“He had two blades,” Keenan said

by Editor

  “I certainly did,” Lady Amberley bragged. “We are proud to serve the court.”

  “I never ordered such an act,” King George said.

  “Of course not,” Elizabeth Darlington jumped in.

  “Of course not,” Frampton agreed.

  Cumberland turned such a dark shade of purple that Serena wondered if he would have an attack and fall on the floor in convulsions.

  “So the young Romany man, William Faw, dinna commit the crime?” Keenan said evenly as he eyed the courtly lady suspiciously.

  Lady Amberley clasped her hands in front of her and looked remorseful. “No,” she shook her head. “No, the Romany man came upon us while we paid the assassin. My darling William reacted without thinking. I’m afraid he shot the boy.”

  “William Augustus, Duke of Cumberland shot an innocent man?” Frampton asked.

  Lady Amberley nodded.

  “That will be enough, Judith!” Cumberland shouted, causing Serena to jump at the impact. The man’s panic flew through the air like an arrow, piercing her wall. Serena took two steadying breaths. What would this man do to his mistress once Drakkina left her?

  “He was a Rom,” Cumberland said with a slight sneer. “He was most likely going to rob us anyway. I but shot him in self defense.”

  Serena’s mouth opened as a nauseating sweep of anger washed through her belly up into her chest. Would she protest the bigoted man’s ignorance or merely vomit on the spot? A quick wave of patience slid across her body, calming her. Serena’s eyes were drawn to Keenan’s. He stood staring at her, his eyes seeming to will her silence. Serena swallowed down her fury and shut her mouth even as she shouted in her head.

  Keenan turned back toward Cumberland. “Rom or not, William Faw did not stab Gerard Grant.”

  “Correct,” Lady Amberley called from her place by the gaping and furiously fanning Elizabeth.

  “Keep your silence, Lady Amberley,” Cumberland ground out between his pristine, evenly spaced teeth.

  King George looked at Keenan. “You knew this William Faw?”

  “I traded with the leader of his tribe who is his father. The lad is on the run since he’s been wrongly accused of the crime.”

  “We must do something about that,” Judith Amberley said and looked expectantly at Cumberland.

  “Judith, stop speaking,” Cumberland’s words sliced across the room.

  George nodded contemplatively and then looked to Frampton. “Have word sent to Leeds and surrounding townships that William Faw is cleared of the murder of Gerard Grant. He shall not, nor his relations, be held accountable.” King George regarded Keenan. “Do you know his whereabouts?”

  Keenan kept his answer guarded. “I can carry a letter of innocence to his family. They will most likely ken his whereabouts if he still lives.”

  King George nodded. “That should take care of this mess then.”

  Serena couldn’t keep the bubble of anger down in her stomach any longer. It boiled up to the top. “And the punishment for the Duke, for shooting, and nearly killing an innocent man?”

  Silence filled the room, but Serena could barely hear it with the cacophony of emotional noise bombarding her defenses. Suspicion, hatred, unveiled bigotry. Yet there was an undercurrent of worry, worry for her, compassion. Where was it coming from?

  King George cleared his throat. “First I would like to commend Lady Amberley for bringing up this injustice. It showed amazing courage. Second I would say that I appreciate Cumberland’s concern over Gerard Grant’s betrayal and his courage to act on it.” Lady Amberley curtseyed and Cumberland bowed stiffly.

  King George then turned to Serena. “Cumberland shot William Faw in defense of an attack, imagined or real.” The king looked back at Cumberland. “I suggest that you be much more careful in the future.”

  “I heed your council, Sire,” the Duke replied smugly. Serena nearly bit her tongue.

  King George continued. “However, a man’s life has nearly been lost and he and his family have lived in fear for these past weeks. I believe you owe them a recompense of two hundred pounds to be paid to Keenan Maclean to take to the family.”

  “Two hundred?” Cumberland asked in a flat tone. “I do not know if I have that with me at this time.”

  “I will loan you the amount. Maclean will be leaving soon,” George said. “Does that satisfy Lady Maclean?”

