Heart of a Warlock [Celtic Series Book 3] Page 4

  Stop it!

  She must stop this weakness in her stomach and chest. She must not swoon over the very man she was sent to betray.

  Taking a deep breath, she said crisply, “I will be fine.”

  “Allow me to carry you,” he offered.

  Nae! Stop being nice to me.

  “That is not necessary.”

  “I insist,” he replied. The heat from his body caressed her from the front. He stood close. Too close. Was he going to kiss her? Oh, aye, please. What would his lips feel like? She would like to touch his jaw, to see if…

  “Nae,” she said louder than necessary.

  In a whoosh of air, two arms collected her legs to cradle her body against his chest. Her hood fell off her head and her cloak annoyingly gaped open.

  “I said I would be fine,” she said, embarrassment heating her face while she tried to recover her body.

  “I canna lose any more time. Come morn the rain will wash away my prisoner’s tracks and I will lose all hope of finding him and the sorceress.”

  “There are no clouds, I have time to walk,” she argued. He must not go after the prisoner. He had to take her to his castle so she could steal the babe and save her sister.

  “How do you know there are no clouds?” he asked, suspicion lacing his voice.

  “Well, ah, I can smell when rain is near.”

  “Maychance, your smell is tainted, as I see dark clouds gathering in the north.”

  Alayne remained quiet. She would have to think of another way to keep him by her side.

  The rhythmic movement of his walk along with his warm chest and secure arms lulled her into much needed sleep.

  Callum watched Alayne slumber in his arms. She weighed very little, yet her close proximity against his chest made his attractive bundle a heavy burden of responsibility. He wanted to lay her down on the dewy grass and make love to her, taking his time in discovering every inch of her skin and kissing her pink lips until she could stand no more. Aye, he could get lost in her eyes. He has yet to decide the color of them. The eve had robbed him of seeing her true color in eyes and hair, but darkness could not hide the delicate beauty of her face and the smoothness of her skin.

  In a country torn by feuding, reiving and war, how did this slight girl survive by herself? A sense of respect overwhelmed him. He must find her a good position within the Grant clan. Perhaps he could return and…

  Nae! He must keep his mind free from bonny lasses and concentrate on finding his father. Shifting Alayne in his arms, he made sure her cloak was tucked under her chin when he walked over the drawbridge of Urquhart Castle.

  A ditch circled the battlements that surrounded the impressive fortress next to the Loch Ness. Urquhart Castle had a hostile history of being raided by many, however its stone structure remained even when the owners changed. Callum stared up at the towering gatehouse on either side of the portcullis.

  “Who goes there?” a voice shouted from the garrison above.

  “I am Laird Callum, Chieftain of the Roberts clan. I seek shelter and food,” he shouted and then looked down. Alayne shifted restlessly in his arms.

  The portcullis raised and two stout timber doors opened. A porter with a thick beard and tartan cloak studied Callum and Alayne with a keen eye.

  “Where be your credentials?” he asked.

  “My horse was stolen with them, but if you inform your laird I am here, he will vouch for my identity.”

  “Aye, my laird, I will do so. For the time being, follow me.” The porter led him across the bailey and into the great hall where soldiers and servants slept on the floor.

  “You may stay here until Lord Grant awakens to see you,” the porter said and went to leave when Callum stepped in his path.

  “The lass needs a bed,” Callum said, his glare fixed on the porter, challenging him to refuse his request.

  The porter nodded and turned on his heel. Callum followed him up the steep stairs, to the end of a hallway. He entered a cold chamber and gently laid Alayne on the bed. Taking the coverlet, he wrapped her tightly within.

  He turned to find the porter staring at Alayne, a glaze of wanting in his dark eyes.

  Callum blocked his line of sight. “Send food and clothes for the lass immediately, and have someone come for me when his lordship awakens.”

  “You are not coming downstairs?”

  “Nae, I will stay here,” Callum stated and stepped closer to the porter.

