“She healed one of the stable lads yesterday,” Florie said, propping her head in her hand and frowning down at him. Even in the dimly lit room, he read the concern in his lover’s eyes. She poked him in the chest. “The herbs she gave that wee bratling stopped the pain in his bowels, and the ungrateful idiot nay even had the courtesy to thank the lady for her troubles!” She poked Fergus again. “Can ye believe that wee fool was convinced she’d stolen his soul since he no longer felt any pain?”
He smoothed her tousled gray curls away from her face, smiling as he rubbed his thumb across her lower lip. “Florie, ye ken as well as I about the superstitious lot we have among us. Look how the laird, and his father before him, sheltered Emrys all these years—for the old one’s protection.”
He pulled her head down to his and nuzzled kisses to the tender skin behind her ear. “Leave off worrying about the laird’s wife, love. Ye’ve wakened me fully, and now I’ll never sleep until ye sate me once again.”
“Ever since my time of breeding ended, ye’ve been insatiable, my fine lover.” She pressed her ample curves even tighter against him and smiled as she lowered her mouth to his. “Whoever said an older man could not keep the cold at bay all night long, never met a man such as yourself.”
CHAPTER 17
“When I was headed up to the laird’s solar to build his morning fire, I overheard the MacKay praising Lady Rachel for working spells with old Emrys.” Maery, the youngest and prettiest maid in the keep, leaned closer to Ian as she whispered this latest tidbit of gossip.
“I canna believe the MacKay allows his lovely wife to do such a thing,” Ian said. “The woman is heavy with his sons.” He tried to pull Maery deeper into the pantry to steal a few kisses before they both continued their chores.
“Are ye calling me a liar, then?” She slapped away his roaming hands, then shook a finger in his face. “I heard it with me own ears, I tell ye! I also overheard Mistress Florie telling the MacKay about his wife and all her failings. The woman canna do anything. Heaven knows I’ve righted her messes several times now. Why—she canna even do the simplest needlepoint!”
With his hands around the maid’s shapely waist, Ian pulled her tighter against him. “Ye should nay be so sharp tongued about the lady. She is not from this place and was not taught such things. It’s nay her fault she canna learn everything all at once when it takes many an entire upbringing to master one of those tasks.”
Maery jutted her chin higher and held his kisses at bay. “Fine. But how do ye explain Lady Rachel working spells? Some even say she stole young Angus’s soul to cure his belly pain.”
Ian blew out an irritated snort and set her back from him. “All I ken for certain is that Lady Rachel seems verra kind, and ye would do well not to let Florie or Fergus hear ye wagging your tongue with such tales against her. It could be dangerous for the lady, and ye verra well know it.”
Maery stuck out her bottom lip in an irresistible pout, leaned in closer, and slid her hands slowly up Ian’s chest. “It’s just that I worry for ye, Ian. I ken how much the laird depends on ye, and I’d hate for ye to fare ill in case the lady is a witch.” She ground the softness of her curves against his hardness, something she had never done before. “I heard tell she told the birds to shite on Roderic in the garden. ’Tis unnatural, it is. Ye ken that Roderic thinks well of ye too. Watch yourself, aye?”
Ian groaned and cupped both her breasts. “Dinna fear, Maery,” he whispered as he lowered his mouth to hers. “I’ll keep a watchful eye. Now treat me to the sweetness of your charms.”
“So,these are the infamous mirrors. Why three?” Rachel knew the answer, but Emrys had dodged earlier questions and given patronizing answers. Time to distract him and act as though she didn't have a clue about anything. She assumed the role of asilly woman, standing in front of the Mirrors of Time with her head cocked to one side as if she was mimicking one of her dogs.
The dark surfaces of the looking glasses swirled and stared back at her. She sensed them sizing her up and did her best not to smile. Whether it was because she was pregnant, had traveled back in time, or fully embraced her magick, her abilities becamestronger by the day. She embraced it and intended to use the gift to its fullest to protect Caelan and her sons.Silly woman.She’d make that old druid thinksilly woman.With her eyes opened wider to seem as innocent as possible, she repeated herself, “Why three?”
“About that question, lass—search your mind, aye?” Emrys said in a lofty tone that threatened to make her lose her temper. “Even a novice should ken that answer well enough.” He wrinkled his nose and settled deeper into his chair.
