The Healer

by Allison Butler

‘Aye.’

  Peeping to the side, she found him studying his lands, fierce pride painting his features. Her heart seemed to melt at the mere sight of him and a delicious shiver coursed through her.

  ‘Are you cold?’ His question proved his attention wasn’t fixed solely on the scenery.

  ‘No. Only eager to be on our way.’

  ‘Let us go, then.’

  Lynelle didn’t miss the faint curve of his clever lips, or the knowing look in his eyes. She willed her legs not to give way as they descended to the loch. Lord above. He hadn’t even touched her since he’d joined her on the grassy rise, yet her heart raced with remembered delight. Worse still, the handsome beast seemed to know she struggled for composure.

  ‘I’m surprised you can walk at all after last night’s vigorous activities,’ he said softly.

  Lynelle’s steps faltered on the dock’s wooden planks. Strong fingers curled about her elbow, steadying her and at the same time unsettling her as he handed her into the rowboat. Averting her flushed face from Geordie, she sagged onto the timber board and fought to slow her feverish pulse.

  She enjoyed his teasing; this William was such a contrast to the brooding laird she’d dealt with when they’d first met. Had she played any part in his transformation? She liked to think she had.

  They bumped into the outer pier and, after assisting her from the rocking boat, William released her hand. She missed the thrill of his touch, but understood the need for discretion. Rejoicing in his caresses in the confines of his chamber was altogether different to being in full view of curious eyes.

  If she stayed at Closeburn, would they forever have to keep their passion hidden?

  When they reached the bend in the path, powerful arms swept her off her feet, robbing her of breath and thought. His mouth crashed into hers and she parted her lips for his onslaught, demanding his surrender with every tangling sweep of her tongue.

  Her nipples hardened and she pressed them against the solid wall of his chest. She speared desperate fingers into the dark, silky strands at his nape and gloried in the urgent, blazing sensations swarming through her.

  The soles of her boots touched ground as William ended their mind-numbing kiss. Her hands slid from his hair, down his body to where his heart thudded into the softness of her palms. Their panted breaths mingled in the small space between them and Lynelle had to blink several times before her eyes could focus on the man before her.

  ‘You’re like a fire in my blood,’ he rasped. Lynelle’s heartbeat skittered and thumped at his admission. ‘Come. If we do not go now, you are in danger of being ravished right here on the path.’

  She concentrated on taking one shaking step at a time. Patting her hair into place with trembling hands, she hoped she didn’t look as if she’d just been kissed senseless.

  At the first glimpse of a wattle and daub structure, William said, ‘When I finish mending Arthur and Blair’s roof, I will come for you.’

  It took a moment for Lynelle to grasp what he spoke of. Keita’s words suddenly sprang to mind. The young couple had gone east to attend Arthur’s sister’s wedding in Saughtree before Lynelle had arrived at Closeburn.

  She nodded and couldn’t help a final peek at William’s form as he made his way to the absent couple’s cottage at the far end of the village.

  With a fortifying breath and a fierce act of will, she thrust the image of William’s prowling grace and potent kisses from her head. She couldn’t give her full attention to healing with thoughts of William stealing her wits.

  Chapter 25

  WILLIAM leaned against the rough wall of Leslie’s cottage, trying to appear relaxed, bored even. Having repaired Arthur’s roof in short time, he’d gone back to the castle, set his plans for noon into motion and then retraced his steps back to the village.

  On his return, one of the village women had informed him that Lynelle was visiting Leslie. He’d since walked a decent rut in the earth running alongside the expectant woman’s home.

  He glanced up at the sun as it began its downward slide, and did his best to curb his impatience. A door creaked. He straightened and took a step forward. His chest filled with warmth at the sight of her and his blood pulsed, awakening, engorging the length of him beneath his plaid.

  She turned back and stared at the cottage’s entrance. Her troubled expression doused his ardour and his feet carried him to her side without thought.

  ‘What is it?’

  She looked at him and back to the door before heading out of the village. ‘Leslie’s back aches.’

  William walked beside her, at a loss. ‘This concerns you?’

  ‘Well...yes.’

