The Highlander's Enchantment Read online

  But her words were cut off when someone hit her hard with something over the head. Her words slurred, and she tasted blood in her mouth as she bit her tongue. Her vision blurred completely, and the sounds from all around dulled into one long hum.

  Blair woke sometime later, her head pounding with pain and her body aching. Her fingers scratched against cold, wet stone. She was in a dank cell that smelled like death. She pushed up on her elbows, trying to rise, and found Raibert on the outside of the cell staring in at her.

  “Ye’re awake,” he said, but his voice was not friendly.

  “Edan?” she asked, wiping her hair from her eyes.

  “Alive for now.”

  “Did they use an antidote?”

  “Why do ye care?” Raibert scoffed.

  Blair stiffened, coming more alert. “What?”

  “Ye poisoned him.”

  He thought her guilty? She shook her head. “Nay, I didna, ye have to believe me.”

  Raibert’s gaze did not waver. “Then who did?”

  She pressed her palms to her temple, squeezing her eyes shut and trying to make her vision steady. “Agnes.”

  “Agnes? The housekeeper?” Raibert clucked his tongue. “What has she got against the laird?”

  “Not against the laird.”

  “Then who?”

  “Me.” Blair knew she wasn’t making sense. Even to her own ears, she sounded guilty.

  “Why would she not poison ye, then?”

  “She wants me to suffer.”

  “I might have believed ye before, after what Willa told me the women were doing to ye.”

  “Aye, that was all true.” She pushed to her knees and tried to stand, but she stumbled back down. Sitting back on her heels, she pressed her hands together in prayer. “Please, Raibert, ye must know I’d never hurt Edan. I love him with all my heart.”

  “And yet this willna have been the first time ye’ve tried to deceive, tried to start a war.”

  “Nay,” she said breathlessly.

  “I know about the missive in the bottle.”

  “That wasna me. A mistake…”

  “Just like this?”

  “Nay, Raibert, please listen.” She licked her lips, her mouth so very dry. “Agnes was a Guinn. The Guinns have a vendetta against my family.”

  “Seems rather farfetched.”

  “Aye, but Willa heard—”

  “Dinna bring my sister into this.”

  Blair pressed her lips together, keeping herself from retorting that he’d been the one to bring her in first. “Agnes was overhead speaking with Lady Mary, who said the Sutherlands had to pay.”

  Raibert let out a long breath and shook his head. “Just tell me why ye did it? My laird is a good man. A great man. And he cared for ye greatly.”

  “Raibert.” She choked on a sob. “I didna hurt him, I swear it. ’Twas Agnes. And if ye dinna stop her, I dinna know who she will hurt next.”

  Raibert was silent for a long time, his gaze steady on her, though he didn’t let any of his emotions show.

  “I will speak with Agnes.”

  “Ye believe me?” she asked desperately.

  He shook his head, sorrow in his eyes. “Nay. But even a small knot of doubt must be unwound.”

  Then he walked away, leaving her in the dark.

  Incredible.

  This had all been so much easier than she thought. In fact, the idiot laird had gone down much faster than she expected. She thought he would need several meals filled with her poison before her special treatment would take. But as it turned out, he wasn’t made of stronger stuff. Well, he’d probably live, since he’d not had the proper dosage. That was all well and good. She’d only done it to place the blame on another. Nay, she was getting ever closer to her true target’s great demise.

  She shivered, excitement thrilling through her limbs.

  And the lady… Oh, but it had almost been sad to watch her shriek and scream. It was obvious from her reaction that she wasn’t guilty. That she really did love their laird. But the people were too caught up in the accusations to see the truth. Sweet Blair could have been halfway across the world, and they’d have still blamed her. That was the way with mobs. One small word shouted over and over was enough.

  She wondered if she could get them to turn on one another? Probably. But it was so much fun to have the finger pointed at Blair.

  What a dumb name that was: Blair. Blah. Ugly and so very masculine. What were her parents thinking, giving her a man’s name?