  The porter backed out of the chamber and left.

  After stroking the fire in the hearth, Callum stood near the bed and stared at Alayne. Even with the castle’s heavy guard and sturdy battlements, would it be enough to protect her? Did he have a choice? He had to leave her. Taking Alayne along with him to hunt the sorceress was too dangerous.

  Callum walked to the window and observed the serene loch. Heavy clouds streaked across the sky, the early morn sun was about to rise. He was losing precious time.

  A knock sounded on the door. “Enter,” he called.

  The porter stood in the doorway. “Milord will see you now.”

  Callum looked at Alayne, her features softened from sleep. He bent over her and kissed her forehead without waking her. He did not want to leave, but he had to.

  As he was leaving the chamber, two young serving maids passed him with clothes and food. Both looked at him with admiration in their eyes, their cheeks blushing. He smiled at them and winked, sending the maids into a fit of giggles.

  With one last glance over his shoulder at Alayne, he left the chamber.

  The great hall bustled with activity and filled with many members of the lord’s household. Callum weaved his way through people to find the tall, stately John Grant, fourth Lord of Freuchie entertaining a thin man garbed in dark clothing. As he approached the raised dais, he gave the regal lord a courtly bow.

  “Please excuse my appearance, milord. I was not planning on visiting so early in the morn,” Callum explained, his gaze shifting to the man sitting to Lord Grant’s left.

  “No need for apologies. It pleases me to see you again, Laird Callum. I hear you had misfortune.”

  “Aye, I have. Without sounding ungrateful, I beg a boon of you.”

  “For the Roberts chieftain, you have only to ask and it will be granted,” Lord Grant replied.

  “I am in need of a horse and to acquire a position within the household for the blind lass I brought in this morn.”

  “He is indeed a feisty nobleman, milord,” the man in black chuckled. His eyes darkened when he leaned forward. “Are you in a habit of demanding horse flesh without properly addressing milord’s guests?”

  Callum clenched his fists at his sides, repressing the urge to slap the smirk off the man’s face. But he would not be goaded into creating disorder. After all, he still needed that horse and displeasing the lord would not help his cause.

  “I beg your pardon,” Callum said to Lord Grant. “Please introduce me to your guest.”

  Lord Grant smiled, seeming to enjoy the heavy tension. “May I introduce, Sir Rutger Kilander, knight to Regent Moray.”

  Callum nodded his head and lifted his chin. He was finished wasting time.

  “Milord, about the horse…”

  “What be the name of the blind lass you brought in with you this morn?” Sir Rutger interrupted. “I hear she is very beautiful. Is she your wife?”

  “Nae, she is not.” Callum scowled.

  “Well, what is her name and who is she?” Sir Rutger asked.

  “Aye, do tell us about this mysterious lass,” Lord Grant urged.

  “Her name is Mistress Alayne, from the Dunn clan.”

  Sir Rutger raised his thick eyebrows. “Lady Alayne Duncan of Mawrth?”

  “Nae. From the clan Dunn. She was…”

  “I know of a lady whose name is Alayne Duncan, you see.” In a haughty tone, Sir Rutger said, “I would be interested in finding her. I am betrothed to her sister.”

  “Is she missing?” Lord Grant as
ked, his round face fascinated by the tale.

  The dark knight continued, “Aye, she is. In sooth, she was exiled after committing treason against the Regent, Earl of Moray.”

  Callum cleared his throat loudly. “Milord, about that position for Mistress Dunn…”

  “Aye, we can find her a position here as long as she does not steal or break anything.”

  Callum bowed. “You have my thanks.”

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  Chapter Five

  Alayne woke to a series of high-pitched giggles. She kept her eyes closed, willing the interruptive noises to go away.

  “He is the most handsome mon I have ever seen,” a young voice trilled.

  “I agree,” another female replied. “He looks like an angel with all that golden hair.”

  “And that towering, brawny body. He must be a fierce warrior, not like the other men around here.”

