BULL: MC ROMANCE (Forsaken Riders MC Romance Book 6) (113 page)

Chapter 10

Andrea spent the rest of the day in the nunnery garden, sitting among the sweet smelling herbs and late roses. Alex had another meeting with his men about the preparation for the battle, but she would be seeing him later. She wished she knew more about history and this battle he was riding to.

Maybe it was better that she did not. How could you tell a man that he was riding to certain death or victory without changing the course of history?

She was confused about her feelings, too. How could she fall in love with a man from the past? She needed to return to her own time, but it would be difficult to leave him. She wondered how Grandma Betty had coped. Her relationship seemed to have lasted for several years, even though it was a blink of an eye back in her own time. The diary entries seemed to suggest that she thought it all a dream, yet slowly the details had started to emerge. Why had she kept the secret for so long?

She seemed to have stepped into her grandma’s shoes, but could she ever get back home, even if she wanted to? Andrea was convinced that the death of the child and even the death of Andra herself had been pivotal.

Tonight Alex would come to her bed chamber, and she felt apprehensive. Already she was falling for the man, and after tonight, they would be as one. Her head ached with the possible scenarios. What if Alex could return with her to 2015? Surely if she had traveled back in time, he could travel forward... Were there any rules? There was so much she didn’t know. And would a man like Alex want to live in 2015? With its noise and pollution and terrorist threats, you wouldn’t wish it on your worst enemy, let alone somebody you loved. It was hard enough to cope with traveling back 400 odd years, but to travel forward! The shock of the modern world would probably be too much to bear.

She managed to keep her distance from Helena. Only the silent nun with the twinkling eyes worked quietly alone in the garden. She seemed happy in her work and smiled occasionally over to Andrea.

The warmth of the sun and the sweet, quiet air made her drowsy, and she shut her eyes and tried to blot out her thoughts. Soon she drifted away and it was only the chill of the approaching evening that brought her out of her sleep.

Helena was waiting for her back in the small bed chamber, and Andrea wondered if she had been watching her throughout the day. The bed had been made and a fire was already blazing in the grate.

“You have seen my brother today?”

Andrea didn’t know if it was a statement of fact or a question. She was sure Helena already knew the answer.

“Yes, we met this morning and went down to the chapel. We had a good talk.”

“And you will allow him into your bed tonight.”

Andrea felt like telling her to mind her own bloody business, but this was not her time, and she couldn’t afford to get on the wrong side of the Abbess. Soon she would be left alone under her care, and she wasn’t sure how long it would take to get back home.

“Yes, he will be with me tonight.”

At least that seemed to satisfy the woman, and she nodded in acknowledgment.

“Geraldina will bring you hot water to wash and your supper before Alex arrives. He will be with his men until late.”

Soon the quiet nun brought in the water and laid out her supper on the bed. Once Andrea had washed and dressed in the long nightgown, she returned to have her hair brushed in preparation for her husband. As the young woman combed through the curls, Andrea was surprised to hear her humming. It was a tuneful melody and one that she had heard before, not some old medieval madrigal, but something modern from the twentieth century. Andrea was sure she knew the words, and then they came to her:

Long ago and far away
I dreamed a dream one day
And now that dream is here beside me.

It was one of her Gran’s favorite tunes, and as a child she had heard the Frank Sinatra version many times on the old gramophone.

Before she had chance to quiz the nun, there was a knock at the door and Alex stood in the doorway, awaiting her greeting.

The nun bowed out of the room, leaving the pair alone and Alex closed and locked the door behind him.

“Alex, what do you know of the little nun?”

His mind was on other things, but he humored her for a moment.

“I believe she has been at the nunnery for several years. She arrived here just after Andra came, and they soon became good friends.”

“And now she has taken a vow of silence?”

“I believe so. After we lost the baby. Somehow she seemed to think it was her fault.”

“Yet just now she was humming a tune...”

Alex walked over to her and silenced her with a kiss. There were other, more pressing things on his mind. This would be his last night with her, maybe his last night on earth. Who knew what would happen, except God himself?