  Well, she supposed it matched her. She was mannish with her dark looks and overlarge limbs.

  How was it that the laird found her at all appealing? Well, soon it wouldn’t matter, anyway.

  But goodness, she was having a lot of fun inciting everyone to terror. Now they would think they were all safe with Blair locked up in the dungeon. Too bad they had no idea who was really responsible. And it wasn’t as if anyone would listen to the rantings of a prisoner, even if Blair did figure it out. Which she wouldn’t. How could she?

  She sat back on her cot, tipping the jug of whisky she’d pilfered from the cellar into her mouth and smiling at the burn as it went down her throat. Fire. Was that how her victims felt?

  She let out a little laugh. Years from now, they would still never know it was her. For what reason did she have to kill? No one would ever believe that it was simply for the thrill of it. That she liked to watch the life drain out of a body, that she needed their souls in order to survive.

  With another tipple of whisky, she let out a long sigh. She supposed it was time to go help the laird get back on his feet. She couldn’t risk him dying and ruining her plans, for if he were no longer laird, she wouldn’t get to kill Blair. Nay, the rabble would see to it first, and that absolutely could not happen.

  The lady was hers to get rid of.

  Chapter 21

  Edan’s insides felt like they were on fire as he bent over the side of his bed and emptied everything from his body into the chamber pot below. Willa handed him a cloth, and he swiped it over his mouth and tossed himself back against the pillows. Earlier, Agnes had been attending him, but he hadn’t seen her in hours. He was feeling more like himself now. Eyes hazy and voice scratchy, he asked, “Where is my wife? Where is Raibert?”

  Willa shook her head, her face full of sorrow as she broke into tears. She pressed her hands to her face, sobbing as though something awful had happened. Edan’s heart seized.

  Good God, had Blair been poisoned, too?

  “Where,” he demanded, swallowing hard against the throbbing in his throat from bout after bout of vomiting.

  Willa ceased her sobbing for a moment to answer. “She’s below, my laird. And Raibert is questioning Agnes. He thinks she may have been the one to…to…”

  Edan muttered a curse. “Below where?”

  “The dungeon, my laird.”

  “What?” There was enough force behind the word to be a bellow, but it only came out a croak, and he gasped at the pain of it.

  “Aye, they have all gone mad, taking her below as if she were actually responsible, but I told Raibert, I think ’tis Agnes. She has been ever so cruel to my lady, and now this?” Willa started to shake and covered her face again as sobs wracked her.

  “Ye think ’twas Agnes?”

  “Aye. My laird, ye must save Lady Blair afore they get to her. They will kill her.” Willa was balling in earnest now, loud wails, and she swiped her hands furiously over the tears. “Please, my laird.”

  The maid need not have begged, for Edan had already tossed back the covers, thrown his legs over the side of the bed and pressed his feet to the cool floor. He tried to stand but fell back to the bed, his body weakened. “I canna stand.”

  Willa crossed herself and started murmuring a frantic prayer.

  Edan rolled his eyes with annoyance. “I am not going to die. Help me out of bed.”

  Willa looked pained, her gaze darting toward the door. “I’ll go and get someone.” />
  “Willa, now.”

  She nodded, reached for his arm and put it around her shoulders. He was luckily still dressed, though he smelled like death itself. But there was no time to freshen himself, not when his wife was suffering. They made it a few steps before he stumbled to the ground, catching himself with his hands before his face smacked into the wooden planks. Pain ricocheted from his knees and wrists.

  Bloody hell, that hurt!

  “My laird!” Willa screeched.

  At her scream, several guards rushed into the room and lifted him from the ground.

  Gritting his teeth, he demanded, “Take me to my wife.”

  “My laird, she is in the dungeon,” one of the older men argued. “She did this to ye.”

  Despite the pain in his throat, Edan let out a roar. “Nay, she didna, ye bloody fools. And if ye dinna take me to her right now, I’ll kill the lot of ye with my bare hands.”

