Emerald Embrace (43 page)

“It’s all right,” she said softly.

“Nay, ’tis not! I left you. And Peter nearly killed you, and then I hear that Jemie nearly bricked you into the wall!”

She pulled his arms more tightly around her. “You would have found me. I know you would have.”

He turned her around in his arms. “Ye mean, lass, that I should imprison you within the castle wall meself to be sure that I know where ye’re at?”

She started to smile, but then was taken with trembling and shuddered instead. Holding her, Bryan started back for the path. “I need to get you back into bed, with a cold cloth upon that bump and warm covers to yer chin,” he told her. His eyes were still warm, very, very warm, a greater blaze than she had ever known before.

Then he paused, and he turned back to the sea. And exhaled softly. “There she goes, Martise,” he said. “There she goes. The ship. Do you see her out there, far from the shore?”

And she did see the ship, far out to sea.

Safe from the Dragon’s Teeth.

“Aye!”

“Ye’ve saved her, my love, as much as any of us.”

“No, I—”

“Aye, I could not find the right passage. I could not trap the wreckers without knowing where they came. Robert and I searched night after night forever, it seemed. And I became ever more certain that my uncle was the head of the ring. I could not go to Conar and Ian until I was nearly certain I could trust them—and until I had some proof. And you gave me that. So those poor souls upon that ship survive tonight because of you.”

“And I survived,” she whispered, “because of you.”

He smiled and kissed her lips gently and walked with her through the long tunnel that no longer seemed evil. In the warmth of his arms, Martise closed her eyes, and by the time he had brought her from the cellar to the stairs and along the corridor to the master’s chamber, she was lost in a world of darkness, sunk deeply into a dreamless sleep.

    When she awoke, someone was with her, bathing her forehead, making her warm, making her comfortable. She opened her eyes.

Elaina was there. “I didna mean to waken you!” she said softly. “Just to make you sleep more easily.”

“Elaina,” she murmured. And then she knew that Bryan had told his sister everything. And Elaina must know now that Bruce was dead and that Bryan had taken his place.

And her uncle, too, was dead.

Martise sat up. “Elaina, I am so sorry—”

“Don’t be,” she said. “Lie back. They were both my brothers, ye know. I’ve thought for a long time that our laird was Bryan, and if that was so, then Bruce was dead. The truth now is better, Martise. Aye, there is pain. But I think we are closer for it, Bryan, Ian, Conar, and me. And you, Martise. I lost Mary, but I have you.”

“I’m not really her sister—” Martise began.

“I know. Bryan told me everything. And dear God, but I am sorry I had you wear that dress! It might have caused Jemie to—”

“It caused nothing, Elaina,” Martise assured her. And she shivered, thinking that there had been a time when she even suspected Elaina. She hugged her impulsively. “Oh, Elaina, I hope there will be some happiness for you soon. Truly, I do!”

“I am happy,” Elaina assured her.

“But I hope that you fall in love—”

“As you are in love?” Elaina asked her shrewdly.

Martise smiled. “Aye, as I am in love, Elaina.”

“But I am still in love,” Elaina said, and she smiled. “I will wait forever.” She blew out the candle at Martise’s side, and rose. At the door she added softly, “One must always have faith,” she said, and left.

    Martise awoke warm and secure, the cloak and the remnants of the old bridal gown stripped away, a soft flannel nightdress in their place. Her sister-in-law had seen to her comfort. She touched her temple, and there was still a lump there, but it was small.

As she struggled to fully open her eyes and sit up, she discovered Bryan was with her. Bathed and dressed in a fawn frock coat, white shirt, and fawn breeches, he seemed younger than she had known him, handsome with his dark hair smoothed back, fresh-shaven features set in a tender smile.

“Good morning,” he told her.

She smiled.

He took her hand, but was silent, uncharacteristically silent, for the longest time. Then he said softly, “You know that I love you, Martise, do you not?” He rose, walking to the window, hands in his pockets. “I know that ye canna love this castle, Martise. Aye, or this place, for it has brought you nothing but pain and heartache. And I doubt, too, that ye could really love the laird of this castle, for it seems that I, too, have brought you little but trouble and heartache.” He turned back to her, leaning against the wall. “But ye are my wife in truth, ye know. And I do love you. I do not know when you so seduced my heart, for I was certain you were a thieving tart when you first arrived. And even then …”

His voice trailed away. Heart pounding, Martise stood, facing him. “Even then, my lord?” she murmured.

