Ruth A. Casie

by The Guardian's Witch

  “What? How did she do that?

  “The dog was curled up in the midst. When she snapped her fingers, he wagged his tail. Hubert screamed.”

  Alex couldn’t contain his amusement at the image.

  “And everyone laughed—at him,” added Jamie.

  “No wonder Hubert called her a witch. No one likes to be the brunt of a joke,” Alex said soberly.

  “When Hubert left I brought Laura to visit Lisbeth at Glen Kirk. We found her stripping the rooms bare. She said she’d found Hubert taking ownership of things that weren’t his. He even went through her trunks. I worked with her and the servants to take down the tapestries, put away the plate, preserve Wesley’s armor and Darla’s gems. Before the second protector came, she left the castle.

  “There’s more. The king sent a second protector. He too thought it his privilege to loot Glen Kirk. What little was left he helped himself to. When that was gone, he and his men took what they wanted from the market.”

  “Now I understand. Thank you. It explains a lot. But we still have the other issues.”

  “Yes, we still need to get to the bottom of these attacks, first Wesley and Darla, the disappearing protectors, then the farmers, and now you,” said Jamie.

  “You never told me what actually happened to Wesley and Darla. You’ve led me to believe it was a terrible accident.”

  “I know. But I had to be certain. I couldn’t let anyone know my suspicion.”

  “The rumors at court abound. All say it was an accident. They said they went into the forest too late in the day. The trail was iced over. The driver went too fast. But you’ve only told me the bare facts. I didn’t want to press the issue out of respect for your closeness to the family but I think it’s time I heard it all—every detail.”

  Uncertainty crept into Jamie’s expression. Alex waited and let Jamie come to his own decision.

  “Wesley brought Darla and Lisbeth to visit Laura and me. Laura was excited. The king had requested that Wesley and Darla bring Lisbeth to court. The women had been working on Lisbeth’s gown for weeks. Laura drove me crazy with her excitement. They spent three days with us and left one afternoon to get back to Glen Kirk before dusk. My men and I traveled with them to the border. Before we parted Wesley told me he feared intrigue. He would say no more, only that he expected to have the evidence he needed before they left for court. We said our goodbyes. Wesley took the others on their way.”

  Agony twisted Jamie’s handsome features. “Why did I let Wesley dissuade me? I should have gone with them. The forest can be treacherous, especially at dusk. There was a tree down across the trail. The coach was forced to take another, more dangerous path. The ground gave way and the carriage rolled down the embankment into the gorge. Wesley’s men sent for help in both directions, to Glen Kirk and to me. We spent hours trying to get to them. When we reached the carriage there was nothing we could do. We found Wesley and Darla wrapped around Lisbeth. Only Lisbeth was alive. Her body was badly bruised. Her mind, well, her mind was bruised as well.”

  “Lisbeth. I didn’t know.”

  Jamie’s usually twinkling eyes had a haunted look.

  “If it’s too difficult, you needn’t go on.” Alex put a steadying hand on Jamie’s shoulder. Alex read the gratitude in Jamie’s face.

  “No, you should know it all. They had traveled the same trail three days before and the way had been clear. We couldn’t find the tree stump. We did find drag marks. The severed end was more likely a week old rather than three days old. We concluded the tree was placed across the trail. I took Lisbeth back to Laura and Gareth took the news to the king. It wasn’t long after Gareth returned that the first protector arrived.”

  “Why did the king send protectors? You’re here.”

  “Alex, you are a man who judges another on value. In your king’s court you are a rarity. Edward could not let a Scots take charge of an English holding. After Richard died, Wesley made arrangements with the king for Glen Kirk to go to Lisbeth, as the oldest surviving Reynolds. It was in your king’s best interest to get the best man he could to marry Lisbeth and fill the vacant seat. Until he found the right man, he sent protectors. The first ones were not…” He searched for the right word.

  “Capable, and some were not honorable,” Alex finished.

