Feeling the tension slide smoothly from the space between them, Gavin dragged a chair from the wall and took a seat, as well. “Ah, so this was the cause of your argument with John MacInnes the night he died. You were questioning James Gordon’s worthiness in having Joanna’s hand?”
“Aye.” Athol nodded, his face growing grim, and in his eyes, the weariness of one remembering a battle fought--and lost--long ago. “I have known her since she was a wee thing, no bigger than my two hands. I always thought her deserving of no less than the best man Scotland could offer.”
“You are a greater fool than I thought, John Stewart, thinking that your place as a friend gives you the right to question her father’s choice.”
Sitting erect in his chair, Athol’s eyes suddenly flashed with indignation. “Aye, but here he was, giving his precious daughter to Gordon, the devil take him. A womanizer and a scoundrel at that! And for what? For the sole purpose of keeping her a few more miles from Ironcross Castle! What kind of thinking is that? To make a decision based on a fear of demons and old curses!”
“Considering how many kin John MacInnes lost in this keep, how can you blame the man?”
The skin on Athol’s taut face flushed a ruddy shade. “That night, I called him a fool and told him how wrongheaded he was. Hours later, he lost his life and proved me the fool. He didn’t want Joanna exposed to the evils that he believed surround this keep. But here we are today, and I cannot stop you from going against his wishes.”
“‘Tis all different now.”
“Is it?”
Gavin's face grew fierce. “Aye. Joanna has been exposed to the worst of whatever this place has to offer. In these months past, she has suffered and she has lived through it all. Even if John MacInnes were alive today, he would agree that Joanna today is a far different woman than she was that night. I tell you she is a woman whose heart is full of pain, and yet she still seeks to bring justice--and life--to this godforsaken castle.”
“All the more reason, then, to get her out of here,” Athol stressed. “Perhaps ‘tis best for her to marry James Gordon after all, or at least to return to court and Lady MacInnes.”
Gavin shook his head, his voice barely more than a low growl. “If you were in her position, is that what you would wish for yourself? To skulk away and leave those murders unavenged?”
“But she is a woman! By His Blood, she has already seen more pain and more...”
“Hold, Athol.” Gavin broke in. “Be her friend and not her father. Joanna MacInnes is great deal stronger than you might think. Think of what you and I went through yesterday. I wonder if either of us would have been able to survive in that maze of darkness for six months--as she did!”
“Curses or not, there is an evil that lurks in these walls. Death hangs over the place like a shroud!”
“Be it so, she and I will face that together,” Gavin asserted confidently. “Six months ago, the words of a curse struck fear into the hearts of folks in these parts. But today I know it to be the foul work not of some demon, but of someone made of flesh and blood. One vulnerable enough to fear being discovered. One who needed the edge of a blade to send us nearly through the gates of hell.”
Athol’s deep frown told Gavin that the Highlander was considering everything that he’d just said. But in case if he wasn’t convinced, there was more that Gavin could tell him.
At about the same time that he’d sent Edmund off to meet with James Gordon, Gavin had also given Peter the mission of searching out the priest who had served as chaplain here before Father William. Gavin knew that the chances were slim of Peter finding the man still living, but if he could, Gavin was certain he could learn a great deal more about the history of the keep.
That was where the key to Ironcross Castle’s secrets lay. The reasons for these killings were rooted in the past. Perhaps as far back as the time of Duncan MacInnes, or even more distant than that. Perhaps in the time when the women buried in the vault still walked on this earth. Gavin certainly hoped the old priest would have the answers.
“I believe I will continue to enjoy your hospitality a while longer, laird.”
“Is that a request, m’lord earl, or a statement?”
“Take it as you wish.” Athol shrugged. “But with Joanna MacInnes living within these walls while you wait for a response from James Gordon, I see it as my duty to remain.”
Gavin felt the hackles on his neck rise. “If that’s the only reason...”
“Nay, ‘tis hardly the only reason. Do not forget, that attempt was on my life as well as yours. I do not take kindly to such impertinence. I have as great a desire to find this blackguard as you do.”
Gavin considered Athol’s words for a moment before agreeing. “Aye, you may stay. But only so long as you keep your wily ways to yourself and that bruised and ugly face away from Joanna.”
“Och!” the Highlander responded, feigning injury. “I thought sweet Joanna was unaffected by my charms.”
“Aye.” Gavin eyed the earl suspiciously.
“Well then, I will make no promises that I intend to break. And you have nothing to fear.”
“I wish I could say the same for you,” Gavin growled with a menacing look.
CHAPTER 24
Sitting in an elaborately carved chair by her bed, Joanna started abruptly as the beam of late afternoon sunlight that had been creeping unnoticed across the chamber, caressed her foot with its warm rays.
Why, she thought, must he stay away?
Standing and moving across the chamber, she stood with her back to the wall. Night would soon be falling, and Joanna was glad. It was painful to pretend that there was nothing amiss around her. Joanna knew she would inevitably have to leave this chamber that Gavin had his people hastily prepare for her. She knew she would have to go out and face the members of the household. But she hated the thought of it. Despised the false front she would have to put on before them.
