He gave Nola a hard look. Anger burned deep within him. His stomach churned; his head pounded, and he had to clench his hands to keep from striking her. “First,” he said to Ferris, “we must deal with this evil deceiver.” He grabbed Nola’s arms and hauled her to her feet. “You will stay in your room. After I rescue the princess, I shall deal with you.”

  Nola fought him, kicking, screaming obscenities the entire length of the hallway. His hands tightened around her upper arms as he held her at arms’ length and shoved her ahead of him. What a bitch! He wanted to kill her now. Another question stabbed him in the gut.

  “Alana, what about her?”

  She turned, her face red with rebellion. “You’ll never see her again, either. But her death was a mistake. I thought she was Morgana!”

  Gods! He found it difficult to believe that this woman had emerged from the same mother as Morgana, his sweet, innocent wife who wouldn’t harm any creature.

  Wiping her hands on her apron, Brigid stuck her head out from the kitchen but said nothing, for Ferris had already apprized her that her mistress was missing, and she knew better than to ask questions.

  Keir pushed Nola into her bedchamber, shut the door and locked it, then pocketed the key. She yelled, banging and kicking the door. Gods! His fingers itched to wring her neck. The only bright spot in this sorry episode was that the middle bedchamber had no window and thus no chance for her to escape.

  Keir poked his head in the kitchen and handed Brigid the key. “After we leave, tell your husband to tie a cloth around her mouth and tie her to a chair. I will not have her making a racket in my wife’s house.”

  “Yes, sir.” Brigid’s face was full of sympathy. “And sir, I pray that you will find the mistress, safe and sound.” Tears trickled down her cheek. “The dear lady!”

  “Oh, we will save her!” Keir dared not express his worst fears, that they would not find the whale, or that it had already consumed Morgana. Terror taunted him, his heart beating fast, like a drum inside his chest.

  “Sir, I’ll fetch your javelin.” The perfect servant, Ferris said not a word about Nola, only his face revealing disgust with his mistress’s sister.

  “Yes!” Keir answered as the screaming went on and on.

  Shortly after, Ferris joined him and handed him the javelin.

  “Let’s go!” Keir motioned to Ferris, and they left the lodge, heading straight for the shore. No point in taking horses. In the time it took Irvyn to saddle and bridle their mounts, they would reach their destination. “We must hurry! Farther down from the cliff, we are bound to find a boat.” Booted footsteps thudding on the walkway, they raced to the rocky path. Are we too late? Keir agonized the whole way. He had to save his dear wife, had to! In only the short time he’d known his wife, he had learned to love her, a rare treasure, dearer than life. His friend Malcolm was right; he was much too arrogant. When he had first captured Morgana’s slipper at the fair, he had believed that only a princess would do for him. Gods, he knew now he loved Morgana very much, and it wouldn’t have mattered if she were the lowliest scullery maid in the kingdom. He had learned much in only a few short days. Most of all, he’d learned that one’s station in life had nothing to do with kindness or a generous spirit, and those qualities mattered more than wealth or position. Gods, please help me save my wife!

  Within minutes that seemed like hours, they came to spot where the ground leveled off, the waves lapping upon the shore. They scrambled down the grassy slope and rushed along the sandy shoreline. Their booted feet sank into the wet sand, hindering their progress. A few yards ahead, a boat with oars waited on the shore, as if left there for their use. Both men shoved the boat out into the water. While Ferris held the boat, Keir scrambled aboard. The vessel bobbed in the water, and he fought to keep it steady as Ferris climbed aboard. Both men grabbed the oars and rowed. All was quiet except the splash of the oars, not even a sea gull to be seen or heard. Keir’s muscles moved in tandem with Ferris’s, as though they had rowed together many times, instead of this, their first time. His gaze raked the glittering blue waters as he prayed to all the gods that the whale would soon appear. He had to save Morgana. He couldn’t live without her.

  “There! I see it!” He pointed out to sea, the whale’s dorsal fin clearly visible, the animal skimming the waters. Keir reached for his javelin. Ferris rowed furiously, bringing them closer, closer, until the boat stopped but a few yards from the whale.

  The whale caught their approach and turned to the attack, speeding toward them, its fin slicing through the waters. Struggling for balance, Keir stood with his weapon poised, nearly tipping the boat over. He braced himself and concentrated on hitting the whale.

  A monstrous creature, the whale reared up in front of them. Its wide-set eyes flashed in the sunlight, its sharp teeth gnashing. Its flippers moved frantically, as if to grab them.

  “There it is! The red spot!” Legs spread apart, Keir aimed the javelin and hurled. The

  weapon hit the mark, and the creature leaped with pain, thrashing in water that soon turned red with blood. Screaming in agony, the whale opened its mouth and spat out Morgana, straight into the bottom of the boat. The boat rocked, nearly tipping over, and Keir quickly sat down, his only thought for his wife.

  “My darling!” A fierce burst of happiness erupted inside him as he gazed down at his wife’s dear face. His joy changed to dread, for her face was pale, her body lifeless. Gods! Don’t let me lose her now!

