The Rogue (Castle Blackstone #2)

Chapter 19

A s Angus raced through the great hall’s doorway after Birdi, he heard Lady Beth shout, “What the hell just happened?”

A very good question. He wanted to know as well. One thing was certain. Something had terrified Birdi. He hadn’t heard such keening, seen such horror on a woman’s face since his time in France.

He bounded down the stairs, taking them three at a time, pushed through the open lower door and into the bailey. He saw her; arms out before her, jet curls billowing behind her like huge black wings, as she raced through the raised portcullis. “Birdi! Wait!”

When she didn’t stop but raced on, he cursed and ran after her. Merciful Mother of God, if she doesn’t stop she’ll run right off the end of the quay.

To his horror, just as he set foot on the quay, she did precisely that. She never hesitated; never looked back, just ran straight into the crashing waves.

“ Nooo! ”

He tore off his heavy jerkin as he ran, then dove into the pounding surf after her.

Freezing cold knocked the breath out of him and he kicked to the surface, where he gulped air and spun, searching for her. “Birdi!” Oh, Christ, please, I beg ye, help me find her. He couldn’t see for the tears and brine. “Birdi!” She can’t drown, please don’t let her drown. “BIRDI!”

The waves ebbed and he spotted something dark floating just beneath the green waves to his right. He dove and found her floating like a dark angel; arms extended, eyes closed, black curls resembling silk flotsam as she hovered in her blue gown.

Lungs aching, he grabbed her under the arms and kicked for the sun.

He broke the surface, gasped, and lifted Birdi higher, thrusting her head out of the water, only to panic when it lolled backward. “Ye canna be doing this twice, Birdi. Wake up!” Kicking to stay afloat, he shook her. “I’ll not have it, ye hear!” She coughed then, spewing seawater like a whale. She gasped a few times, coughed again, and opened her eyes. With the next breath she screeched.

“Birdi, ‘tis me.”

“ Nay! ” She fought, arms flailing, teeth bared like those of a cornered she-wolf.

“Birdi, for God’s sake!” He had all he could do to keep them both above the waves surging toward the boulders. Pinning her arms and still kicking frantically to keep afloat, he shouted, “What the hell has ye so frightened?”

Gasping, she yelled, “I willna, I willa be burned. Let me drown!”

“ What? Birdi—” He sucked in more air to them both from perishing. “Listen,” he panted, “no one is going to burn or drown, I promise. I’d never let that happen. I love ye!”

She froze then. Just gaped at him. “Ye love me?”

There it was. He did love Birdi, didn’t want to, didn’t understand the how or why of it, but aye, he did love his Birdi.

Good bye, Donaliegh .

“Aye, Birdi, I love ye, I do.”

“Oh Angus!” She threw her arms about his neck, sinking them both.

God, she felt good as her tongue sought his, cold and frightened as she was. Cold and exhausted as he was, for that matter. But they’d best continue this on dry land.

He kicked, surfaced and, keeping a tight hold on her, made for the quay. Hearing shouts, he looked up and found Duncan and Ian reaching for them. Dozens of clansmen stood at their backs.

Duncan, having the longest arms, caught Birdi and heaved her up and onto the quay. Ian grabbed Angus’s shoulders and roughly hauled him up and over the boulders. On solid ground again, anxious to get to Birdi, he bellowed, “Out of my way!”

Angus found her in Beth’s arms, Duncan’s cloak wrapped about her, her pale skin nearly blue. Begging Beth’s pardon, he scooped her into his arms. “Are ye all right?” The woman would be the death of him.

Teeth clicking like a squirrel’s, she whispered, “I’m sorry, but I thought— Aaaaaahhh! ”

Her magnificent ice-blue eyes bulged like a frog’s as she continued to screech and point to those surging toward them.

“What? What has ye fashing now?”“

Birdi clawed at Angus’s chest. “Get him away!”

He raked the crowd, looking for a Macarthur, a Gunn, someone or something that wasn’t right. “Who? What?”

She gasped, “The priest!”

Not understanding but willing to do anything so long as she stopped keening, he shouted, “Remove Fat John. Now!”

To his left Duncan ordered, “Ian, take Father John back to the keep.” Ian, scowling, grabbed the rotund priest’s arm.

The priest sputtered and fumed as Ian, saying something about mead, dragged him away.

Lady Beth heaved a sigh. Knowing Ian, she had little doubt she’d find their gluttonous priest out cold in some storage room within a few hours.

