“Enough of this,” Gregor bellowed. “Everyone drop yer weapons and part. Now.”
As if receiving a command from God himself, the entire room did as they were told. Fordun’s men separated to the left, the villagers of Henwen to the right. Morgana watched tensely as it all happened, wondering what Gregor’s plan was. At this point she had no idea how the night was going to end.
To her chagrin, Gregor barely released Fordun so he could speak. “Who are ye?”
“I am Nigel Fordun, knight of the Realm, and witch-hunter commissioned by Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth. We’re taking that red-headed witch, Laird Henwen,” Fordun stated, his voice full of venom. “Nothing you can say or do will stop that.”
“Listen here ye English whore-mongering filth calling himself righteous,” Gregor growled, his anger rolling off him in waves. “Ye threaten me betrothed again and I’ll slit ye from navel to yer nose.”
A collective gasp went up in the hall and everything stopped, including Morgana’s heart.
“What?” Fordun cried incredulously.
“Ye heard me,” Gregor replied, his voice deadly. “Morgana is under the protection of the Scottish crown, God himself and I, Laird of Henwen. Ye won’t be taking her anywhere.”
Morgana tried to stop trembling, but her nerves were getting the better of her. Of all things she had thought Gregor would do to protect her, telling Fordun that she was his betrothed was not it. Still, when he said the words no one objected, and Fordun had relented for the night. Immediately Alice and Erica had ushered Morgana away toward her room, where Tily was there waiting with Zeus.
While waiting for Morgana to arrive Tily had bathed the wound, stopped the bleeding and had prepared a yarrow paste Morgana had taught her to make some weeks back. By a miracle Zeus was still alive, though barely conscious.
Morgana dressed the wound quickly and fed Zeus some herbal infusions to ease the pain and help him sleep. When she finished, she kissed his head all over before nuzzling her forehead into his. He whined in appreciation for her, and she couldn’t stop the tears that poured down her cheeks. Like so many times before, he had put himself in harm’s way to protect her.
She wanted to stay with him there all night, but there was now a play to put on. To keep up appearances of an engagement she knew she had to move into Gregor’s quarters immediately. Without a doubt, everyone would be watching them now, wondering if she were really a witch and if their Laird was really going to marry an English peasant.
Alice and Erica had helped her take off her bloodied gown and undo her hair. When they finished, she went to fetch her night shift but Alice stopped her.
“Wait here,” she whispered, darting quickly out of the room. She came back only moments later with a creamy white silk night shift and a matching heavy robe with long belled sleeves that almost draped to the floor.
“Wear this instead,” Alice insisted, holding up the finery.
Morgana had shaken her head. “No, it’s not fit for me, Alice.”
But she had insisted once more, and Morgana gave in. A barrage of emotions beat down throughout her as they walked her to Gregor’s rooms. She couldn’t help but notice that the servants in the halls were staring closely, as if watching to make sure the rumor was actually true, and she was their new Lady-to-be. Even being fully covered with the dressing gown, she had suddenly felt very incredibly naked.
Now here she was, standing in the front room of Gregor’s quarters, waiting for him to come in. Alice must have seen her shaking, for she slowly reached out to lift Morgana’s chin so she could look her in the eyes.
“Don’t ye worry dearest,” she soothed, her voice a calming balm over the night’s harsh injuries. “Gregor is a gentleman, despite his rough appearance. He won’t do anything untoward to ye, that I promise. And he’s a smart man, even with his temper. I’m sure whatever plan he has it’s to make sure ye stay safe as possible until we can figure out how to get this self-righteous hunter out of our country and back to England’s shitter where he belongs.”
Despite the night’s nightmarish events, Morgana cracked a smile and even laughed at Alice’s vulgar language. The two women then gathered around her and embraced her tightly, making her want to cry all over again.
“We are by yer side,” Alice promised her, squeezing her tight.
A minute later they left, and Morgana was left alone to wait for Gregor. It was the first time all night she had a moment alone to think, and her mind was reeling. How Gregor’s plan was going to work out, she had no clue. Nobles could be accused of witchcraft just as much as peasants could, though they hardly ever were.
For a moment she thought about leaving, but quickly tossed the idea away. It would be unsafe for Zeus to travel in his condition, and she would rather stay and burn than run and leave her precious guardian behind. No. She would stay this time, and fight.
The door to Gregor’s sitting room opened then, pulling her out of her thoughts. Immediately she grabbed the poker from the nearby fireplace and brandished it in front of her. To her relief, it was only Gregor. Across his chest he had slung her father’s bow and behind him on the makeshift gurney he had Zeus.
“I had a feeling ye wouldn’t sleep too well without either,” he explained, shutting and locking the door securely behind him. When he noticed she still had her eyes on the door, Gregor quickly assured her that two guards were standing watch outside, and that there were even more scattered outside the rooms in case Fordun’s men tried something.