  Cupping her elbow, William stopped her as they started along the path. ‘Why? Is the babe coming?’ If it was time, why was she leaving with him?

  ‘Not right now, but soon, I think.’ Her brow creased with worry.

  Was her frown for the babe or because once it was born, she would leave?

  His chest tightened. ‘Come,’ he said, still holding her arm and urging her forward. ‘I am in need of your skills.’

  ‘Are you hurt?’ she asked, almost running to keep up with his brisk pace.

  The note of concern in her voice eased the constricting band around his heart. Her gaze raked over him from head to toe, firing his blood.

  ‘It isn’t your healing skills I refer to.’

  Her puzzled expression was short lived, before her lips parted and her eyes widened. Colour flushed her cheeks a delightful pink.

  How many blushes could he evoke with wicked words and probing caresses before the sun set? Would they be enough to convince her to stay?

  At the curve in the trail, he steered her into the trees. Black stood where William had left him, tossing his head as they approached.

  ‘What – ?’

  ‘Ride with me,’ he said, cutting her off.

  She stared at him. The look in her eyes softened and a smile touched her lips. ‘Yes.’

  William’s heart thumped wildly. He mounted and offered his hand. Lynelle took it and placed her foot on his boot. With an effortless tug, he pulled her up, across his thighs.

  She didn’t question where he was taking her, simply snuggled against him. Her trust shattered the last barrier surrounding his heart. He loved her. She deserved to know. He would tell her, but not yet.

  Picking his way carefully, he guided Black through a tunnel formed by the gnarled branches of ancient oaks. The forest appeared impenetrable, but not for a lad who’d explored every inch of his family’s land.

  The air was thick and cold beneath the leafy canopy. Dead undergrowth littered the ground. Black’s hooves stirred it to life, and the smell of the damp and the old wafted about them. Ducking low, William shielded Lynelle from stray wooden limbs, and inhaled her lavender scent.

  Pinpricks of light signalled the thinning of the trees. Sunlight washed over them and William gave his mount leave to gallop for a short distance. Lynelle clung to him, hiding her face, while he relished the feeling of freedom caused by the short burst of speed.

  Drawing rein in a glen dappled with willow and alder, William lowered his precious bundle to the ground and dismounted. Leaving Black to graze, he took Lynelle’s hand and led her to a secluded glade. This was where the burn providing Closeburn village with water began.

  At the water’s edge, he turned to face the woman who had stolen his heart. Cradling her face in his hands, he prayed it was love for him shining in the sapphire depths.

  He kissed her slowly, deeply, hoping she understood his feelings without him voicing them. He lifted his head and stared into eyes glazed with desire.

  Releasing her, William removed his plaid and spread it on the grassy bank. He smiled inwardly as Lynelle swayed toward him before catching her balance. Shucking his boots, he stood in his shirt and swiftly divested her of her cloak, gown and shift. She shivered, though the day was warm, and then tried to hide her luscious form from his prying eyes with her arms.

/>   His shirt joined her garments and before shyness could cool her blood, he drew her against him and tasted the honeyed sweetness of her mouth. Without breaking the kiss, he lowered her onto his plaid and lay down alongside her.

  Reaching over her lithe form, he scooped cool liquid into his hand and sprinkled it over her bared paleness. Her gasps echoed in his ears. Tiny bumps erupted on her skin. Water droplets glistened on every part of her and he licked the moisture from her flesh, worshipping her. Lynelle’s shuddering release quivered against his lips, his tongue.

  Quenching his thirst only heightened his raging hunger. He crawled up over her, positioned himself where his mouth had been and stared down at her flushed features.

  Her beauty awed him and her unwavering kindness humbled him.

  She was his. He pushed into her wet heat. No one would dare to take her away from him.

  Her hips rose to meet each gliding thrust. His arms shook as he drove into her, time and time again. Her cries of rapture filled the sunny glade, stealing his control like a thief. He roared as his life’s essence spilled deep within her.

  Tonight. Tonight he’d ask her to stay. Tonight he’d tell Lynelle he loved her.

