Dragon Knight's Sword (29 page)

“Oh my. Well, ummmm...” Brigid’s face burned, and daring a glance at Duncan, noticed he was fast approaching gluttony with the amount of food he was shoveling into his mouth.

Cathal came to their rescue. He stood directly across from them, hands clasped together in front. “Ah, Nell, I am sure when Sir Duncan and Lady Brigid decide to be handfasted, ye will be the first they tell.”

“Humph!” Then looking at Brigid she asked, “Truth? Ye will tell me first?”

Duncan spoke before Brigid had a chance to compose her thoughts. “Aye, Nell. I shall come find ye myself.”

The look he gave Brigid over Nell’s head was one that spoke truth. He truly thought there might be a chance for her to stay, and he wanted to make it legal by handfasting with her. Could she hope, too? In her heart, she loved Duncan. But could he open his heart fully to love her?

The smile on Nell’s face beamed for all to see. “Good. Now please someone pass me those neeps. I’m famished!”

The table erupted into fits of laughter and snorts, the latter coming from Finn.

“Don’t you want some of the meat, too?” Brigid started to reach past for the trencher of meat, but Nell’s eyes went round and her mouth started to quiver.

“Nae, Lady Brigid. I will not eat the animals. They are my
friends,
” her voice barely a whisper.

She patted Nell’s hand. “I understand.”

Well, there was one for the history books Brigid mused, a vegetarian in medieval Scotland.

****

Hours later, Duncan and Brigid stood on the parapet, watching as the moon made its way up over the hills, sending beams of light over the valley below, almost blotting out the night stars. Standing against his chest, she was wrapped in his arms, a cocoon of warmth and strength. His chin rested on the top of her head, as they basked in the glow of the rising moon.

The sound of bagpipes floated on the wind, creating a magic that whispered of old. Brigid sighed as her heart sang along with the tune.

“Calum is playing for the dead,” Duncan drawled.

“What? I think it’s beautiful.”

“Nae. The song is one for the ancestors.”

“What do you call it?”

“ ‘Journey to Tir na Og.’ ”

She sighed. “It’s still beautiful, in a haunting way.”

Duncan snorted and turned Brigid quickly to face him. “Enough of the pipes. Let me take ye to my bed and warm ye properly.” Before she could answer, his mouth took hers in a searing kiss, and all thoughts of the pipes vanished from her mind.

Chapter 41

“The darkness of Samhain speaks to us as wisdom of light, ushering in the new beginning.”

Duncan had made love to almost every inch of her body, and Brigid felt so sated that sleep beckoned, luring her to a far off slumber. That is until she heard Duncan ask her a question.

“Why were ye with Nell in the weapons room? Do ye like them?”

Sighing, she tried twisting to look into his face, but he held her fast against his chest. “Duncan, how do you know I was in there? Are you having us followed?”

“Nae, not me—Cormac. I find it interesting a woman would want to look at swords, shields, spears, and such.”

Brigid could feel his chest rumble from laughter. “Spears, really? I didn’t see any.” Trying more to wiggle free, she finally gave up, snuggling back into his embrace. “In my time women are men’s equals, well in most of the countries, and I just happen to love medieval weaponry. I did have a small shop with antiques from Scotland, Ireland, and England. I’ve always been fascinated by the craftsmanship of sword making.”

“Hmmmmm. That’s what I told Cormac.” He placed soft kisses on her shoulder. “And the cursing? Do women curse too?”

“Um,
well
,” she gasped when he placed a kiss behind her ear. “As a matter of fact, Duncan, they do...oh, that
feels good
. She closed her eyes. “I don’t curse that much.”

Duncan chuckled and bit down on the side of her neck. “Nae, your language is strange, but the cursing I recognize.”

Her eyes popped opened. “Duncan, stop! You’re teasing me, right?”

His laughter rumbled against her and she finally got an elbow out to take a jab, when he grasped it, turning her to face him.

“It is a problem. One that I’ll have to punish ye for.” Taking his mouth, he kissed the side of her eyes, top of her nose, and pressed one on the corners of her mouth before he took his tongue and traced the soft fullness of her lips.

“You are
such
a tease, Duncan Mackay.”

“Aye.”

Leaving her mouth yearning for more, he rolled off the bed and strolled over to the table, where Brigid spied the sword. So, he had taken the sword from her room. Good, she concluded.

