Legacy of the Mist Clans Box Set (52 page)

“Nay,” she said, her hands trying to pull him back.

His lips lifted and a giddy joy filled him. He pulled her on top of him and gazed into her beautiful eyes. His hand reached up and caressed her face, stroking through the locks of her still damp hair. Never in his life had he experienced such intensity while making love to a woman. As she gazed at him, her hazel eyes still smoky with desire, he knew it was her trust in him, her faith that he would never hurt her, that made all the difference. He knew instinctively he would only experience it with her. Her trust in him allowed her to give herself over completely. In turn, it allowed him to do the same. Never before had he given so totally, nor had he been given such a great gift, and it completely changed the way he would view lovemaking forevermore.

“Ye are my sweet, bonny lass,” he murmured. She was still shaking. As intense as it had been for him, how much more so had it been for her? She wrapped her arm around his waist and settled her head on his chest. He pulled the blankets over them, his rattling pulse finally calming. He simply savored holding her close and marveled at the wonder of it.

HHH

Now this is the way tae awaken in the morning,
Ronan thought once again as he blinked open his eyes. He pulled Lia tight against him and propped himself up on his elbow, his head resting against his hand as he simply watched her sleep. The memory of what they had shared last night was still perfectly vivid. Finally, he could stand no more. He lowered his head and gently nibbled her ear.

She gave a breathy sigh then flinched. “Ronan,” she protested sleepily, “that tickles.”

He lifted his head and smiled down at her, although she didn’t seem to have opened her eyes just yet. “And discovering all of your ticklish spots will be a delightful adventure,” he murmured. “That is, if you’ll have me.”

That got her to open her eyes, and she blinked up at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“My sweet, bonny lass, I am asking if ye will marry me.”

For an instant, she stared at him, stunned, then joy sparked in her hazel eyes. “Aye, Ronan,” she whispered. “I will marry you.” She hesitated, a small frown blurring her brow. “But are you certain your clan would approve? You’ve worked so hard to earn their trust and respect again.”

His lips lifted as he gazed down at her. “Actually, I think they’ve been planning the wedding of their laird for at least the past month. The only two who weren’t aware of it were ye and I.”

She bit back a laugh. “Of course,” she said, grinning at him.

He sat up in bed and stretched, joints popping. “I should get below stairs; I shall have tae keep a close eye on Longshanks.”

She nodded, moved a little, and groaned.

“Lia?” he asked, worry growing within him.

She managed to move the blankets enough so he could see her injured leg. It was a ghastly shade and appeared painfully swollen.

“Lia, this appears much worse than we originally thought.”

“I know,” she said tightly. “But I still don’t think anything is broken.”

“Ye be staying off of it,” he growled, daring her to argue with him.

She gave him an arched looked as if that was exactly what she intended to do, but her expression eased as she apparently thought better of it. “How about if I stay right here and wait for your return?”

The thinly veiled invitation sent his blood to boiling and need roared within him.

“It just occurred tae me, why in the hell would I want tae leave ye alone in my bed?”

She giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I was just wondering the same thing.” He kissed her and she again responded to him with all of herself, with complete trust and faith in him. Experiencing such a thing stole his breath away. His stomach picked that moment to rumble loudly.

Lia pulled away. “You’re getting yelled at.”

“It can wait,” he growled and again tried to pursue her.

“You should break your fast, Ronan.”

“The only meal I want is you.”

R
onan dressed but kept one eye on Lia as she sat up in his bed, covering herself with the linens. She grimaced as she bent her sore leg to touch the floor.

“Dinna dare try tae stand on yer own,” he growled.

“I know better than that,” she said and grimaced again. “But I need to get a change of clothes and mix up some medicants. They will help lessen the pain.”

He nodded and strode for the door. “I’ll be right back.”

Before she could reply, he closed the door behind him. Lia’s clothes hung on the line in the bailey alongside his. He quickly grabbed everything he thought she would need and tossed it over his shoulder. He then returned to the keep and up the damaged stairs. He entered his solar, surprised to see Aidan and several servants already working in it.

