, it would be best not to tell anyone what had happened today. He did not want talk of the miracle to spread, and the best way to ensure silence was to tell no one. “ ’Tis best you dinna ken what happened,” he said at length.
“Mayhap,” Stuart grumbled, sounding not at all convinced he shouldn’t know. “Is yer lass all right? She looked a mite peaked when ye carried her in. Think ye she is increasing?”
Graeme paused with the glass to his lips, then carefully set it down. “I dinna know. Alyce hinted as much, but Blair has said naught to me.”
“Ah, well, time will tell,” Stuart said, toasting Graeme with his glass. “What think ye the king will do? We should be hearing from him soon.”
“If there is a God, the king will restore my marriage and I will join him in Hawick with two hundred armed men. If you will excuse me, Uncle, I think I’ll go up to see how my wife is faring.”
Graeme climbed the stairs to the solar and quietly entered the bedchamber. Blair was still sleeping, so he settled into a chair to watch her. He never tired of looking at her. Faery Woman or nay, her delicate beauty had mesmerized him from the very beginning. With her golden hair spread out upon the pillow and her face in repose, she could have been an angel come to earth.
That thought brought another. Blair was as close to an angel as any mortal woman could get. She was everything that was good and pure. No matter how much pain she felt when she used her powers, or how weak the healing left her, she thought not of herself but of others. That a woman like Blair could love him was a miracle in itself. ’Twas no wonder he had fallen in love with her.
He thought about Joan the Maid and his infatuation with her, aware now that he had been captivated by her goodness, her piety and her religious conviction. What he had felt for her had never been love, he realized. He recalled the horror of her death and felt a jolt of panic. He couldn’t, wouldn’t allow that to happen to Blair. Blair must never use her magical healing powers again.
“Graeme? What are you doing?”
Graeme shrugged off his apprehension and smiled at Blair. “Watching you sleep. You’re so beautiful. I love you verra, verra much.”
Blair reached for him. “Come lie beside me.”
Graeme joined her on the bed; she turned into his arms. “Today didna go exactly as I planned,” he said. “I wanted to make love to you on the ground beneath the sun, with heather for our pillow.”
“Make love to me now,” Blair whispered.
“Nay, love, you’re still too weak. Dinna fret, we have a lifetime of making love ahead of us.”
“If the king allows it.”
“King be damned,” Graeme cursed. “We will be together. Have you considered my request?”
“What request is that?”
“You know perfectly well what I mean. I canna lose you. You must never use magical powers again”—he grinned suggestively—“except in bed.”
“Making love with you is always magical. Dinna fret, my love, you willna lose me. We are fated to be together. You came to me in my visions long before we met.”
“I dinna ken how that is possible, but if you say ’tis true, then I believe you.” He started to rise. “Go back to sleep. I didna mean to awaken you.”
Blair sighed. “Mayhap I’ll rest a bit longer. Let’s dine alone in our chamber tonight. I have something to tell you.”
“I’ll see to everything,” Graeme answered, grinning. Did Blair intend to tell him about their bairn?
He kissed her lightly on the lips and took his leave.
Blair smiled and snuggled down into the warm bed. For a brief moment she had forgotten her dream. Nothing mattered but the comforting knowledge that Graeme loved her as much as she loved him, and that she carried his child beneath her heart. With that reassuring thought, she drifted off to sleep.
Chapter Nineteen
Graeme awoke the following morning in the best of moods. He and Blair had shared an intimate meal beside the hearth in their bedchamber and made love afterward. Their lovemaking had reaffirmed their commitment to one another despite their uncertain future.
As Graeme eased out of bed to ready himself for the day, he couldn’t stop smiling. Blair had told him about the baby she was carrying. His baby. His heir.
He was still smiling when he strode into the hall a short time later. He saw Stuart and Alyce sitting side by side at a table and
chose not to disturb them. Instead he joined Heath.
“Good morrow,” Heath greeted. “Ye look exceedingly happy this morning. Do we have Blair to thank for that?”
Graeme wanted to tell his cousin about the baby but decided against it. The state of his marriage and the fate of the child depended upon the king’s goodwill.
“Blair is an amazing woman,” Graeme said. “No matter what the king decides, I will never forsake her. She is mine.”