Joanna moved restlessly about her bedchamber. They would ask her questions. They would smile and pretend to be solicitous. Running her fingers along the smooth edge of the damask bedcurtains, she cringed inwardly at the thought of the encounters. She knew she couldn’t trust herself to look into the women’s faces and still keep her fury in check.
Already, Joanna had caught a glimpse of Molly, the housekeeper. She, too, had been among the women of the crypt. How different she had looked that terrible night, dressed in white, chanting and moving with the rest. There had been no trace of that Molly when yesterday, she and two of the serving boys had brought into her room a chest of clothing that had been undamaged by the fire.
Joanna had remained seated, her face averted until they had left the room. She sat for a long while after that, staring at the chest.
When Joanna opened the chest, she had found the dresses that had once belonged to her mother, and tears had followed. Tears of sadness. Tears of regret. Tears of anger.
But those tears were finished now. The young woman moved to the window and looked down at the dress that had once been her mother’s. She smoothed her hands over the cloth the way she had seen her mother do it a thousand times. She straightened up and gazed out at the lengthening shadows.
And for the hundredth time today, Joanna told herself that she would bide her time for the present and await that moment of justice.
When the time came, Joanna was determined to follow through on her plan, but in the meantime she found herself longing more and more for time alone with Gavin. The happiness of that single night in his arms was firmly imprinted on her heart. And with so few days left, she simply could not content herself with this ache that seemed to gnaw at her very bones.
The night she had stepped into his arms and into his bed, she had done so knowing that she could no longer be bound by what others might think or say. This was her life to live. No one else would decide her path.
And she had said as much to the Earl of Athol in his visit to her chamber this afternoon. In response to his concern at her
remaining at Ironcross Castle, at her “alleged” consent to marrying Gavin Kerr, she had spoken her mind--bluntly and freely--telling the Highlander that it was not his place to question her decisions if he wished to remain her friend. Though she had spoken from her heart, Joanna was nonetheless surprised that John Stewart had shown such goodwill, even relief, in accepting her wishes.
But with that done, Joanna still had the problem of luring Gavin into her room.
The young woman glided across the chamber to her bed. Her virtuous lover was determined, it seemed, to await the return of his messenger from James Gordon, so he could wed her first before taking her back into his bed. Well, as far as Joanna was concerned, by the time that happened, she could very well be dead and buried, and she had no intention of waiting that long. Each moment now was more precious than Gavin could possibly imagine.
**
As the sounds of night gradually descended on the Old Keep, Gavin strode out of the Great Hall, past sleeping warriors and servants, and into the corridors leading up to his chamber.
Moving along the dim corridors of the keep, Gavin considered the priest. Father William had been missing since this morning, so far as anyone could tell, but Gavin was not going to just sit back and hope that the strange little man would return. From what the new laird could see, the chaplain was not one to spend his time visiting sick crofters or doing anything else quite so noble. For the short time he’d know the cleric, Gavin hadn’t once seen him venture out of the castle. The spiritual needs of anyone outside of these walls were obviously being met by Mater.
But the priest’s absence had not been the only disappearance of the day. In talking to Athol, Gavin had learned that the earl’s informer, the stable hand David, had also disappeared. The earl had openly admitted that, having found the meager provisions and bedding of some wayward peasant, he’d left David in the shadows of the underground loch to keep an eye on the spot. But now, a day later, there had been no word from the man.
And that hadn’t been all of it. During supper, word had reached Gavin that Molly was upset since she had not been able to locate Margaret, the steward’s sister, anywhere.
Three people missing. At this rate, Gavin thought grimly, in a fortnight or so there will be no need for a laird.
But then, the mute woman’s disappearance perhaps would be the easiest to resolve, Gavin thought. In talking briefly with Joanna this morning, she had told him of the scene she’d witnessed in the vault the day before--the one in which she had learned of Margaret and Mater being sisters. More than likely, that was where Margaret had gone--to the abbey to be with her sister.
Gavin slowed down as he passed by Joanna’s door. His warrior, who was leaning with his back against the wall, straightened up and nodded to him.
Tempted to relieve the man of his duty and send him on his way, Gavin paused, fighting the longing that was suddenly stabbing at him with every step he took.
Nay! Don’t do it, he told himself. His reason told him that this distance he was forcing between Joanna and himself was needed. Until the message came back from James Gordon, until Gavin could claim her as his own, he was not about to jeopardize her reputation in public.
But his heart fought him every step of the way. He missed her, and he ached for her the way he had never ached for another woman in his life. Raking a hand through his black hair, Gavin forced the thought from his mind and trudged onward.
Reaching his chamber, he pushed open the heavy door and walked into the darkened room. This would be a long night, he thought with frustration. Between searching for a murderer and overseeing the massive reconstruction of the south wing, which was just beginning in earnest, Gavin had hoped that his mind would be preoccupied enough that he would not miss Joanna’s company.
“You are a fool if you think that!” he muttered aloud, wearily making his way in the darkness to the window and yanking open the shutters.