“Ronan,” Aidan said in surprise. “I didna expect tae see ye for most of the day.”

Ronan grinned at him and gripped his shoulder. “She said aye. I wanted tae be the first tae tell ye.”

Aidan blinked as if he had no idea what Ronan meant, but understanding quickly dawned. “Ye dog! Now there be some witchery there tae get the lassie tae agree.”

“In truth, I worked my magic last night.”

Aidan guffawed and slapped him on the back.

Ronan waited until his brother could breathe again. “Aidan, yer birds, do ye have any in the area of Cumbria?”

Aidan nodded. “One or two. Since Longshanks has been focused east of us, I’ve concentrated my birds there.”

“Aye, but I need one tae investigate,” Ronan said and explained the conversation he had with Lia regarding her past. “I believe there is a good chance she came from a noble family.”

“That would make sense,” Aidan agreed. “I will send word tae him and let ye ken.”

“Thank ye, Aidan. I actually came up tae find my cane. Lia has need of it.”

“I think it be in the corner where ye left it.”

Ronan fetched it, examining the wood closely to make sure it was not damaged. “I also need tae borrow Lachlan for a moment. Lia has need of her medicant chests.”

“Aye,” Aidan said and nodded to the lad. “The last I saw, the medicants were under the pavilion in the bailey.”

“Thank ye,” he said. “I’ll be up tae help in a bit.” He turned for the door and stepped out.

“Take yer time,” Aidan called after him.

Ronan felt his lips lift. “Be careful what ye wish for. Ye may just get it.”

HHH

Two days had passed and Ronan was helping Aidan and several others sort through the damage in the solar. Even though he had to tolerate the bawdy jests from his brother and everyone else, he took it all with a wink and a smile. A knock sounded on the damaged door and Ronan looked up, surprised to see Alba.

“Pray pardon, but ye be needed below stairs, young MacGrigor.”

Aidan looked up and scowled, but he nodded. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

“I ken better than tae tell ye tae take yer time,” Ronan said. “I’d ne’er see ye again.”

Aidan laughed and waved him off as he disappeared through the door.

Ronan turned back to the debris littering his solar. They had already tossed the worst of it; the entire bed was ruined. It and the massive beam that had nearly killed Lia had been shoved through the gaping hole in the wall. Now they shoveled ash and smaller bits of debris into buckets. Very few pieces of furniture had survived, and most were already in his temporary quarters.

But as he surveyed the damage around him, he realized the task at hand was a massive one. He began to question if he would see an end to it.

“Sorry, lads,” Aidan said from the door.

Ronan looked at him and was instantly alarmed. He no longer smiled; in fact, his expression was tighter than Ronan had ever seen it.

Aidan stepped in. “Prayin’ yer pardon, I need tae speak with our laird for a moment.”

Ronan scowled at him, but the others quickly left the room, closing the damaged door as best they could.

“Something amiss?” Ronan asked.

“I believe so,” he said and pulled up a stool to sit on.

Ronan found another, not too badly burned. He righted it and also sat.

“A messenger just arrived . . . le March is back,” Aidan said tightly.

“What?” Ronan asked, his jaw slack. “I didna hear the sentry’s cry.”

“He hasn’t returned with an army. He and his personal guard are camped a mile south of here, with Lairds MacFarlane and MacLaren. They’re requesting a parlay.”

The blood drained from Ronan’s face and his ears buzzed strangely. He rubbed his eyes. Damnation, he had not felt like this in at least a pair of months. He shook his head, trying to collect his wits.

“Nay,” he growled. “I’ll not allow the bastard tae set one foot within my home.”

“Ronan, ye dinna understand. Stirling is the last holdout of the Scottish rebellion. Ye ken Longshanks will take the keep, especially since he rebuilds the War Wolf. MacFarlane and MacLaren dare not anger the English now. With them supporting le March, if ye dinna honor the parlay, they will sever their alliances with us.”

Ronan stared at Aidan, not believing the words his brother had just uttered. “My God, Da must be turning o’er in his grave.”

