Beloved Warrior (27 page)

She reached over and kissed him again, starting with his neck and working her way up.

“Ah, lass, you bring a magic with you.”

“No less than you. I feel wrapped in a spell.” She hesitated, then added, “I wish it to last forever.”

His hand caught hers, and he brought it to his mouth. For a moment, he said nothing, then in a voice little more than a whisper, “All spells end, Juliana. And reality rushes back.” His voice broke slightly. “This should never have happened. I have wronged you yet again, and there is no going forward. Nae with me.”

“Why?” She hated the plea in her voice.

“I canna make promises,” he said, and the Scottish brogue was stronger than ever. “I . . . want . . . but I canna. I might well be tried for piracy or worse. I would not have you involved in that.”

“I am involved.”

“Nay, you were a captive. You canna be blamed, but if . . .”

He stopped abruptly and she wondered whether she would ever know what the “if ” meant.

Not if the stubborn set of his jaw was any indication.

“I must go,” he said, touching her face with a gentleness she never would have expected days ago when she first saw him. “There will be rumors if I tarry longer.”

“I do not care.”

“I do, Juliana. I have not done well by you, and I will regret it all my years.”

“I will not,” she said. “No matter what happens, I will always remember the magic here. And be grateful for it.” She cared not whether she sounded young or foolish. She had to give voice to all the emotions she felt, to the surge of . . . love that washed through her as she watched the pain in his face as he struggled between conscience and need.

She didn’t care about conscience. Not anymore. There could be nothing wrong with what she felt. What he had just given her.

Patrick untangled himself from her arms and stood. He looked down at her for a long moment. Though his eyes were shuttered again, the length of that moment told her he did not want to go.

As if burned, he turned swiftly and left.

She swallowed the rock that seemed to have lodged in her throat. Holy Mary, but she loved him. And God had played a very mischievous trick on both of them.

 
“NOW tell me what is really happening,” Jamie said, as he followed Rory past the crowded great hall. He glanced curiously inside and started as he saw the dark complexioned Moors.

“Those,” he observed, “are no ordinary seamen.”

“I swear they are sailors,” Rory said. And they certainly had been, though involuntary ones.

“Odd sailors,” Jamie muttered.

“You get sailors where you find them.”

They went into his father’s office. Jamie plopped into a chair and took a draw of Rory’s fine wine.

“I need the truth, Rory,” Jamie persisted.

Rory merely threw him a quizzical glance.

“You are not a good liar, not with me,” Jamie said with a frown. “What is Patrick involved in? Do not forget my cousin lives here.”

“She is my wife,” Rory said grumpily. “I would not let harm come to Felicia.” He paused for a moment. “Patrick has been here only a few days. He was held for a ransom that was never paid. He is not yet sure who he can trust, and I canna fault that. Fa did nothing to promote brotherly feelings.”

“Ransom?” Jamie said. “Demands were sent to you?”

“Aye, thrice, he said. Each time it was said the message was delivered.”

“When would that have been?”

“Seven years ago.” Rory did not like the look in his friend’s eyes. “You would not be knowing anything about it?”

“Nay. But I will be making inquiries.”

Rory merely nodded, not liking that flash of comprehension in Jamie’s eyes.

“And the woman?” Jamie asked. “How did she come to be here, and who is she?”

“I thought we told you. A friend of Kimbra’s.”

“That is no English accent I recognize.”

“I did not know you had met every person in England.”

Jamie blinked a moment, then grinned. “No more questions then, but she is a beauty.”

“Aye,” Rory agreed cautiously.

“Your brother looks at her as if she is a particularly fine morsel.”

“He is fighting it,” Rory said, “but like Lachlan and myself he is probably doomed to failure.”

“He is in love then?”

“He does not realize it yet, but, aye, I think so.”

“That should soften him.”

“I do not think much will soften him at the moment.”

“Is there aught I can do?”

“Aye, there is. I need your ear in Edinburgh. The queen still holds you in high regard.”

“Not so much now. I tried to tell her the truth about some of her favorites.”

“But you are still received?”

“Aye. I believe so.” Jamie hesitated, then said, “I am not sure what I can do without knowing more.”

“I cannot say more at the moment.”

“It is trouble. I smell it.”

“It may be over in a few days. I can only ask on behalf of myself and Lachlan, forget about a ship. Forget about what you’ve seen here.”

“So it is dangerous?”

“You do not have to help. Patrick is not your concern.”

“Since when has that stopped me?” Jamie said with his old cockiness. It had diminished slightly after Flodden Field. Rory was amused to see it back.

“And what about Patrick?” Jamie continued. “I do not think he will relish any help from me.”

“I didn’t relish your help either,” Rory admitted with a grin. “It was a difficult lesson.”

Jamie chuckled. “How long do you need me at court?”

“I am not sure yet.”

“And what am I looking for?”

“Any news of a missing ship. One I hope everyone believes lies on the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean.” He paused. “I’m also trying to convince him to go to court to be recognized as laird and head of the clan.”

Jamie raised his eyebrows. “He is opposed to this?”

“He might be.”

“If his reaction to me is any indication, he will not welcome my help. I do not think he likes me.”

“I didn’t like you either,” Rory admitted again with a grin.

“I remember,” Jamie said ruefully. He had spent several days in the Maclean dungeon. “It takes Macleans a while to get used to me.”

Rory decided it was a good time to change the subject. Jamie was intrigued enough to go to Edinburgh. “And how is Janet and the bairn?”

“Very well.” He grinned. “She is with child again. That is another reason I came here. To give you the news.”

“That
is
good news,” Rory replied, but he could not keep concern from his voice. Janet had had a difficult time during the birth of her first child.