  ***

  Having donned his shirt and boots, William assisted Lynelle into her gown, unable to control the urge to kiss her neck and shoulder. He was helpless to stop his fingers from skimming her breasts and the curve of her hip as he did so. Lynelle’s shy smiles and fluttering lashes made him want to tear the clothes right off her again.

  But the day was waning. Using the anticipation of the coming night to quell his growing desire, he lay on the ground and rolled, wrapping his lower body into his plaid. Standing, he drew the end of the garment over his shoulder and tucked it at his waist.

  Looking up, he found her expression had altered from playful modesty to one of rapt fascination. He did the only thing he could. He offered her a courtly bow. She rewarded his efforts with a glowing smile that made the radiance of the mid-afternoon sun seem bleak.

  Beautiful.

  He moved without thought. His hands cupping her face, his body as hot as newly forged steel. Wide, shining eyes peered up at him as his thumb slowly traced her lower lip. He pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth. The warm breath from her parted lips brushed his cheek.

  Forcing himself to step back, he stared into her misted gaze. ‘We must go,’ he said quietly. ‘Now.’

  Taking her hand, they walked to where Black stood nibbling tufts of greenery.

  ‘Thank you for bringing me here,’ she said, as he grasped the dangling reins and began leading them toward the trees. Her head was bowed and he wondered if she referred to the glade or to Closeburn itself.

  Where the meadow collided with the forest, he lifted her and carried her through the shadowed wood. Holding her seemed right, natural. She relaxed in his arms and he rested his chin on the crown of her head, his mount trailing close behind.

  Light penetrated the dimness as they neared the exit on the opposite side of the forest. William’s chest tightened, as did his arms. The world would rush in the moment they left the trees. He didn’t want their interlude to end, not yet.

  Beneath the boughs of an ancient oak, he reluctantly released his hold and her slender form slid down his length. As he tucked stray wisps of red-gold behind her ears, slim fingers stilled his hands.

  ‘I want to stay.’ Her softly spoken words stunned him. ‘I know we agreed on my leaving once Leslie’s babe is born, but...’

  Filtered light painted her face. Her eyes were large, her gaze direct.

  ‘Why?’ His heart knocked against his ribs.

  ‘You have no healer. I like it here.’

  ‘Are these your only reasons for wanting to stay? Honesty is important to me, Lynelle.’ His heart pounded on the wall of his chest. Here was her chance to unburden the secret she’d concealed with a kiss.

  ‘You,’ she whispered. ‘I want to be with you.’

  His heart soared, but he needed more.

  ‘Is it possible?’ he asked.

  She frowned. ‘I don’t understand.’

  William lowered his hands and turned them so he was left holding hers. He loathed what he was about to do, but he had to know. He would have asked the same questions this night, if she hadn’t broached the subject first.

  ‘Is there nae one waiting for your return?’

  ‘No.’ She pulled her fingers from his grasp. Her lashes dipped, hiding her thoughts, once again.

  His shoulders stiffened. Cupping her chin, he tilted her face up and searched her expression. Her gaze flickered and danced like a startled deer’s. Why?

  His body tensed. Forcing a light tone, he said, ‘Will nae one sicken without your skills? Will nae avenging brother ride to your rescue?’ She slowly shook her head. ‘Nae irate father wanting to spill my blood?’ he finished softly.

  ‘If anyone cared, do you not think they would have come for me already?’ A hint of bitterness scored her voice. Sadness clouded her eyes. ‘Truly, there is no one.’

  ‘Then it is my greatest wish for you to remain here.’

  Lowering his head, he pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, hoping to erase her hurt and his guilt for causing it. He released her mouth while he still could. ‘We’d best return, else Mary will have the entire clan searching for us.’

  She gave him a true smile. He gathered Black’s leather reins and they stepped out into the sunshine. Walking side by side, they headed back to the castle. The tension had eased from his body but his thoughts ran riot.

  Where were they to go from here? He loved her, but did she feel the same for him? Wanting to be with him wasn’t a declaration of love and if she did, she’d just missed the perfect opportunity to tell him, as well as the chance to share whatever troubled her. Such strong emotions were new to him and he suddenly shied away from revealing the secrets of his heart.

