The Healer (26 page)

She’d won his battered heart.

Closing his eyes, he allowed the revelation the freedom he’d not permitted before. No stabbing pain pierced his chest. Instead, soothing warmth filtered through him as if he’d emerged from the darkest pit into the sun’s beaming light.

Who’d have guessed he’d fall in love with the healer he’d done his best to despise.

Peering at the portrait hanging above the mantle, he finally understood the sparkle in his mother’s eyes as she gazed towards his father. Would a similar glint show in his eyes now whenever he looked at Lynelle?

More importantly, did she look at him in such a way?

He searched her face, but her thick lashes remained closed, shielding her secrets.

Despite their physical closeness, a wall remained between them. This morning when he’d mentioned her mother, he hadn’t been fooled by her diversionary kiss. He’d tasted her desperation, her fear. She was hiding something, but what?

Brushing damp strands of red-gold from her cheek, he wondered how he’d fallen in love with a woman he knew so little about. Aside from being English and skilled in the arts of healing, she resided at Fenwick, rescued kidnapped heirs and floundering toddlers and had lost her mother moments after she’d been born. But there must be more to her life.

Did she have brothers or sisters, and what of her father? If she did, surely they’d be desperate to have her back.

A chill swept through him. The birth of Leslie’s babe was imminent, and then Lynelle would be gone. How did she feel about leaving? Would she happily return to Fenwick, or did she hope each day and night stretched longer, as he did.

He glanced at the door, pondering the strength of the lock, but dismissed any thoughts of forced confinement. Her passion matched his. Perhaps she’d willingly stay if he promised to love her with his body every night, and day, if necessary.

Tracing the path of her cheek, he skimmed his fingers down her slender throat, over the slope of her pale shoulder and along the length of her arm. Pausing, he rested his palm on the curve of her hip. Why in God’s name was he worrying about her leaving while she still lay warm and soft in his arms?

He craved to know her feelings, but didn’t dare reveal his own. Not until he discovered the secret she’d concealed with a kiss.

His hand slid to the juncture of her thighs. Her sigh swiftly altered to a whimpered plea. Desire speared through him and he doubled his intimate efforts. Seeing her falling apart in his arms restored his pride a fraction.

He wanted more, but this was enough...for now.

***

Lynelle discreetly followed Geordie from the keep into the bailey and beyond the castle grounds through the yawning gate. While the boatman continued down the slope to the pier, seemingly unaware of her presence, she stopped at the top of the rise knowing full well the guards patrolling the battlements watched her. But they didn’t question her.

The early-morning breeze teased her hair as the meagre warmth from the awakening sun kissed her cheeks. Exhaustion dragged at her limbs and her lashes seemed weighted, too heavy to hold open.

Yet never had she felt such vitality.

She’d left the cause of her lethargic vibrancy slumbering peacefully in the huge bed above stairs. She needed fresh air to gather her scattered wits, unable to think clearly while cocooned in William’s enchanting embrace.

A shiver rippled through her as she remembered the past night. Thrice she’d reached heaven, enslaved by William’s masterful touch. She’d dozed between bouts of lovemaking, roused from sleep each time by his questing hands and searching lips. She’d responded readily, eagerly. Her body gave her no choice. Her heart overflowed with wonder, with love.

How was she to go on?

Her gaze brushed the rolling hills to her right. She’d ridden over the gentle mounds, drenched by teeming rain on the day she’d arrived here. Her past lay in that direction. She shuddered at the thought of returning. Beneath her cloak, she hugged herself. Dear God, she didn’t want to go back.

But if she didn’t she’d never gain her father’s approval.

Delving deep, she searched her heart and soul. Could she ever find peace without having her father acknowledge her?

Yes!

The swiftness of her answer rocked her.

She’d gladly sacrifice hearing her father call her his daughter for William’s love.

She never thought her life-long dream could be replaced by another. But she’d never imagined falling in love either.