Morgana took one look at Zeus after Gregor brought him to her and she began to sob all over again. This time however, she wasn’t alone. Behind her Gregor sat down on the bear rug where he’d put Zeus, and pulled her into his embrace. In soft tones he whispered to her to breathe and let it all out. In his arms he rocked her gently, as if she were a child and it comforted her greatly.
Gregor stayed wrapped around her until she couldn’t cry anymore, his chin resting softly atop of her head as his hands caressed over her hair and back. Not once did he tell her to stop or pull herself together, instead only offering words of comfort and warm silence. When she felt as if she could speak, she leaned up, and looked into Gregor’s eyes.
“I’m–I’m sorry,” she apologized, hiccupping. “I got your shirt all wet.”
Gregor lifted an amused eyebrow and looked down at his soaked shirt.
“I hadn’t noticed,” he replied gently, stripping away his kilt. He tossed the shirt carelessly to the side, and with the shirt he wiped away the rest of her tears until her face was dry. When he finished, he tossed it behind him without a care for it.
“I daenae give a bloody damn about a shirt,” he replied, cupping her face.
Morgana leaned into his palm, suddenly feeling incredibly tired. She knew she had a lot to explain, that she should explain to Gregor immediately. But she had no idea where to start. The events of not just the night but her entire life was all jumbling wildly inside of her head, making it impossible to think straight.
“We can talk in the morning,” he assured her, as if sensing her struggle. He got up, only to bring a tray with a carafe of wine and two glasses to the floor where they sat. He poured her a glass and pressed it into her hands.
“For now, ye need to try and relax and rest.”
Morgana nodded, thankful for the reprieve. Both wanting and needing the wine to calm her nerves, she brought the cup to her lips and drank it down greedily. When she finished, Gregor took it from her and suggested he take her to the bed to get some rest. Instead, Morgana shook her head and curled up closer to Zeus.
“Very well,” Gregor murmured, getting up and disappearing into the bed chamber.
For a moment Morgana’s heart felt heavy as he walked away from her, but the pain soon ebbed away when he returned shortly with an armful of pillows and furs. Without a word he made a makeshift bed on the fur rug, tucking a pillow beside Zeus and laying the blanket over her before coming back down to sit with his chest to her back.
; As Morgana leaned back, she could feel the warmth radiating from Gregor’s naked chest pressed against her cheek. His impressive torso was thick with muscle, running from his shoulders all the way down to his pelvic bones. Swarthy hair mapped over his pectorals and made a scattered line that traveled down to past his navel where it was cut off by his underclothes. His biceps, large and hairless, were wrapped protectively around her as she let herself lean into his embrace once more.
At her feet, Zeus had taken to snoring softly. The extent of the wound didn’t appear to be as bad as she had originally thought. With hope, she prayed, she could keep the wound clean and in no time he would be back on his feet. For now, she was just happy to have him alive and in her arms. In fact, with Zeus in her arms and she in Gregor’s, Morgana found peace for the first time that night.
Giving into the wine and overall exhaustion, Morgana closed her eyes, let her head lull back to rest on Gregor’s chest, and quickly slipped off into a deep sleep.
Chapter 19
Gregor awoke to the knowledge that he was not alone. Or even in a bed. Sleepily he opened his eyes and the memories of the night before rushed to meet him. Anger laced through him as he recalled the night’s events. What had started off as such a perfect night had ended in battle, one that he helped incite, thanks to his temper.
Looking down, he saw Morgana in deep slumber on his chest. The vision of her made his breath catch in his throat. Her head rested just above his heart, her dark lashes sweeping down her face innocently. Her face was slightly swollen from all of her tears but did nothing to take away from her beauty. Gazing at her, he wished he could have shielded her from the chaos.
He had assumed that he would find out eventually what Morgana was running from, but he had never imagined this. Sir Nigel Fordun was not someone he was familiar with in the least, but after just one interaction with him he knew the man was dangerous and out of control.
It had surprised everyone, even himself when he had announced that Morgana was to be his wife. Yet the little white lie had slipped from his lips so effortlessly that he wondered if it was something he actually wanted. After all she was kind, smart, noble, and if that wasn’t enough, her beauty nearly struck him speechless every single time he looked at her.
On his chest, Morgana began to stir awake. She yawned and stretched, her dressing gown parting slightly to reveal a wealth of creamy cleavage. Despite the danger lurking around them, Gregor felt arousal stir in his loins. Unable to stop it, he felt his manhood grow hard as Morgana slowly wiggled around on top of him as she woke up.
“Good mornin’,” he greeted.
Morgana’s eyes popped open then, and her head jerked up from his chest. She looked wildly around for a moment, as if she wasn’t sure where she was or what she was doing.
“Easy,” he murmured, leaning up, pulling her with him. He watched grimly as the knowledge of last night’s ordeal returned to her eyes, and he thought she was going to start weeping again.