  The men knew he’d not the strength to make good on his threat, but they allowed him the moment anyway. One of the men lifted Edan’s arm around his shoulder and led him down the several flights of stairs to the castle’s dungeon. Every step was an effort, but he pushed on, imaging his wife’s torment and all of the ways he’d have to make it up to her.

  The stink of the dungeon hit him full force. The air smelled of death and torment, damp and musty. No place for a lady. No place for anyone with a soul as innocent as hers. They rounded the corner at the bottom of the stairs, and the torchlight shone into the cell that the bastards he’d kept prisoner for a month had occupied.

  Blair was on the floor, facing the opposite direction, curled into a ball and shivering.

  “Blair,” he groaned.

  She rolled toward the cell bars and sat up, a gasp on her lips as she spotted him. A bruise marred her face where it looked like someone had hit her. He thought he’d felt rage before, but it was nothing compared to the fury that lanced him at the sight of his wife having been mistreated. Whoever had done that to her was going to pay for it.

  “Open this door,” he demanded to one of the guards, who wasted no time in doing so. His voice was coming out stronger than it had above stairs.

  Edan found his strength to walk and stumbled into the cell. He dropped to his knees beside Blair and tugged her into his arms.

  “Oh, my darling, I am so sorry,” he murmured against her ear. “I’m so sorry.” He choked with emotion, and she wrapped her arms around him.

  “Ye’re alive,” she said, sobbing against him. “Is it really ye?”

  “By the grace of God and Willa. She made me a tisane that helped force the poison from my body. But ye, my love, ye have suffered so much. I’ll never forgive myself for letting harm come to ye.”

  “Dinna worry over me. I am so grateful they were able to save ye.”

  “Guards, take us back upstairs.” He wanted to carry her himself, but considering he could barely lug his own body, it was best if they had help.

  The guards were silent, their faces grave as they carried Edan and Blair back upstairs. Edan insisted they take them both into his wife’s chamber. In the light of the candles and the sun streaming through the windows, of which the coverings had been pulled back to air out the fetid smell, Edan could make out the terror etched into Blair’s face. She stared at the guards, back at him, and back to the guards, fear in her eyes. Lips pinched closed, as though she were afraid to say anything and have them toss her back in the dungeon. Good God, but he couldn’t let her be afraid.

  Lying on the bed side by side, Edan ordered everyone out.

  “But my laird…” Murtagh hedged, his own brow wrinkled with concern.

  “Get. Out.” Edan spoke through gritted teeth, trying hard not to bellow the directive. So help everyone if he had a sword…

  As soon as they were alone, he pulled Blair into his arms. She was stiff and appeared to be holding her breath.

  “Lass, breathe, please. I’ll not let them hurt ye.” He stroked her back, kissed her temple, uncaring of the dirt on her face from the dungeon.

  Slowly, she started to loosen her muscles, but with it came an uncontrollable tremor and sobs that shook her harder, fat tears that wet his shirt.

  “I… I thought ye’d die. They thought I did it. I told them what Willa said about Agnes, but I dinna think they believed me.”

  “They are questioning her now, my love.”

  He tugged her closer, never wanting to let her go, the very idea of how close he’d come to losing her enough to make him wage a war against his own. In the short time he’d known her, Blair had become a part of him. He couldn’t see a future without her. Didn’t want to. He loved her so damn much.

  And he needed her to know that.

  He stroked her hair and whispered against her ear, “I love ye, mo chridhe. I love ye so much. I’ll never let them hurt ye.”

  Rather than smile up at him as he expected, she cried all the harder, her own limbs tangling around his as she clung to him. God, what torments had they put on her while he was too sick to know where she was?

  They fell asleep in each other’s arms, both of them emotionally and physically exhausted. When he woke some hours later, it was to Willa and Raibert gently tapping his shoulders.

  “My laird,” Raibert said. “Willa has brought the two of ye something to eat, and the servants have carried up tubs and hot water for the both of ye to bathe in. Where would ye like us to put them?”

  Edan couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a bath. He usually swam in the loch or sea, or a burn if nothing else was available.

