Within moments of being locked behind the gates, he was bored almost senseless, and his remedy was to raid the wine coffers and drink himself to sleep.
Lyall called out the guard’s name, and his voice echoed in the stone rooms. Where was he? He had known the man for years.
More footsteps.
‘”Tis about time you came back here, you worthless bastard! I uncorked some Malvasian. I’m willing to share!”
Glenna stood at the base of the stone stairs, a beautiful dream in blue, her hair down and shining, her look all for him, the way he saw her every night, the way she haunted his mind so vividly there were moments when he actually believed she was there and his weak mind was not playing tricks on him.
This time she held a candle in her hand when she said, “Lyall!”
The dream speaks! For the maddest of moments he thought he heard her voice. He held up the wine jar. “Little wonder Ramsey pays dearly for this. ‘Tis powerful stuff.”
“Then pour me some,” she said clearly and used a large key to unlock the gates, stepped inside, closed and locked them behind her.
“Glenna? ‘Tis really you?”
She faced him, hands on the hips of her gown. “Nay, fool, ‘tis Mary Magdalene come to pray at the foot of your cross.”
“Glenna?” He stood up and had to steady himself with a hand to the wall. “Glenna….”
She threw her arms about him then he had her in his arms, really holding her. He staggered back against the wall, “My love…my love…” She was all he ever wanted.
Covering him with kisses she was real, her body soft andwarm, her kisses—Glenna and her kisses, he almost laughed out loud, the feeling inside him bubbling up. She stopped and pulled back, looking up at him. “You’ve been drinking?”
“For three days,” he said brightly, then frowned. “Or at least three suppers.” He waved a hand behind him. “See there. I have access to all of my stepfather’s cellars.”
“What were you planning to do? Drink him dry?”
“The thought crossed my mind. How am I doing?”
She wrinkled her nose and waved a hand in front of her face. “Smells as if you are almost there.”
She had two noses. Beautiful noses, and her face was moving. Lyall staggered back against the wall, his head swimming, hugging the wine jar, and he ran a hand over his face. “What are you doing in here?”
“I wanted to see you.”
“And you managed to steal the key? I expect someone will come drag you away soon. The guard is missing but he will be back soon. The world is against us.”
“That’s not true. And the guard is gone for a reason. We have all night together, and your mother gave me the key.” She waved it under his nose.
“I am piss-drunk.” He shook his head and it almost felt as if it rattled. “I thought you said my mother gave you the key.”
“She did.”
“Why would she do that?”
“Perhaps she understands.”
He grew quiet, taking it all in, and he slid down the wall and landed hard onto the pallet, legs out in front of him. Back against the wall. He thought it might be holding him up. “I’m drunk. So very, very drunk.”
She came over and sat down beside him, slid her arms around his chest and held him, her head on his shoulder “Then sleep it off. I’m here. I will stay with you. I will be with you.” She moved down, nesting into the curve of his arm and she placed her hand over his heart, as she had done before. “There is nowhere else Iwould want to be,” she said. “When I close my eyes, here is where I am safe. I know you are no coward, because it is here,” she patted his chest, “where I can always hear how strong your heart is.”
He closed his eyes, the warm feeling of peace around him and sweet oblivion just an arm’s length away. “Do you regret us?” he asked her.
“Never,” she said so fiercely he almost believed her.
“How can you be so certain? How do you know?”
