Ian dozed fitfully in the
wooden chair. Sleeping in the bed where Keely's scent played havoc with his desire--where
he might seduce her--was not an option. He jerked awake, his eyes opening then
closing, listening to the sounds surrounding him. A hint of danger lurked
everywhere as an unknown threat stalked him.
Keely moved around the room,
searching through her stock of healing herbs; sorting, rearranging, then
carefully labeling and placing them on the shelf again.
Her plan not to travel
disturbed him. In her home, she would be vulnerable to all sorts of vultures,
yet on the road, her risks were even greater. She might very well find herself
at the mercy of thieves, soldiers of fortune, wild animals. She would be at
great risk without a protector.
While his sleep had been
fitful, the dreams had been vivid. His sleeping visions brought to light all
kinds of information. He just didn't know if the places and people he saw were
real or imaginary. He could have conjured all kinds of images to replace all
he'd forgotten. The black-haired woman, the tall sturdy man, the castle as well
as the rugged windswept terrain, all evoked strong emotions, yet he did not
recall what they meant to him.
"You are awake?"
Her voice floating across the room seemed to fill every nook with sweet
femininity. She was grace and beauty, peace and calm, yet she set an inferno in
his blood he could not quench.
"How did you
know?" he queried, pushing back on the seat, then stretching his legs and
back muscles. The need to smile at this woman and fill her with comfort filled his
senses. She was giving to a fault, so much so that she'd taken him into her home.
The need to protect her was
an overpowering need. Yet he knew he had been sent to this place in the
lowlands for a reason. He was duty bound to see his mission through. A mission
he could not remember--one that tormented every waking hour.
He stood slowly before
walking toward the woman who seemed to know him better than he knew himself.
She laughed; the sound was
soft and comforting, healing. "I kenned you were awake because you quit
snoring."
"No magical powers
then?" He stood close to her, caught her scent, her spirit, her giving
nature and her soul-deep courage. She was a woman made for the Highlands. He
wanted to wrap her within his arms and pull her close, never let her go. Yet
above all other feelings, his desperation to know himself filled him soul deep.
Who was he? Did he live
within the castle of his dreams with a black-haired woman? Nay, his heart cried
out.
Her hesitation told him more
than her words of denial. "I possess no mystical or unheard of
powers."
"You lie." He
spoke softly but earnestly. "You have bewitched me, enchanted the very air
I breathe."
"Perhaps I have not always
told the truth. Perhaps you have bewitched me," she countered. The sad
wistfulness in her words touched him deeply.
"I would know the
truth."
Her lashes fluttered closed.
Her hands came together in front of her. She inhaled roughly then turned to
face him, her chin tilted determinedly. "I would that I had no powers of
any sort. Sometimes I feel they are a curse. What I see in my dreams comes too
late to help, too late to give warning." She paused. "You must not
tell anyone what you know."
"I know nothing. Nor do
I understand what it is you speak of."
Puzzled, she watched him,
reached out to touch the line of his jaw with one finger. "Then..."
she paused thoughtfully, "why did you confront me?"
He shrugged. "'Twas a
feeling I have. Something coming from deep inside. You know things; understand
that which you should not." He walked to the table where the bag of runes
had been set, then picked them up. He opened the bag and let each one slide
through the opening to land with a rattle upon the table.
She stiffened, reaching for
the runes, wishing she could grab them away. "I would
ask you to forget what you just said--or that
you saw these."
"I cannot. Nor will I put
to the back of my mind all you have done for me." He picked up one of the
runes and studied the stone thoughtfully before setting it back upon the table.
"What is it you see in these?"
"You must forget. And
you must not ask questions about things you will never understand." Her
voice was urgent, filled with a quiet desperation he'd never heard from her
before. "You could betray me to my greatest enemies."
"Enemies? One as caring
and nurturing as you should not have enemies," he said, instantly curious.
His focus changed from the runes to her words. Enemies indeed. He would not let
her run from her enemies. He would fight them all, stand by her side. Yet
something in those thoughts sent a frigid chill down his spine. Loyalty, the
King, duty bound and in James' service, he knew he had promised something to
someone. Suddenly his head pounded. Absently he rubbed his temples, easing the
pain but not the strange sensation that he was about to remember something he
would regret.
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