  Jamie’s face brightened. “Exactly. I think Edward thought Glen Kirk would run itself, and it did for a while, but eventually it needed a leader. With the arrival of each protector everyone hoped things would change. They wanted to return to the way things were. The first two brought disappointment. Wesley made it look easy. Anyone coming after him would have difficulty. Anyone without skill was doomed.”

  “So where do you think the protectors are?”

  Jamie ran his hand through his hair. “I wish I knew.” He stretched his legs out in front of him. “I wish I knew.”

  “The rumors at court say they were victims of the curse.”

  Jamie swung around to face him.

  “Now don’t get upset. That’s one explanation. The rumors abound. Some say they are dead, and others say they were taken by the Scots.”

  The expression on Jamie’s face turned murderous. “And what would we want with a couple of protectors who cannot even protect themselves?”

  “Ransom. Not necessarily money but something to bargain with—to leave Scotland independent.”

  “I don’t think the men were politically important.” Jamie scratched his chin in thought.

  “No,” said Alex, “but they were all from wealthy influential families, which for the king is just as good. And I don’t just mean the protectors. Their men of arms who were also taken were from influential families as well.”

  “Once the clan chieftains got wind of the rumor the Scots were blamed for the disappearances they banded together to search for the men. No stone was left unturned. The men have not been found.” Jamie got up from his perch. His hands were fisted at his side. “Well, it’s been quiet too long. I feared something would happen soon. I’m not surprised. Whoever the culprit, he has chosen a good time to strike, with your king visiting.”

  “Yes, he has. But we’ll stop him.” Alex stood next to the Scots who was as close to him as his own brothers. “It’s good to know you have my back.”

  Jamie nodded. “I’m glad you brought me that ale.”

  Alex shook his head. “Gareth told me about you and your tie to the family. I knew we had to meet on common ground. Wesley’s ale was the best idea I could come up with.”

  “You were either very smart or very stupid. I didn’t know which. You marched into my camp, two tankards of ale in your hand and introduced yourself,” said Jamie.

  “Your camp wasn’t far from mine. I nearly tripped over your feet when I went to relieve myself.”

  “Aye, we both were curious. In the end we figured out we were very much alike.” He leaned into Alex. “Me being the more handsome.” Jamie smiled.

  “If you’ve a fondness for redheaded Scotsmen,” teased Alex as he pushed him back.

  “As long as my darling Laura does, that’s all that matters.”

  “We had a good talk that night,” remembered Alex.

  “One of many that lasted into the wee hours of the morning.” Jamie got up and stretched. “You’re in great danger, Alex.” Jamie looked off the edge of the cliff at the churning water below. “Be careful.” The men headed toward Alex’s horse.

  “I will. I must get back to the castle.”

  Jamie held Prime’s bridle while Alex mounted up.

  “I will get you a message if I find out anything.” Jamie patted the horse’s neck and released the halter.

  “Many thanks, my friend. Many thanks,” called Alex as he rode off.

  *

  Lisbeth dropped the basket.

  “Forgive me, Lisbeth. I didn’t see you on the other side of the gate.” Alex stared at the basket on the ground, then slowly up her body, complete surprise on his face. He reached out and twisted a damp cu
rl around his finger. “A swim?”

  She looked at him from under her thick dark lashes. She didn’t answer.

  The spoils of her berry picking and trip to the market lay scattered on the ground. He knelt and helped her stuff everything back into the basket. Awkwardly, he still held some of her bounty. He took the basket from her and gave her his arm.

  “Did you go for a swim?” he repeated. There was no way she could deny being at the river. She was ready for his wrath but if she hadn’t been there… She didn’t want to think of what might have happened.

  “I enjoyed a very refreshing swim.” He pulled her along to the castle. “The bridge collapsed beneath me.” The crossed the kitchen garden.

  “Are you all right?”

  “I’m perfectly fine. Thanks to your help. I knew I didn’t imagine you.” He slowly drew his thumb across her lower lip. “Soft,” he whispered.

  She closed her eyes and enjoyed the thrilling sensation.

  “You always seem to be near when I need you. How is that?” They continued toward the kitchen.