  So that was what her champion looked like. She should have known by his confidence that he would be good-looking.

  “He is too grand for the likes of this one.”

  Alayne felt a garment being thrown across her legs and the smell of bread filled the chamber. She had heard enough. Rising in bed, she enjoyed the sense of satisfaction when tiny gasps escaped from the maids.

  “Aye, I am blind, but not deaf.”

  “We beg your pardon, milady,” a maid replied. “Do you need help dressing?”

  “Aye,” Alayne answered. “Where is the most handsome mon you have even seen?”

  The maids giggled and Alayne smiled.

  “I heard he has an audience with milord.”

  Her mouth dropped open and she quickly leaped out of bed. She could not let him leave without her.

  After donning a soft woolen gown with long sleeves, Alayne allowed one of the maids to escort her downstairs to the great hall. The noisy chamber came to abrupt silence when she entered. The weight of all eyes rested on her. She may as well have been naked again for the impact she caused when walking into the chamber.

  She suddenly felt alone in the world again, a leper for people to shy away from. Blindness is not contagious she wanted to shout to a chamber filled with strangers, but decided against it.

  Where was Callum? Had he left her already? Had she failed her sister again?

  The maid left her side and she stood by herself, feeling ill at ease. What was she to do now?

  A familiar warm arm snaked around her waist and Alayne relaxed, her shoulders slumped with relief.

  “May I introduce Mistress Alayne Dunn,” Callum’s voice echoed off the walls of the castle. “Mistress Dunn, before you is Lord Grant and Sir Kilander.”

  Alayne stiffened in shock.

  Nae, it canna be. Sir Rutger here?

  She shivered, and perspiration lined her upper lip.

  Please, do not give me away.

  Alayne waited for Sir Rutger to shout that she was a traitor, an exile. But all she heard was the other men welcoming her.

  “Are you cold?” Callum whispered.

  “Nae.”

  “You are shaking.”

  Sir Rutger’s voice rose. “Perchance, the lass is merely in awe of so many powerful men in her presence.”

  A chair scraped against the floor, and Alayne leaned closer to Callum. He was walking closer to her; she could feel his sinister presence.

  “Is that not correct, Mistress Dunn?”

  Alayne nodded her head.

  “Laird Callum, I believe you were in a hurry to find a mount. I will offer you one of mine. The stable lads know which one I ride. She is the fastest horse in the highlands.”

  Callum tensed beside Alayne.

  “Thank you, but…”

  “I trust you will bring my filly back to me unharmed.” Sir Rutger stood within an arms length of Alayne and she wanted to step back, but Callum’s strong arm kept her from doing so. She tried to draw strength from his body.

  She felt Callum step in front of her. “I take care of all my fine creatures,” his tone was one of warning.

  A chuckle came from a distance. “Lads, lads, let us not come to fight. Laird Callum, your pretty lass will be safe here. You have my word.”

  Alayne felt the weight of Sir Rutger’s stare on her back while Callum escorted her away. Walking back to the chamber, she tried to think of ways to convince him to take her with him. She did not trust Sir Rutger to keep his hands off her. It was bad enough when she could see him coming, but now that she was blind, she had no defenses.

  “Let me come with you,” she said in a quiet voice.

  “It is too dangerous.”

  “I do not feel safe here.”

  Although he did not respond, she sensed his curiosity.

  “Have you met Sir Rutger before?”

  “N … nae.”

  A door creaked open. Callum took her hand and escorted her to a chair. She heard him pace the floor.

  “I promise not to be a burden. If you take the lead, I will ride as fast as you and as long with nary a complaint.”

  She heard him chuckle under his breath.

  “There is no need to laugh at me.”

  “I am not laughing at you. I am impressed.”

  “Oh.”

  “I must go alone. Look, just keep the door locked and only allow the maids to enter. I will return in a week’s time.”

  “A week?”

  “Aye. Maybe before then if I hurry.”

  “I canna wait that long.”

