“Aye,” Wilkie said, and the sound of his voice, so deep and comforting, as I lay against his chest, as close as I could be. “Still alive.”
The footsteps retreated as Kade took his leave. He was clearly not as incensed by the possibility of scandal as Laird Mackenzie had been. He paused at the door and asked, “What’s wrong with the lass?” Amusement rang in his words.
“Nothing’s wrong with the lass,” I heard Wilkie’s voice say lazily, his hand still warm and intimately placed. “She’s fine.”
I thought I heard a note of Kade’s soft laughter as the door closed behind him.
I lay with Wilkie for a long time, flitting in and out of a replete half sleep, until I was awakened by his moans and his uneven breaths, from warring dreams or from the pain of his injury I couldn’t be sure. I stroked his hair to ease his unquieted sleep. I ran my fingers along the stubble of his days-old beard, savoring the scratchy feel of it, mesmerized by the rugged beauty of his features. His arm wrapped more tightly around my waist, and the strength of him seemed to buffer me from the uncertainty of my predicament, softening my own unease.
I was becoming accustomed to the insistent embraces of Wilkie Mackenzie. Despite the newness of our familiarity, every aspect of his touch consoled me. It may have been foolish to find such a degree of contentment in a connection that might soon be broken. I knew Wilkie Mackenzie was likely to be a brief, temporary fixture in my life. But he was such a magnificent presence, so unexpected and so very, very beautiful. I wanted only to savor the pleasure of him while I could. I knew that when he finally let me go, I would miss the warmth of him. And the anticipation of his lips touching mine just once more.
When Wilkie’s breathing evened, and the black of night gave way to a purple-hued dawn, I kissed him once more with the lightest touch of my lips to his. Then I slipped from his bed and returned to the antechamber, where Christie lay undisturbed. I crawled back into my bed.
And in the wake of Wilkie’s enlightening caresses, I could not bring myself to fret about the uncertainties that the day would surely introduce. I still felt an echo of a pulse in the core of my body. It was an exquisitefeeling, of fruitfulness and warm promise, as though my body had become a quivering vessel. Despite injury, fatigue, soreness, I felt more alive than I had ever been. I slept, thinking only of him.
CHAPTER FIVE
EARLYTHENEXTMORNING, I was summoned by Kade to meet with Laird Mackenzie in the grand hall.
There was a loud knock on the door, which roused both Christie and myself. Christie rose and opened the door to him. He did not enter but stood in the door frame, filling up the space.
He was generous enough to give me several minutes to adjust to my surroundings before he began doling out orders.
“After you dress,” he said to me, “I will take you down to the hall to discuss what has happened and what will happen. The laird is expecting us immediately.” He made no move to leave, to allow me to rise and dress. He seemed temporarily overcome by curiosity.
“What of Wilkie?” asked Christie.
“He sleeps,” he answered, still staring at me.
Whatever leniency I had detected in Kade Mackenzie last night had receded almost entirely; he was as formidable as I had yet seen him. His weapons gleamed brightly in the subdued sunlight that streamed through the small window and brought attention to the glint of the many blades that hung from him, as though they’d been sharpened and polished with care to face the day. I was glad for Christie’s presence then, as she rose and pushed him out the door, so she could make a move toclose it, taking no notice of his ferocity. “You don’t expect her to dress while you’re standing there intimidating her with all your swords and knives, now, do you, brother? Wait outside.”
“I wasn’t intending to intimidate anyone,” he said.
“You intimidate everyone, fierce warrior, and you know it. Why else would you carry no less than three swords? Are you expecting to be attacked here in our chambers? You’ve already stripped Roses of her weapons, and I—” she held out her arms as though to prove it to him “—have nothing on me, I swear it.”
Watching the ease of them in each other’s presence, I felt a small pang of emptiness that might have been jealousy. With no siblings, nor family at all, to call my own, I felt fascinated by their playful banter, their natural camaraderie. She was so entirely unruffled by his presence, as only a sister could be. To me, he appeared frighteningly intense. Yet she treated him with all the gentleness of a child, ushering him out the door insistently and taking care to avoid any of his sharper edges.
Once Kade had retreated, I rose, putting on my battered tunic and my oversize trews.
“My dear Roses,” said Christie, surveying my outfit with a critical eye. “We must do something about your clothing. Ailie, you should know, is a talented seamstress. While you’re meeting with Knox and Kade, we’ll make it our quest to find you a more flattering outfit. And when you’re returned to Wilkie, he’ll not believe his eyes.” Her eyes glimmered at the thought. So welcoming, she was, and kind. It was clear from her openhearted manner that Christie had already accepted my placement here, perhaps not at Wilkie’s side, but at least somewhere near it. She appeared excited by theprospect of planning our day together, primping me for her brother’s approval. And as appealing as her intentions sounded, I felt wary of my own secrets: my tattoo and the horrified reaction to it that shadowed my memories. I would have to take every care to make sure it was kept covered.
But I knew there was no guarantee that I would see out the day at Kinloch, nor even the hour.
I wished I could go to Wilkie. I wanted to see him and to touch him before I faced his brothers, in case they cast me out. I felt disconcerted by this separation from him and most of all by the thought that I might not be allowed to see him again, even to bid him farewell.
“What is it, Roses?” Christie asked. “Why do you weep?” She placed a hand on my shoulder.
I wiped the tear away. “’Tis nothing. I’m fine.”
“I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looked at you,” she said quietly. “I’ve never heard that kind of longing in his voice, not once.” She spoke with an almost reverential tone, as if the connection she’d witnessed with her own eyes carried weight and power. “Don’t let Knox and Kade frighten you. They have Wilkie’s best interests at heart, always. They will do anything to speed his full recovery. Clearly you will play a part in that recovery. Take heart.”
And I did. Her words calmed me. “I thank you for your kindness, Christie,” I said.
“And I thank you for having the courage to save Wilkie, and to summon help for him. Now go. They’ll not want to be kept waiting.”
She opened the door for me, and Kade motioned for me to follow him, which I did. He led me out of Wilkie’s antechamber, down a hall lit with candles that satin grooves carved into the stone walls, down a wide, curving set of wooden stairs, to the grand hallway. Having only a hazy memory of the castle’s interior from the night of my arrival, I was agog at the splendor of it. The Mackenzie castle was not, as I’d guessed at my first impression, wildly more prosperous than the Ogilvie manor. Rather, I realized, it was merely much more beautifully maintained. Careful attention had gone into each and every detail of both the land and the manor, administered by a clan who clearly cherished their space and were talented at enhancing all it had to offer. I valued this sentiment and felt even more drawn to this clan by the discovery.
We entered the grand hallway, with its richly colored hanging tapestries, its fine furniture, its highly polished pewter candelabras. I could appreciate that someone had taken special care with these candelabras; I had polished many similar pieces in my time but had never achieved such a rich gleam. Not that I had tried especially diligently, but still. It was admirable.
