Emerald Embrace (31 page)

She hesitated. “Bryan, if you have come home, where is Elaina’s fiancé?”

“I don’t know,” he told her. “I just don’t know. Niall was taken prisoner at Gettysburg. I have friends searching for him, but no one has heard from him since.”

“Oh, my God,” Martise said. “Then he is dead. Surely, he is dead. The prison camps—”

“I survived a summer in a Georgia camp,” he told her roughly. “Niall might well be alive. Don’t bury him on Elaina until it must be done.”

“But she must know—”

“Nay, you must know. She loved him. Elaina loves fiercely, and completely, with all of her heart. She will wait forever, if need be.”

“But she should not!” Martise said. “By God, can no one in your house be happy?” she demanded, twisting around to see his face.

“We all have moments,” he told her. “Moments. Such as tonight.” His eyes were glittering, and not upon her, but staring straight at the trail ahead. She felt a blinding of tears dampen her lashes and she swung back around.

Moments …

They were leaving the green magic behind them, the shadows of the night. And the moment was over.

She blinked back the tears. “I shall have more than moments!” she announced coldly. “I pity Elaina, for she has lost one brother, a fiancé, and must live beneath your thumb!”

“You will live beneath my thumb, too, my love. Are you forgetting our forthcoming nuptials?”

“Indeed, I am, for they shall be entirely forgettable. They will not be real, milord—”

“But they will. By law. For the moment.”

“Then I’ll not—” she began, but he had suddenly reined in Lucian and gone tense. Fear—gone so long from her now!—invaded her system once again. “What is it?” she asked tensely.

“The cove—this must be the cove. Stay here,” he told her. He leapt down from the horse.

“Bryan! Bryan, no!” she cried. But he was gone. In the moonlight she could see him hurrying through the trees. She saw only the darkness of his form as he paused and kicked aside the remnants of a fire. He stood very still for several moments.

She started to breathe again, realizing she had held her breath from the second he had left her.

He strode back for the horse and leapt up behind her. “Aye, there was something there. A group of some kind.” He nudged the stallion into a smooth, slow canter. The gait brought them quickly to the main road, and once they were upon it, he slowed again. They were nearly to the castle.

“Why do you deny witchcraft?” she asked softly. “Your people are superstitious. I think that they do still believe in ancient gods and prophesies and—”

“Martise, would you turn the whole of a good and God-fearing people into a clan of murderous lunatics? Aye, they have their quirks, and we have our games, and we tell tales by the full moon. But none is practicing witchcraft. Not sacrificing maidens and the like, and all. And besides, if they needed a maiden, you’d not fit the bill a single bit.”

She wanted to hit him. “’Tis only recent,” she murmured, and added indignantly, “I came as a widow—”

“Aye, ’twas your mistake. Had I believed in your purity, you might still maintain it.”

“Really?” she demanded, tossing back her head. “Would anything have stopped the laird of the castle from his desires?”

“We’ll never know, will we?” he cross-queried, and she felt the warmth of his gaze, and the laughter within his words.

“You should be slapped.”

“You’ve tried oft enough,” he reminded her.

“Take care. One day I shall succeed.”

“Indeed, perhaps you will. And yet, I wonder, here I am offering a perfect solution. I wish to wed you for reasons of my own; perhaps you should wish to wed me as well. After all, mistress, you have been seduced, debauched, some might say. And marriage is the customary remedy for such a thing.”

She stiffened. The walls of the castle tower rose before her. Lucian walked them ever closer.

She lifted up on the pommel, turning to him. “Your reasons, and my own, milord, are not the right ones!”

“They’re not?” he demanded.

“You wish a wife for bait to catch a killer—”

“I wish your safety, I swear that!” he said heatedly, eyes narrowing.

“Aye, you intend to keep your bait safe!” she snapped back.

“I would think you’d want to catch the killer,” he said.

“I do! But it is not a reason for marriage.”

“But what of the destruction of your innocence?” he queried politely. There was a hard edge to his voice.

“Oh, I should learn to live with it, milord. It is not the right reason for marriage!”

“And what is?” he demanded.

“Love,” she returned, her eyes on his. Then she jumped down from the horse.

He could have stopped her then. It seemed that he chose not to.

“Good night, Laird Creeghan,” she told him.

“Good night? Is that all?”

“Indeed.”

“Ah, well, perhaps I can be more eloquent. Good night—and thank you. Mistress, I have never known such a lover,” he said gallantly … and mockingly.

Martise turned on her heel, her hair and his cloak flying out around her. She entered the great hall and found that Elaina had been there, all this time, waiting for her.

“Martise! Oh, we were all so distressed. My brother was beside himself, thinking that you were missing. But he found you!”

She accepted Elaina’s hug. “Oh, yes, he found me,” she said.

“You’re shivering. I’ll tell Holly you’re home. There’ll be a warm bath in minutes. Brandy, I must get you some brandy. Hogarth! Martise has come home. Bring something quickly, please!”

And Hogarth did bring something quickly, his warmed wine with cinnamon, and a huge lamb chop with mint jelly and potatoes and greens, and to her surprise, Martise found she was famished. She thanked Hogarth and told Elaina only that she had wandered in the woods, and yes, the laird of Creeghan was home, too, but she did not know why he had not come in.

“Probably seeing to that stallion of his himself,” Elaina told her, and poured her more wine. “Oh, I was so very worried! You mustn’t frighten us like that again, Martise. Please!”

“I didn’t mean to frighten anyone, truly,” she said. “I just needed to go riding.”

“Well, Robert said he warned you to stay to the main roads, but he knew you intended to take the trails.”

“He did, did he?”

