Chapter Ten #2
Lara did not think she’d made a noise, but he turned his head and met her gaze.
He pushed the hair out of his eyes and stared back at her.
’Twas then that she noticed the change. That part that he had filled her with, that had just now been at rest, grew hard and larger.
Unable to look away, she nearly stopped breathing as he lifted one of his hands and touched…
it, stroking it to an even greater size.
“Should I accompany you, then?” Margaret asked, but Lara was unable to respond.
Heat pooled between her legs and her breasts tingled as she watched him smile knowingly at her.
Then Malcolm’s boyish voice called to him from farther down the shore and, without hesitating, he turned back to the water and dived under it.
“My lady? You look peaked,” Margaret said, reaching her side—thankfully, after Sebastien had submerged. “It could be a fever. Let me feel your cheek.” Her maid reached out and touched the back of her hand to Lara’s indeed hot cheek.
“’Tis no fever, Margaret. Let me be.” It was a kind of fever, but not one she wished to discuss with her maid and the others present behind her. Especially after her comments about such attraction. She waved off the attention. “I just need some air.”
How could she ever face him now? She’d watched him and he knew it. But how could she not go as promised?
“Lara!” The shout came from outside. She dared not look.
Margaret glanced out and then waved. “My lady. ’Tis your brother and Lord Sebastien. They’re calling for you.”
Tucking her hair back inside the snood that covered it, Lara took a breath and walked to the door.
She made her way down the stairs, through the hall and out through the yard.
The guards nodded as she walked through the gate and across the drawbridge.
Malcolm ran up to her and tugged on her hand, hurrying her along.
In a few moments, they reached the new dock and Sebastien.
He wore trews now, but no tunic, and his hair hung down to his shoulders, still dripping water onto his chest and the ground around him. She knew her face was flame-red, but she answered his greeting in kind and looked everywhere except at his face.
“My lady! I am gladdened that you could join us.”
Hearing the smile in his voice, she was tempted to glance at him. She fought the urge, one more in a line of provocative urges brought on by the sight or sound or nearness of him.
“Malcolm tells me you have a secret to share with me,” she murmured.
Her brother was now back on the shore, calling out to Philippe to hurry. Lara watched his boyish glee and smiled.
“There are many secrets I could share with you, Lara,” Sebastien said, in a voice so deep and warm it transformed her insides to liquid. Just as she began to turn to him, Malcolm raced by her, out onto the dock and then into the water.
The water?
Sweet Jesus! Malcolm could not swim.
To her horror, his running start projected his small body far out over the surface of the firth before he went under. There was no sign of him for what felt like hours, and without waiting, she ran to the edge and threw herself in after him.
The cold water shocked her and she felt it claw at her gown and tunic. She turned around and around, looking for some sign of her brother. Stretching down, Lara searched the bottom beneath her feet.
She touched nothing. Then the weight of her saturated clothing began to drag her down. Gasping and flailing her arms, she screamed as she remembered that she could not swim, either. All she could think of as she sank into the murky waters was one name.
“Sebastien!” she cried out, and then there was nothing but black.
Watching in disbelief, Sebastien could only wonder how people living so close to the sea did not know how to swim in it.
He’d spent days teaching Malcolm to float and hold his breath and then how to take strokes to move himself through the water.
Lara could climb, she could ride, she could fish, so how was it that she could not swim?
Malcolm’s head came out of the water just as Lara sank into it, so Sebastien dived back into the firth to get to her.
Luckily, ’twas in between the tides, so the water was calm.
Deep but calm. Waving the boy off, Sebastien took a breath and aimed at the spot where Lara had sunk from view.
He could only see a few feet in front of him, so he reached out, trying to grab her gown as it fluttered down to the bottom.
Pulling the heavy garment, he finally got hold of her and encircled her waist with his arm.
With powerful kicks, he brought them both to the surface, then dragged her back to the shore.
Margaret’s screaming brought soldiers running to his aid.
In a very short time, with Malcolm at his side, he carried Lara from the water and laid her on the edge of the beach.
Silence held all in its grip as they waited for her to take a breath.
And waited. Just when he reached out to shake her, she convulsed, taking in a huge amount of air and forcing out a similar amount of water.
Sebastien rolled her to her side and watched as her coughing turned to sputtering, and then she breathed clearly.
Before she became aware of those around her, he waved them off, even the maid, Margaret, who had to be dragged away by Hugh.
Sebastien knelt by her side and waited until she opened her eyes. “I suppose you will never appreciate secrets now,” he whispered to her.
“Malcolm,” she gasped, trying to right herself and find her brother.
“Shh,” Sebastien said, taking her in his arms and rocking her. “Malcolm is well, as you shall be shortly.”
The subject of her worry ran by, calling for Philippe to follow him. With a wave to her, Malcolm threw himself back into the water.
“Philippe! Have a care…” Sebastien pointed in Malcolm’s direction and the squire nodded, acknowledging the order.
“He took to it as though born there,” he explained to her, all the while holding her close. “I did not know you could not swim or I would have warned you.”