  The amount was huge and would be celebrated. But was it enough to pay for a man’s life? No. But Serena knew the answer that was required. “Yes, Your Majesty. Quite a generous settlement for the injury, and accusation.” She curtsied slightly and inclined her head.

  King George clapped his hands twice, the sound echoing in the room. “Good then, let us go back to the reception. Cumberland, be sure to speak with Frampton on the morrow to arrange your payments to me.”

  The Duke of Cumberland did not say anything but nodded and stalked over to take his mistress’s arm. Serena watched with fascinated horror as a dry mist wafted its way out of Judith Amberley’s body. The woman lost her stride and nearly collapsed.

  “Oh my, what’s happened to me?”

  “You’ve about lost your bloody mind,” Serena heard Cumberland sneer. Louder he said, “I think it is time for you to retire for the evening.”

  “Yes, yes, I think that might be best,” she said simply and let him draw her out of the room. “I feel as if I’ve been holding my breath.” She patted at her chest and coughed a bit.

  Serena looked at the thin vapor of Drakkina and willed her concern to the crone about Judith Amberley’s welfare. Drakkina frowned slightly and her image wavered. But then she nodded and disappeared.

  Keenan took Serena’s hand and placed it on his arm. His warm words brushed against her ear as he leaned in. “Ye frown? Everything has worked its way out.”

  Serena kept her eyes forward and whispered. “Not on its own. Drakkina helped.”

  Keenan’s breath left her ear as he looked around the room. “She’s here?”

  “Not anymore.”

  There was no time to explain more as Serena and Keenan joined back in with the courtly conversations about nothing specific or interesting. It was several hours more of standing, curtseying and dancing before Serena and Keenan were finally allowed to leave the ballroom. As they walked across the threshold of their room with Brodick, Thomas, and Gavin in tow, Serena let out a groan. She yanked off her torturous shoes and dropped them to thud on the floor.

  Serena pointed at the offending articles. “Try dancing and walking in those for hours and see if you don’t throw them in the fire.” She tried to reach her aching foot, but couldn’t find it under all the layers of dress. Brodick’s muffled laugh made her give up, and she sat back on the bed.

  She listened while Keenan gave the men orders to find warm beds or sleep in the stables with Ewan.

  “And ye will be sleeping where?” Thomas asked with his usual dose of guarded suspicion.

  “I need to stay in the room for awhile so that it looks like we’re truly married. I will join ye soon or if the corridor is watched, I will bunk down near the fire. It’s not as soft as lying on earth, but it will do.”

  The three Macleans began shuffling out the door.

  “Good sleep, Serena,” Brodick called.

  “Good sleep to you too, Brodick.”

  “Good sleep to ye, Serena,” Gavin called.

  Serena raised her hand to wave. “And to you, Gavin.”

  Thomas grumbled something of a good sleep, and Serena waved back. Then the door shut, and Keenan lowered a bracing bar to lock it. He walked to the fire to add more kindling. His footsteps clipped over to the bed and he sat down on the soft tick making Serena roll toward the gully.

  “Is she here now?” Keenan’s deep timbre pulled tightly at Serena’s stomach. Not quite nausea, more like nervous flipping.

  “Who?” Serena managed to answer.

  “Drakkina, ye said she was in the study but I couldna’ see her.”

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sp; Serena sat up on elbows and looked around the room. “I don’t think so. I can sense her now, now that I know her better. Plus she seemed pretty weak after invading Judith Amberley’s body and making her talk.”

  “Drakkina confessed to the murder.”

  Serena nodded and scooted back into a sitting position against the headboard, which brought her battered feet against Keenan’s thigh. “I only hope she helps Judith Amberley now that the woman will have to deal with Cumberland’s wrath.”

  “But the crone isna’ here now, ye’re sure?”

  Serena looked around again, and even reached out a bit with her senses. No Drakkina. “I don’t feel her presence at all. I would tingle.”

  “Tingle?” He looked her body over as if he might catch a glimpse of her tingling.

  Serena flushed a bit as she moved a hand to her stomach. “I have a birthmark, strangely shaped like a dragonfly. I’ve noticed that it warms or tingles whenever Drakkina’s around.”