  She didn’t say anything. She didn’t trust herself to say anything.

  “Did I imagine you kissing me back to life?”

  She looked down at the ground, afraid if she looked at him she would burst into a million pieces. Her head told her to admit nothing. Instead she faced him. “When the baker’s wife gave birth, the baby didn’t breathe. In desperation I gave the baby my breath. It worked then. I had good reason to think it would work again.”

  They stopped outside the kitchen door. “So your breath is part of me. You are very generous.”

  Her heart jolted and her pulse pounded. Soothing warmth radiated from him and wove into a slender delicate thread that began to form between them.

  He leaned his forehead against hers. “Thank you, Lisbeth.” They stood there for a few minutes. She wanted to feel his lips on hers. He finally pulled away and put a chaste kiss on her forehead. “I best go in and get out of these wet clothes. So should you.” His voice was soft and rough.

  She nodded. She was afraid to speak.

  “Good day m’lord, m’lady,” said Eve as they walked into the kitchen.

  “Yes, quite,” said Alex. “If you will excuse me, Lisbeth.” He placed the basket on the worktable.

  She followed him with misty eyes as he left to go to his room.

  *

  Alex stood in his room with linen wrapped at his waist while he dried his hair. War. He was at war but he had no idea with whom. He sat on the edge of his bed. How could he plan his defense? No, he must take the offensive, but Faith, who threatened him? He had to admit, the bastard was cunning. The raider had him looking over his shoulder at every turn and had fractured his defenses. His men were deployed everywhere. He even questioned their loyalty.

  He bent down and picked up something gleaming from the floor. He fingered the small smooth stone amulet Lisbeth had given him. He worried the stone in his hand, laid back and ticked off the possibilities. The smooth feel of the stone and constant motion calmed and centered him. He deepened his concentration and allowed his eyelids to slide close.

  He was back in the forest escaping from London and on his way back to Glen Kirk. The excitement of winning his bet with the king replaced his anger over being the king’s entertainment. He felt Prime hesitate long enough to reduce the impact of the branch’s glancing blow. Once again the limb slammed into him and threw him to the ground.

  He concentrated and sensed everything in his surroundings. He was on his feet, his sword drawn. He looked at the attackers for the telltale sign of the Scottish braid. Jamie was right. These weren’t Scots.

  Once again his heart pounded. He took a deep breath to steady himself and expanded his senses. Dare he go deeper? He had to; he had to know.

  The fight continued, and he felt the familiar presence of an ally. He calmed himself still more and reached out still further. He could feel the man at his back. They fought together as a unit, close enough that their shoulders occasionally rubbed. He felt the coolness when the man stepped away. No, the presence remained. He slowed his heartbeat and he went still deeper.

  He looked for any sign to give him a hint of who attacked him. Robby? One of the other men? He began to turn toward the man when he felt white-hot pain in his side below his tunic. The assassin knew exactly where he’d be most vulnerable. Agony flooded his senses. Alex let the memory fade. There was no more he would find out now.

  He relaxed and stroked the stone again. This time the fragrance of berries grabbed his attention. He was painfully aware of white blossoms and the taste of her lips and the feel of her bare skin. Once again she called him to her dream. He willingly obeyed. The feel of her, the scent of her and the taste of her were not illusions. He knew that now. He had yet to understand why she didn’t acknowledge their intimacy. He could wait. He let his mind wander to more tempting things. Mine, echoed in his head.

  *

  Lisbeth sat on the edge of her bed and dried her hair with a piece of silk. It was a trick her mother had taught her and Laura. It made their hair shine. She stared at nothing in particular and let her mind wander. A growing mist gathered at the door. She closed her eyes. Unwarranted tears fell down her cheeks. When she opened them, Alex—his gray eyes colored with passion—stared back.

  The ring of swords reached her ears. The flash of metal surrounded her. The knight’s moves were efficient and practiced. Another stood at his back. The large blade caught the sunlight and blinded her to all but the raised jeweled dagger that arched down and plunged into her knight’s side.

