The Bewitching Twin (6 page)

“What brought you here?”

“Love.”

T
hey entered the cottage and were soon settled at the table to eat the meal that had been delayed several hours.

“You cannot tell me that love brought you here and then say no more,” Aliss urged. “Tell me the story.”

“It breaks the heart,” he warned.

“Most love stories do. Now tell me.”

He watched eagerness break through her weary-filled eyes and turn them bright green. Rogan rested his arms on the table and began his tale.

“My father had to make it on his own since he was eight. His father refused to claim him and his mother died from sickness. He found that few were interested in a lad with blood of Scot, English, and Norse mixed in his veins. He wandered for a good many years accumulating others just like him.

“Together they forged a clan, and since my father had always admired the nature of the wolf, he took its name. The Wolf clan was born and my father was its leader. He along with his men would hire out as mercenaries. It was while in the service of a powerful chieftain that he met my mother.”

“They fell in love.” Aliss smiled with excitement.

“Almost instantly, though they dared not admit it to anyone, even themselves. You see, her father had plans for her to wed another, a uniting of two powerful clans.”

“That was to be my sister’s fate, an arranged marriage, though it worked out well for her.”

“Not so my mother. They knew their only chance to be together was for my mother to run away with my father.”

Rogan grew silent. His father had recited the tale often to him and the memories he had imparted were harsh and bitter for Rogan to recall, yet endearing in their own special way.

“Memories hurt.”

He heard compassion in her voice and knew that she had to have suffered a similar loss. Only someone who had known loss could truly understand its unique pain.

He continued. “My parents returned to my father’s land. They soon discovered that my mother’s father intended to come after her and they decided to leave, not wanting to place the Wolf clan in jeopardy. The clan would not hear of losing their leader. They all agreed to join him.”

Rogan’s glance drifted down to his hands, clenched on the table in front of him.

He was not surprised when Aliss squeezed his hands reassuringly.

He looked up at her, her beauty startling, her concern obvious, her tender touch palpable, and a sense of loving warmth flooded him. He had realized of late just how very comfortable he felt when with her. She was so very easy to talk with, even to share the silence with. Theirs was a natural companionship—or was it more?

“What happened?”

“My mother was taken away from me before I saw my first year. He came for her, her father, with more men than my father could battle, though battle he would have if my mother had not stopped him.

“My father told me that she refused to see the Wolf clan slaughtered because of her and—” He bit back the anger and bitterness. “Her father warned that he would slice her son’s throat in front of her and let her watch me bleed to death if she did not return willingly with him.”

“Did you ever see your mother again?”

Rogan shook his head. “Mother made my father promise to take me away. She did not trust her own father. She feared he would see me dead regardless of what she had agreed to and Father agreed with her. We never saw my mother again.”

“How very sad for you all.”

Rogan reached up and wiped away the lone teardrop that lingered in the corner of Aliss’s eye. “Love can be sad and it can be happy, but love is forever beautiful—just like you.”

He watched her body tense and she took her hand off his. He did not want her to shy away from him. He wanted to learn more about her, come to better understand her, this woman who lovingly healed yet evaded loving.

“What of your parents?” he asked.

Her smile was slow in coming, as if she had to think on the question, then it suddenly burst wide and generous.

“I have two sets of parents.”

“Two?”

“There were the parents that raised Fiona and me, a kind and loving couple, and then there are our birth parents, Oleg and Anya. They are also kind and loving. We were taken from them when we were newborn babes. Fiona and I have only recently reunited with them and with a brother, Raynor.”

“How did you feel when you learned about them?”

“It was strange to suddenly discover that the loving parents who raised you are not truly your parents. Upon meeting my real parents, I found myself feeling terribly sorry for my mother as I do for your mother. Neither of them were able to watch their children grow, hug us, laugh with us, cry with us, though they always continued to love us.”

“You would make a good mother.” He almost laughed when her eyes sprang wide, her mouth dropped open, and she sat speechless.

She was quick to rein in her shock. “I do not have time for children.”

“No?” he questioned. “That is odd. You deal so well with ill children. Even the devilish little Daniel behaves around you.”

She jumped as if his name sparked a thought. “We need to discuss Daniel.”

“Now?” he asked, knowing she was uncomfortable with where their conversation had drifted and looked to avoid it.

“You told me you would help to unravel the mystery of this illness, and I believe Daniel is the best place to start.” She shook off a yawn.