  Keenan looked at her stomach as if he could see through the heavy material to her skin. “I suppose we can add that to the list of yer oddities, lass.”

  When he looked up, Serena couldn’t help but smile at his grin. “I suppose so.”

  “So,” he looked again at her stomach, “nary a bit of tingling there right now?”

  Oh there was tingling going on in Serena and she blushed even deeper, but not on her birthmark. “No, no tingling,” she said.

  Keenan picked up one of Serena’s feet still clad in silky stockings. She gasped and tried to pull it away. He held on and began to rub it gently between his two large hands. He ran his knuckle up the middle, giving even pressure along her instep and then to the balls of her foot. Serena pulled back a little at the immense sensation.

  “Hold still, lass, I’m only trying to help these mistreated feet.”

  While cupping her heel in one hand, and circling it slowly, his other fingers massaged each of her toes. A cross between a sigh and a groan seeped out of Serena and she closed her eyes at the sensations of achy pleasure rolling up her leg.

  “I wouldn’t think that one used to dancing would hurt so badly after a night at court.”

  Serena snorted as she relaxed back into the soft feather down pillows. “Around the fire, I dance in soft leather shoes that are flat, not those hard, pinching contraptions.”

  Keenan continued up her calf to her knee and then took up its abused twin.

  “Mmm.” Her eyes flitted back open and found Keenan studying her. Her throat clenched, preventing another breath.

  Serena felt the blush creep up into her face. She touched the tip of her tongue to her upper lip. “So,” she began and swallowed. She tried to push back up into a more upright position. “Where did you learn to rub legs like that?”

  Keenan grinned. “Mostly on mares after long rides.”

  Serena pulled her leg back a bit and frowned. He laughed. “But also on Elenor, when we were alone, I would massage her feet.”

  “She had sore feet?”

  Keenan’s grin broke into a full smile. It reached his eyes, making their gray depths sparkle. He was the most handsome man she had ever known. And he even rubbed his dear sister’s feet.

  “My poor sister had sore feet from chasing after me.”

  “You ran a lot?” Serena said on a laugh.

  “All over Maclean lands, inside and out.”

  “And Elenor followed you?”

  “Aye, ‘twas her job.” Keenan’s smile weakened back down into a mild grin. He kept rubbing and circling her foot.

  “Had you no nanny?”

  “Nay, the woman responsible for watching us had to keep a constant eye on Lachlan, so nothing would befall him.”

  “Oh,” Serena said, her own smile going flat. “And your parents?”

  Keenan bent forward to run the flat of his hand up her shin. “They dinna have time to watch after me.”

  “So they ordered Elenor to do it.”

  “She volunteered.” He smiled warmly. “She loved me, raised me really. Taught me the ways of my world, about the prophecy.”

  Serena watched him, his head bowed slightly as he worked. “No one else told you about it?”

  “Nay, they left it to her. And I wanted to understand why I was treated differently from Lachlan.”

  “How were you treated differently?”

  Keenan stopped rubbing her legs. Serena held her breath as he moved up close to where she sat. Keenan circled his finger in the air. “Turn around and I will endeavor to pull the ribbons and pins from yer hair, else ye may never sleep.” Serena let her breath out and turned around as best she could in the heavy court dress.

  With her back to him, Serena could feel his gentle tugs as he began to undo Winifred’s beautiful weave. The touch of his fingers in her hair sent chills along the nape of Serena’s neck. As each curl came down around her waist, he ran his fingers from her scalp to the end to relax the bound curl.

  “Once when Lachlan was sixteen, he decided that he had had enough of playing life safe. At least for the day.” His fingers trailed down her shoulder to fan out her hair. “I was nine summers and had been training with the young warriors, eager to show that I could complete my duty for my clan.” Keenan pulled a clip from the top of her head and a mountain of hair cascaded down. “Lachlan just wanted to venture outside the walls of Kylkern having ne’er been allowed to leave the surrounding village. I offered to help him. I pitied his existence more so than mine. His shackles were obvious even to a nine-year-old.”

