The Healer (25 page)

‘Nae.’

Her forehead cleared and she seemed to sink deeper into the bed.

‘Any regrets?’ He had to know.

‘For not hurting you?’

He stared down at her. Was she teasing him? A small smile tilted the corners of her still swollen lips.

‘No, Will. I have no regrets,’ she said softly.

‘Good.’ His mouth relaxed. His pulse thudded wildly through his veins. ‘It is early yet. Eat if you’re hungry and bathe if you wish. I must see to Edan, but I will meet you in the great hall to escort you to the village.’

She nodded.

William escaped the chamber before he gave in to the need to make her his prisoner, a captive of his fierce passion and desire.

But he knew she wasn’t the only one in danger of being enslaved.

SAINT Jude, save her. She was in love with William Kirkpatrick.

Toppling onto her back, she clutched the coverlet tightly over her naked chest and squeezed her eyes shut. God and heaven’s angels. She was in love.

She was in trouble.

How could she have been so unaware of her feelings? Had she truly not known she was falling in love when her skin tingled at the sound of his voice? When her heart had fluttered on seeing him? When she’d craved his touch and yearned to caress him?

Only moments ago, she’d had to dig her fingers into the bedding surrounding her to stop from dragging William back onto the bed.

Wicked. Sinful.

Alive. In love.

Wrenching free of the covers, she pushed herself upright. Her sigh echoed about the room.

Lord above. What was she to do now?

Climbing from the high bed, her toes curled as her feet touched the cool timbered floor. She winced at the stiffness in her limbs and the unfamiliar soreness between her legs.

She peered at the tray of food and though it looked tempting, she decided to make use of the hot water first. Naked, feeling unusually daring, she tiptoed to the trunk behind the door and lifted the heavy lid. William’s scent drifted from the contents. Drawing a deep breath, she smiled. Within the trunk, she spied a pair of calf boots, several clay pots and the linen cloths she’d been searching for. After taking two cloths, she removed a stopper from one of the pots and took a few precious soap flakes before securing the jar and closing the chest.

Sprinkling the sandalwood scented slivers into the steaming water, she used the smaller cloth to freshen her skin. Each place she bathed triggered memories of William’s passionate attentions. Her cheeks, her neck, her sensitive breasts, all came to life as she skimmed the fabric over her body. She shivered and gentled her touch as she bathed the red-hued stickiness from her thighs and the tender place above.

The deep timbre of his voice when he’d questioned her, coupled with the strained expression on his face, showed his obvious concern for her. The food and heated water spoke of his thoughtfulness. But was he prepared to offer anything else? What more could she want?

Much more.

After drying, she donned her nightgown and carried the tray to the hearth. Sitting on the soft fur rug, she nibbled at the fare, silently telling herself she must be content.

Her mind understood, though her heart rebelled – a state she’d suffered since the day she was born. Yet she’d survived.

Returning the tray to the table, she straightened the coverlet and peered out the open window. Dawn was near. The heavy weight of longing pressed down upon her shoulders. She and William had no future together. She loved him, but couldn’t tell him.

Should he discover she was the outcast daughter of an English lord, he’d want to know all her secrets. She couldn’t bear to have him look at her with disgust, to shun her if the reasons for her disgrace were revealed. She’d earned his trust and couldn’t bear to lose it. Her heart would surely stop beating if he ever had cause to loathe her.

Straightening, she had no choice but to bury her dreams of shared love and focus on the harsh reality of her life. But she was determined to enjoy each moment and savour every experience with William while she was here.

She slipped down to her chamber undetected, dressed and fixed her hair in the usual style of a single thick braid. Then she sorted through the contents of her herb sack, as if this morning was the same as any other.

When she judged it time to meet William, she descended the stairs to the hall. Her belly fluttered with nerves and her palms grew hot and moist at the thought of seeing him again.

After making love, they’d spoken in fire-lit darkness. He’d stood before her, barefoot and handsomely dishevelled, while she’d been wrapped in the coverlet with the evidence of their intimacy still coating her inner thighs. Now, daylight pierced the shadows and there would be no more talk or teasing as lovers. Her heart whimpered in protest. She quieted it with steely resolve.