Andrea responded quickly to his kisses, bending her head slightly towards him and wrapping her soft body against his firm and strong torso. He started to kiss her face, gently at first, with soft, light kisses that skimmed over the soft skin of her cheeks and made her body weaken before him, so much so that she had to lean further into his arms for support. His strong arms pulled her tightly to him, and she could taste the salt on his skin, the rosemary and lavender oils in his hair. His kisses became more ardent as he found her mouth and her soft lips yielded to his fierce passion, his tongue exploring and pressing down into the soft cushion of her mouth.

His strong hands pulled at the white cotton of her nightgown. He was eager to remove it and pulled at the material, his fingers soon finding the soft flesh beneath. Andrea moaned quietly to herself as his fingers skimmed her flat stomach, slowly stroking her skin until he reached the soft flesh of her pert breasts, the nipples hard and firm between his fingers. She had never been touched so tenderly before. Steve’s love-making had been quick and mechanical, and foreplay was just a word. Yet this was something so magical, so tender.

As he gently squeezed her yielding breasts, a quiver of delight spread throughout her body.

“Am I pleasing you?” His voice was low and lustful as he whispered softly into her ear.

Andrea nodded, her eyes closed in ecstasy as his mouth covered the soft skin of her neck. He continued kissing down towards her collar bone as his hands found the hem of her nightgown and pulled it up and over her head.

Now she was fully naked on the bed before him. Alex stood by the window, his eyes ablaze in the candlelight as he admired her naked form. She looked exactly like Andra in this light, and his heart almost stopped with sheer joy. Part of this girl was his beloved wife—that he was certain of. He could feel it deep down in his soul, and so could she.

Andrea suddenly felt shy in his gaze, like it was her very first time, and she wrapped her arms around her waist as she gazed up at the handsome lover standing before her.

“You are the most beautiful thing that I have ever seen.”

His eyes never left hers as he crossed the room to join her on the bed. Stretching out beside her, he cupped her breasts with his hands before moving his lips over the soft flesh, sucking on her small nipples until they were hard and erect. She could hardly bear the pleasure and thought she would explode with sheer delight. Andrea wanted Alex as much as he needed her. His long fingers slid up towards the soft and lean flesh of her inner thigh and instinctively she opened her legs slightly, allowing him access. As he brushed over her soft mound, she let out a small cry of delight as his fingers slid quickly within her soft, moist flesh. Andrea moaned with sheer bliss as his deft fingers pleasured her in a way she had never been pleasured before. He was an expert in his craft.

His face was a mask of desire as he sat up and started to slowly part her legs before lowering his mouth onto her, his deft tongue licking lightly over her wetness and into the soft and intimate folds. A wave of pleasure caused her to arch her back towards him, pushing herself towards his mouth and desperate for more. Alex didn’t want her pleasure to be over, not until he was inside her, so he stopped suddenly, kneeling before her on the bed.

Now it was time to remove his clothing, for them to be together, skin on skin. His hands were shaking with pent up desire as he removed his tunic and stood before her to unfasten his undergarments. His fervor was already discernible in the shape of his large and erect manhood, pushing through the thin material of his undershirt.

His physique was incredible, so much more than the muscular guys down at the gym. They were only posturing at being real men with their designer suits and cocktails whereas Alex was the real thing, from his rippling biceps to his taut, muscle-bound thighs. He was the perfect Adonis stripped naked before her, and she could not take her eyes of his magnificent body. He was well endowed too, his thick cock quivering against his belly, and she ached to have him inside her. Now undressed, he lay beside her on the bed, covering her with his lean body. She could feel his hard and muscular cock, hot and throbbing against her leg. Opening her legs, he knelt between them, and taking his thick cock in his hands, placed the end at her entrance and pushed gently. The head of his penis entered her easily; she could feel it throb against her aching walls and squeezed against him. Alex gasped and pushed even further into her. She had never taken anyone so big before, and as he pushed further inside, she caught her breath and arched her back towards him, angling herself for full penetration.

