Scanning the faces, she turned to an elderly gentleman who was standing off to one side, as though embarrassed to be part of this crowd. Before she could stop herself, her heart went out to him. “You, sir, are suffering from a very painful throat.”
After recovering from his surprise he nodded. “I am. And it’s most vexing.”
“Make a tea of thyme. It will soothe and heal your throat. On the morrow you’ll feel much better.”
He gave her a smile. “I thank you, my lady.” She returned the smile. “You’re most welcome, sir.”
“Can you cure my headache?” A plump, balding man stepped forward, leaning on a walking stick.
His wife stepped up beside him, glaring. “How can this woman do what no one else can?” She turned to Allegra. “He’s suffered from them for a lifetime. They seem to be getting worse these past few years.”
Allegra touched her fingertips to his forehead and frowned. “Aye. You’re suffering now.”
The old man nodded, while beside him his wife caught his arm, hoping to draw him away.
Allegra closed her eyes and let herself go into his pain. Minutes later she stepped back, visibly drained.
He turned to his wife. “Why, the pain is gone. In the blink of an eye it disappeared.”
The older woman touched his arm. “Did it? Truly?”
“Aye.” He turned back to Allegra and caught her hand in his, lifting it to his lips. “Bless you, my lady. For the first time in years my pain is gone.”
Though his wife was reluctant to touch a witch, she managed a slight bow of her head. “I thank you.”
A murmur rippled through the crowd in the great hall, sending them pushing and shoving to get close to the lord’s table.
“What about me?” One of the village gossips bullied her way to the front of the crowd, elbowing several aged and infirm members out of the way.
“We have not met.” Allegra studied the matron poured into a gown of pink silk, waist nipped, bosom heaving, looking for all the world like an oversize pink sausage. “I am called Allegra Drummond.”
“I am Lissa MacDermott.” The woman, who was breathing hard and dabbing at her brow with a lace handkerchief, smiled at the others, clearly relishing the chance to be the center of attention.
“Where is your pain?” Allegra asked.
“Here.” The woman touched a hand to her chest, enjoying the way the men gaped. “With each step I take, I can hardly breathe.”
Allegra caught the woman’s hands in hers and stared deeply into her eyes. “Do you truly wish to be cured?”
Lissa gave a smile of triumph to her friends before turning her attention to Allegra. “I do.”
“Then you must do exactly as I say. When you go home tonight, you must remove the corset that binds you, and let out the seams of your gowns. I assure you, you will never again have trouble breathing.”
At her words the crowd began roaring with laughter.
“Oh! You evil, horrid witch.” Hearing the laughter, the horrified woman pushed her way past her neighbors and fled the great hall, with her husband running to catch up with her.
Merrick wiped a tear of laughter from his eyes as he whispered to Allegra, “I was wrong to worry about you. I should have known you would not tolerate fools.”
Allegra merely gazed out over the crowd, wondering if any others would dare to test her.
Seeing Hamish stifle a yawn, Merrick put an arm around the boy. “You grow weary, my son?”
“Aye, Father.”
“Then I’ll fetch Mistress MacDonald. She can take you off to your bed.”
Allegra seized the opportunity to escape. “Your housekeeper is too busy for that, my lord. She has your guests to look after. If you have no objection, I’d be happy to take Hamish to his room and stay with him until he’s asleep.”
His tone sharpened. “There will be no more potions?”
“None tonight. Though I’ll not promise beyond that.”
He gave her a long, thoughtful look before nodding. “Very well. You may see to the lad.”
He kissed his son and watched as Hamish put his small hand in Allegra’s. As the woman and boy made their way from the great hall, heads craned and, as before, a ripple of excitement raced through the crowd.
Mordred watched until the woman and boy exited the room. Then he turned to his cousin. “You’d best beware. The lad seems to be growing fond of the healer.”
“And what’s wrong with that, cousin?”
“You know nothing about her. You’d be wise not to trust those potions she gives him.”
“I’ll keep a close eye, Mordred.”
Desmond leaned closer, his voice trembling with unease. “What have you learned about her, Merrick?”
“Other than the fact that she knows how to entertain a crowd?” Mordred gave a short laugh.
Merrick’s eyes darkened with anger. “That was unwise of you, cousin. I did not bring the healer here to be played a fool.”
“I meant no harm.” Mordred and his brother exchanged a look. “Desmond fears and mistrusts the witch. To put his mind at ease, tell us what you’ve learned about her, cousin.”
“Little enough.” Merrick stared down into his ale, his tone rough with impatience. “Though she is either the most innocent maiden in all of Scotland, or the most clever of all witches.”
They fell silent as the village minstrel stepped into the center of the room and began to play his lute.
The crowd listened attentively while he sang of great battles, brave warriors and love-struck maidens. Though Merrick usually enjoyed such entertainment, this night he found himself distracted by thoughts of the healer. She’d seen his son’s weariness as the perfect excuse to remove herself from this pack of curious onlookers. But the truth was, the minute she left the great hall, the magic of the night had gone flat.