  Keenan reached up under her hair and sieved his fingers through the waves to her scalp. He began to massage the roots of the heavy tresses. Serena closed her eyes to the wonderful feel, but her mind held tightly to his story.

  “So I helped him sneak past the guards, and we ran down to the loch. He dinna ken the way of keeping afloat and dinna tell me until he was past his head. At nine I wasn’t as big as he, but I still managed to pull him to shore, thrashing and wailing.” Keenan left her scalp and ran his fingers down the length of her hair, untangling little snarls as he went.

  “Brodick’s father found us stretched out in the mud like fish and gave us a ride back to the Keep.” Keenan breathed deeply behind her. His voice lowered to a sultry whisper. “Lass yer hair smells of sweet spices and highland wind.” Serena didn’t move, didn’t know what to say. Keenan remained silent for several moments.

  Serena’s words were so quiet, it was hard to hear them. “What happened when you returned to the Keep?”

  Keenan’s hands began to move through her hair again. “Lachlan was scolded and sent to bed. A guard followed him for some time after that.”

  “And you?”

  “I was flogged and sent to heal in the stables.”

  His words were devoid of emotion, no self-pity, no resentment, just words. Tears stung Serena’s eyes, and she closed them. Pain, she felt a low pulse of pain and then it was gone, snuffed out. She opened her eyes. From where had the feeling come?

  “Elenor tended me and as ye see, I recovered.”

  “On the outside.”

  Keenan ignored her comment. “I learned much that day. I learned my place in the world, the rules of my existence. I learned how lucky I was to have Elenor.”

  They were quiet for a while, her back still towards him. When his hands stopped stroking her hair, Serena turned around.

  “So this prophecy chained Lachlan to the Keep and forced you out to defend yourself and the clan against the world.”

  Keenan’s grin did nothing to chase away the muted sadness in his eyes. “It certainly affected our lives.”

  “Cursed your lives.”

  Keenan looked down at his hands. And then back up at her. “It seems to be dooming our Maclean line. Lachlan waits for his witch. And Elenor has become an old maid.”

  “And what of you, Keenan? Will you not wed and have children?”

  Keenan shook his head, pushed off the bed and walked to the hearth. “I ne’er thought I would.
I dinna want to sire children only to leave them to be raised without a father.”

  Serena followed. “But you don’t know when you are supposed to die. Maybe it will be when you’re old and gray and ready for a natural death, Keenan.”

  Keenan frowned at her. “I doona wish for that.”

  “Why?”

  “Because this life is hard enough.” He bent to add dry peat to the fire. “To go on alone for so long only to realize at the end that I could have had a life, had children and watched them grow.” He shook his head.

  Serena rubbed her hands along her cheeks in frustration. “Then do something about it now, Keenan. Find a woman to love. Give her your children. Watch them grow and love them well.”

  He looked over his shoulder at her as if considering her words. “And where would this woman be, lass?” He asked the question, but his gaze told her he knew an answer, an answer that stood before him, her hair fanned out around her waist. It was as if she felt his desire. Was it in his gaze? Or could she actually feel something from him?

  The fire sparked behind him, and he turned to kick some embers back into the hearth.

  “So what of ye, Serena? If ye could find a man that respects ye as ye are, would ye marry?”

  Serena stepped closer to the fire. “He must accept my powers and not feel ashamed of me. But also, I must feel love for him.”

  “Love can grow after ye marry.”

  He spoke of Lachlan. She knew it and frowned. “We talk in circles, Keenan.” Serena turned and walked to the washing pitcher and poured some water in the basin. “And I am weary. Let us sleep.”

  When she turned back to him, he stood before the fire, his feet braced apart and his fists next to his sides. Battle lurked in his eyes.

  “I canna sleep here, Serena.”

  “The King and court think we are married, at least in the highland way.”

  “But my men ken that we are not. And they ken that ye are the witch of the prophecy. I need to bed down with them.”

  Serena pointed toward the door. “But what if someone sees you leave? Would a newly wed man stray already from his wife?”