Timeless Passion: 10 Historical Romances To Savor (182 page)

“You can, love, perhaps with a little help.”

His enigmatic reply confused her.

“What help?”

His eyes never left hers for an instant as he reached inside his white linen shirt and pulled out a folded sheet of parchment. He held it between two fingers and offered it to her.

Curious, she unfolded the square and gasped. Eyes wide with amazement, she whispered, “How did you know to choose this one?”

Aeden’s smile was rueful. “I enlisted the aid of Father Pollock’s scribe skills.”

Elisande couldn’t help to chuckle. “He must have thought you’d gone daft. I’m surprised he deigned to touch the book.”

He gave her an arch look. “I convinced him it was in his best interest to help me if he ever wanted to taste Tam’s
uisge beatha
again.”

She lowered her gaze and studied the well-worn piece of parchment.

“I hope you’re no’ angry I ripped this from your tome.”

Catching his eye, she stared at him one long moment, and then shook her head. “You don’t believe in these charms.”

His smile was tender, compassionate. “’Tis true, but you do, lass.”

“Not anymore. At least I … ” confused she trailed off and hung her head.

He slid his fingers under her chin and tilted it up. “Lass, you’ve spent your entire life believing in that book. Who’s to say it doesn’t work? And if it gives you a measure of comfort and security to help you heal, then use it.”

A soft cry escaped her lips and she threw her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his in a devouring kiss. Crushing her to him he returned her passion tenfold. At last they drew apart. Lifting his hand, he skimmed it over her collarbone and cupped the back of her neck. He guided her close and rested his forehead on hers.

“You can do this, lass.”

The parchment fluttered to the ground. She closed her eyes, opened her senses and raised her arms to the sky.

“Heaven above, I call to thee, to heal this ache inside of me. Fill me with your loving light, and keep me always in your sight. With these words I pray to thee on the sum of one, two, three.”

The sun’s rays penetrated her skin warming her from the inside out. As she opened her eyes and lowered her arms, she heard Aeden’s sharp intake of breath. She pivoted and faced him.

“What is it?”

Aeden came up behind her and drew her to his chest. “The water. Do you see it?”

A spectrum of color danced atop the water’s surface. Blues, reds, purples, pinks, and greens sparkled like precious gems showered with radiant light. She stared in wonder at the spectacle, but as quick as it began, it was gone. Now, left with the glorious sun and the water’s gentle lapping at the shore nothing about this day resembled the violence of that horrendous night. She inhaled a cleansing breath, finally at peace. She lifted her chin into the breeze as the whisper of pine scented the air around her. With the unwavering strength of her husband’s arms around her, she was whole again. Greedy for him, she leaned into the comfort of his embrace and luxuriated in the sensation of his breath tickling her ear.

“Do you know how proud of you I am, love?” Pressing a kiss against her temple, he laid his cheek atop her head.

In a half turn, she drank in his well-defined profile.

He regarded her with a side glance.

“Thank you, husband.”

His eyes darkened with unspoken emotion. “What for, wife?”

“For believing in me, protecting me, and lending me your strength. But, most of all, thank you for loving me.”

His eyes bathed her in admiration. “Ah, lass, that’s the easy part.”

Elisande wound her arms around Aeden’s neck, her lips meeting his in a ravenous, devouring kiss that went on and on. Breaking away, he nibbled kisses up and down her jaw line ending on a pulse that throbbed wildly at the base of her throat. He swirled his tongue over and around the frantic beat. Pulling back slightly, his all-encompassing sweep took in her flushed cheeks and his hand moved up to brush her heavy mass of hair over her shoulder.

“I never thought I could ever feel this way,” she confessed jubilant.

An indulgent glint appeared in his desire filled eyes. “What way is that,
mo chroi
, my heart?”

“Utterly, irrevocably, and completely in love,” she whispered.

She reveled in the heat of his captivating, arresting gaze. His eyes alone betrayed the depth of his ardor. Comforted by the knowledge of his barely leashed passion she savored their growing desire.