  Her breathing became shallow and her heart raced as if she had run across the meadow. Her eyelids slid closed and her body thrummed with anticipation. Her vision took a sudden turn. Fear was replaced with safety. Need was replaced with passion.

  She felt the warmth of his lips on hers and brought her trembling hand to her mouth, but his lips weren’t there. She fell back onto her bed. She had to fight this overwhelming desire for him. The thought of him sent her to places she could only find in her dream. Mine. She heard his clear and emphatic voice in her head. The mist swelled along the floor. She felt his arms around her. The mist crept up the bed and cradled her. She waited with eager anticipation.

  Her eyes fluttered open. She stood at the lodge door. He emerged out of the low heavy mist and stepped toward her. His stride was sure and strong. His gray eyes sparkled like lightning. He drew closer, never taking his eyes from hers. Closer. She could see his strong soft lips. Closer. She reached out—needing to touch him.

  He gently took her hand and tucked it through his arm. They strolled the shrouded grounds amid the swirling autumn leaves. The bare branches around them were in stark contrast to the one tree that still held late-fall blossoms.

  They stopped under the canopy of the flourishing blooms, and he reached up and plucked one from a low hanging branch. He tucked it behind her ear. His hand lingered, caressing her hair. Slowly his knuckles stroked the side of her face. The mere touch of his hand sent a warming shiver through her. His eyes focused on her mouth, and she wet her parched lips. He ran his thumb gently over her lower lip making it tingle from his touch. She kissed his finger and heard his quick intake of breath. He eased closer and took her in his arms. A sense of urgency drove her. She ached for more of his touch. She leveled her head and was again captured by the longing in his eyes. The very thought set her afire.

  The air was tinged with the delicate aroma of the white blossoms. The fragrance heightened her senses. He leaned closer and tenderly kissed her forehead. He raised her head and captured her lips. Liquid heat roared through her veins. Every nerve was alive. Every touch of his lips made her dizzy with delight. He took her moan into his mouth and completed it with his own.

  He kissed her cheek lightly, then worked his way to her earlobe and gave it a gentle nip until he took it into his mouth. His warm breath in her ear sent chills of delight cascading through her. She sank further into his arms. He left
a trail of velvety warm kisses down her neck. Another moan, more guttural than the first, escaped her lips.

  The urgency of the wind disturbed the blossoms, sending a light dusting of delicate petals raining down on them. The rising wind matched the swirling desire deep inside her. He pressed his manhood against her while his lips seared a path down her neck. She gasped at the sensations and held him tighter lest he disappear. The top of her gown lay around her waist, his hand covered her breast, and she thought she would die from the exquisite joy. His mouth advanced in a warm steady march across her collarbone and down the soft incline of her breast. He hesitated, a thoughtful expression spread across his face. She panicked he would stop. His stare was compelling. When she looked into his eyes she noted something deep and primal. A sense of urgency drove her. She attempted halfheartedly to control the dizzying current racing through her. He dipped his head. His mouth found the softness of her breast. He slowly licked her hardened nipple. The sensation was pure and explosive. She didn’t want him to ever stop.

  Her soft curves molded into the hard planes of his body. He raised his head. She closed her eyes as he bent to her neck and started all over again. His hot breath against her ear whispered “Mine”. She listened to the tinkling of the hard shell of her resistance shatter into a million pieces. How would she ever be the same? Her hands raked his back. His long, low groan made her hot and wet.

  The wind picked up—slowly at first. The white blossoms danced and floated in the air. The faster her heart beat, the wilder the wind blew, and the more insistent she became, until the blossoms pelted them angrily. Trapped between the tree and Alex, Lisbeth was lost but didn’t care. She was safe; the horror and guilt were gray shadows. She could conquer them with Alex. Slowly they sank to the ground. Alex’s back was against the tree, and she was still in his arms.

  One last gust of wind and the blossoms were gone. Alex pulled away, his eyes glistening with unspent desire. He tucked her head against his chest. “Mine,” he whispered. He kissed the top of her head.