by Editor
He couldn’t tell if the tears he thought he heard in her voice were also in her eyes. To hell with staying away. Keenan knelt to shuffle the fire and add more twigs. He then settled down next to her, his long leg pressed up against hers through the blanket. Without a word, he stole her hand from its course along the plaid lines and held it in his large one.
“Yer mother misses ye, Serena. I know that without yer powers.”
He held her small hand against his palm. At first it felt like a lifeless little bird, unmoving, fragile. Keenan began to rub his thumb along the delicate bones of each digit.
She cleared her throat. “So what of your life, Keenan?”
“My life?”
“It must be difficult thinking you will die to save your clan, your brother.”
“Actually,” Keenan released her hand and stood, his head bent against the low ceiling. “My life was probably easier than most.”
“Easier?”
“I’ve always known exactly what to do in life. Unlike the men who flounder around wondering what mark they will make on the world, what purpose their existence is meant to fulfill. I’ve always known my purpose.” He watched her face. “It has been taught to me through word and expression since the day I was born.”
Pity? Did pity just cross her face? His jaw tightened. “I’m na some sacrificial lamb to be pitied for its meaningless slaughter, Serena, so doona look at me as such.”
“I don’t pity you, Keenan. I was just thinking how alike we are.”
He threw another branch on top of the crackling fire. “As night and day.”
Serena shook her head, causing the green ribbon to fall among the blankets. Her hair broke free over her shoulders to veil her in fiery silk. Unbound curls that were made to wrap around a man’s hand, coiled gently but purposely to trap her. She could be trapped easily.
“Trapped,” Serena said.
“What?” Had he said the word aloud? Could she suddenly read his thoughts?
“We’re both trapped. Me in my constant battle to control my power, and you behind the bars of your prophecy.”
He must concentrate on something other than trapping her against him. He looked out at the wet, miserable night. The lightning had finally moved off, leaving a relentless dousing of cold rain. He huffed quietly. Trapped indeed. In this small cave with a beautiful siren.
“Has your family ever considered that, Keenan? That the prophecy is wrong?”
He sat back against the front wall putting space between them. “The seer saw many things, alliances, failed crops and plentiful seasons. She saw remarkable births and bizarre sickness.” Keenan spoke slowly to emphasize his point. “Every single predication that the crone foretold has come true. All of them. And this is the last. Her words are true, my fate is to die.”
“Perhaps you are the brother to live.”
“I believe we’ve been over that.”
“Elenor read me the prophecy. It doesn’t specify which brother.”
“Lachlan has never defended a soul, Serena. He made it a point not to learn how to defend. He knows that the brother who defends will die.” He shook his head. “Nay, I am the defender. I’ve been raised as such, and I will fulfill my destiny.”
Her gaze retreated to the fire. Did she begin to understand or did she tire of arguing the point? She wore the blue gown he had left in her room back at Kylkern. The neckline swooped low, low enough to see the swell of her breasts pushed up by her stays. Her softly translucent skin lay across the contours of her collarbone. He imagined his fingers skimming along that lovely flesh to dip low under the boundaries of her bodice.
Keenan groaned inwardly. He was a man after all, and therefore, not immune to the charms of a lovely lass. She had responded out on the moors on their journey north. Perhaps she would respond if he kissed her again.
The gown curved inward at her waist, a perfect resting place for his hands. She pulled her hair back to one side and re-tied it with the ribbon. She bent her head low to unlace the garters under her knees. The nape of her neck caught Keenan’s gaze, that very spot he had glimpsed when she fled William’s room, the very spot he longed to touch. Och, this was insanity. Keenan glanced at the blocked entrance. It would take his men to free them unless he started hacking away with his sword.
“Enough of this dark talk,” Serena said with a forced smile. “Let’s talk of happier times. Have you kissed many girls?”
Kissed many girls? Knowing that he would die he’d wasted no time with the pretty lasses. “Aye,” he said, amazed at her switch in topics.
