“Truly.” She rose up on her elbow as she found another thin line across his collarbone. “And this one? Musket shot or ax blade?”
“I fell out of a tree when I was ten.”
Her mouth quirked. “I see.”
“I was spying on the milkmaids bathing in the stream. The branch broke. If not for the fact that I fell on half the Kerr cousins on my way down, I might have broken my neck.” She shook her head and fell back on the blanket laughing. He rose on his elbow above her. “Duncan made sure the lot of us could not sit for a week after that. We did no more spying to be sure.”
“You are close to Duncan?”
He hesitated. “In every way, he was more a father to be than my own.”
He pushed her hair back. “And what of you?” he asked when he had her attention. “Other than your thigh, have you any scars ’pon such lovely flesh?”
“As a matter of fact, I do.”
She lowered the blanket to her hip and pointed out a small scar the size of a shilling where she had burned herself.
“Tell me about it.”
“I am what Sister Nessa claims ‘possessed of a curious nature.’ I never understood if she was speaking about my mind or the fact that most who know me think me unusual. I believe now she meant both. She warned that curiosity would be the death of me. She was nearly right.”
He twirled a strand of her hair around his finger. “Was she?”
“Aye, I blew up the watermill. ’Twas an accident, of course,” she said in all seriousness, for at the time it had frightened her. “I had sought to make a lightning arrester. I thought a rod would divert the electricity, but instead it invited a strike. I still do not know what I did wrong. I was so sure ... You are laughing.”
“Nay, love. But what possessed you to think of such a scheme?”
She sat and settled the blanket about her hips, her long thick hair protecting the rest of her modesty. “ ’Twas my intent to save the church tower in Castleton. Every year the tower is struck by lightning. Every year the villagers rebuild. Mrs. Simpson had given me a book about a phenomenon called electricity and some people were open to the idea, thinking they could better spend their time building other things. Others argued that I was attempting to circumvent divine will by placing such a rod on the tower in hopes of diverting destruction. They believed that if He chose to continuously throw lightning bolts at the church steeple, I should not interfere.
“So as an experiment, I took my rod and copper to the watermill, which sits at the highest point near the abbey.Lightningdidstrike. It caught the mill on fire. It burned it to the ground in a spectacular bonfire that could be seen for miles. Friar Tucker was beside himself.”
Ruark was laughing so hard, Rose glared down at him. “ ’Tis how I came to be in the vault and discovered the puzzle box that contained the ring.”
He held up his hand. “This ring?”
She frowned as the memory of his theft intruded. He may not believe in its power, but she did, and she was not even the person who wore the ring.
Frowning, she held his hand, and traced her fingers over the ring, as if by touching it, she could know that much more about him. “ ’Tis an Arthurian relic. When you are granted whatever you want most, only then will the ring release you.”
He tilted her chin with his palm. “Do you believe in magic, Rose?”
“Everyone needs to believe in something,” she said.
He slid his fingers into her hair. He pulled her head down and, kissing her with unhurried ease, rolled her onto her back. “At the moment, I can think of wanting nothing more than you.”
He set his mouth to her breasts, drawing first one budded peak, then the other between his lips. He lowered his hand and gently palmed her sex. “You are hot,” he whispered against her throat. “How do you feel?”
His erection registered in her half-drugged senses.
A soreness burned between her thighs and a throbbing heat still lingered in her womb, as if he had permanently branded her with his touch. Yet she wanted to feel him inside her again.
She splayed her fingers in his hair, watching from behind half-closed lids as he explored her body with his mouthand his hands. “I feel as if I should ask if you are under some sort of mystical enchantment.”
He smiled against her breast. “Aye, I am enchanted. Or I would not want you as I do. That is the truth.”
She half believed hewascharmed.
Orshewas. For she was in danger of falling in love with him. “You could at least pretend you want me for something other than—”