Inhaling deeply, she drank in the lush scenery beyond Castle Loch. The flat meadow, which she crossed daily to walk the path to the village, seemed so familiar now. A band of stout oaks, their solid branches reaching out to touch the tree alongside, formed a formidable barrier to the north, shielding the inhabitants of Closeburn, keeping the rest of the world at bay. The verdant beauty of the landscape stole her breath. But it was much more than the picturesque surroundings calling to her.

She’d found purpose here. Using her burgeoning skills as a healer to help those in need had given fullness to her wasted existence, enriching her life and sparking her first taste of happiness.

Would the clan folk welcome her if she stayed? Did William want her to? If so, in what guise was she to live here? Healer? Lover? Both? Would it be enough?

‘Tell me your thoughts.’

Lynelle started. Her heart pitter-pattered in her chest as William’s low, deep voice washed over her. Turning her head, she looked up into his glittering grey eyes and forgot to breathe.

I’ve fallen in love
.

Her fingers dug into her sides as she tore her hungry gaze away and stared at the view. She loved William with all her body and soul, but aside from his desire to wring mewling cries from her lips as he joined his body with hers, she had no clue about his feelings for her. He held power over her and she feared revealing her heart’s secret. She’d withstood rejection all her years, but could she survive his?

‘It is beautiful here.’

‘Aye.’

Peeping to the side, she found him studying his lands, fierce pride painting his features. Her heart seemed to melt at the mere sight of him and a delicious shiver coursed through her.

‘Are you cold?’ His question proved his attention wasn’t fixed solely on the scenery.

‘No. Only eager to be on our way.’

‘Let us go, then.’

Lynelle didn’t miss the faint curve of his clever lips, or the knowing look in his eyes. She willed her legs not to give way as they descended to the loch. Lord above. He hadn’t even touched her since he’d joined her on the grassy rise, yet her heart raced with remembered delight. Worse still, the handsome beast seemed to know she struggled for composure.

‘I’m surprised you can walk at all after last night’s vigorous activities,’ he said softly.

Lynelle’s steps faltered on the dock’s wooden planks. Strong fingers curled about her elbow, steadying her and at the same time unsettling her as he handed her into the rowboat. Averting her flushed face from Geordie, she sagged onto the timber board and fought to slow her feverish pulse.

She enjoyed his teasing; this William was such a contrast to the brooding laird she’d dealt with when they’d first met. Had she played any part in his transformation? She liked to think she had.

They bumped into the outer pier and, after assisting her from the rocking boat, William released her hand. She missed the thrill of his touch, but understood the need for discretion. Rejoicing in his caresses in the confines of his chamber was altogether different to being in full view of curious eyes.

If she stayed at Closeburn, would they forever have to keep their passion hidden?

When they reached the bend in the path, powerful arms swept her off her feet, robbing her of breath and thought. His mouth crashed into hers and she parted her lips for his onslaught, demanding his surrender with every tangling sweep of her tongue.

Her nipples hardened and she pressed them against the solid wall of his chest. She speared desperate fingers into the dark, silky strands at his nape and gloried in the urgent, blazing sensations swarming through her.

The soles of her boots touched ground as William ended their mind-numbing kiss. Her hands slid from his hair, down his body to where his heart thudded into the softness of her palms. Their panted breaths mingled in the small space between them and Lynelle had to blink several times before her eyes could focus on the man before her.

‘You’re like a fire in my blood,’ he rasped. Lynelle’s heartbeat skittered and thumped at his admission. ‘Come. If we do not go now, you are in danger of being ravished right here on the path.’

She concentrated on taking one shaking step at a time. Patting her hair into place with trembling hands, she hoped she didn’t look as if she’d just been kissed senseless.

At the first glimpse of a wattle and daub structure, William said, ‘When I finish mending Arthur and Blair’s roof, I will come for you.’

It took a moment for Lynelle to grasp what he spoke of. Keita’s words suddenly sprang to mind. The young couple had gone east to attend Arthur’s sister’s wedding in Saughtree before Lynelle had arrived at Closeburn.

She nodded and couldn’t help a final peek at William’s form as he made his way to the absent couple’s cottage at the far end of the village.