Without breaking eye contact he set her away from him long enough to remove his boots. With a mischievous grin, he scooped her into his arms. Her smile widened at his unexpected action, eliciting a shriek when he waded into the loch, and stopped only when the water marked his upper thighs. He gently tossed her in his arms forcing her to cling tighter to his shoulders. Using the opportunity to his advantage, he bestowed a quick kiss to the tip of her lightly freckled nose.

Arching a brow at his mischievous smile, she lost her grin when he raised her in his arms and pretended to dunk her. His intentions obvious, she sucked in her breath on an incredulous laugh.

“Aeden Maxwell, you would not dare!”

He feigned an introspective expression and then declared, “I’ve got you where I want you, lass.” He waggled his eyebrows.

“What if I grant you a boon?”

“Are you attempting to soften my resolve with your feminine wiles, lass?”

Cupping her hand to his scarred cheek she leaned in, whispered, “Why yes, husband, I believe I am,” and kissed him.

She pulled back, and witnessed his look of naked longing so powerful, that it seared itself across her heart. The kiss he returned made her knees weak. Hastily, he made for the sandy beach. Setting her smoothly on her feet, he then began to methodically peel off his clothes until he stood in all his tanned, naked magnificence. He advanced on her and hooked a finger in her leather belt, gave it a slight tug to pull her off balance. Forced to splay her hands against his chest for support, she urged him to undress her.

“Come.”

Taking her hand he led her back into the loch. The contrast of cool water on warm skin puckered her nipples. His otherworldly eyes slid over her as they sluiced water over each other.

“What has you smiling, love?”

She blushed.

He arched a brow. “Hmm, now I am intrigued.”

“I cannot help to think that the years I spent stuffing my mattress with cloves wishing for true love actually worked.”

He laughed. “I’ve come to learn that anything is possible if you believe.”

She pursed her lips. “Precisely.”

“Tell me the charm.”

“You are truly interested?” she asked suspicious.

He fit her hips to his. “Everything about you interests me.”

At his encouraging nod, she recited the prayer.

“A clove in thy bed shall bring a true love to wed. A clove in the eaves assures he won’t leave.”

Laugh line fanned out at the corners of his eyes.

She shook her head. “Go on. I know you have something to say.”

“Well, ’tis a bit mad, lass.”

A sheet of cold water removed the grin from his face and sent her into peals of laughter. Wiping his hands over his wet face, he cut a swathe through the water like a heated knife through goose fat and reached her side in an instant. The devilish smile alight on his lips forced an unlikely squeal from her before she wheeled around to head for shore. She gasped when muscled arms caught her about the waist, hauling her backwards. He whirled her around to face him, picked her up, and she wrapped her legs around him, suggestively rotating her hips against him. Immediately, his erection sprung to life and molded along the furrow between her thighs.

Breathless, she teased, “What game shall we play now, husband?”

Without a reply, he carried her to the beach, swiped up his plaid and continued on to a secluded copse sheltered by leafy branches and bushes. He set her on her feet and spread his plaid atop the spongy moss-laden ground and guided her onto the blanket. Side by side, they reclined, gazing into one another’s eyes. Unhurried, she let her deft hand to glide down his hard, flat belly, and lightly traced her fingers over the thin line of dark hair until she gripped his rigid erection. He sucked in his breath, and his stomach muscles contracted telling her without words how much he enjoyed her touch.

Mesmerized, she brushed a forefinger across the tip of his shaft in time to catch the pearl of semen. Watching him, she raised her finger to her mouth and tasted him. She stared into his fiercely aroused gaze just as he swooped down to capture her lips. There was nothing tender in what he gave. It was raw and primal filled with sensuality.

• • •

Although the afternoon shadows grew longer, they made no effort to move from one another’s embrace.

She stretched under the fading sun. “I feel so decadent.”

Aeden smiled and ran his calloused hands over her belly. “You could tempt the bees from the sweetest flower, lass.”

Sitting up and a little away, she admired Aeden’s bronzed masculine form, peeking at him from under thick lashes. “I did wonder how you happened to be browned everywhere,” she teased.

Winking, he quipped, “Do no’ go revealing my secret now.”

She stiffened. With the one word, she was transported back to the day in which she learned the disturbing truth about Addis’s parentage.