  She coughed, the most beautiful sound, lovelier than the finest music. Her clothes were wet and slimy, her hair plastered to her face. Hampered by the rocking boat, he inched closer and took her hand. From her position at the bottom of the boat, she raised her head and looked around, a dazed expression on her face.

  “Wh–what happened?”

  With little room for maneuvering, he bent over and eased her wet hair from her face. “Sweetheart, the whale swallowed you, but you are safe with me now, the man who loves you more than life.”

  While Ferris turned the boat around, Keir held her hand as they headed for shore. He lifted her and drew her onto the seat beside him, his gaze continually checking that the boat didn’t keel over. It was but a short distance to the shore, Ferris’s rowing swift and sure, yet it seemed like forever before they neared the shoreline.

  Morgana coughed again. “The last thing I remember, I was picking flowers along the cliff. Nola was with me–“ A shocked look seized her face. “Nola! She pushed me! I saw her behind me, too late!” She raised her hands to her face and sobbed. “Oh, that my sister could hate me so much that she would want to kill me!”

  * * *

  Keir held her close, the boat rocking, the waters lashing over the top. What if the boat tipped over? Morgana worried. A myriad of emotions clashed inside her head as she fought for composure. Relieved beyond all thought to be safe with Keir again, nevertheless, sorrow bore her down, the realization that her own sister had tried to kill her–and had almost succeeded! She turned a wary eye from side to side, the water licking at her stockinged feet, for she had lost her shoes inside the whale. The whale!, an experience she would never forget, an agony of endurance, a terrible fear that she would die inside the whale’s stomach, never to see Keir again. It was only a miracle that he had saved her.

  A question burst inside her head. Why hadn’t she thought of it sooner? “How did you know I was inside the whale?”

  “A woman came to Ferris as he walked along the cliff. Ferris! What was the woman’s name?”

  “Gwenith, sir, a strange woman.”

  “A sitheach, one of the spirit folk!” Keir turned to Morgana. “Ah, yes, I remember now, the woman who brought you to me. Had she not performed her magic, I would never have met you. And now her magic has saved your life and brought you to me once again. By all the gods and goddesses, I wish I could meet her. She deserves a fine reward for all she has done.”

  Another question erupted inside Morgana’s head. “Alana, what about her? Has she really gone to take care of my father?”

  Keir hesitated, biting his lip, and held her ever closer. “I fear she suffered what might have been your fate. I . . . I don’t think you will see her again. Later, we must get the full story from Nola, but it seems she has done away with Alana.”

  “Ah, no! How could my sister be so wicked!”

  In knee-deep water now, Ferris sank the oar into the sand while Keir helped her out of the boat, then both of them waded in the water toward the shore. The water licked her legs and soaked her dress. Upon the shore, her hem dripped with water, her dress plastered to her body, but she ignored the discomfort, for she had never been so happy, so overjoyed to be with Keir again, this man she loved with all her heart.

  Ferris pulled the boat onto the sand, dragging it farther inland. “Sir, with your permission, I’ll go back to the lodge, tell Brigid the mistress is safe now.”

  “Yes, do that, Ferris. We’ll be along shortly.”

  Ferris clambered up the shallow ridge, soon disappearing from view.

  “Nola!” Morgana turned a troubled face toward her husband. “What will you do with her?”

  Keir paused, and she knew the problem weighed on him. “For now, she is locked up in her room. Later, we shall have to deal with her.” He embraced her, his arms tight around her waist, his voice low and tender. “Please, let us leave that for a later time. Now, I am so happy to have you back that I can think of nothing else.”

  “Nor I.” She pressed close to him, loving the feel of his strong body. He had never felt so good, she thought as she wrapped her arms around his neck, this man she would love and cherish until her dying day. She wanted to hold him near for the rest of their lives and never let him out of her sight. Overcome with joy, she drew back a little, gazing at his dear face, a face she would never tire of. Locks of his chestnut hair fell across his forehead, and lovingly, she eased the locks from his face.

  “Morgana!” He took her hand in his and kissed each finger, one by one. Despite her recent harrowing experience, she wanted to lie with him on the sand and make glorious love. Surely he felt the same. Her body warmed with a wave of longing.

  Keir murmured words meant to comfort, telling her again and again how much he loved her, how dear she was to him. He kissed her deeply while the waves lapped up on the shore, a light breeze off the ocean.

  “We’d better get you back,” he said in a husky voice. He lifted her up in his arms, holding her close to his chest.

  “Keir! You don’t need to carry me. I’m all right now. Perfectly capable of walking.”

  “After your ordeal?” His voice rumbled against her chest. “My darling, I don’t want you to strain yourself.”

  “It’s no strain for me to walk the short distance back to the lodge. Really, I’m not an invalid. I had an experience I would never want to repeat, but I’m still in good health.” She wanted only to forget that frightening episode, when she feared that she would be trapped inside the whale for the rest of her life and would never see her beloved again. She stifled a shudder, recalling the darkness, the relentless terror, her panicky attempts to escape. “Believe me, I can walk.”

  “Very well.” He set her down, his arm wrapped around her waist, his eyes steady on her. He brushed his lips against her cheek. “Sweetheart, if only you knew how worried I was about you, how happy I am to have you back.” He stopped, his voice choking. His eyes brimmed with tears.