William stood at the bottom of the stairwell, neatly attired in fresh garments, his hair as tidy as his untamed soul allowed. His scorching gaze skimmed her from head to toe. Her body heated beneath his intense regard and heat filled her cheeks. On legs suddenly gone weak, she descended the last few stairs feeling that she might melt into a puddle at his booted feet.

‘Come.’

The warmth in his tone trickled through her like un-watered wine.

He turned for the keep’s entrance and she followed close behind. As they stepped outside into the blessed fresh air, he slowed his step.

‘You’re blushing,’ he said softly.

Her face flared hotter, and she ducked her head to hide the pleasured smile hovering on her lips.

William greeted Geordie as they climbed into the boat and Lynelle lifted her chin a notch to give the older man a glimpse of her smile.

Turning, she stared at the water, sure it seemed clearer today. The breeze was fresher, the early-morning sun warmer.

They alighted on the far shore and began the trek to the village.

‘My mother, Ilisa, walked this path daily.’

Lynelle glanced up at the man beside her, surprised by the topic he’d chosen.

‘Oh?’

‘She deemed it her duty to pay a visit to the people who chose to live on Closeburn land, but away from the castle.’

‘Your mother must have been a caring, thoughtful woman.’

‘Aye. She was.’

And beautiful. The stunning woman in the portrait possessed an unsurpassed elegance.

‘What of your mother?’ William said. A chill skittered down her spine. ‘Or is your father the beauty who gave you your enchanting looks?’

A roaring sound rushed through Lynelle’s head. She stumbled on the smooth path. William caught her upper arms, steadying her. His troubled gaze searched her face. She looked away.

‘Lynelle, what is it?’

‘I...’ Her heart pounded. Lord God, what could she say? ‘I never knew my mother. She died moments after I was born.’ It was safer to speak of her long-dead mother than of the father who refused to know her.

‘Forgive me, Lynelle. I didn’t know.’

A sharp pang of loss spiked in her chest. She swallowed. ‘There is naught to forgive, William.’

She’d never grieved for her mother. No one had ever given her the chance. Until now. Until William.

Pain sliced through her at his kindness, and her deception. Moving closer, she reached up and captured his face in her hands. Pulling his head down, she kissed him with all the love and passion consuming her soul. Her tongue surged inside his mouth and she pressed for more, trying to erase everything but the taste of him. Begging him for forgiveness.

William took control, gentling the kiss. She followed his lead, basking in the soft skimming of his lips before he lifted his head. A shuddering breath escaped her. Looking up, she stared into his smouldering eyes. Over the thudding of her heart, she heard the ragged sound of his breathing.

He stepped back, releasing his hold and glanced toward the village. ‘A pity you’re expected.’ Blazing eyes returned to her. ‘Else I would have you here, now.’

A shiver ripped along every nerve ending. Please. Now.

‘Tonight,’ he said. ‘‘Will you come to my chamber tonight?’

‘Yes.’

His chest swelled as he inhaled deeply. ‘Come then, before I again forget myself and why we’re here.’

Lynelle trailed slightly at his side, relief pulsing through her veins. She’d averted further conversation about her mother and, more importantly, her father.

She despised herself and the secrets she must keep. But if she wanted William to continue gazing at her with hot, fervent need, she would continue to use any means to distract him.

Touching her fingertips to her lips, she cherished the tenderness his kiss left behind. Anticipation for the coming night warmed her blood, her entire being.

But first, she had a full day of caring for those in need.

Tonight, she’d see to William’s and her own.

WILLIAM stared out into the star-studded sky, as the furious pounding of his blood finally slowed. The day had seemed endless, but Lynelle would come to him soon.

Thank God.

Mary’s joy at knowing he’d spent the past night in this chamber, his rightful place, had been obvious. She’d volunteered to stay with Edan again, but only after she’d hinted at her suspicions that he might not have spent the previous night alone.

When he’d asked if she were concerned for Lynelle’s wellbeing, she’d stunned him by saying it was
him
she worried most for. He’d left her then, unprepared to deal with the apprehension clouding her wise eyes.

