The Highlander's Touch

Page 69

“I do believe I will,” she said slowly, trying to accustom herself to the thought.
Eirren clapped his hands and beamed at her. “Ye willna regret it.”
Lisa’s eyes narrowed astutely. “Do you have a special interest in this, Eirren?”
“I merely wish to be seein’ a lassie happy.”
“That’s not all of it,” Lisa said. “Confess. You like the laird, don’t you? You admire him and you think he needs to get married, don’t you?”
Eirren nodded, his eyes bright. “I suppose I have a fondness for him.”
Probably because his own father didn’t have much time for him, she thought. Circenn Brodie would be easy for a lad to worship. “Hand me my towel, Eirren,” Lisa ordered. She would get the filthy boy in the bath if she had to parade around nude to do it. Someone needed to take responsibility for him, treat him to tender arms and loving discipline.
With an arch glance, he picked up her towel and, with an exaggerated swing of his arm, flung it far across the room to land on the bed. “Get it yerself.”
She gave him her most forbidding you-will-obey-me-little-boy-or-die glance. They waged a battle with their glares—his challenging, hers promising divine retribution—until with a gamin grin he leaped to his feet, slipped behind her, and was gone. She didn’t even hear the door open and close.
She sighed and leaned her head back against the tub, admitting that she hadn’t really wanted to leave the warm, soapy water anyway. “I’ll get you for this, Eirren,” she vowed. “You will have a bath before the week is out.”
She wasn’t certain but she thought she heard a soft tinkle of laughter outside the door.
* * *
The sun was shining, Lisa observed with pleasure. After bathing, she had slipped on a clean gown but forgone slippers. While the maids had removed her bath water, she’d flung open the window and realized that spring had graced the countryside while she’d grieved. She’d felt a fierce need to venture outside, to feel the sun, to savor the birdsong, to connect with what was to be her world. God, she needed to get out of her room. It was suffocating after so long.
She strolled the courtyard at a leisurely pace, curling her bare toes in the lush green grass. Following the perimeter wall of the castle, she was acutely aware of the curious gazes of the guards in the high towers. They watched her intently, and she suspected that Circenn had instructed them not to let her slip from their sight. Rather than feeling guarded or trapped, she found it comforting. While finishing her bath she’d realized that she’d been lucky; things could have been much worse. She might have been dumped through time into the keep of a true barbarian, who would have abused her, turned her out, or simply killed her.
She skirted a small grove of trees and paused, captivated by a clear reflecting pool encircled by smooth white rocks and cornered by four massive standing stones with Pict inscriptions. Lured by history, she trailed her fingertips over the engravings. A lovely stone bench squatted in a small copse before an unusual mound of earth that was about twenty feet long and a dozen feet wide. It was nearly as tall as she was, and the grass on it was a brilliant green, thicker and lusher than the rest of the lawn. Her toes ached to touch it. She stood regarding it, wondering what it was. A medieval burial mound?
“It is a fairy mound. A shian,” Circenn said, moving behind her. He placed his hand on her waist and inhaled the clean fragrance of her freshly washed hair.
Lisa tipped back her head and smiled.
“It is said that if you circle the mound seven times and spill your blood upon the peak, the Queen of the Fairies may appear and grant you a wish. I cannot guess how many young lads and lasses have pricked their fingers here. Old, tall tales—this land is full of them. Most likely some prior kin once emptied the chamber pots here. It would explain how thick and green the grass is.” He dropped a kiss on her hair, wrapping his arms around her from behind. “I glimpsed you from the window and thought I might seek a word with you. How are you, lass?” he asked gently.
“Better,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t plan to stay in there for so long. I just needed time to think. Until you’d given me the flask I still believed I might return. I needed time to come to terms with the reality of my situation.”
“You need offer me no apology. It is I who should offer you one.” He turned her to face him. “Lisa, I am sorry you were ensnared by my curse. I would like to say that I’m sorry you came here, but I must confess that I …”
Lisa glanced up at him searchingly.