He ran his hands over her arms.

“You’re trembling love, what’s troubling you?”

The weight of that terrible secret lay heavy on her conscience. She bit her lip until it throbbed like a pulse.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Addis surrendered almost every detail to the Englishman, almost. He omitted a few facts to guarantee his life. The only tangible items he gained for his negotiating efforts were a cracked rib, two broken fingers, and a busted nose.

“You will take me to the Maxwell holding, unless you prefer death, or worse.”

What could possibly be worse than death was a question he wasn’t eager to pursue. He didn’t bother to inform the Englishman of Elisande’s possible death. He was certain he heard one of Aeden’s men shout that she lived. He sneered. The man was a lack-wit to believe he would take Elisande only to give her up. When he was through with her, death would be a tender mercy.

• • •

Aeden prowled the room like a caged beast, his hands clasped tightly behind his back, and his thoughts weighed down with bitter resentment.

“Son.”

He disregarded Tam’s entreaty with a hard expression and continued to pace.

“Da had the power to end Addis’s claim to the title and yet he allowed my bro …
Addis’s
discontent and perceived slights to fester for years.”

He stopped midstream and whirled on Tam. “And
you
,” his muted voice exuded an undertone of cold contempt, “you kept the knowledge of his true lineage from me long after it was necessary. To what purpose? Give me a worthy enough reason why I was kept ignorant of the facts?”

Unable to bear his unrest, Elisande left her chair by the hearth, captured Aeden’s hand and entwined their fingers. She willed him some of her calm to take the edge off of his fury. Though his lips were thinned, he brought her hand up and kissed her knuckles — acknowledgment he prized her loyalty.

Convinced the worst of his ire had spent itself, she gave his hand a squeeze and resumed a seat nearest him.

“Maeri didn’t want to create a rift between the two of you,” Tam explained.

Aeden’s lip curled and he snorted in disgust.

“You need to understand. Your ma and da raised Addis from the time he was two, as their son. They had hopes he could overcome the taint of his parentage.”

Weary, Aeden scrubbed a hand down his face.

“Christ on the cross. The both of them were daily observers to our less-than-brotherly bond, and, I would wager that on the day he carved my face, any doubts we weren’t getting along should have been obvious to a blind man.”

Tam nodded his agreement. He cleared his throat. “There’s more.”

Aeden leveled a shrewd look in Tam’s direction. “Does it have anything to do with the knife taken out of my back?”

Onora gasped. “How did you know?”

“I had my suspicions all along.”

“What made you suspect him?” demanded Tam.

Aeden shrugged. “He said it often enough, and after his first attempt when I was five and ten, I figured he’d try it again someday. Once the title was beyond his grasp, it was only a matter of time. As it stands, I am gratified to know he was never a blood brother to me. It will only make matters easier.”

“And what matter might be made easier by this knowledge?” Onora probed.

Aeden fondled the hilt of his sword and replied, “The matter of killing him.”

• • •

“I am very happy for you, aunt.”

The afternoon sun shone through the open windows, bathing the older couple in its soft glow as the congregation erupted in applause. Onora and Tam acknowledged the cheers with faces wreathed in smiles.

Her fingers cold, she grabbed Elisande’s hands in a formidable grip. “Do you believe the man has loved me all this time?”

Elisande’s lips kicked up at the corners. She found the girlish quality of her aunt’s speech endearing.

“Who that knows you, could not help but to love you, aunt?”

Tam leaned in. “Aye, aye, ’tis a true enough fact, I ken, and ’tis to my great fortune your aunt returns the sentiment.”

Although her uncle regarded Aeden, he directed the comment to Elisande.

“Me nephew saunters around Caeverlark sporting a perpetual smile, and I am that worried about him. What have you done to the boy? The servants have reported that no oat bags are swinging in your chamber window, so, it must be your charms alone that keep such a grin on his face.”

She laughed. “Uncle, you are unmerciful in your teasing.”

“Happily, my niece has a sense of humor that allows for the clan to join in the good-natured jesting,” Onora interjected.

“Aye, ’tis true. I’ve never seen such jocularity afore. Makes me long for the days when everyone walked around in stoic silence.”