Andrea braced herself, and with one final push, he was inside her. She felt a dull ache as his girth stretched against her, and he lay there without moving, except for the beating of his heart and his cock, throbbing away inside of her. After several moments, he began to move, thrusting gently to begin with, but soon more urgently. He pummelled in and out of her, lost in the oblivion of his own lust. Andrea closed her eyes as a wave of pure pleasure ripped through her at the same time his cries reached a climax, and he exploded into her with a cry that came from the pit of his soul.

Collapsing at her side, he gathered her to him as their soft bodies molded to one another until they were one. She was soon asleep in his arms, gently sighing in the depths of night, and he hoped that her dreams were pleasant. Alex wanted to hold her forever, for the night to never end. He could not sleep but watched over her sleeping form until the day began to break and the sun rose in the heavens. The day had dawned when he would have to leave her, and perhaps it was the last time he would hold her like this. She may not be his Andra in the flesh, but they were bound by their spirits. His love had returned, of that he was certain.

All too soon it was the morning, and Andrea stirred. There was a hollow space where Alex’s warm body had been, and her arm stretched across the bed to reach out for him. The bed was empty. She sat up with a start and looked around her. There was no sign of him, only the lingering notes of basil and rosemary clinging to the pillow.

Rosemary for remembrance.

Before she had chance to get out of bed, the door opened and in stepped Helena, her eyes red and swollen as if she had been crying.

Her body was tense and she spoke in a cold and throaty whisper. “There is no need to rush, he has gone. He left early with his men this morning. You must pray for his safe return, for if he does not, I do not know what will happen here.”

She felt exposed and threatened. Andrea had not expected that Alex would leave her without saying goodbye. Perhaps their farewells would have been too much to bear?

He had to focus on the task ahead and could not allow his thoughts to wander back to her. Yet she must wait for him before she returned, that was the least she could do. Not only that, he had the rune, and she didn’t have any other options.

Her one ally seemed to be the young nun, Geraldina, but once again she seemed sworn to her silent vow. Andrea had tried to question her about the old song she had been humming, but she had only smiled and held a conspiratorial finger to her quiet lips.

Chapter 11

For the next month, Andrea sat and waited. There was little to do except visit the Abbey or the Chapel or walk along the shoreline. Wherever she went, she seemed to feel Helena’s eyes watching her every move. They barely spoke and Helena spent most of the time praying for her brother’s safe return. The seasons began to change and autumn slowly turned into winter. As the air grew chill, Andrea’s belly began to swell. She was pregnant with Alex’s child. At first she could hardly believe it, but it seemed almost atonement for the lost boy. Although she did not believe in God, she too started to pray for his safe return, for without him she would be lost and alone in this strange world.

The end of the year passed without word, until one day with the arrival of the first snow, a message came that the MacDonalds had defeated the Campbells at Inverlochy. The men would be home soon. There had been casualties on both sides, but it was difficult to tell what had happened to Alex or if he was safe. They would have to wait a few weeks more before they knew.

Late one night, Andrea was awoken from her sleep by the shouts of men and horses outside her window. Opening her curtains she could see the shadows of dozens of men, some walking, some on horseback. The warriors were returning. Slipping a cloak over her nightgown and putting on her slippers, she rushed out into the night. Helena never bothered to lock her door now; after all, there was nowhere she could go. As she ran among the men, she tried to look in their faces for Alex’s familiar features. It wasn’t easy. Some of the men held torches aloft, their features wickedly burnished in the golden light. She could see that some of them bore scars or lumps of flesh ripped from their faces in the most hideous fashion. Other men limped or wore their arms in slings. Others less fortunate were carried on makeshift stretchers made from old linen and planks. Her stomach was swollen in front of her, and as she hurried along, she felt the baby kick so she slowed her pace. It was best not to tire herself. As she approached the landing platform by the sea, the line of men had thinned until there was only one lone figure standing over the empty fishing boats. The figure was cloaked in black; it was Helena, and she was looking wistfully across the water, willing her brother to return.

“Is he here?”

She knew the answer already. If Alex had returned to Iona, then his sister would have been the first by his side.