With a fortifying breath and a fierce act of will, she thrust the image of William’s prowling grace and potent kisses from her head. She couldn’t give her full attention to healing with thoughts of William stealing her wits.

WILLIAM leaned against the rough wall of Leslie’s cottage, trying to appear relaxed, bored even. Having repaired Arthur’s roof in short time, he’d gone back to the castle, set his plans for noon into motion and then retraced his steps back to the village.

On his return, one of the village women had informed him that Lynelle was visiting Leslie. He’d since walked a decent rut in the earth running alongside the expectant woman’s home.

He glanced up at the sun as it began its downward slide, and did his best to curb his impatience. A door creaked. He straightened and took a step forward. His chest filled with warmth at the sight of her and his blood pulsed, awakening, engorging the length of him beneath his plaid.

She turned back and stared at the cottage’s entrance. Her troubled expression doused his ardour and his feet carried him to her side without thought.

‘What is it?’

She looked at him and back to the door before heading out of the village. ‘Leslie’s back aches.’

William walked beside her, at a loss. ‘This concerns you?’

‘Well...yes.’

Cupping her elbow, William stopped her as they started along the path. ‘Why? Is the babe coming?’ If it was time, why was she leaving with him?

‘Not right now, but soon, I think.’ Her brow creased with worry.

Was her frown for the babe or because once it was born, she would leave?

His chest tightened. ‘Come,’ he said, still holding her arm and urging her forward. ‘I am in need of your skills.’

‘Are you hurt?’ she asked, almost running to keep up with his brisk pace.

The note of concern in her voice eased the constricting band around his heart. Her gaze raked over him from head to toe, firing his blood.

‘It isn’t your healing skills I refer to.’

Her puzzled expression was short lived, before her lips parted and her eyes widened. Colour flushed her cheeks a delightful pink.

How many blushes could he evoke with wicked words and probing caresses before the sun set? Would they be enough to convince her to stay?

At the curve in the trail, he steered her into the trees. Black stood where William had left him, tossing his head as they approached.

‘What – ?’

‘Ride with me,’ he said, cutting her off.

She stared at him. The look in her eyes softened and a smile touched her lips. ‘Yes.’

William’s heart thumped wildly. He mounted and offered his hand. Lynelle took it and placed her foot on his boot. With an effortless tug, he pulled her up, across his thighs.

She didn’t question where he was taking her, simply snuggled against him. Her trust shattered the last barrier surrounding his heart. He loved her. She deserved to know. He would tell her, but not yet.

Picking his way carefully, he guided Black through a tunnel formed by the gnarled branches of ancient oaks. The forest appeared impenetrable, but not for a lad who’d explored every inch of his family’s land.

The air was thick and cold beneath the leafy canopy. Dead undergrowth littered the ground. Black’s hooves stirred it to life, and the smell of the damp and the old wafted about them. Ducking low, William shielded Lynelle from stray wooden limbs, and inhaled her lavender scent.

Pinpricks of light signalled the thinning of the trees. Sunlight washed over them and William gave his mount leave to gallop for a short distance. Lynelle clung to him, hiding her face, while he relished the feeling of freedom caused by the short burst of speed.

Drawing rein in a glen dappled with willow and alder, William lowered his precious bundle to the ground and dismounted. Leaving Black to graze, he took Lynelle’s hand and led her to a secluded glade. This was where the burn providing Closeburn village with water began.

At the water’s edge, he turned to face the woman who had stolen his heart. Cradling her face in his hands, he prayed it was love for him shining in the sapphire depths.

He kissed her slowly, deeply, hoping she understood his feelings without him voicing them. He lifted his head and stared into eyes glazed with desire.

Releasing her, William removed his plaid and spread it on the grassy bank. He smiled inwardly as Lynelle swayed toward him before catching her balance. Shucking his boots, he stood in his shirt and swiftly divested her of her cloak, gown and shift. She shivered, though the day was warm, and then tried to hide her luscious form from his prying eyes with her arms.

His shirt joined her garments and before shyness could cool her blood, he drew her against him and tasted the honeyed sweetness of her mouth. Without breaking the kiss, he lowered her onto his plaid and lay down alongside her.