  The castle came into view as they rounded a bend in the path. Raised voices filled the air. Narrowing his gaze, William studied the scene and the six mounted men clustered on the landside of Castle Loch. Numerous clansmen lined the banks on the opposite side, shouting at the intruders.

  He turned to Lynelle and grasped her upper arms. ‘Go back to the forest. Stay out of sight until I come for you.’

  Placing a quick kiss on her mouth, he threw himself into the saddle and drew his sword from the scabbard secured to Black’s flank.

  ‘Who are they?’

  ‘I don’t know, but they’re English.’ He tore his gaze from the unwelcome strangers and looked down at Lynelle. ‘Go into the trees, Lynelle. You’ll be safe there.’

  Black leapt forward at his silent command and thundered toward those who dared to invade his domain. Six against one were terrible odds, but as he drew closer he turned his mount slightly to the left, keeping the Englishmen between himself and the loch. If a fight ensued, he’d do his best to drive as many of the curs as he could into the water.

  He drew his mount to a halt as Donald’s voice rang clear and loud.

  ‘Naught here belongs to you.’

  ‘I will not go anywhere until you return what is rightfully mine.’ Anger vibrated in the clipped English tone.

  Fury ignited in William’s blood. ‘What precisely do you think we have that is yours?’ He didn’t shout, but the authority in his tone caused all six intruders to turn and face him.

  The older man who’d delivered the threat nudged his horse to the forefront.

  Leaning forward, crossing his wrists, William patiently withstood the man’s lengthy perusal of himself and his drawn sword.

  ‘Give me my son’s horse and we will leave.’

  His son’s horse?

  ‘Who are you?’ William asked.

  ‘I am John Fenwick, lord of Fenwick Keep.’

  Running footsteps sounded. William spun about in his saddle and his heart plummeted to his toes. ‘Stop, Lynelle.’ With a jerk of his knees, Black shifted into her path. She dodged his mount, and wi
thout looking his way she pulled up near the English lord.

  ‘Father!’ she cried. ‘You came.’

  Father?

  William stiffened. Her father was an English lord.

  Truly, there is no one.

  William stared at Lynelle. Pain twisted his heart.

  ‘The horse was a gift to my son, my heir, for his last birthday.’ The English voice penetrated the thick haze that was fogging William’s mind. He saw Lynelle’s smile slip, watched as her complexion paled.

  ‘I’ve come for what’s mine. Give me the horse and I will be on my way.’

  William looked at John Fenwick and stared into cold, blue eyes. ‘Donald,’ William called.

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘Fetch the mount we borrowed from Lord Fenwick.’

  The nobleman nodded and his mouth turned up at the ends in what William took to be a smile, though it looked more like a sneer.

  Footfalls behind William drew his attention. He turned and watched as Keita’s steps faltered. ‘What is it, lass?’

  ‘I’ve come for Lynelle,’ she said as she eyed the strangers. ‘Leslie’s babe is coming.’

  William peered at Lynelle. Her gaze was fixed on her father, her face crestfallen.

  With a nod, William gestured for Keita to approach Lynelle, who jumped as the young woman touched her arm. ‘Lynelle, Leslie needs your help.’

  ‘Oh.’ She looked up at him. Heart twisting further, William stared down at her. He had no clue as to his expression but Lynelle’s face suddenly bleached of all remaining colour. ‘Oh, of course.’ She ducked her head and then left with Keita for the village.

  Stunned, anger igniting beneath his skin, William sat his mount and watched her go. Why hadn’t she told him who her father was? What other untruths had she shared? What other secrets did she hide?

  The horse they’d used to drag Edan’s litter was being brought across the loch on the flat-topped barge, along with Donald, Dougal and their horses.

  ‘Are you Scots so barbaric or so desperate you would trust a cursed woman, a murderer, to birth your children?’

  William slowly turned and witnessed the smirks on the faces of John Fenwick’s men. They’d obviously heard their lord’s comments and agreed. But Lord Fenwick’s slight of William’s people paled in comparison to how he spoke of Lynelle. The woman he loved. The woman who’d lied to him.