Rachel meandered back and forth in front of the mirrors to distract him. It was obvious he was irritated about letting her enter his domain. Probably resented having to babysit the emotionally explosive, hormone ridden, pregnant wife of his laird. Granted, she did have trouble controlling her bitchiness, but who wouldn’t in this situation? The love of her life and her sons were in danger—and on top of her being ripped from every convenience she had ever known, she was cursed with swollen ankles, an aching back, and the never ending need to pee. And there were no chocolate sandwich cookies or peanut butter!
Emrys looked up from the manuscript in front of him, his gaze following her as she moved back and forth in front of the mirrors. “We found ye in the future. That is the only hint I’ll be telling ye.”
Before she caught herself, she rolled her eyes. Game over. Time to warn the man he was about to die. “I realize you don’t want me here. I get this is yourkingdom. But if you continue talking to me like I’m some half-witted child and treating me as though you wish you’d never laid eyes on me, then consider yourself warned that I will declare war—and I will win it.” She moved closer, narrowing her eyes. “I won’t run crying to Caelan nor will I tell Florie, but I promise you, you will regret the day you were born.” She cast a casual glance back at the mirrors. “If you’d like to research a little into my ancestry, you’ll find a bitof my DNA is a tad evil. Some witches in my family were burnt at the stake and for good reason—they deserved it. Although my Wiccan beliefs areharm none, I’m willing to make an exception if it comes to not only my survival here in medieval Scotland but also that of Caelan and my sons. Understand?”
They both stared at each other for what seemed like several full minutes, neither blinking, both barely breathing. Finally, Emrys slowly closed the ancient book on the table. “I am well aware of your line. Their powers were unmatched.”
With the aid of his staff, he pushed himself up from his chair. “’Tis a shame there was no one to train or guide ye after ye lost your grandmother.” He wearily rubbed his eyes, then pinched the bridge of his nose. “I am none too certain it be a good idea for ye to hone your powers. It could cause ye to end up on one of those burning stakes yourself.”
“And you think I haven’t thought of that?” She returned to wandering around the room, eyeing the dusty covered crocks and stoppered containers lining the shelves. While a small part of him might be trying to protect her, she was also well aware that he made it a habit of running a con whenever it stood to benefit him. He always got the choicest meat pies, finest pastries, and the first ales pulled from the kegs because of the useless herbs he had convinced the serving maids would grant them eternal youth.
She cleared her throat and gave him a knowing smile. “I appreciate your concern for my wellbeing, but since we’ve been here, my paranoia has increased tenfold. In fact, that’s the main reason I’m in yoursanctuaryright now. The more I can learn, the more empowered I become. So the best way you can keep yourself safe is to teach me.”
When realization flashed in the old man’s eyes, she picked up the ancient tome from his table and started leafing through it. “Now, what are we studying today?”
“Why doye keep moving about so?” Caelan whispered to Rachel as she shifted and rearranged the pillows in her chair yet again. The woman had been in motion for the entire hour she’d sat at his side. “Ye said ye wished to be here.”
She shot him a narrow-eyed look of disgust and rocked from side to side with her hands propped on the shelf of her stomach. “You wear three, six-pound cannon balls around your waist, and we’ll talk about sitting still.” She elbowed him in the ribs as she added, “And each of those cannon balls has two arms and two legs that are in constant motion.” She wiggled again, grimacing as she arched her back. “And why didn’t you tell that man that he should treat his wife better?”
Caelan forced a smile at those gathered in the great hall as he grabbed her hand and tucked it affectionately into the crook of his arm. “Because his wife should treat her husband with more respect and not spend so much time wandering to the adjoining field to visit her neighbor’s husband.”
The rumbling of distant thunder filled the room, making him tense with worry, since it was an unseasonably cloudless day. “Rachel,” he warned through clenched teeth. As she neared the time of the bairns’ arrival, the more unpredictable she had become with nature’s forces. She’d admitted to always having an affinity with the natural energies, and apparently, the ebb and flow of her emotions were meshed even more tightly with the world around her here in the past.
She cleared her throat, pursed her lips, and pulled in a slow, deep breath. “Sorry,” she whispered. “It’s okay now. I’ve got a handle on it—oh, shit!”
She squeezed his hand as a flash of lightning nearly blinded all in the room and was immediately followed by a clap of thunder so loud that it nearly shook the stone walls of the keep.