“Good morning,” she greeted calmly instead, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. “Did you sleep on the floor?”
Gregor shrugged. “We all slept on the floor,” he replied honestly.
Morgana gave him a look and shook her head. “I don’t understand. You didn’t have to do that.”
Oh, but I did. There was nay way I was leaving ye alone, nae for a second.
“I was comfortable,” he shrugged. He looked at her eyeing Zeus anxiously.
“How is he?” he asked.
“He’s with us,” she replied softly, stroking the beast’s giant head. “I’ll need to change his bandages soon, and try to get him to drink some bone broth.”
Gregor’s palm itched to reach up and stroke the wild curls at her shoulder. He wanted so badly to comfort her, to take away the fear Fordun had brought to her. Instead he realized the best thing to do was help her with Zeus.
“I’ll go get whatever ye need,” he offered, getting up. “Ye should eat something too.”
“I’m fine,” she replied half-heartedly.
“Aye, ye a mighty fine lass,” Gregor quipped sarcastically. “But ye’ll be even finer after ye eat.”
Despite her somber energy, a smile twitched at Morgana’s lips, and Gregor knew then she still had her strength. After quickly changing his clothes, he assured her once more that the guards were stationed outside, and then left to run his errands.
In half an hour’s time he had retrieved Morgana’s medicine bag, had a fresh dress sent to his rooms for her, and had the kitchen bring up a breakfast of eggs, tattie scones, black pudding, a rasher of bacon, toast, and a pot of strong heather tea. For Zeus, a steaming fresh bowl of beef broth and the bone it was boiled from.
Again Morgana insisted she wasn’t hungry, but when he lifted the covers off the dishes her stomach growled loudly, and she soon gave in. Gregor felt a sense of pleasure as he watched her eat. She was always caring so much for others that he rarely saw her care for herself.
For the first few moments they ate in comfortable silence, letting the food and tea slowly wake them up. Gregor was trying to think of a way to explain his plan to Morgana when a heavy knock came at the door and the guard announced that his aunt and uncle were there.
“Send them in,” he replied immediately.
A moment later Alice and Jamie Reid entered and the two couples moved to one another to embrace. Alice outstretched her arms to Morgana and Jamie grasped Gregor’s forearm in a warrior’s embrace. Gregor sensed that the night had been rough on everyone.
“Well, I see ye got the place tidied up a bit,” his uncle joked, looking around.
Despite the circumstance, Gregor laughed.
“Aye, someone brought to my attention that it needed to be done.”
He waved them toward the table, and they all sat down. Morgana poured them each tea and welcomed them to the plates. For a moment, it felt like a normal morning, one he could imagine sharing with his family and his pseudo-bride often.
“What’s the news?” he asked, turning his attention back to the present.
“They’re gone,” Jamie announced.
Morgana gasped as Gregor nearly choked on his tea.
“What?” they said in unison.
“They’re gone,” Jamie repeated. “Faither Monahan too.”
“Any damage left behind?” Gregor asked, trying to gather as much information as possible. Jamie nodded.
“A few of our men and I rode out to Morgana’s cottage. It was ransacked and her fields were destroyed.” His eyes flicked over to her, full of empathy.
“I’m so sorry lass,” he apologized. “I ken how hard ye worked on yer crops.”
“I’m just thankful Sean and John weren’t there,” Morgana replied, her voice distant. She shook her head, then sighed. In her eyes was a mixture of pain and anger, but it seemed the fear had dissipated altogether.
That’s me lass.
“He’s not gone,” she told them, her voice calm and level. “That devil doesn’t just leave ever. He’s planning something. I can feel it.”
Jamie nodded. “I agree. There’s something nae right about this man.”
Gregor didn’t argue. He had looked into the man’s eyes last night and saw nothing but evil pouring out of him. Even coming in contact with the man by his fist had made every inch of his skin crawl. Still, if they were gone, even temporarily, it would give them a chance to prepare.
Together, the four of them worked to devise a plan. Morgana and Gregor both agreed to carry on the rumor of marriage, finding it safest to keep her and Zeus and even Tily at the castle. Gregor and Jamie then discussed setting up sentries throughout the woods and near Tily’s property so that they weren’t caught off guard.
After breakfast Alice and Jamie took their leave, and Gregor turned to Morgana. She was still sitting at the table, picking apart a piece of toast. He could feel her worry radiating off of her, and he knew he had to do something.
“Come on,” he said, offering her his hand. Morgana
looked up at him curiously.
“Where are we going?” She asked, not moving.
“Target practice,” he replied, smiling mischievously. “I want to see what ye can dae with that bow of yers.”
She looked at him, her eyes glowing with childlike excitement. “Really?” she asked.
“How else are ye going keep yer shot?” he asked, winking.
To his pleasure, Morgana smiled, and took his hand.
Chapter 20
Two Weeks Later
Lusting for the Highlander: A Steamy Scottish Historical Romance Novel Page 13