“Tomorrow,” he said. “You need to sleep.”

“There is too much on my mind. Sleep will elude me tonight.”

“Try anyway. We will discuss this in the morning.” He stood and waited for her to stand, leaving her no choice but to follow his lead.

She did not budge. She dismissed him with, “I will see you in the morning.”

“Not this time.”

Her wide-eyed innocent gaze made him laugh. “I have no intention of leaving you at this table to fall asleep like last time. You will get in that bed now.” He pointed to her bed.

He smiled as her protest was swallowed by a yawn.

Rogan walked around the table, took her hand and gently eased her to her feet. He tucked a curly red strand behind her ear, tugged at her earlobe then ran a finger along her chin. It was impossible not to, she was so soft and touchable.

“You are tired. Why fight it? Sleep and we will discuss Daniel in the morning.”

“But—”

He pressed a finger to her lips and wished instead it was his lips that silenced her. A taste, that was all he wanted; a taste of her sweetness.

He lowered his head.

Rogan jumped, startled, then she ducked out of his arms like a frightened animal fleeing capture and hurried into bed.

“We will talk in the morning,” she said and pulled the covers over her head.

She lay curled in a ball and he would have loved to have gone to her, join her under the covers and simply hold her in his arms. She needed to be held and loved gently.

He shook off his foolish thoughts, turned and went to seek the solace of sleep. His mind had been filled with Aliss of late and in ways he had not intended.

He knew someday he would find love again, but with Aliss?

It was not in his plans, but then plans changed all the time.

Aliss watched the sun rise. It rose like a majestic fiery ball; its rays stretching over the land to nourish all it touched. The seedlings she had planted had sprung and the tiny plants turned eager leaves toward the sun.

She mimicked them, lifting her face up for a kiss.

The small village was just coming to life and she was reminded of her own clan and of her sister. She missed her. A day did not go by that she did not think of Fiona and returning home. A day also did not go by without Rogan popping into her thoughts.

He would be there suddenly in her head when she least expected it. It was usually a recollection of something he had said to her or the thought of his hand on hers, warm and strong and welcoming.

It had disturbed her to realize she had welcomed his touch, innocent as it was, though was it? Lately she was beginning to notice his hand reached out to her more and more and she did not mind. His touch seemed natural and somehow right.

Aliss walked along the outskirts of her garden, meaning to tend it. Instead, she weeded her way through her chaotic thoughts.

She could not continue to deny her attraction to the warrior wolf, nor could she make sense of it. It was as if it had happened without thought or reason. It was simply born naturally.

As love was so often born.

She shook the nonsensical thought from her head. Love had nothing to do with it. Circumstance was what had produced her strange musings. Her abduction had forced their closeness. She lived in Rogan’s cottage, shared meals with him. He had even given her his deceased wife’s clothes to use.

She stroked the soft, dark green wool skirt and fingered the pale yellow blouse she wore. Had her wearing his wife’s garments rekindled memories in him? Had he suddenly felt the emptiness of his loss and looked to her to ease his grief?

Aliss sighed in frustration. Why did she waste time on such nonsense? This was the very reason she had not wanted to wed. She had not wanted her mind distracted from her work.

There was a time she had thought that there could be a balance between her work and love. After observing couples and their daily lives, she realized that had been just a dream. Marriage took work, understanding, and patience. She spent her patience on her healing. She feared she would have none left for a man.

“Heavy thoughts this morning?”

Aliss grabbed her chest and spun around to face Rogan. “You frightened me.”

“I called out to you.”

“I did not hear you.”

He approached her, a plaid of mixed dark colors wrapped around him, his chest bare, his hair rumpled from a night’s sleep and his green eyes sharp and steady on her.

“Then you
were
lost in heavy thoughts,” he said and stopped in front of her.

“A common trait of mine,” she admitted.

“Something you wish to discuss?”

Aliss attempted to ignore the firm muscles in his wide chest and the thickness of his arms. There was strength there and power. She had felt it time and again when he had lifted her so effortlessly. He could fight barehanded without a problem.

She suddenly recalled how Rogan had attacked Hellewyk land and pierced Tarr’s arm with one mighty blow of a hand-held arrow. She had tended the wound, amazed at the strength it would take to accomplish such a feat.

Now she saw for herself the strength in the man who had injured her brother-in-law and shivered.

He reached out to her and she stumbled away from him.