At first the figure did not respond, and Andrea didn’t know if her voice had been heard above the crashing of the waves.

Eventually the figure turned to face her, the skin glowing pale in the moonlight. The eyes were full and stared through the girl. She had never felt so much hate in her life. Without speaking a word, the Abbess pushed roughly past, leaving her alone.

Andrea swallowed hard, sensing something must be wrong. Her stomach lurched, and she tried to remain calm for the sake of the child within her. Surely somebody must know.

She set off back down the track to catch the men, asking the first group she saw if they knew what had happened to Alex. They all shook their heads, most of them too tired to speak after their exertions. She couldn’t tell if they were sparing her the truth because of her condition or if they genuinely didn’t know.

Finally, she caught up with Helena who was engaged in conversation with a couple of older men. She hid out of sight but within earshot. The men were shaking their heads and the woman put her face into her hands, running back to the sanctuary of the nunnery.

At a much slower pace, Andrea followed in her footsteps and found her standing alone in the cloisters, half bathed in moonlight and half in shadow. An eerie halo had gathered around the moon and Andrea could feel the dread mounting in her own heart.

“What’s happened to Alex?”

The words rushed out into the darkness and then disappeared amid their breathy exhalation.

Helena could have been a statue standing there in the moonlight. She did not move for several seconds.

“He is dead. My brother is dead.”

The words almost stopped her heart. It couldn’t be true.

Andrea rushed over to the woman, hoping that they could unite in their shared grief, yet despite her condition, Helena pushed her away with such a force that she landed in the damp grass.

“Don’t you dare touch me! You are responsible for this. I knew when you first arrived that you would bring trouble.”

The woman was grief-stricken, but there was no need to treat her so unkindly. Slowly Andrea rose to her feet.

“Helena, I...”

“Do not speak to me. The damage has been done.”

“But what did I do? Alex died in battle, surely?”

Helena turned and walked towards her, a finger raised in accusation. “You bewitched my brother from the start. I don’t know where you came from, but you are not from this world. When you showed me the rune, I understood. You have been practicing the art of black magic upon us for your own ends. And now you have killed him.”

Andrea looked on in wonder. She had always thought that Helena did not like her, perhaps had been jealous of her relationship with Alex, but never thought that she hated her. The accusations were ludicrous. The woman was obviously mad.

“Helena, I am carrying your brother’s child, your nephew, his only heir.”

The Abbess scoffed in her face. “Oh, you would like to think so, wouldn’t you? I doubt the child you carry has anything to do with Alex. You have probably made a pact with the devil – there will be something unnatural about this child, like the other one. That’s why it could not live. Maybe it is even one of our enemy’s seed, a Campbell’s perhaps? I never trusted you before with your late-night wanderings. Why did you think I locked your door each night? Now I must go and pray for my brother’s soul.”

Left alone in the quiet night air, Andrea began to weep for the loss of Alex as the reality hit her. She had only known him briefly, but it seemed like years, and the grief was very real. She could understand why Helena thought she was a witch. It was 1645 for crying out loud, and people had funny ideas about the devil, but how on earth could she convince her otherwise? As she wept into her cloak, she heard footsteps approach. It was Geraldina, and taking her by the arm, she ushered Andrea back into the warmth. The young nun had lit a new fire and several of the candles. Andrea shivered. She hadn’t realized how tired and cold she was.

The tears still ran down her face as she undressed and put on her nightgown, remembering her last night here with Alex. Without him, what would become of her and the child? Without the rune, she may never return home.

Tucked up in bed, Geraldina brought her a draught of the bitter herbal medicine. She trusted the young girl and drank it straight down. She had to think about the baby now and how they could survive. It wasn’t long until she was in a deep sleep and dreaming.

She was standing in the middle of a battle zone, and there were Highlanders and English men fighting all around her, but she seemed to be a ghost and able to pass through them, unharmed. And although the battle raged fiercely on all sides of her, there was no noise except for the melancholy whine of a lone piper. A mist appeared and someone was calling her name. No, not her name—Andra’s. She recognized the voice; it was Alex calling out to her through the void. As the mist rose, she could see him, battle worn and bloody but not dead.