“Even then, I wanted you,” he said bluntly. “I wanted you with a burning that threatened to destroy my very soul. And when I touched you …”

She took slow, sure steps that brought her standing directly before him. She slipped her arms around his waist and came up on her toes, pressing the softness of her breasts and the length of her body against him. She brushed his lips with hers.

“When you touched me … ?”

He groaned, pulling her into his arms, returning her kiss with a wild and vivid passion that rocked her and rendered her trembling, and wanting in return. But he lifted his lips from hers and whispered above them, “Once I touched you, I was yours forever. I could not bear not to touch you again and again. Not to have you. Not to force you, to keep you, to demand you … Not to love you,” he said at the last, and his breath mingled with hers.

Her lips curled in a subtle smile, and she could not move away. “My laird?”

“I love you, Martise.”

“Oh …” she whispered.

“Damn!” he swore suddenly, vociferously. “Will ye not say it, lass!”

Her smile deepened and he swept her off the ground and back to the bed, and lay over her, and his lips seared hers, and his thumb stroked her cheek and parted her lips, and he broke away and kissed her forehead and her chin and her earlobe and her throat and the hot, wet fire of his demand came over her, creating desperate trails of desire throughout her blood, throughout her limbs. And she tried to grasp hold of him, running her fingers through his hair, but he could not cease to touch her.

In a frenzy Bryan tore the gown from her, rending fabric and tiny delicate buttons, and not caring in the least. And straddled over her, he cast aside his shirt with the same careless abandon, and came down on her again, chest muscles rippling against her bared breasts, the dark hair teasing her flesh and eliciting an ever-surging spiral of desire to beat more strongly within her. His lips coerced, demanded, ravaged, and came tender again, and then he paused, just above her lips. “I have to tell you …”

“Tell me!” she demanded heatedly.

“Nay, not now!” he cried, “for I will have it from you, little Rebel, I shall!”

She smiled and stole his kiss again. And she begged him to breathe his fire within her, but he ignored her, stoking her body with his desire, with raw, ragged demand. With a kiss and a stroke, with an intimacy that brought her trembling and undulating beneath him, and no longer taunting, but begging anew.

And he rose above her, strong, so strong, and pulsing at the very apex of her need, and he smiled. “Nay, love, I’ll not be had so easily,” he teased. And so she cried out in frustration and caught his lips, nipping, licking, kissing …

And whispering at last, “Aye, Laird Creeghan, I love you! Love you so much that I followed you no matter where you led. I dreamed that you were the dragon laird, sworn to take my life, and still, I could not leave you. Aye, Bryan Creeghan, I love you. With all of my heart, all of my soul, all of my life!”

He let out a cry, something like a Rebel yell, yet wilder still, more ancient, like the Highlands themselves.

And then he was within her, part of her.

And the wind took them. The wind that was the beauty of Creeghan, wild and exciting, dangerous, sometimes violent, sometimes tender, and always, always, filled with the passion of the sea and the sky and the thunder.

He loved her deeply and well, and when she thought that she was sated beyond belief, he loved her once again. And she was filled, and trembling, and so swept by the ecstasy that she clung to him, unwilling to be parted. Unwilling to ever leave his side.

His hand cupped her head and pulled her close, and he placed a gentle kiss on her hair. “I had thought that we should go to the States,” he said

She bolted up. “You meant that?”

Dark lashes shielded his fire eyes as he stretched back lazily. “Aye, of course. We both need to be away. Ian and Conar know more about the castle estates than I do.” He frowned suddenly. “Why? Elaina mentioned it to you—she told me.”

Martise flushed furiously. “I thought that—”

“Ah. Saying that I was taking you to the States would make it possible for me to have you disappear—into a castle wall, I imagine.”

“Well, I—”

He pulled her back into his arms. “I do have quite a bit of mistrust to forgive you for, you know, girl.”