“What is wrong?”

“You attacked Hellewyk land in search of me? Why? You could have just requested my help.”

“Tarr would never have allowed you to leave with me.”

She did not argue the truth. Tarr would have never permitted her to go with Rogan.

“Your silence tells me we are in agreement.”

She gave a reluctant nod then suddenly asked a question that had lingered in the recesses of her mind since arriving there. “What of the Isle of Non?”

He hesitated before answering, “What of it?”

She shrugged. “I recall my brother Raynor mentioning that he chased you and your men off the isle. Why were—”

He didn’t let her finish. “I thought the isle belonged to Tarr.”

His troubled expression caught her curiosity. Why would the ownership of the isle concern him? “A dispute that has been settled with the joining of the two clans. But what interest do you—”

“I hope someday you will understand the reasons behind my actions.”

“I hope so too, but what of the isle—” She stopped and stared into the woods. “Did you see that?”

“See what?” he asked, and followed her glance.

She shook her head. “I must be seeing things. I could have sworn I saw a pair of green eyes.”

“My men patrol the woods regularly. More than likely it was one of them you saw.”

She continued to stare into the woods. “The eyes looked like they breathed life.”

“A trick of the light,” he suggested.

She did not agree. “I think not.”

“I will search the woods myself,” he assured her.

She reached out and grasped his arm. “No, you must not go yourself. Promise me.”

He laughed. “You fear for me?”

She released his arm quickly and stepped away from him, feeling more foolish than ever. “Do what you will. It matters not to me.”

He approached her again, but she walked away.

“I wish to tend my garden.” She bent down and yanked a small weed, squeezing it in her hand.

He grabbed her arm and hauled her to her feet. “Is it so hard to admit you care what happens to me?”

“I care what happens to everyone.”

“I am no different?” he asked, releasing her.

She stared at him, her heart pounding.

“Aye or nay will do,” he said.

“It is not that simple.”

“Why not? Open your eyes, see for yourself, and you’ll have your answer.”

“My eyes are open.”

“My mistake,” he said caustically. “It is your heart that you need to open.”

She gasped. “My heart is more open than yours will ever be.”

Rogan laughed. “Your heart is locked away.”

“I dare—”

“Speak the truth?”

“I will listen to no more.” She marched past him.

He grabbed her, yanking her against his chest. “Not even to what your own heart and mind tell you?”

“They tell me not to be foolish.”

“Mine tells me to take a chance.”

“On what?”

“On you.”

Aliss yanked her arm free and she ran into the cottage, knowing she was running more from herself than from him.

A
liss slammed her fist on the table and cursed her own anger. Her eyes were open wide, very wide. She knew exactly what she saw. Did she not?

She rubbed the spot between her eyes. The area that always ached when she thought too much. It was a dull ache, not a throb, and more annoying than painful.

How to get rid of it?

Stop pondering?

She laughed at herself. That was not likely, especially now since she felt the fool for treating Rogan so rudely. He had been nothing but kind to her since her capture. At first, she had feared her treatment at his hands, for rumors had presented the Wolf as a fierce warrior to be feared.

Gradually, she had learned differently. Rogan was nothing as she had imagined him, and in a strange way, his kindness had proven difficult for her. The Wolf was no longer the predator she first thought him to be. He did not bite, though sometimes he snarled, but he always protected her.

Then why had she grown angry with him?

Because he spoke the truth?

Did she refuse to open her heart and take a chance?

Being a healer, she had always embraced sound reasoning. It allowed her to examine and dissect illnesses so that she could logically find a treatable solution. She had not reacted logically to Rogan’s remark, but why? Because she did not want to think that perhaps he was right and there was an issue she needed to explore. She had enough on her mind right now; she needed no more problems to ponder.

She sighed, feeling she owed him an apology. She needed more time to consider his words. She turned and hurried out of the cottage.

She stopped abruptly just outside the door, confronted by half a dozen warriors on horses. Rogan was in the middle of them atop his pure white mare. His intense features were in sharp contrast to how they had looked only moments before.

His green eyes looked ablaze with fury, his mouth closed tightly as if he forcibly kept his words from erupting, and every muscle in his chest and arms was taut as a fine-strung bow.

Rogan looked ready to do battle.

He turned his head her way and his eyes seared her like a fiery hot arrow. She placed her hand on her chest, covering her heart.

Rogan looked to John, who stood to the side. “Keep her in sight.”