But she had more pressing problems at the moment and caught Kari’s eye. “Mistress Kari, please run ahead and stoke the fires in Angus’s room.” As the woman took off at a run Beth yelled, “And ready a bath!”

She took Duncan’s arm and followed Angus and his lady into the keep. In a whisper, Beth asked, “Do you know why she fears him so?”

Duncan leaned toward her to avoid being overheard. “If Angus is tale is true—and I’ve nay reason to doubt him—Birdi has every reason to fear Father John. She’s nay doubt heard tales of cumberendra.”

“Of what?”

“Church-ordered burnings at the stake. Witches usually, but heretics, as well. Birdi is a cailleach, a pagan healer and according to Angus, an extraordinary one.”

“You’re not serious?”

He nodded and slowed, letting those who traveled behind them pass. When the last had done so, he whispered, “I’ve wished to rid myself of Fat John for years. More so now than ever. If he remains, Angus will take his leave, and that I’ll not have.” He huffed. “My problem now lies in getting Fat John to leave of his own accord. I canna boot him out, as much as I’d like. The bishop would be here thrice, threatening excommunication and raising tithes.”

“I see.” Beth had wanted to rid herself of the priest since arriving at Blackstone. The man—intent on converting her—was still harassing her, but not until today did she realize her husband wanted him gone as much as she did. Splendid!

She patted Duncan’s arm. “Just leave it to me.”

#

His hands full, Angus shouldered open the guest quarter’s door and found Birdi up to her neck in warm water.

She peeked over the rim of Beth’s huge tub. “Is he still down there?”

Angus shook his head, dropped the flagon of hot mead and the tankards on the fireside table, and then knelt beside her. He reached for the fragrant rose soap bobbing on the water, a gift from Beth. “He’s locked in the west wing. Ian will keep him there.”

“All right, but so long as he’s about I have to stay here.”

His poor wee Birdi. He lathered the soap in his hands and murmured, “Sit up.”

When she did, knees bent and clutched to her chest, he eased the bubbles across the lace scars on her back. “Now, why didn’t ye tell me ye feared priests? I’d have kept him from ye.”

She hunched her shoulders. “I thought…I feared…I didna ken if—”

“…if I was in league with the priest?”

Turning scarlet, she nodded. “Aye, but then I didna ken that ye loved me. I was sure ye loved Mary and I—”

“Whoa. Who is Mary?”

“Hale Mary, the one ye whisper to each night and when ye’re most upset. Ye ken. The one with honey hair and beehive breasts.”

Oh my God . She’d heard him praying and had assumed…He couldn’t help it. He started laughing.

Looking indignant, she slapped his arm. “What, may I ask, do ye find so humorous?”

Angus wiped the tears from his cheeks with the backs of his soapy hands. “Love, do ye remember the tale of the Blessed Virgin and the Immaculate Conception?”

Birdi narrowed her eyes at him. “How could I not? Ye kept me up half the night making sure I would.”

Because she looked so splendidly indignant, because it felt so good to be home, because she loved him and he loved her, because he’d lost Donaliegh and his chiefship and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it but laugh, he laughed again, this time until it hurt.

Birdi, apparently deciding he’d lost his mind, huffed and sank beneath the bubbles.

She ran out of air about the same time he caught his breath. He reached for her and pulled her into his arms. “Birdi, I do love ye so.”

“Good, because I do too, though why I should when ye jest at my expense and—”

He silenced her rebuke with his lips. She sighed and opened her mouth to him, her arms encircling his neck. He dove heart-first into Birdi’s sweet moist richness.

As her tongue made a tentative exploration across his, he rose, hauling her out of the water, and pressed her to him. His hands slid up her spine, memorizing every detail of the warm, slick flesh, then slid down and lingered on her fine hurdies, enjoying their firmness. Wanting more, needing her to understand his need, he grasped her deliciously round bottom and pressed her hips into his swollen groin. She growled deep in her throat and raised a leg, wrapping it around his. Ah, she wanted him as he did her. No question.

The room was warm, but not anywhere near as warm as the blood surging through his limbs. He wanted her, all of her, and now there wasn’t a reason on earth why he shouldn’t consummate their union.

He carried her to the wide, four-poster canopied bed. She mewed and reached for him as he pulled away.

“Patience.” He ripped the clothes from his body and dropped down beside her. Heart racing, he drew her to his chest. As his lips slid down the smooth flesh of her neck, seeking the ultimate prize, the nipples of her well-formed breasts, he whispered, “Ye’ll now be mine in truth, Lady MacDougall.”

“How so?”

He didn’t bother to answer. She’d find out soon enough.