“I have a gift for ye. Since ye have a fondness for the weapons, I considered ye should have one.” He held out the dirk, the very one she had admired that day with Nell.

“Duncan, it’s beautiful,” she whispered. “How did you know?” Taking the dirk, she still marveled at its beauty, tracing the carving of the horses with her fingers. It was small and fit snug in her hand.

“Nell. She told me if I wanted to win your heart, then perhaps I should give ye a weapon. She suspected ye had a fondness for them.”

“Oh, Nell, you are a wise soul, indeed.”

“Aye, she is, lass. I take it ye like my gift.”

“Yes, Duncan, I do.” Brigid reached up and grasped his hand, placing it against her cheek.

Still holding his hand, Brigid glanced at the table. “What is the green stone in the hilt of your sword?” She felt him stiffen slightly, as he released his hand from hers.

Duncan walked slowly over to the sword, partially unsheathing it. “The stone is from Eirinn, blest by the fae when they came to this land. Legend says that the color so reminded them of their home, they anointed it with dragon’s fire.” Duncan ran his finger over the surface of the stone and then placed it back inside the pouch.

“Duncan, we call this stone Connemara marble and it still exists in what we call Ireland.”

A look of shock marred his features as he turned quickly at her words. “How can this be?”

“It seems the faery, or fae, left a huge amount in the mountains on the west of Ireland, or as you call it—
Eirinn
.
”

Rubbing a hand over the shadow of his beard, he shook his head in disbelief. “Brigid, what
is
the year ye are from?”

“Duncan, perhaps you should come and sit before I tell you.” She held out her hand and motioned him to come to the bed.

He narrowed his eyes, and fisted his hands on his hips. “Nae! What
is
the year?”

Brigid tried hard not to smile. He looked so scrumptious
and
stubborn at the same time, giving her his best glare while he stood stark naked in front of her.

“Okay, fine. I don’t know if you remember that I did mention eight hundred years?”

He shook his head no, slowly.

“Can you handle the year 2013?”

Duncan’s eyes did not even blink, nor did he move any muscles. He just stood very still. Brigid feared the shock was too much until she saw him swallow. Instantly, he was at her side in two strides.

Taking her head in his hands, he stared into her eyes, whispering, “Ye must be mighty special to the fae, for them to take ye from your time and whisk ye back here,
leannan
.” His breath was warm, and she melted into his embrace as he smothered her against his chest and the furs.

****

Brigid woke later in the night, still in Duncan’s arms. Moving slightly, she saw he was awake and gazing out toward the window, a frown creasing his forehead. “A penny for your thoughts?” she uttered softly.

“Huh?” asked Duncan.

“Sorry, just a saying we use when we notice someone is deep in thought.” Brigid gave him a smile and brushed her fingers across the frown on his face.

Duncan continued to stare out at the window. “Do ye wish to return to your own time?” He asked softly.

Brigid sat up and looked at Duncan. “Do
you
want me to stay?”

Her heart started to beat wildly. What if he didn’t want her? She cursed too much, could probably not keep a house, much less a castle. Wait a minute...this was Cormac’s home. Where did Duncan live? Urquhart Castle?

He turned his head to look at her, keeping his emotions to himself. What if’s...that’s all she had. She went over what would happen to her heart
if
she left him. He might as well take his sword and stab her now, because returning to her own time would do the same.

“No,” she whispered.

His mask of steel stripped by that one word, and he uttered a deep sigh, and her heart soared. “Aye,
leannan
I
do
want ye to stay.” He reached out, touched her riot of curls, and spun them between his fingers. “Ye do not mind spending the rest of your life with a monster?”

“Are you asking me to marry you?”

“Aye. I am of the old religion. Does it bother ye?” His eyes held hers and waited.

“No, I will mar...handfast with you on one condition, Duncan.”

His hand froze. “What is it?”

“Quit saying you’re a monster, because I don’t believe for one second you are one. Yes, you made a horrible mistake in judgment, but something else was going on that night. I think it’s long overdue on finding out the truth.”

“I killed my sister. That is
not
a mistake in judgment,” he snapped.

Brigid pounded her chest with her fist. “Duncan, I sense there was an evil present on that night, and I don’t suspect it was you and your brothers.”