With that, he took off, his men following.

Aliss turned her attention to John. “What is wrong?”

“I cannot say.” He turned away from her.

She stepped in front of him. “You must know something.”

“I know nothing.” John insisted.

“Should I be concerned?”

John shook his head vehemently. “Rogan would never let anything happen to you.”

“You must get tired of being the one who guards me.”

John’s youthful eyes turned wide. “No, no. It is an honor, Rogan choosing me to guard you.” He grinned. “Besides, this way I get to see Anna.”

“Then let us not keep her waiting,” Aliss said. “I only need to get my basket.”

“I will get it,” John said, and hurried into the cottage.

Aliss looked to the distance and sent a silent prayer for Rogan’s safe return. Suddenly the skin on the back of her neck prickled.

“Aliss, come to me.”

Aliss turned at the whispered summons of a woman.

Green eyes glared at her from the woods and the soft voice continued to summon her until finally she obeyed and walked into the woods.

“You were not to let her out of your sight,” Rogan said, having returned an hour later to find his village in uproar and a search for Aliss in progress.

John’s hands trembled as he offered an explanation. “A minute. I only left her a minute, to fetch her basket. I returned and she was gone. I searched and searched.” He shook his head. “I could not find her anywhere.”

Anna stilled his shivering hands with her confident ones. “We all began searching as soon as we realized she was missing. Anyone who was able helped.”

Rogan dismounted and threw his reins to a waiting young lad. Anna and John did not wait for their leader’s command and quickly left to rejoin the search.

Derek approached Rogan. “She could have attempted an escape.”

“Do you believe that?” Rogan snapped.

“No, Aliss would not leave the ill, but it was your first thought.”

“It crossed my mind,” Rogan said with a near growl.

“She will leave sooner or later, will she not?”

“Mind your business, Derek. It is safer for you that way.”

“I know you too well,” Derek said. “Be careful, my friend, do not let the misery of the past rob you of a happy future.”

“I can have no happy future until I have settled the past. Now do you help search for Aliss or stand here and lecture me?”

“We found her! We found her!”

Rogan turned in the direction of the shout and took off.

He stopped suddenly when he saw Aliss on the forest floor, green grass, rotted bark, and brush cushioning and partially covering her prone body. Nature had concealed her well in her bosom.

Anna and John kneeled beside her, Anna gently patting her pale cheeks in an attempt to wake her.

Rogan dropped to his knees beside her, leaned down near her ear, and whispered, “Wake up, Aliss.”

He locked his strong hand protectively around her chilled one and squeezed, letting her know that he was there with her and he would let nothing happen to her.

“You are safe.” The words reverberated in a whisper near her ear in hopes that they would penetrate her deep sleep and free her.

“What are you doing on your knees?”

His head snapped up and he stared into her shining green eyes that opened wide, closed, and fought to open again.

Aliss moved her head slowly from side to side. “I am on the ground.”

“That you are,” Rogan said with a wide smile, relieved that she had woken.

“How did I get here?”

“I thought you would answer that question.”

“Anna, John?” She stared at the couple. “ What are you doing here?”

“They searched for you and found you,” Rogan explained.

“I was lost?”

“You disappeared when I went to fetch your healing basket,” John said.

“No, I waited for you.” Aliss was adamant.

“And?” Rogan asked, concerned to hear what followed.

Aliss glared at him for a moment, wrinkled her brow and shook her head. “I do not remember.”

“You do not know how you came to be in the woods?” Rogan asked.

Aliss was startled. “I am in the woods?”

Rogan slipped his arm beneath her back and helped her to sit up. “See for yourself.”

She looked about her. “Motherwort,” Aliss said, pointing to a reddish-violet plant. “I must pick some.” She attempted to stand.

“Stay where you are,” Rogan ordered.

“I often gather motherwort for the women,” Anna said. “I will get some for you.”

Aliss stared at Anna for a moment.

“Is something wrong?” the young woman asked.

Aliss shook her head. “Something about—” She shook her head again. “My mind is foggy.”

“You will rest. Anna will see to the plant,” Rogan said and waited, prepared for her to disagree.

“That is a good idea. Will you help me up?”

He almost fell back, so surprised was he by how easily she had agreed. She grabbed his arm and he lifted her to her feet. She seemed uncertain of her footing and kept her hand gripped to his arm. He slipped his other arm around her waist to steady her until he was certain her legs would hold her.