  “You will be safe.”

  Callum stood in front of her chair and she tiled her chin up, waiting for him to kiss her. Prayed he would kiss her.

  “You have fiery hair and sea green eyes,” he said wistfully, touching her hair. “The morning sun shows me at last.”

  She edged closer on her seat. Kiss me.

  But his lips only pressed against her forehead, like she was a child. Why was he acting like an older brother? Was it not only last eve that he made love to her so passionately?

  He placed a dagger in her hands. “Use this if you need to,” he said, all tenderness void from his voice.

  He walked to the entranceway.

  “Lock this door,” he said. “I will return as soon as I can.”

  Callum’s boots echoed down the hallway and Alayne sighed.

  She rose to find the door and locked the latch. She turned and tried to remember where the bed was situated. Where was her walking stick when she needed it? Holding her hands out, she slowly edged to the middle of the room. An icy breeze floated across her face, and she stopped.

  Her outstretched fingertips bumped into the tight skin of a high cheekbone. She pulled her hand away and stepped back. “Good day, milady.”

  Torella’s smooth tone replied, “Nae, ‘tis not a good day. You were supposed to seduce him so he would take you back to Gleich castle.”

  “He is stubborn. He desires only to find you. Where is his father?” Alayne asked.

  “That is not your concern. If you want to save your sister, then I suggest you start using your feminine wiles and get him to return home.” Torella’s voice sounded muffled; she must have turned around.

  Alayne wrapped her fingers tightly around the dagger in her hand. If she could only use the…

  “Do not think about it, little one,” Torella whispered in her ear, making Alayne jump. “You cannot kill me with that puny thing.”

  Alayne swallowed and lowered her hand. “Even if I can convince him to take me back to his castle, how would I be able to find the babe when I am blind?”

  A black silence surrounded her.

  “By day you will be blind, by night, your eyesight will return.”

  A warm breeze flicked at Alayne’s hair, the sorceress’ voice sounded distant, “Fail me and your sister will surely die.”

  The overwhelming sense of evil left the air around her.

  She shuffled toward the bed until her toe stumped on the wooden leg.

  “Ow!”

  Sitting down,
she held her throbbing toe in her hand. She must see about getting a pair of slippers.

  She slumped her shoulders, dejected. Everything she did, she failed in some way. She failed her parents by allowing her title and lands be taken from her. She failed her sister by not being around to keep that barbarian Rutger away from her. She even failed Torella, not that she cared. She just wanted everything to be back to the way it was before. Before her parents died. She had such a carefree life. Her days were spent playing with her sister and running through the tall grass to find fresh heather for their chambers. Her biggest concern was what material she would purchase for a new gown.

  A tear slid down the side of her cheek and splashed on her hand holding the dagger. His dagger. If only they met under different circumstances. Then she could tell him the truth—who she really was. Tell him how the very nearness of him gave her comfort she had not felt in a long time. That his touch sent shivers over her body. And when he was inside her … she was complete and whole, like her body and soul were made to be joined with his. How was she to betray the one man her heart stirred for?

  Her heart?

  Could she be in love?

  She did enjoy the gentle sparring they had, the warmth of his body against hers, carrying her over the glens—the masculine way he smelled of horses and unrestrained power.

  Nevertheless, she did not even know what he looked like. How could she fall in love with a stranger’s voice?

  Nae, not a stranger. He was more than that. Yet what did she really know about him? Other than, he was a Celtic warlock and his sister’s husband, Laird Tremayne, was the first man who took her maidenhead—which was something she must hide from Callum. If he questioned her purity, he would question her reason for being on the altar.

  Nae, that was not the only reason for secrecy.

  If truth be told, she cared more for his respect.

  Perhaps she assumed too much. That he had feelings for her.

  A blind woman.

  “Fool!” she admonished. He would never feel anything more for her than pity, a never-ending burden. It was just as well. For in the end, she would betray him … for Wynda’s sake.