Heath grinned. “Ye are a determined mon, Graeme, but I canna blame ye. My opinion of Blair has changed. She is gentle and caring; we all appreciate her healing skills.”
Graeme agreed wholeheartedly as he concentrated on his porridge and bannocks, wishing himself still in bed with his fetching wife. Graeme was spooning porridge into his mouth when Aiden rushed into the hall.
“Fergus has returned from Hawick, laird.”
Graeme shot from his chair as Fergus strode into the hall. “Do you bring word from the king?”
“Aye, laird.” He removed a folded document from his sporran and handed it to Graeme. Graeme read the message bearing the royal seal twice before asking, “Why is the king coming to Stonehaven? How long before I can expect him?”
Fergus shifted from foot to foot, clearly uncomfortable. “He’s but two days behind me. First, let me say there will be no war with the English. MacArthur and MacKay were the only Highland lairds who showed up at Hawick to support the king. James was furious. He was forced to negotiate with the English for more time to pay his ransom.”
Graeme grunted. “That still doesna explain why James is coming to Stonehaven. Does he want money from me? Did he say naught about my marriage?”
“Ye havena heard the worst of it yet,” Fergus said.
“Speak, man. Should I fear the king’s visit?”
“Aye. MacArthur and MacKay accused yer lady of witchcraft. The king intends to investigate the charges.”
“God in heaven!” Graeme exclaimed. “The king is coming to investigate my wife at the urging of MacArthur and MacKay? I will kill them.”
“Who is it you are going to kill?” Blair asked as she glided into the hall. “Oh,” she exclaimed when she saw Fergus. “Your messenger has returned.” She placed her hand in Graeme’s. “What has the king decided about our marriage?”
Graeme dismissed Fergus and guided Blair away from the others. “The news isna what either of us expected, love.”
“Tell me.”
Graeme led her to a chair and urged her to sit. Then he fell to one knee before her, his expression deeply troubled. “The king is coming to Stonehaven.”
“Whatever for? What about the war?”
“James negotiated for more time in which to pay his ransom, so there will be no war.”
“There’s more to it than that,” Blair said, recalling her dream. Her vision had warned of danger, and now she was about to find out what form it would take.
“This isna easy to say, love, but you have been betrayed.”
Blair froze. “By whom?”
“Your brother and the MacKay. They’ve accused you of witchcraft. The king is coming to investigate the charges himself.”
The color leeched from Blair’s face. Clasping her hands together, she closed her eyes and tried to ‘see’ her fate, but as often happened, her fate remained a mystery to her. Was her life to be snuffed out in a blaze of fire? The spirits had told her that Graeme could save her. How?
Concern wrinkled Graeme’s brow. “Are you all right, love? Dinna fear, I willna let anything happen to you. This I vow.”
“Dinna promise what you canna deliver,” Blair whispered. “The king will have his way.” Her hands fluttered to her stomach, where her baby rested beneath her heart. Would her baby live to see the light of day?
“Our bairn will survive,” Graeme said fiercely. “Neither of you will perish. Trust me.”
Blair wanted to believe him, but despair was a terrible burden. While she strived to present a calm facade so as not to worry Graeme, she was dying inside.
“I know you have duties,” she said. “Dinna worry about me. I will be fine.”
“There are indeed things I must do to prepare for the king’s visit,” Graeme reluctantly admitted. “I’ll get Alyce to stay with you. You’re too upset to be alone.”
He left her then, pausing to speak to Alyce on his way out. Blair saw Alyce turn pale before she rose and hurried over to join her.
“Ah, lass, the laird just told me what Niall and MacKay have done to ye. Ye must trust God and the spirits to save ye. They willna let ye die.”
“I wish I had your faith, Alyce. I was warned of trouble but didna know what my dreams meant.”
“Trust yer husband, lass. He willna fail ye.”
“I do trust Graeme, but the king’s word is law. If he decides I am a witch, I will die, and my bairn with me.”
That day began a whirlwind of activity as the castle prepared for the king’s visit. Rooms were aired and cleaned for the king’s entourage, and the hall was given a thorough scrubbing. Even the tapestries were taken down and aired, and fresh rushes were placed on the floor. When the king’s herald arrived two days later to announce His Majesty’s imminent arrival, all was in readiness.
Except for Blair. The thought of seeing Niall and MacKay again was a chilling prospect. As for the king, Blair feared no good would come of his visit.