Her lips tensed into a false smile that looked more like a grimace on a carnival mask. “How many?”
“Dozens,” he said nonchalantly. Her teeth still showing, the corners of her smile faltered, and a hint of anger sparked in her eyes. He could melt that tension in her face, and if encouraged, ignite that spark into a firestorm.
“And ye?”
“Me?”
“Aye, how many men have ye kissed, Serena?” Keenan threw some more twigs on the fire even though it didn’t need it. Had she noticed his movements around the small space, like that of a caged animal?
“For women it is different. If I were to kiss dozens,” she emphasized his word, “I would be considered unclean, a whore perhaps.”
“Have ye been kissed by other than me?” he asked softly as if he caressed her rosy skin with his words. He watched her slender neck as she swallowed.
She nodded. She nodded to say yes, she had been kissed. By who, when? Keenan’s hand clenched along his side.
“I was to be married when I was thirteen, and Mari wanted me to know him better before the vows. He kissed me and,” she stopped. “And I knew I couldn’t marry him.”
Keenan crouched before her and tossed more twigs on the flames. “Why?” He leaned across to adjust the blanket around her. They were so close, nearly nose-to-nose.
“I could read his thoughts.” She paused and looked back into the fire.
“And his lustful thoughts scared ye,” Keenan said. Thank the heavens she couldn’t read his or she’d be the one hacking through the branches to get out of the cave.
“Yes, his thoughts worried me, but Mari had warned me what boys and men thought about with a woman. But that’s not what stopped me from wedding him.”
Keenan placed his finger under her chin.
“Why did ye na wed, Serena?”
Tears shone, brightening the violet hue. “He only wanted me because of my powers. Otherwise, I was an embarrassment to him.”
“The bastard told ye this?”
“He didn’t have to, I felt it in his touch.” The tear slipped out. His finger caught it near her temple. His hand cupped the side of her face and his thumb traced her cheek.
“He was a foolish boy,” he said. Keenan ached to wipe away that pain on her face, the loneliness. “Ye need a man, Serena. A man who reveres ye for who ye are, na for yer powers.”
She leaned into his hand. “Keenan, will you kiss me?”
His body and blood surged forward. His hand burrowed into the hair cradling her head. His lips met hers as his other arm wrapped around and cocooned her. She hesitated, timid in her virginity, but as he slanted against her lips, subtly caressing, she relaxed. A small moan escaped on her breath. Both of Keenan’s hands combed through her hair, brushing the ribbon to the ground.
A loud pop in the fire startled her and she tensed.
“It’s just the fire, relax, lass.” Keenan traced her face again with his hand.
She closed her eyes, her lips parted. They were just too perfectly pink to abandon. Keenan leaned in again. This time she returned the pressure from the start. Slowly, Keenan unwound the blankets from her body and lowered her backwards to the ground. He leaned over her on his forearms. Drawing back, his gaze raked over her angelic features and passion filled eyes. Serena’s quick breaths swelled her breasts upward to strain at the blue fabric.
“Keenan.” The passion in her voice pushed his
conscience aside.
Keenan spread long hair out around her face. She looked like a sun angel fallen to earth. Bloody hell, he should stop.
Her eyes were half closed, sultry, bewitching. She was to marry Lachlan, but she refused. She wanted him, Keenan, not his cowardly brother.
“Kiss me, Keenan,” she said. Her hand wound around the back of his neck, her fingers spreading through his hair.
He descended, his intent filled with raw passion fueled by rage against the future. The smell of earth and fire penetrated Keenan’s senses. He pulled back, his sight taking in the mud and ash around them. He couldn’t take Serena here in the dirt. He shouldn’t be taking Serena at all.
Keenan tucked Serena’s head below his chin as he pulled her up against him. “Sleep now, lass or I’ll have to go sleep in the storm.”