“I will ensure she takes better care of herself this time,” Jamie said. “No more riding for a while.” He hesitated, then added, “She would enjoy a visit from Felicia and Kimbra. That’s another reason for the visit.”

“Not a very good time for you to be away,” Rory said, guilt weighing on him.

“I will bargain with you. If Felicia can stay with Janet, then I will remain at court, though I wish to know more about why.”

“You will,” Rory promised. “Now about that wine . . .”

PATRICK felt he was in a daze as he sat at the head of the table. God help him, but his body still ached from bedding Juliana. It desperately wanted to repeat the experience.

He glanced toward her. She was inches away, but it seemed as far as winter from summer where Patrick was concerned. He could not help but notice that she looked different, and he feared everyone in the room had probably noticed it as well. Although they had parted two hours earlier, her cheeks were still the color of roses, and her eyes were luminous. If she had any regrets, they did not show.

He, on the other hand, had many, many regrets.

He knew, however, that given a choice he would still do it all over again. The simple fact was he could not stay away from her, could not keep his hands off of her, no matter how hard he tried.

Only distance would do that. Unfortunately he did not have distance. He only had his self-control, and it was desperately lacking.

“Jamie is going to Edinburgh to keep us abreast of news there,” Rory said, breaking the tension. “We think you should consider going with him. It would be what the heir would do. Too many Macleans already know you are here, and it will be suspicious if you do not go.”

It was obvious that Rory meant for him to stay at Inverleith permanently, whereas he had no intentions of now doing so, not when his very presence could mean danger to the Macleans. Nor did he want to be in debt to a Campbell. How much had his brother told him, this old enemy of the Macleans?

“Felicia is going to stay with my wife while I am gone,” Jamie broke in. “She will be leaving with the children tomorrow. Archibald and some of your Macleans will escort them,” Jamie said. “I will stay another day or two and see Lachlan, then we can ride to Edinburgh.”

It was the last thing Patrick wanted. He had no interest in charming a queen, especially an indecisive one. He most definitely did not wish to go with Jamie Campbell.

On the other hand, it would take him away from Juliana.

She glanced at him then, and he looked away. He feared his face would say far too much, especially as closely as Rory and the Campbell were watching.

“I hope you will be comfortable here at Inverleith,” Felicia said to Juliana. “Kimbra will see that you have everything you need.”

“Thank you. You have been very kind,” Juliana replied.

“I hope Patrick will bring you to Dunstaffnage. You will like Janet, and she will like you.”

“I do not know how long I will be here,” Juliana said.

“I hope it is a long time.” Felicia glanced at Patrick, then back at Juliana, a slight smile on her face.

Juliana did not answer but turned back to her food. Patrick saw her glance several times at Jamie.

Did she hope that Jamie might help her escape? He had seen her study the keep. But he knew well that no one could get in or out of Inverleith without going through the large gates, and he had instructed every Maclean to check each living thing that went through.

The thought that she might consider the idea was excruciating. Yet, why not? He had given her few choices.

She had come to him willingly. Not only willingly but with eagerness. But that did not mean she did not want to return to Spain or continue on to England.

He took another sip of the wine, though he had to be careful. He had to keep his wits about him.

He looked down the table again. The Spaniard was laughing with several Macleans. He had a talent for fitting in wherever he went. Denny sat quietly next to the Spaniard, but his gaze wandered around as if searching for something.

The others were seated. Most were drinking heartily; some of the oarsmen were beginning to gain some weight, and their voices were loud as they bragged about what they would to with their freedom and gold.

But what of Juliana? What kind of position had he placed her in? What would be the best thing for her? But then he had to think of the clan as well. What if they conflicted?

“You are frowning, Brother,” Rory said from his seat to the left of Patrick.

“Aye, I am wondering when Lachlan will arrive,” he lied. “Every day is dangerous.”

“He will soon be here.”

“He has changed much since I left.”

“He might be the strongest of us all,” Rory said. “It takes more courage to fight if you have fear and a loathing for killing.”

“And you, Rory, do you have fear?”

“Since my bairns were born, I have much fear. I want them to grow with love, not as we did.”

“You have been happy here.”

“Aye. I have learned to love Inverleith, but I also like Edinburgh. With Felicia and the wee ones, I cannot sail as I once did, but I can expand our trading interests. Believe me, Patrick, it is something I have longed to do.”

“And Lachlan?”

“He has turned into a fine merchant. He has an eye for goods. Your staying here as laird can allow Lachlan and I to do what we do best.”

Patrick searched for guile in the words but found none. There was only an invitation to belong. A real desire for him to take his place.

What had happened to those demands for ransom?

He no longer thought his brother was involved. His mind went back to his capture. He thought then it had been planned in some way. Two other Scots had been with him that day as they fought with the French. One had been a MacHugh, the other a McFarland. All he remembered about the day he had been taken was a blow, then darkness. When he woke,
his
hands were bound. He never saw his fellow Scots again. The MacHughs were known allies of the Campbells.

He had thought about it the year he had wasted in a Spanish dungeon.

Was Jamie Campbell truly a friend to the Macleans? He planned to find out.

 
PATRICK escorted Juliana to her chamber after the meal was over. They brushed against each other, and that brief contact brought back all those hot sensations in a rush.

Juliana wanted to reach out and touch him. She wanted more than a momentary brush, more than polite conversation in the great hall. She wanted what she’d had hours earlier.

They reached her chamber. She opened the door and stood inside.

“I will send Carmita to tend to you,” he said.

She nodded, though her heart thudded madly. She did not want Carmita’s anxious presence. Her maid had known immediately what had happened when she’d appeared to help her dress. She’d said nothing, but Juliana had seen the knowledge in her face.

She feared everyone had.

She wanted to hold out her hand to him. To invite him inside her chamber.

But there was no invitation in his eyes. They were shuttered again. Closed to her.