The king arrived with all the pomp and ceremony befitting his station. Accompanying him was a small army of personal guardsmen, as well as Niall MacArthur and Donal MacKay, her chief accusers. Graeme awaited his guests at the bottom of the stairs. Blair stood slightly behind him, her knees shaking beneath her skirts.
“Welcome, Your Grace,” Graeme said, bowing.
The king returned the greeting, but his gaze was riveted upon Blair as she dropped into a curtsey. The king, though rather short and stocky, was nevertheless an imposing figure with his flowing hair and goatee beard. He had done much good since assuming the throne. He had founded the Court of Sessions, and his reign was gradually restoring respect for the monarchy. He was also known for his determination to stamp out witchcraft in Scotland.
“So that’s the witch,” James said.
“Your pardon, sire,” Graeme replied. “Blair is not a witch. She is a skilled healer who has proven her worth to my clansmen on more than one occasion. She is also my wife.”
Niall MacArthur approached from the rear of the group to voice a protest. “I beg to differ, sire. My sister is nae longer Campbell’s wife. Yer Grace has seen fit to annul the marriage. Blair is now my responsibility.”
Father Lachlan came up to stand beside Blair, lending her his support. “I vouch for the lass, sire. I have known Blair all of her life and she is nae a witch. She is blessed by God.”
“She cast a spell to unman me,” Niall charged.
“Did she now?” Lachlan challenged. “Are ye saying ye’re unable to perform as a man?”
“Nay!” Niall denied. “Blair removed the spell. I am as virile as any mon here.”
“Enough of this,” the king said. “I will be the one to judge her guilt or innocence. But first I will eat and refresh myself. Laird Campbell, lead the way into your keep and see that my men are made welcome.”
“Aye, sire,” Graeme said. “Everything is in readiness for your visit.”
“Good. I will question the woman on the morrow. My journey has been long and exhausting; I will seek my chamber immediately.”
Jamie appeared as if on cue, bidding the king and his entourage to follow him to their chambers. Niall and MacKay remained behind. When Graeme asked Blair to give them some privacy, she glared at him and reluctantly took her leave.
“Have you prepared chambers for us?” Niall asked. “We are important witnesses.”
“Your chambers have been prepared,” Graeme said grudgingly, “though I’m sure you’re aware that neither of you are welcome in my home. You, MacArthur, have spoken out against Blair because her
death will benefit your coffers. You want Blair’s dowry for yourself. And you, MacKay,” Graeme charged, “exploited Blair’s powers to satisfy your greed.”
Jamie reentered the hall and Graeme beckoned to him. “Show Laird MacArthur to his chamber.”
When MacKay started to follow, Graeme said, “Tarry a moment, MacKay. I would like a private word with you.”
“What is it ye have to say to me that MacArthur canna hear?” MacKay asked.
“I assume MacArthur doesna know about the treasure. I’m going to make you an offer you canna refuse. If you dinna testify against Blair, I willna mention the treasure to the king. You know James will want his share once he learns about your sudden wealth. He might even insist that you pay the full amount of his ransom.”
MacKay cursed. “She told ye!”
“Did you think she would not?”
“The witch lied to ye. The treasure held little worth.”
“Blair doesna lie,” Graeme retorted. “ ’Tis a known fact the king’s coffers are empty. I am verra certain he will investigate the possibility that a treasure exists before dismissing it out of hand,” Graeme ventured. “Think very carefully before you turn down my offer. If you retract your charges against Blair, I willna tell the king of your sudden great wealth.”
“MacArthur willna like it. We had a pact. He promised that Blair would be mine if I let him keep her dowry. The dowry mattered not to me, for I had far greater wealth in mind. But since I now have what I want, I no longer need the witch. I wouldna wish her on my worst enemy.”
Graeme stifled a smile. Pitting MacArthur and MacKay against one another should work in Blair’s favor. MacKay was still dithering when the king’s page interrupted. Graeme was ordered to present himself in James’s chamber.
Graeme hurried off to answer the king’s summons. He bowed before his monarch but wasn’t invited to sit down.
“Laird Graeme, I was not pleased with your communication. No one, neither man nor woman, dictates terms to the King of Scotland.”
“Forgive me, sire, but I was desperate. You had ended my marriage to the woman I love, and I but sought a way to reverse your edict.”