  “None for me.” He couldn’t leave her, even if it was to get clean.

  “But, my laird…” Raibert wrinkled his brow, clearly uncertain how to proceed.

  “Put them both in my chamber then. And leave us to ourselves. I’ll tend to my wife.”

  Neither of them commented, though Willa looked concerned. She’d grown quite fond of Blair, and likely wanted to know for herself that her lady was all right.

  “She’ll be safe with me,” Edan assured the maid.

  Alone once more, he gently woke Blair by kissing her tenderly on the lips. One kiss. Two. And she started to stir. He stroked her face until she blinked open her beautiful eyes. A soft smile played on her lips before it fell as reality returned to her.

  “Edan,” she gasped.

  “My lady love,” he said, smiling. “A bath awaits ye.”

  Her brow wrinkled. “But…”

  “Ye’re safe. I vow it.”

  She pressed her palm to his cheek. “I love ye, Edan. I didna get a chance to tell ye before, and when I thought I’d never see ye again, I regretted not spilling my heart to ye. I love ye so much.”

  He’d not expected the words to puncture into his chest as they did, to make him swell with pride and an ache to consume her, but they did.

  “Never has a man loved a woman more, I’m certain. I’d go to the ends of the earth, fight everyone who stood in my way. I want only to make ye happy. God, I love ye so.” He kissed her again languidly and then gently tugged her from the bed. “Come now, afore the water gets too cold.”

  “Where is the bath?” She glanced about the chamber, her gaze coming back to his in confusion.

  “I had them set them up in my chamber.”

  “Them?”

  “Aye.” He took her hand and led her out of her chamber, through their solar to his own chamber, where two large tubs had been filled with steaming water. Linens lined each. Folded neatly on the bed were more linens for washing, drying and two small balls of soap.

  “We’re to bathe…together in the same chamber?” She raised a brow.

  “Aye. Are ye all right with that? I have already seen ye naked, lass.” He winked, hoping his teasing would take away some of her worry.

  She blushed a pretty pink, her lashes fluttering. “I am not embarrassed.”

  “Then allow me to help ye undress.”

  He disrobed her slowly, kissing her neck, shoulders, trailing h
is fingers up and down her arms, over her spine, not caring at all that smudges of dirt lined her skin. She was his, and he was hers, and he’d love her in any form. He kissed her knees, and when she was finally standing nude before him, he led her to the tub and held her steady as she lowered herself into the steaming water with a sigh of pleasure.

  He went to the table, poured them each a glass of wine and brought her one.

  “Will ye not bathe?” she asked, taking a sip of wine, a sigh on her lips.

  “I intend to.”

  She raised her brows and wiggled them a little, a clear indication she intended to watch him disrobe. Thank the saints, a bit of her good nature was returning after the ordeal.

  Edan felt himself flush and took a long gulp of his wine. Since when had he ever been nervous about being undressed by a lassie’s eyes? The very idea was laughable, and yet here he was.

  He handed her a ball of soap and a linen square to wash with, then faced her as he slowly stripped off his leine shirt and trews—all of which ought to be burned. From having undressed her, and the challenging looks she’d given him, he was hard, rock-hard, and straining for her touch.

  Blair licked her lips, her eyes on that solid appendage. “I think this bath is big enough for two,” she said, her voice coming out a little crackly.

  Edan swallowed the rest of his wine before coming closer to her. “If I get in that bath with ye, there will be more happening than simply washing.” He took hold of his engorged shaft and stroked up the length of it.

  Blair’s eyes widened; her desire clear on her face. “Oh, sweet husband, I count on it.”

  Edan needed no other enticement. He climbed into the tub facing her, their legs entwined. They washed each other, stopping to kiss until they were both breathless, and then washed some more, stroking the soap and cloths tenderly, tauntingly over each other. He kissed her breasts, suckling on her taut pink nipples, and she kissed his chest, sliding her fingers lower into the water to grip his arousal exactly the way he’d done a moment ago.