In just this short time he’d begun looking forward to being near her. Hearing her voice, and the musical trill of her laughter.
It wasn’t only his son who’d grown fond of the healer.
That knowledge brought him no pleasure. In fact, it shamed him to admit that he was falling willingly under the spell of a woman he knew to be a witch.
Chapter Nine
“Will you tell me a story, Allegra?” Hamish lay, warm and cozy, in a nest of fur.
“Aye. What would you like to hear?”
“Tell me about your home.”
She drew the shawl around her shoulders and settled herself beside his pallet, taking his hands in hers. “I live in a place called the Mystical Kingdom. It’s a grand place, with soft, gentle weather and colors so vivid, they dazzle the eye. The grass is lush and green, and the flowers grow as tall as a man.”
“Who lives there with you?”
“My mother, my grandmother and my two sisters, Kylia and Gwenellen, as well as a sweet old woman named Bessie and a troll named Jeremy.”
“A troll? What does he look like?”
Allegra smiled at the boy’s sudden interest. “He’s no bigger than you, with fierce black eyes and long dark hair that must be trimmed often so he won’t trip over it.”
That had Hamish giggling. “What else?”
“He wears a frock coat and top hat that my mother made him. And though he may be frightening to some, he has a child’s pure heart and a kind and generous spirit.”
Hamish took a moment to digest that before asking, “Have you no father?”
She shook her head. “He died when we were just babes.”
“How did he die?”
“He died defending my mother.”
“Someone wanted her dead?”
“Aye.”
“Why? Was she evil?”
“Nay. But they thought she was evil. There is a difference, Hamish. There are those who are truly evil, and there are those who are believed evil because they travel a different path in life. My mother, like her mother before her, has gifts that make some people afraid of her.”
“What
sort of gifts?”
“She has knowledge of healing plants and herbs. She has the power to calm the wind, and ruffle the waters of the loch. And when I or one of my sisters is in peril, she feels it.”
“Do you have those powers, too, Allegra?”
“I have some of those powers. As do my sisters.”
“And do people fear you?”
“Some do.”
“Would they try to kill you?”
“They might.”
His voice grew sad. “My mother is dead.”
“Aye. So I’ve heard.”
“She wasn’t evil, Allegra. Why did she have to die?”
“We all must die, Hamish.”
“Do you think she had any gifts?”
“I’m sure of it.”
“I never saw her calm the wind or ruffle the waters.” His little face became animated at the thought. “What sort of gifts do you think she had?”
“My mother told me that the greatest gift of all is love.”
At once he nodded. “My mother loved me.”
“You see? That’s a fine gift she gave you. And one you can pass on.”
“I can? How?”
“By loving as openly, as generously as your mother loved you.”
He thought about it a moment before saying softly, “I love my father.”
“You see? You’re already passing on your mother’s gift to others.”
The thought of it had him smiling. “Will I love others the way I love my father and mother?”
She patted his hand. “Perhaps you will some day.”
“Do you love anyone, Allegra?”
She nodded. “My grandmother, my mother and my sisters.”
“Have you no husband or children?”
“Nay.”
He imitated her, patting her hand gently. “Perhaps you will someday.”
“Oh, Hamish.” She bent and kissed him. “You are the dearest lad. Now...” She smoothed the blankets and sat back. “Close your eyes and I’ll stay right here beside you until you’re asleep.”
“Will you sing to me?”
“If you’d like.” She began to croon a lullaby that her mother had often sung. Her soft, musical voice washed over him, soothing away the last of his fears.
In scant minutes his breathing had gone soft and easy as he fell into a deep sleep.
Allegra got to her feet. Smoothing down her skirts, she turned and gave a gasp of surprise at the darkened shadow in the doorway.
“My lord.” She clapped a hand to her mouth. How long, she wondered, had he been standing there watching and listening? Why hadn’t she sensed his presence there?
As she started around him he stopped her with a hand on her arm. His voice was deep with feeling. “It was never my wish to publicly humiliate you, or to parade you in front of the villagers for sport.” She tossed her head. “If you say so.”
“I do. On my word as lord. I wanted you there tonight for the lad’s sake.” And for mine. The thought taunted him.
“Very well. I believe you.” Again she started past him.
Again he stopped her with a touch. Only a touch, but he could feel the heat bum a path of fire that went straight to his loins.
He stepped back, his eyes fierce. “What am I to do about you, Allegra?’ ’
“Do, my lord?” She stood very still, wondering at the odd sensations swirling inside her at the touch from him.
“If you were a mere woman, I could trust my feelings. But you’re a...” He saw her lips tighten, and swallowed back the hateful word. “Forgive me, my lady.” He made a slight bow and stepped out of her way. “I’m keeping you from your sleep.” She lifted her head in that infuriating manner and swept past him like a queen. He’d thought he could let her walk away. And he would have, if his temper hadn’t taken over his common sense.