His time with Lynelle was short, and hinged on the expectant birth of a bairn. Days? Hours? Perhaps knowing had sparked and heightened his suppressed passion the night before.

Tonight, he planned to take command.

A slight sound drew his attention to the door he’d left ajar. The opening widened, revealing a figure brushed with firelight. His heart seemed to sigh at the sight of her. His pulse quickened, his body hardened, but determination held him rigid.

He vowed to keep control, to take it slow. He would savour every touch, every taste, every quiver, as he explored every inch of her. Tonight he planned to linger, as if he were a condemned man and she his final sustenance.

The door clicked shut and she crossed the rug toward him. On bare feet, he met her advance in front of the hearth. His composure slipped a notch as his gaze stared into her desire-filled eyes and then dipped to her moist, parted lips.

She reached for him and he captured her seeking hands. ‘Nae, Lynelle,’ he said softly. ‘Tonight is mine.’

He released one hand, and it fell to her side. Her puzzled expression disappeared as he unfurled the slender fingers still in his grasp, and pressed his lips to her palm. His tongue skimmed the cupped centre and he relished her tremor. The shimmering gleam of desire in her eyes held a glint of understanding. He grappled with the excitement roaring through his being at her hint of surrender.

Her plaited hair unravelled with the gentle urging of his fingers, the red-gold mass tickling the backs of his hands like strands of cool silk. He stepped closer, cradling her head and tilting her face to one side. Pressing his lips to her ear, he traced the pale shell-like skin with his tongue, his reward a gasping shudder that threatened to break his hard-fought control.

Lavender filled every unsteady breath as he laved the delicate, pounding flesh of her neck, his deft fingers already loosening the ties of her nightgown. He spread the fabric wide, as his lips continued their eager quest to the curve between throat and the sweep of her shoulder.

With care, he pulled the material lower, till it pooled at her waist and trapped her wrists, laying her upper body bare to his eager mouth. Her rasping breaths matched each heave of his chest as he battled for air and composure.

His lips descended and hovered above the pebbled peaks of her breasts. Her back arched, thrusting the soft mounds within a whisper of his starving lips. Cupping the underside of one firm globe, he splayed a hand at her back. Parting his lips, he drew her pale softness into his mouth and fed his rampant desire.

Her legs buckled and a moan of tortured delight filled the chamber. William caught her crumbling form, swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed. He stripped the gown from her writhing figure, tore his shirt from his body and pushed the plaid from his hips. He joined her on the coverlet, every ounce of control banished by the taste of her, the sound of her pleading moans, his desperate need to end her torment and his.

He sank into her wet heat and a shudder ripped through him. Her body strained to meet his as he surged inside of her. Grasping fingers clawed his back, his shoulders, clung to his head and hair. Her body tightened, clenching him fiercely, her cry of fulfilment spurring his own release. He filled her honeyed depths, his rapturous groan mingling with her shuddering sighs.

Collapsing, almost drained of all strength, he managed to roll to his side, drawing her against him. His thudding pulse eased and his struggle to breathe lessened as his body relaxed, sinking deeper into the bedding. Lynelle pulled closer and the muscles of his arms quivered, locking about her.

God above, he was helpless to contain his desire. A muffled cry and a feather-like touch proved enough to send all thoughts of control from his head. His lips started to lift at the notion of his weakness, but the smile never fully formed. Forcing his heavy lids to open, he shifted his head to stare at the woman resting in his arms.

Never had his flesh hungered so fiercely. Never had he suffered starvation after he’d feasted. He was ravenous for more.

But it wasn’t only her body he craved.

He wanted all of her, heart, mind and soul.

Her smile had the power to wipe all thought from his mind. The way she viewed things and shared her ideas had him questioning his perceptions about others, about himself. Despite his mistrust and hostility, she’d shown unwavering kindness towards Edan, the castle folk and the villagers. Everyone she met she touched with her gentleness, her compassion. Including him.

His clansmen flocked to her now, seeking her aid for all manner of ills. She’d earned his people’s trust.