Serena tried to push away but he wouldn’t let her. “All I can do is hold ye, lass. Let me hold ye.”
As the fire slowly turned to embers, Keenan listened to her steady breathing. Even her breathing sounded soft and feminine. Her smell infused him. It was the most uncomfortably long night of Keenan’s life.
****
“In here,” Keenan called back to Thomas’s hail.
It took all four Maclean warriors to heave the huge birch tree from the mouth of the cave.
Serena awoke and sat up, dazed.
“Bloody hell,” Keenan grumbled. The lass looked like she’d been tupped.
As soon as the others unbarred their entrance, he plunged out into the morning, free from the cage. “Where the hell have ye all been?” Keenan roared at his men.
“We slept in some caves through the storm,” Ewan supplied as he motioned over his shoulder. “We dinna ken ye were trapped.”
“Is the witch well?” Thomas asked looking toward the cave entrance.
“Her name is Serena or Lady Faw, not witch,” Keenan growled and walked off to find some privacy.
The men had the small, wet campsite packed by the time he returned.
Brodick indicated the cave. “She’s still in there preening.”
Keenan turned abruptly toward the cave. Better to get this over with in a little privacy. Keenan took a deep breath and stepped into the dark hole.
“Oh,” Serena said as she bumped into his chest. “I was just on my way out.”
“What’s taking ye so long in here?”
Serena frowned at him. “I said I was just on my way out.” She stepped closer to him.
He stood up abruptly, grazed his head on the cave ceiling and cursed. She laid a hand on his arm causing him to jerk and run his elbow into the jagged granite wall.
“Keenan, last night,” she began. “The kiss—”
“Should never have happened, Serena.”
“What?”
“Ye are to be my brother’s wife. I took liberties, I…”
“Didn’t do anything I didn’t want, Keenan.”
He continued to berate himself silently. “It shouldn’t have happened. Ye will be my sister.”
“Not in this lifetime,” Serena huffed.
“Ye are the witch.”
“Agreed, but the kiss, Keenan?” Serena blushed.
Keenan stared stonily for a moment and then rubbed the front of his skull. He closed his eyes. “I will never forget yer sweet taste, but lass, it will never happen again.”
“Never again?”
Keenan shook his head.
“But, but,” she stammered. “Drakkina said, she said that all would fall into place if we kissed.”
“Who?” Keenan glanced about the cave.
“Drakkina, a crone, or a spirit of one. She came to me. She knew my parents, my real parents. And I have sisters and she knows them, she knows so much.” Serena’s words tumbled over one another in their rush. “You can’t say you’ll never kiss me again.”
“When did ye talk to the crone?”
“Last night, she appeared in here before the storm.”
Keenan’s lips tightened together. “The unnatural storm.” He’d been tricked.
“She said that we must kiss and that we are soul mates and meant to be together. I asked her of your prophecy and she didn’t believe it. Keenan, she’s very wise. She helped me heal William,” Serena gestured with her hands and shrugged. “She linked me to a healer, my sister I think.” She stopped and waved her hands. “That doesn’t matter, but I’m telling you, she knows things. She’s magic and she says that we must be together. For the greater good, she said.”
Keenan stared, his face transforming. “She told ye to kiss me last night?” Serena had asked him to kiss her, not because she wanted him to, but because this spirit told her to.
“Yes, she said that if I kissed you that we’d be together as is meant to be.”
“So ye kissed me because she told ye to do it, for the greater good.”
Serena swallowed. “This isn’t coming out at all right. I wanted to kiss you, Keenan. I’m just not one to ask. Her words helped me be bold enough to ask you.”
Her confession rolled a boulder into his chest.
“Keenan, last night…”
“Was done for the greater good.” Where had he heard that before?
“No,” Serena’s voice rose.
“It sounds like ye have yer own prophecy controlling ye, Serena. I suppose we do have much in common.”
Serena just stared, her eyes wide, pleading.