Aidan could only nod in agreement.

“The battle is long over—they lost. What could this parlay be about?”

“I ken not,” Aidan said with a shrug. “I just ken what the messenger told me.”

“And ye be certain MacFarlane and MacLaren will sever ties if I refuse le March?”

“Aye, the messenger stressed that point.”

“Verra well,” Ronan’s voice lowered to a rumbling snarl. “I will meet with le March at Nones tomorrow, but tell the messenger that MacFarlane and MacLaren are tae meet with me first, an hour earlier. If they refuse, be certain they ken not only will I be severing ties, I’ll be severing heads from bodies.”

Aidan nodded and rose. “I will convey yer message.” He hesitated, his hand tugging through his hair.

“There is more?”

“Aye, but yer face be gray enough.”

“Tell me.”

Aidan drew a deep breath. “I heard from Gordy. He is still tracking down rumors, trying tae find evidence, but Ronan, the more he searches the more he is convinced. MacFarlane kenned the grain was blighted.”

The buzzing in his ears turned into a roar. Ronan rose to his feet, but it felt as if the floor undulated beneath him. He tried to ask Aidan a question, but when his brother looked at him oddly, he realized he had just slurred his words.

Damnation, not another one!

The roaring turned into a high-pitched squeal resounding through his skull. He tried to move, he tried to cover his ears, but his limbs refused to obey him. Then darkness descended.

HHH

Aidan stared in shock as his brother’s eyes rolled back in his head. He pitched forward and sideways as he struggled to control his fall, but already his limbs were no longer under his command. Then Aidan realized he staggered dangerously close to the gaping hole in the wall.

Aidan had never moved so fast in his life. Ronan nearly toppled through the hole, but Aidan managed to snag his arm and yank him back.

“Ronan!” he heard a woman scream from the bailey. Dear God, had Lia been out there? Had she seen what had almost happened?

“Lia!” Aidan roared. “He needs ye!” He prayed she could make it up the stairs on her injured leg. Aidan turned his full attention to his brother. The fit continued savagely. Aidan tried to remember all Lia had told him.
Don’t try to pin him. Turn him on his side
. He did so just as Lachlan helped Lia through the door.

Behind them hovered a gaggle of servants. Aidan spotted Alba. Her eyes remained locked on Ronan and her face paled. Aidan braced himself for her screams, but she didn’t utter a one. “Blessed Mary,” Alba whispered. “Please let him be all right.”

Lia knelt next to Ronan, her fear plain in her eyes. “Peace, Ronan, you are safe. You are at home.”

But the fit continued. Ronan choked, foam continuing to form in his mouth, but the fit wouldn’t ease enough for him to catch a decent breath.

“Lia, do something,” Aidan growled.

“There’s nothing I can do. The fit must run its course.”

“He can’t breathe. It will kill him!”

She shook her head, tears forming in her eyes. “Ronan,” she called. “Come back to me.” Aidan saw one tear trickle down her cheek, and a second quickly followed. The tears splashed on Ronan’s face.

The fit continued for one heartbeat, then another. Then, just as quickly as it had taken him, it left. Ronan suddenly relaxed, fighting to suck air into his lungs.

“Praise the saints,” Lia murmured and pulled him into her arms.

Ronan opened his eyes. At first they rolled wildly as he tried to identify his surroundings. Then he looked at Lia and the panic Aidan sensed within him eased. But he still could not move, nor could he speak.

“Lachlan,” Aidan said. “We need tae get him tae his quarters. I’ll take his head, ye take his feet.”

“Aye, young MacGrigor.”

Carefully they lifted Ronan and carried him out.

Lia rose, leaning heavily on Ronan’s old cane.

“Milady,” Alba said stepping forward and entwining her arm around Lia’s. “Let me help ye, those stairs be too precarious.”

“Thank you, Alba.”

Aidan and Lachlan cautiously carried Ronan out of the keep, with Alba helping Lia.