“I didn’t really say—”

He rolled over her and said intently, “I think it is something we both need to do.”

“Aye,” she whispered, eyes shining. “And I’ll bring you to Eagle’s Walk.”

He pushed away, rising, and for a moment she wondered what she had said or done to cause him to leave her. He padded naked to his frock coat and reached within a pocket. He cupped something in his palm and then smiled ruefully as he laid it between her breasts. He lifted his hand away and she gasped, stunned, as she stared down at the green firelights of her emerald, dazzling in the morning light.

“My God! You found it! Why didn’t you tell me?”

He shrugged. “I tried to. Well, all right, I didn’t try very hard. I had to hear you say that you loved me. The emerald was what you wanted. And I didn’t actually find it. Jemie knew where it was all along. Bruce had set it in the folds of Mary’s skirts when he entombed her. He thought it would be the safest place. Bruce knew that something was going on. He couldn’t quite catch Peter. I believe he knew that you might come, and I think he meant to keep the emerald safe in the only way he saw possible. When I talked with Jemie, he told me.”

“Jemie! What of Jemie?”

“I’ve sent him to Edinburgh, to a friend, a doctor. He’s going to work with him. Peter played horrible tricks on his mind. But with time and care, perhaps, in a few years, he will be back with us. I don’t know.”

He paused, staring at the gem. “I wasn’t sure I wanted you to have it. It was your escape. And yet, if you would just say that you loved me, I knew I would never let you leave me. Not even for Eagle’s Walk.”

Her fingers closed around the gem and she threw her arms around her husband. “I’ll never leave you!” she whispered. “Not even for Eagle’s Walk.”

“But we will go back to Virginia. And without your emerald. It’s to be saved. For our children. My love, I am a very rich man. A dark, dangerous laird, mayhap, but rich. And you forget, I fought your war. And I still love your land.”

“Laird Creeghan, I love your castle, too. Oh, Bryan! I am delighted that we will keep Eagle’s Walk! But I will live with you wherever you desire. I do love you. With all of my heart!”

She kissed him. And he kissed her in return. And fires might have risen between them all over again.

But there was a fierce tapping on the door, and Ian called out excitedly, “Bryan! Bryan Creeghan. I donna mean to interrupt you, man, but get yer pants on!”

Bryan’s brows shot up as he looked down at Martise. “Impertinent bloke, I dare say.”

“See what he wants,” she urged, pulling the covers to her chest as he rose to slide into his breeches. He strode to the door and threw it open.

“What the bloody hell is it, Ian?”

Ian grinned, undaunted by his tone. “Ye’ll not be lieve this. Ye must come down, and now.” He looked past Bryan to Martise and winked. “Niall MacNeill has come home at last. He and Elaina are down in the hall together. And if you don’t come, and quickly, and make some arrangements, well, I’ll not answer for my ability to keep your sister chaste!”

“Niall is home!” Bryan exclaimed.

“Aye, and that he is.”

“Jesu!” Bryan exclaimed. “We’ll be right there!” He closed the door and came back to the bed and lifted Martise up and swung her around. Then he buried his face against her throat, and he murmured, “Thank God! There’s always a give and take, is there not, my love? God took my brother and Mary and … Peter, but now he has given us back Niall, and most importantly, he has given me you.”

She smiled and tousled his hair, and thought of Elaina’s words. “One must always have faith!” she had said, and hugged him fiercely to her. “And, my love, I swear, from this moment onward, all my faith shall be in you.”

He kissed her gently, and she struggled in his arms. “My dear laird husband! We must see to your sister’s nuptials!”

He laughed and set her down, and they helped one another dress, and then left the room. Arm in arm, they walked along the hallway, and then suddenly, at the top of the stairs, he turned to her.

And he pulled her close and kissed her lightly. “My love, you are ever my lady!”

She flushed, and she raised on tiptoe and kissed him in return. “And you, sir, are ever my wondrous dragon laird. And I should not survive without your fire.”

He smiled, took her arm again, and led her down the great sweeping stairs to the hall of Castle Creeghan, where the shadows had all been dispersed, and the light of day came pouring in.