  She pressed her breasts against his chest, feeling his heart beat next to her. “We’re together now, never to part again.” She tried to act normal, but Nola’s treachery tormented her. What would be her fate? What would their father say when they returned with her? And dear gods, how could they break the news to him? She vowed that for now, at least, she would strive to put Nola’s wickedness behind her, would pretend that this day was like any other. Happiness clashed with sorrow in her mind; overjoyed to be reunited with her husband, she recognized that it was because of Nola’s evil that they had been separated at all.

  * * *

  The lodge was quiet as they opened the door and stepped inside, prompting Keir to surmise that apparently Irvyn had followed his orders about taping Nola’s mouth and tying her up. A delicious smell of roast turkey wafted from the kitchen, reminding him how hungry he was, and surely Morgana must be hungry, too, he thought, unless her stay inside the whale had killed her appetite.

  Brigid came around the corner. “The mistress! Thank all the gods she is safe!”

  “And thanks to my husband and Ferris,”added Morgana. And Gwenith, Keir heard her say under her breath.

  After giving Brigid instructions to prepare a bath for his wife, Keir guided Morgana back to their bedchamber and sat down with her in his lap. Never mind that she was soaked, her dress slimy beneath his fingers. Like Brigid, he thanked all the gods that she was safe, this woman meant only for him, whom he would love and cherish for the rest of their lives.

  Once the bath was prepared, Keir gave further instructions to Brigid. “When the evening meal is ready, tell Irvyn to untie the princess’s sisters bonds, so that she may eat, too. But he must warn her that if she throws her plate–or chamberpot–she will have to clean up. After she finishes her meal, I want him to bind her mouth again and tie her to the bed, so she can sleep . . . if she will sleep.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He agonized that Nola would be a constant worry until they returned to Dornach, and even then, she might still cause trouble. She deserved the direst punishment, yet he feared her father would fall under her spell once more. The woman had killed one sister and had tried to kill another. She should be imprisoned in a dungeon for the rest of her days, but he dreaded that her father would inflict a much lesser sentence. Only the intervention of a good witch had saved his darling wife’s life.

  After undressing, Morgana sank into the hip bath, the warm water lapping around her. Keir began sponging her with camomile-scented soap, his fingers lingering on her full, wet breasts, then gradually moving downward on her body to the junction of her legs, finding the center of her passion. She leaned back and moaned, and he knew she wanted him as he wanted her. He ached for her, longing to make love to her here and now, yet he struggled against his need, for she must rest after her horrible ordeal. And she won’t get any rest if we make love, he thought, smiling to himself. Just the same, he hardened, at the point of bursting. How could he deny himself–and her–when all he could think about was to take her to the bed and plunge himself inside her? He forced himself to think of other things.

  “This woman, Gwenith,” he said, “she has performed miracles for you and me.”

  She turned her head slightly while he sponged her back. “Yes! She has done so much for me, for us. Most assuredly I would never have met you, had she not performed her magic, permitting me to attend the fair.” She touched his hand. “My dear one, how empty my life was before I met you.”

  “My darling, it is the same with me!” He swished the sponge around in the warm water, then lightly tipped her head back to wash her hair. “If only I could meet Gwenith some day, I would grant her a very ample award. She brought you to me and later saved your life! I could never thank her enough, even if given the chance.”

  “Let us hope some day the opportunity presents itself. I feel as you do. We owe her so much.”

  He rinsed her hair, then helped her stand, the water dripping from her luscious body that tempted him almost beyond endurance. She gave him a teasing smile, a smile impossible to resist. He wrapped a fluffy towel around her and pressed her close to his throbbing body. He held her ever closer and kissed her as liquid heat spread throughout his body, settling in his loins, driving him out of his mind. Ah, to have her now, to take her to bed–

  A knock sounded on the door. “Prince Keir, mistress, dinner is set on the table.”

  He sighed, mindful that the interruption was for the best. “Yes, we will be there shortly,” he called. He gave his wife a rueful look, accepting denial . . . for now. Her look held a bold promise of pleasures to come, yet he recognized that he still must postpone their lovemaking, for above all, his wife needed to rest . . .

  Hours later, after the sun sank below the horizon and the sky darkened, Ferris headed back to his bedchamber, leaving Keir and Morgana alone, for the caretakers had long since left for their own home. In the darkness of the parlor, Keir sat with Morgana on the sofa, enclosing her in his arms, loving the feel of her, the very essence of her. Strands of her camomile-scented hair, now dry, brushed against his face and teased his senses. He wanted her now, this moment, more than he had ever wanted anything in his life. Yet he couldn’t take advantage of her vulnerability, so soon after her harrowing nightmare.

  “Let me tell you more about my country,” he said, needing to fill the time with conversation, for if he stopped talking, he recognized that he’d be unable to resist her charms. Besides, if he didn’t speak of mundane things, he’d be unable to think of anything but Nola and her wickedness. Gods, what were they to do about that woman? Forget about her for now. Be thankful you have your wife back with you.

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10