“Wait for me, Andra,” he was saying, over and over again.

When she awoke, she felt calmer as if Alex had really been with her. Maybe there was still hope, but she would keep it to herself.

She expected Geraldina to bring her breakfast and was surprised when Helena opened the door with her meal. She braced herself for another onslaught of venom.

Placing the tray on the bed, Helena walked over to the window.

“Andra, I am deeply sorry about last night. The news of my brother’s loss hit me strongly and I spoke out of turn. I have not been as welcoming to you as perhaps I should have, and I think that I should start to make amends, especially as you are carrying his child. After breakfast, come walking with me. The air will do us both good.”

It was a struggle for the older woman to say the words, and her face twisted with every vowel. She was trying hard to be pleasant, but her manner left Andrea cold. Still, if Helena could make the effort, then so could she.

The girl smiled and nodded. “I could do with some air and exercise too. I will come to you after I have dressed.”

Andrea ate up her breakfast. She needed to keep up her strength. Then, pulling on her layers of stockings and tunic to keep warm, she wrapped a large woollen blanket around her shoulders to keep off the chill from the sea air. Helena was already waiting for her by the door, and the two women set off into the bright winter air.

Together they walked over the brow of the Island to the northern-most point, the “Bay of the Breaking Waves,” the locals called it. The view was spectacular and the women walked on in silence, each one thinking of Alex in their own way. As they rounded the hill, Andrea began to break out into a sweat, becoming breathless before the pains started in her abdomen. Clutching her belly, she shouted out to Helena who was walking slightly ahead of her. By the time Helena had turned around, Andrea had already slipped to the stony ground, writhing in agony.

The Abbess walked over to the girl, a strange look upon her face. She was about to speak when a voice called out to them in the distance, and a small black figure approached them. It was Geraldina, who, noticing that Andrea had not taken her cloak, followed the two women to bring the garment.

“Geraldina, come quick, the young mistress is unwell, and we need to get her back to the nunnery as a matter of urgency.”

Slowly and carefully, the two women supported her back to the room. Luckily, they hadn’t walked too far and within half an hour, Andrea was tucked up in her bed with a roaring fire in the grate. The pain had subsided in her stomach, but her heart was racing and she had a fever. The physician had examined her and left another draught of bitter herbs to help her rest.

She slept for the rest of the day, and by suppertime she was feeling much better and sat up in bed to eat a small meal that Helena had brought for her. The Abbess had showed her great kindness that day, and Andrea wondered if she had been wrong to doubt her. It was only when Geraldina came to check on the fire about midnight that anyone realized the attack had happened yet again. After her meal, Andrea had slept only to wake with a raging thirst and a pounding head. As she had tried to get out of bed for a glass of water, the stabbing pains started again and she was too weak to shout for help.

The young nun wet a rag with cold water and laid it on her forehead. Andrea was almost delirious with pain but could see Geraldina smiling kindly down at her. For once the girl spoke.

“Listen to me. There is not much time. Helena is trying to poison you; she does not want you nor the child, now that her brother is dead. She is poisoning you through the food, and I cannot stop her–but I can give you an antidote for the poison. Here, drink this up and you will soon be feeling better.”

The nun went on to pour three drops of a reddish-brown liquid into a goblet and filled the rest with water.

Andrea drank down the potion; it tasted sweet and of berries, and within five minutes the fever had eased and the pains gone.

“You must take three drops of this with water before and after each meal to protect you. Now I must go, I have been here too long.” And leaving a small vial on the bed, the nun left, locking the door behind her.

She was in deadly danger. If Helena was trying to kill her, then she would stop at nothing. Geraldina’s potion would only prolong the inevitable. She had been right all along about Helena. Grandma Betty had returned back to the present on the seeming death of Andra, but then again she had the rune. What would happen if Andrea died without it in her hands?

All night she lay awake, afraid of every noise, of every footstep in case it was Helena’s. She tucked the glass vial under her pillow out of sight. Without the young nun’s help, she would have been dead already. She must keep the faith.