“Aye, he told Bruce that he could see it in your eyes, and Bruce rather angrily agreed that you liked to defy people.”

Martise flushed. “That’s not true.” She stared down at her plate. Robert! Robert McCloud with his evil, knowing grin! Had he known that she was in the woods … because he had been in them himself?

She shivered and Elaina leapt up. “Come on, I’m sure your bath is ready by now. I’ll walk you up.”

Holly was in the room, adding the last of the water. She welcomed Martise back warmly, with tears in her eyes. Martise hugged her maid and promised that she would be very careful in the future.

Both women would have stayed; Martise shooed them out, wanting, needing, to be alone.

She stripped away her clothing and sank into the bath. The steam whirled around her, and she luxuriated in the sweet-smelling rose soap that Holly always remembered to bring her.

You cannot wash me away …

He had told her that. And she knew that she could not.

Nor did she want to. No matter what came in the future, she did not want to forget. She knew herself that what they had shared was extraordinary.

Was it because she was in love with him? Or was there something else that ruled such things? Was passion her own mistress?

It did not matter. Just as she had been famished, she was exhausted. She leaned against the bath and closed her eyes. When she opened them, she nearly screamed. He was back in the room, leaning against the mantel, watching her. His eyes were fire, his hair was still tousled, and he was very nonchalant and entirely too comfortable and casual in his stance. “Shh!” he warned.

“I should scream!” she hissed angrily. “How dare you dance in and out of a guest’s room—”

“I didn’t ‘dance.’ I came by the secret passage.”

“Damn your secret passages!”

“I merely wish that I knew them all!” he returned.

She groped for her towel and drew it to her breast as she stood.

There was no reason to hold a towel against him. None at all. They both knew it; his mocking gaze conveyed it. But he made no comment about it, merely stepping toward her. And when she would have cried in protest, thinking he meant to snatch it away, he merely pulled it up higher upon her shoulders.

She jerked away and almost toppled over the tub. “What are you doing in here?” she demanded breathlessly as he righted her.

An ebony brow shot up. “I warned you that I would be your shadow.”

She trembled. She needed to be away from him so badly, and he was back here with her. And when she stood naked and wet, the memories were almost more than she could bear.

She shook her head strenuously. “I don’t want you in here. Not tonight. Maybe not any night. I’m not denying anything that has happened, I’m just not ready for it to happen again. You have to go. Please. I—I will not make love with you again!”

His lips curled in a slow, taunting smile. “I did not come to make love, Martise.” He walked away from her and tossed her the nightgown that Holly had set out for her. It fell to her feet, and she stared down at it stupidly. “Put it on!” he ordered hoarsely.

She hated to obey him, hated to obey anything that he said. But she reached down and secured the gown. The towel fell as she slipped the gown over her head.

Her eyes met his again.

He had not looked away. He walked over to the door and tried the bolt, then went to the balcony doors and assured himself that they, too, were secure.

Then he strode back into the room. She still stared at him. He smiled and swept an arm toward her bed. “You bade me good night before. I imagine that you are tired. Please, don’t let me keep you awake.”

She didn’t move. He was in the process of stripping off his shirt.

“What are you doing?” she demanded anxiously.

“I’m going to take a bath.”

“Here?”

“Well, the tub is here. And the water is still steaming. And it was quite cold out there.” His shirt fell to the floor.

“You’ve got your own very elegant bath!” she reminded him. “You’re the master of Creeghan, remember?”

“I remember. You seem to forget,” he taunted. Then his patience seemed to leave him. “Go to bed, Martise. I’m going to take a bath and sleep in the chair. I’ll not disturb you or awaken you. But I will be here.”

“Your cloak is downstairs, if that is what you’re looking for,” she grated.

“Thank you—and I do not need my cloak at the moment. Now, if you will, Martise, please go to bed. Tomorrow promises to be a very long day. And for this evening, I am going to be here.”

She didn’t move, merely stared. He couldn’t just come in here like this and stay!

But it seemed he had determined that he could.

He pulled off his boots and started with his breeches. He smiled. “Martise, one more time. I will be here—whether you like it or not.”

She fled across the room, leapt into the bed, and pulled the covers to her chin. She heard a whisper of air as his breeches fell, and then she heard him sigh with pleasure as he stepped into the warmth of the tub.

She closed her eyes, but heard him still. Bathing, resting, luxuriating in the water.

Her water. It wasn’t fair.

He couldn’t stay forever!

“You know,” she said primly from beneath her covers, “you can’t wash me away.”

She didn’t dare look at him, but she could sense his slow smile.

“But I’m not trying to wash you away,” he said softly. And then there was silence.

Minutes later, she heard him rise. Heard him drying himself before the fire.

Then she felt the coverlet being drawn from her bed and she tensed.

He had lied! He was going to come rushing down beside her!

But he did not.

Even as she clenched her eyes tightly closed, she heard him move across to the chair and settle in it.

Hours later, she dared to open her eyes to see him there. Her body trembled. If he had touched her, she thought with amazement, she would have easily fallen into his arms.

Yet…

Even this was good. Just having him near was good. She closed her eyes and pulled the covers back up, and in time, she slept, a smile curving her lips, her slumber as peaceful as that of a child.

Because he watched over her, by night. Until the morning’s light…

And yet, if she had only known what the morning would bring—the tempest and the anger—her dreams might have never been so sweet.

I
n the morning, he was gone.

Martise had expected to find him in her room when she awoke, but she was alone. She dressed hastily and hurried down to the great hall.

It was early, and though the rest of the family was in the hall, Bryan was nowhere in sight. Elaina was at the table, stirring sugar into her tea. Ian was across from her, and Conar and Peter were at the buffet, preparing plates.