When her steps were finally stable, she continued to cling to him, pressing her body close to his. He drew her into the nook of his arm, wanting her to know she was safe, wanting to keep her safe.

During the short walk to the cottage, Rogan gave thought to Aliss’s disappearance and discovery. She had not been that far into the woods or her body that concealed that it should have taken so long to find her. Which led him to wonder if the prophetess, Giann, had a hand in this.

“It is odd that I do not remember how I came to be in the woods,” Aliss said when they entered his cottage.

He reluctantly released her to sit on the edge of her bed while he stoked the fire to ward off the chill that pervaded the room. He wanted her warm and comfortable, safely tucked away in his home where no harm could befall her, if only for the day.

“I do not recall entering the woods,” she said. She tugged off her boots, crossed her legs and tucked her feet beneath her, her elbow on her knee and her chin resting in her hand.

Rogan sat beside her, her covered foot pressed against his thigh. Her foot was small, her toes playing against his muscled thigh, stretching and kneading the ache away.

“What do you recall?” he asked and reached beneath her skirt to take hold of her foot and massage the tender flesh.

She sighed long and softly, and it tingled his insides.

“Waiting for John as he had told me to do.”

“I had thought you fearful of the woods and never would have expected to find you there.” His fingers worked on the sole of her foot, kneading and rubbing and feeling her relax to his touch.

“The eyes—” She paused, and her brow creased. “Hmmm, that feels so good.”

“What about the eyes?” Curious himself.

She shook her head slowly. “I cannot . . . hmmm, your hands work magic.”

His hand drifted up her ankle to knead her silky flesh and she leaned her head back, closing her eyes and sighing her pleasure.

“Magic, pure magic,” she said with a smile. “I know there is much that I should be thinking on but right now I do not want to think on anything.”

“You deserve to rest.”

“No, there is something I should remember. Something important.”

“It can wait—”

“Why can I not remember?”

“Do not concern yourself with that now,” he said, feeling that he had surmised correctly. Giann definitely had had a hand in Aliss’s disappearance. Her skills were great and could make one forget she had ever been in her presence.

She rubbed her head and slouched against him as though she had fallen into the comfortable position a thousand times before.

“This confuses me.”

“Do not worry over it. It will do you no good.”

She raised her head. “I am missing something.”

Her faint pink lips were soft and moist like the petals of a freshly bloomed flower kissed by the morning dew and much too near his own. He ached to taste their flavor, yet knew one taste would not suffice. He would want more, much more.

“What do you miss?” he asked.

He watched her eyes settle on him as he ran his tongue over his dry lips, leaving them damp. Her breathing grew labored as her eyes remained on his mouth and there was no doubt to her thoughts.

He leaned in close, afraid to speak and chase her away.

She stared at him, licking her own lips, preparing for a kiss? He hoped so.

He wanted to kiss her. No, he needed to kiss her. When had a kiss become a need? At least a kiss from Aliss.

He moved his hand from beneath her skirt, running it up her leg over her breast and to her neck. He would help her along, let her initiate the kiss, feel comfortable with it.

He stroked her neck. “So soft, such beautiful skin.”

Aliss jumped back as if she had been burned. “That is it.”

“What?” he demanded, annoyed that he had been suddenly robbed of a kiss.

“I know what caused Anna’s rash,” she said, excited. “
Motherwort
. She mentioned that she picked the herb often for the women in the village. Some healers break out in rashes when handling it. That explains the continuity of her skin malady.”

“This is important?”

“Of course,” she said, jumping out of bed and pacing the floor in front of him.

“The rash persisted since Anna continued to gather motherwort.”

“If she had not it would have gone away,” Rogan said with a nod then shook his head. “I still do not understand your excitement.”

“I have discovered the reason for her rash, which allows for a permanent cure.”

“And?”

“It has given me insight into the reason for the illness that has plagued your village.”

That got his attention. “You think you may have discovered the enemy?”

“There is a good chance that your people are digesting something that continues to make them ill. It would explain why some grow healthy only to grow ill all over again”

“You do not know what it is?”

“That will take time, patience, and many questions to determine.”

“I can help,” he offered, and held his hand out to her.

She took it eagerly. “The more help, the more quickly we find the solution.”

He tugged her toward him, but she panicked and backed away.

“Do not be afraid. Come to me, Aliss.”

She jolted, yanked her hand free and ran from the room.