She watched as he clenched his jaw, but he kept silent.

“Will you accept my condition?” Brigid watched as his steady gaze bore into her, causing her to believe he wasn’t going to accept. A simple one she reflected, realizing she was asking a great deal of him.

Brigid waited patiently as he battled with the decision.

“Brigid O’Neill, I accept your condition.”

With those words, she saw the heart-rending tenderness in his eyes. Grasping his face, she brought her lips down to his, unlocking his soul and heart with her kiss.

“Duncan?” His hands started their pleasurable descent over her body.

“Where do ye want me to pleasure ye?” His eyes shifted to her naked breasts.

“I think we need to talk to someone about that night.” Brigid let out a moan as Duncan placed another kiss along her collarbone with his hand gently kneading her breast.

“Aye, I’ve already thought of it, too,” his breath hot against her skin.

“Then you know who I mean?”

Lifting his head from his pursuit of her body, he answered, “I shall seek out Cathal in the morning. He will give us council on this, and the other, too.”

“What other?” she asked, leaning more into him.

“The one of handfasting, lass. I
have
accepted your condition.”

Brigid’s eyes went wide. “Oh Duncan, do you truly think Cathal can help?”

“He is a great and powerful druid, so aye, I believe he can.”

The idea that Cathal could help sent her heart soaring, but before she could ask any further questions, Duncan started kissing her shoulder, and she moved toward him, impelled by her own passion. Her hands caressed his broad shoulders.

“Where do ye want me to explore next?” Duncan was kissing the spot below her ear, which he deduced to be one of her favorite pleasure spots. Then taking his fingers, he teased the curls at the center of another pleasurable area.

“Everywhere,” she gasped. Her body melted against his and her world filled with him.

Chapter 42

“If on a clear starry night, when you tilt your head a certain way you can see the doors to Tir na Og.”

“Judas’s balls! How long has he been in there?” Alex paced back and forth in front of Michael’s chambers, his hands clenched behind his back.

Patrick leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, his expression a mask of stone. “Lachlan’s been with him most of the morning. It seems the news he brings is one for his ears only.”

Alex’s face twisted with cold fury. He glanced back at the door and walked over to Patrick, clamping his hand on his shoulder. “Brother, we need to talk and best we do it not here in the corridor. Agreed?”

Patrick’s smile was without humor. “I pondered when ye would want to talk about the druid.”

“Come, I have some wine in my chambers,” motioned Alex.

“Stealing from the cellar again?” Patrick gave a low chuckle.

“Nae, not from ours.” His mouth curved into a mischievous smile. “From Cormac Murray’s.”

Patrick’s eyebrows rose in amazement. “Ye jest?”

Alex’s laughter was low as he shook his brother before glancing back at the door. “Let us drink and I shall tell ye what I have learned.”

They descended through the long corridor. Alex caught up with one of his men, giving him orders to send for him when Lachlan finished speaking with their laird.

Upon entering his chambers, Alex went over and retrieved the bottle of wine he had in his pack. “I would rather share this with our brother, but as ye can see I am not sure where his loyalties are.”

Patrick was quiet for a moment, more interested in how Alex got the wine from the Murray. He watched as Alex poured some into two mugs, handing him one. He proceeded to sniff the contents and a frown wrinkled his brows. “It is elderberry wine, Alex. Did ye realize that?”

“Nae, never asked when Sean gave it to me.” He took a swig, letting it settle in his mouth. “Not bad, brother. The Murray knows his stuff.”

“My preference is whisky, as ye well ken.” Taking a swallow, he nodded as he glanced up. “Ye are right, not bad.”

Patrick took another swig, then arched a brow in question. “Tell me, Alex, how did Sean happen to steal the Murray’s wine?” Holding his palm up to stop the negative response forthcoming from Alex, he added, “Do not take me for a fool, brother.” Placing the mug on the table, he faced his brother, hands fisted on his hips. “Does this have anything to do with Adam?”

Alex took one last draw from his mug and placed it down alongside Patrick’s. Striding over to the window arch that overlooked the stables, he rubbed his hand over his rough beard. “Sean is keeping watch over Castle Creag, since Duncan Mackay has been on a guest there this past year.” He let out a sigh before continuing, “Also, Duncan now has a woman with him as guest of the Murray. Her name is Lady Brigid O’Neill.”