Just as she reached the doorway of her chambers he caught her by the shoulders and turned her to face him.
His face was contorted with barely controlled rage. “Have you cast a spell over me?”
“A spell?” Her eyes went wide. “What are you saying?”
“I believe you’ve bewitched me. It’s the only explanation for what’s happened to my mind.”
She shook off his hand. “What’s in your mind is your business, my lord.”
“Is it? Is that what you think? I’m not so certain of it anymore.” He took a menacing step closer and she backed up into the room until she could feel the wall at her back. “Since Catherine there’s been no woman whose name I could even recall for more than a night. And yet I left my guests below stairs because I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Why, Allegra?”
The look in his eyes was frightening to behold. Because she had backed up as far as she could, she lifted her chin in a show of bravado. “Why do you ask me? Surely you don’t believe that I can control your behavior.”
“If only I could believe that.” His hand snaked out, snagging her wrist. That was his first mistake. Now that he was touching her, he couldn’t seem to stop. He brought his other hand to her shoulders, but instead of keeping her at arm’s length, he drew her fractionally closer, his eyes burning into hers. “I must taste your lips again, Allegra.”
“Nay.” She tried to draw back, but she was no match for his strength. In one fluid movement he dragged her against him, nearly lifting her off her feet as he covered her mouth with his.
There was temper in the kiss. Hers as well as his. As heated, as potent as a blow from an enemy’s sword. He reveled in it, allowing it to fuel the mix of passions that had been seething for so long now He felt the heat pour into him, adding to the flames. At the roar of blood in his temples he lifted his head, unable to believe what he’d just experienced. His head was still spinning. His body vibrated with need. How could one little female cause such feelings?
Allegra went very still, struggling to calm her ragged breath. How could she possibly fight this man's magic? With just one touch he could melt her bones. With but a kiss he could turn her blood to fire. He had the power to steal her will so that it was impossible to resist him.
But resist him she must.
She tossed her head. “You’ve no right to take such liberties. You’ll leave my chambers at once.'
Instead of a reply he dragged her into his arms once more, determined to silence her protest. Bu: this time, when his mouth covered hers, the hands at her shoulders gentled, as did his kiss.
Once again he tasted the sweetness, and was drawn to it until he was drinking his fill. He lingered over her lips, drawing out the kiss until she sighed and, without realizing it, wrapped her arms around his waist and clung.
Was the room turning in lazy circles, or was it her brain? Had the floor dipped and tilted beneath her feet, or was it her body vibrating? She neither knew nor cared. All that mattered was this man, this kiss, this absolutely amazing moment.
If he'd continued to treat her with arrogance, with temper. she could have fought it. But this tender side of him left her helpless. It was all she could do to keep from moaning with the pure pleasure of his kisses.
He felt the change in her and thrilled to it. Despite her innocence, he could taste the awakening of desire He could feel the heat growing around her, inside her, drawing him in.
He changed the angle of the kiss and took it deeper. Then he caught her arms and lifted them to encircle his neck. When he brought his hands down her arms, along her sides, his thumbs encountered the swell of her breasts.
At her quick little intake of breath he soothed her with soft gentle touches along her back, all the while feasting on her lips, until once more she relaxed and him to touch her at will.
She was such a delight. Hesitant, yet bold. An innocent seductress. A witch who seemed completely unaware of the power she held over him.
Right now that power was leading him down a dangerous path. The rush of desire caught him by surprise. The need to take her had the blood curling hotly through his veins. A wise man would end this now
, before they both crossed a line. But how could he be wise with this woman in his arms? How could he think, when the taste of her had him drunk with desire?
He lingered over the kiss a moment longer, then, gathering his strength, lifted his head, breaking contact.
He heard her quiet sigh of frustration and was warmed by it. Perhaps he hadn’t been the only one lost in the moment.
He took a step back. “I’ll leave you now as you ordered, my lady, and return to my guests below stairs.”
He turned and walked to the staircase. His hand on the banister, he noted, was still vibrating from the touch of her.
Allegra closed the door to her chambers and leaned against it, waiting for the weakness to pass. Then she made her way on trembling legs to the chaise drawn before the fireplace, where she sank down gratefully.
Each time Merrick touched her, kissed her, his magic grew stronger and hers grew weaker. She had no defense against it. And what shamed her even more, she didn’t care.
She closed her eyes and laid her head back, lost in thought. If Merrick hadn’t found the strength to walk away, she would have allowed him to stay, to take whatever liberties pleased him. For there were forces here beyond her control. He was the one with the power. And she was helpless against it.
In the darkened hallway a shadowy figure paused outside Allegra’s chambers. It was as feared. Merrick MacAndrew was drawn to the witch.
Another complication.
The wife had been a simple enough matter. She’d been weak and fanciful. The son was no better. A lad that we would soon have been disposed of. But this woman had power and magic on her side. Potent strengths.
Still, if the healer were to be found dead in the lord’s own castle, perhaps in his bed, would there be anyone left to believe his protestations of innocence?