“I thought he would die. I saw him go under and thought he…” Her words drifted off and she shook in his arms. He held her in silence, allowing her to cry out her fear.
“I have only ever wanted to keep him safe. That is why I sent him from the castle the day of the battle. I thought you would kill him if you found him.”
Confused at first by this shift in her words, Sebastien realized that the shock of thinking Malcolm in danger had released much more, from deep within her.
“Everything we’d heard about the Bruce and what he would do to us… I tried to get him away…even though my father said to stay inside. I tried… I tried…”
“Lara, he is safe. Malcolm is safe,” Sebastien repeated, over and over until she quieted. “You are safe. Never fear, I will always protect you.”
She leaned back and looked at him, as though seeing him for the first time. “You are so very different than I expected an enemy to be.”
He laughed for a moment and then met her serious gaze. “As are you.” Her teeth chattered and he noticed her lips were blue. “Come, you must get out of these wet clothes.”
He stood up and helped her to her feet. After tripping over the sopping gown, he leaned down and lifted her into his arms. Instead of objecting or struggling as he thought she might, she collapsed against his chest. When they reached the drawbridge, he called out orders, and by the time he climbed the tower to their chambers, Hugh was on his way to retrieve the boys from the firth and Margaret stood ready with drying linens and hot water.
Sebastien released her into her maid’s care, but did not leave the room.
Turning his back, he tugged off his own wet clothes and found a dry pair of trews in his trunk.
By the time he’d changed, Lara was sitting in the chair wrapped in a thick blanket.
With a glance, he dismissed Margaret, who looked for a moment as though she would disobey his order to go.
He threw another piece of wood into the hearth and stoked the fire until it burned hotter. Then he crouched before Lara and waited for her to look at him. When she did, he reached up and touched her cheek. She did not pull away.
“It would have been better if you had forced your way in,” she whispered.
Her words surprised him. “Forced my way in?”
“Into the castle. Into my bed.”
Sebastien shook his head. “That is not my way.” It had never been his way. When others preferred force, he went out of his way to avoid it. Force was the stupid man’s method of getting what he wanted—and he had not gotten this far by being stupid.
“No, it is not,” she said, gazing into his eyes. “You prefer guile and manipulation. By not forcing me, you have won everyone in Dunstaffnage to your side.”
“Save one.” He outlined her mouth with the tip of his finger. “For that one, I would give up all the rest.”
Her lips parted then and she searched his face. “I cannot give in to you. I cannot be the wife you want without betraying everything I am.”
Her voice shook as she told him the heart of her problem. He’d known it; she had told him in so many ways without the words being spoken. She had more honor in her soul than most of the warriors he’d faced in battle. This woman fought for her conscience when others sold theirs.
“Then you give me no choice but to force you,” he said, standing and pulling her to her feet. Her hands clutched at the blanket, but she did not fight him.
“Men…people of honor can serve on each side of a battle,” he began.
He lifted her chin and brought her mouth closer to his so that his breath spilled onto her as he spoke.
“This battle is not between the clans, is it,” he whispered as he touched his lips to hers and then drew back. “It is between Scotland and England.”
Sebastien kissed a path down her neck to the edge of the blanket, which she now held so tightly that her knuckles were white.
“Robert stands for Scotland in the same way you have been standing for your clan.” He kissed the slope of her breast. “In good conscience.” He nipped back up to her chin.
“With integrity.” He touched her mouth with his and then looked into her eyes. “With honor.”
His body surged just as it had earlier when she watched him from the window. Everything in him was screaming for him to take her now, but he knew it would be a mistake. It must be her decision. It must be.
“Have I not kept my word to you?” he asked. She frowned at his words. “Have I not kept any promise made to you since I came here on the orders of my king?” He gave her a moment to remember all the steps along their path and how he had been true to his word.
“I cannot think when you touch me like this,” she complained.
He let his hands wander over her, sliding over the blanket, knowing by the shivers and shudders that she could feel him. “Nay, Lara, the problem is that all you have been doing is thinking. It is time to trust.”
He took her face in his hands. “Can you trust me?” He hoped he was correct in his knowledge of her. He prayed that his gut instinct was right, or he would lose everything…. He would lose her.
She did not give an answer quickly, but then nodded slightly.
“I swear to you on my honor that Robert should be king of Scotland. I swear he is the rightful and legitimate king and that I follow him willingly and without reservation. Other men of honor who have fought against him now come to his side. Men and women of good conscience support his claim. Can you trust me in this and come to my side?”
He kissed her then, openmouthed with all the passion he’d felt for these last weeks and weeks. He tasted her and his tongue touched hers, in and out, in and out, until she gasped for breath.
“Do not make me choose, Sebastien,” she begged him. “Do not.” She clutched at his hands now.
“You would not respect or trust me if I force you in this. It must be your choice.” He dropped his hands from her and moved back. In his soul he prayed that she knew he would not betray her. That he would keep her safe. That they could live together.
“So, look now into your heart and tell me. For the good of clan and country, indeed even for your own good and mine, do you continue the battle or come to my side and accept all that I offer you?”
Sebastien held his breath, knowing that the decision about his life and theirs would be made in the next moments.