He was in no mood to listen. “Aye, much in common. We both are performing a role in our own stories. Performing our role for the sake of the greater good.”
Keenan turned on his heel and strode out of the cave. “Find yer horse. We have a mission to complete.”
Chapter 9
They arrived the next night at the Red Cloak Inn, in Leicester. Keenan procured two rooms. Serena retired immediately, requesting food and a bath to be sent upstairs. Keenan sat at a table in the corner of the common room with his men and took a long pull off his tankard. He hadn’t spoken more than a handful of words to Serena. He was furious with himself for wanting her kiss. The witch would wed Lachlan.
“What’s the plan?” Gavin asked Keenan as he leaned forward, his elbows planted on the rough table.
“King George is visiting Frampton Manor nearby,” Keenan said casually, his gaze washing over the busy room. “Word in town is that he is entertaining his latest mistress there on holiday, but I think he’s meeting with Scottish supporters.”
“Bastards,” Ewan swore.
“I’ve requested an audience with the king to explain Gerard’s death. If I see the excuse, I will play the part of traitorous brother.”
“What’s that?” Thomas asked and coughed, his eyes glancing toward the stairs leading to Serena. “Traitorous in what way?”
Keenan ignored the glance. “I’ll say that I support him, not Lachlan and the Bonnie Prince. If he’s meeting with Scottish supporters, I’ll just be another.”
“Without an army?” Gavin asked with one eyebrow raised.
“Nay,” Keenan said. “George kens that the Maclean warriors from Kylkern support me.” Keenan looked at his men, the men he had trained and fought with. All four of them nodded easily. “I can convince him that ye follow me, na’ Lachlan.”
“What then?” Ewan said and pinched a serving maid who had wandered nearby. She smiled coyly and sauntered over toward the kitchens. His eyes followed her.
Brodick punched his arm. “Yer neck may depend on this, pay attention.”
Keenan sat back in his chair. “Perhaps he’ll confide his plans to me. Perhaps I’ll find some other battle plans or overhear some important information.”
Thomas motioned toward the stairs. “What of the witch?”
“She is a lovely lass,” Ewan said glancing at the stairs. “Hard to believe she’s a witch.”
“Her name is Serena,” Keenan corrected brusquely.
“Then what of Serena?” Thomas asked undaunted.
“She will come to court with me, a distant
cousin who supports me in the break from Lachlan. In reality she will try to identify the thieves who killed Gerard and took the letter. If they are following the court, I need to retrieve the letter.”
“But what if the murderers are there and reveal that Gerard was a Jacobite?” Gavin asked.
Keenan leaned back considering. “Giving Gerard’s name would only call suspicion on themselves. Suspicion is something everyone avoids these days. But if they do, I willna refute it,” Keenan said.
Brodick wrapped his fingers around his tankard, his other hand tugging at his beard. “He could have ye locked up, as a Jacobite.”
Keenan shrugged. “Unlikely, but Serena can warn me if she picks up on any ill thoughts of dungeons and gallows.” He grinned darkly. Keenan knew the lass scared them a bit.
The kitchen maid brought another round of ale and neatly avoided Ewan’s hand this time, though her smile held promise.
Thomas leaned over to Keenan. “Why bother, Keenan? Chances are, the letter is gone. What good is it really to get into court? What, with the risk?”
The thought of Serena bent over William on the bridge sat heavy in Keenan’s mind. She had promised to help him identify and possibly recover the incriminating letter, and he had promised to help save her brother. Keenan led him out of Leeds and to relative safety, but William still had a price on his head for the murder of a prestigious man. Serena herself may even be wanted in association with William’s disappearance.
“I made a bargain to help Serena’s brother, William. If there’s a chance to expose those who plotted and hired Gerard’s murderer, I need to expose it. Otherwise, William Faw will run his entire life.”
Gavin nodded. “No honor in running and hiding yer entire life, now is there.” The other three quickly agreed. Gavin silently raised his cup in salute.