The light of the half moon flooded the chamber with a blue-white glow, and Gavin turned around, gazing across the room at the portrait still sitting above his hearth. Looking into her smiling eyes, thoughts filtered through his mind of what life would be between the two of them once they were done with the cursed problems of the present.
The two of them, he thought, a smile creasing his face.
For the first time in his life, Gavin Kerr found himself dreaming of a future. Not since he was a lad had he allowed himself to look into the night sky and dream of what lay beyond the stars. But now, here he was, seeing the two of them in a vision as clear as a Highland loch, standing side by side in the years to come. Stunned, he allowed his thoughts to wander. He could see her now, her middle swelling with his child. He could see their daughters and sons around them. And again he could see them--the two of them--growing old.
Aye, he thought, how good it would be to live and to grow old beside the one you love.
The sudden tightness in his throat caught him unawares, and he leaned his head back against the wall beside the window and closed his eyes.
The movement of the panel in the wall opening beside his bed snapped him sharply out of his reverie. Alert to the possibility that this may very well be another attempt on his life, Gavin silently drew the gleaming blade of his dirk from its sheath...and then replaced it.
He didn’t have to see her face to know that it was Joanna. Like an apparition she moved, gliding into his chamber with the same grace and ease that she had moved into his soul. With a smile, Gavin moved away from the wall, more than willing to offer her his heart as well.
“Gavin,” she called softly, taking couple of steps in his direction before coming to a halt in the moonlight pooling in the center of the room. “I heard your footsteps passing by my door. I had hoped...I wondered...”
She stopped, her hands nervously clutched before her. Gavin’s heart swelled at the sight of her. He’d thought her breathtakingly beautiful, clad only in rags. But now, standing before him, a woman of substance, adorned with the finery appropriate to her station in life, she stunned him with her beauty.
“I...” he fumbled. “By...well, I thought...”
She smiled at him, and he forced himself to focus his attention. “Joanna, I put a guard outside your chamber and a latch on that panel door, thinking that you would stay put.”
“And I would have, if you had not persisted in staying away.”
“Oh?” He raised a brow and moved closer, drawing her hands into his. Holding her at arm’s length, he let his eyes roam appreciatively from head to toe and back again. “I was there this morning.”
“So were three of your men, working on the panel, and a serving girl seeing after my things. You were all there at the same time.” She pulled one hand free and touched him on the shoulder. Gavin thought he did a good job at hiding the pain that shot through his body. “Is this the shoulder that struck the side of the chasm?”
He could not hold back any longer. Encircling her waist with a brawny arm, he drew her into his embrace, brushing his mouth against her parted lips.
“What shoulder?” he whispered.
“The one that John Stewart told me you injured!”
“John Stewart has a big mouth and no sense of discretion.” Gavin deepened the kiss and felt Joanna rise against him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck and pressing her body firmly against his. The hunger he constantly felt for her took charge. His fingers traced the firm flesh of her breasts before moving around to her buttocks and pressing her hard against his rising manhood. Her response, immediate and passionate, brought out a madness in him. A madness pricked with desire.
“This was my fear,” he said hoarsely, breaking off the kiss and settling his lips onto the sweet, ivory skin of her neck. “Of being left alone with you and being unable to stop.”
“Then don’t stop,” she said hoarsely, running her hands down his back, tracing his backside. Her fingers started to pull at his belt.
“I cannot risk having someone discover you here.” His fingers were
making short work of the laces on the back of her dress.
“No one will,” she whispered as he tugged down at the neckline, freeing one of her breasts. “I have a guard...” He leaned down and took her nipple between his lips. “...inside my door...” she managed to gasp, digging her fingers into his hair.
“He had better be outside,” Gavin growled, pulling down her dress down her body and sliding it over her hips. He eyed the thin chemise that failed to hide her perfect form.
“Outside,” she repeated. As she unfastened his belt and dropped it to the floor, Gavin kicked off his boots and helped her as Joanna pushed his shirt up over his head. Now it was her turn to eye him as she ran her hands over his chest, and he could see in her face the embers of desire. She glanced up at him and smiled. “I have a guard outside my door!”
“Even so,” he continued, the conviction of his argument somewhat undermined by the fact that his fingers were gently peeling the chemise over her head. “We could be...” his breath caught in his throat as he cast the garment aside. “We could be caught!”
He had seen her like this before. But each time they met, it seemed, she grew more beautiful than the last. Taking her hands, Gavin gazed on the vision looking up at him. His eyes drank in the flawless and glowing skin.
“The latch on the panel in my room will keep me out.”
“Keep you in,” he corrected with a smile, lifting and kissing the palm of her hand. Then, placing her arm on his shoulder, he lifted her effortlessly and moved easily to the bed, laying her gently across it.
“Aye, keep me in,” she repeated. She reached out over the side of the bed to where he stood and pulled at his kilt. The garment fell away, and her eyes roamed his body, broad and naked in the moonlight.
“Still,” he said teasingly, letting his fingers travel lightly over the inside of her thighs. The way her eyes closed, the parted lips, the sharp intake of air, all spoke of her anticipation of what was to come. “We should think of answers in case...”
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