HHH

Lia’s entire body quaked and she felt as if a chill possessed her being. She had to stop this, she had to keep her head in order to help Ronan. But as she gazed at his pallid face, she understood the terror growing inside her. She truly loved him, and it was her fear of losing him, just as she had lost her family, that nearly crippled her. She drew a deep breath into her lungs, determined to control her fear. Aye, she loved Ronan and looked forward to becoming his wife, but right now he needed a healer, and she would not disappoint him.

Aidan and Lachlan placed him in his bed and helped remove his tunic and boots. “Lia, will ye be giving him more medicants?”

“After he wakes up. Trying to rouse him now will probably be an exercise in futility.”

“Lassie, right before the fit struck him, he gave me instructions tae arrange a meeting for tomorrow. But honestly, after the severity of this, I dinna think he will be prepared. I ken my brother; he will want all of his wits about him for this meeting.”

“Can you delay it?”

“I was considering simply scheduling it for two days hence.”

She studied Ronan a long moment. “Make it three.”

HHH

Ronan was grateful to his betrothed for telling Aidan to schedule the meeting three days later instead of the next as he originally wished.

Betrothed.

The term made his nerves coil, but not in a bad way. He stepped out of his temporary solar and his gaze scanned the bailey. Lia once again worked under the pavilion, but there were no wounded to treat. Her leg was healing, although she still used Ronan’s cane and tried to stay off of it as much as she could. It was now more black than blue, but her limp seemed to be lessening. She worked on her medicants, replacing those she had used, pressing some into oils and whatnot. Ronan realized that by making her his wife, in the future he would no doubt see all sorts of people coming to his keep seeking the aid of the healer who could work miracles.

As she had done with him.

Yet he knew he would have to be cautious about the people he permitted within his walls. Lia would not turn anyone away, but the safety of his clan came first, and Ronan abruptly realized he would need a plan to deal with that. He would speak to Aidan about it later, after he dealt with le March.

Just thinking of the bastard made Ronan’s anxiety jump tenfold, and he drew a deep breath into his lungs. In a very short amount of time, MacFarlane and MacLaren would arrive and Ronan hoped to get to the bottom of this foolishness. His gaze automatically slid to the open gates, gates that le March would be stepping through later. A black rage seethed in the pit of his belly and he clenched his fists. Le March was unfinished business and Ronan longed to put an end to it . . . by ending the bastard’s life.

“You will never be free!”

He battled to force the voice from his mind but wondered if he’d ever be truly free of it and the hatred residing in his soul. Again his gaze landed on Lia. He had defeated his hatred of her and now loved her more than life. But in truth, it was she who had defeated the blackness within him with her kindness and compassion.

In the past five days, since she started sharing his bed, he had awakened from the nightmares only once, and Lia had been there, her voice a soft soothing counter to le March’s mocking laughter. Her touch had pulled him from the black abyss his soul teetered upon during these episodes. But there remained one fear that he could not truly rid himself of. The feel of living flesh under his hands as his grip closed on le March’s neck.

Yet Lia still insisted he never touched her. Damnation, this didn’t make sense. If he had not, why was the sensation still so vivid? Still perfectly clear? The fact that the whole thing had been so instinctive, a primal reaction that he could barely acknowledge on a conscious level, let alone control, tormented him the most.

The terror that his hatred was so evil, that he might turn on her without realizing it, poisoned the joy he felt in loving her.

He stared down at his open hands, but he could not gaze upon them without noting the white scars on his wrists from the manacles that had chained him. His hands trembled and he clenched them into fists.

Even though Lia had encountered the hatred of the Demon Laird upon the night of her arrival, she did not fear him. He had startled her, he had worried her, his antics while stalking her in the shadows had frightened her . . . until she realized it was him. She had never, not once, been truly afraid of him . . . and . . . he swallowed hard with the realization. She had never run.

Ronan abruptly realized that if she ever looked upon him with terror in her eyes, he would not be able to bear it.

“Ronan?” her soft voice, suddenly next to him, startled him.

Lia gazed up at him, holding a cup in her hand.