“He had two blades,” Keenan said (19 page)

Keenan picked up one of Serena’s feet still clad in silky stockings. She gasped and tried to pull it away. He held on and began to rub it gently between his two large hands. He ran his knuckle up the middle, giving even pressure along her instep and then to the balls of her foot. Serena pulled back a little at the immense sensation.

“Hold still, lass, I’m only trying to help these mistreated feet.”

While cupping her heel in one hand, and circling it slowly, his other fingers massaged each of her toes. A cross between a sigh and a groan seeped out of Serena and she closed her eyes at the sensations of achy pleasure rolling up her leg.

“I wouldn’t think that one used to dancing would hurt so badly after a night at court.”

Serena snorted as she relaxed back into the soft feather down pillows. “Around the fire, I dance in soft leather shoes that are flat, not those hard, pinching contraptions.”

Keenan continued up her calf to her knee and then took up its abused twin.

“Mmm.” Her eyes flitted back open and found Keenan studying her. Her throat clenched, preventing another breath.

Serena felt the blush creep up into her face. She touched the tip of her tongue to her upper lip. “So,” she began and swallowed. She tried to push back up into a more upright position. “Where did you learn to rub legs like that?”

Keenan grinned. “Mostly on mares after long rides.”

Serena pulled her leg back a bit and frowned. He laughed. “But also on Elenor, when we were alone, I would massage her feet.”

“She had sore feet?”

Keenan’s grin broke into a full smile. It reached his eyes, making their gray depths sparkle. He was the most handsome man she had ever known. And he even rubbed his dear sister’s feet.

“My poor sister had sore feet from chasing after me.”

“You ran a lot?” Serena said on a laugh.

“All over Maclean lands, inside and out.”

“And Elenor followed you?”

“Aye, ‘twas her job.” Keenan’s smile weakened back down into a mild grin. He kept rubbing and circling her foot.

“Had you no nanny?”

“Nay, the woman responsible for watching us had to keep a constant eye on Lachlan, so nothing would befall him.”

“Oh,” Serena said, her own smile going flat. “And your parents?”

Keenan bent forward to run the flat of his hand up her shin. “They dinna have time to watch after me.”

“So they ordered Elenor to do it.”

“She volunteered.” He smiled warmly. “She loved me, raised me really. Taught me the ways of my world, about the prophecy.”

Serena watched him, his head bowed slightly as he worked. “No one else told you about it?”

“Nay, they left it to her. And I wanted to understand why I was treated differently from Lachlan.”

“How were you treated differently?”

Keenan stopped rubbing her legs. Serena held her breath as he moved up close to where she sat. Keenan circled his finger in the air. “Turn around and I will endeavor to pull the ribbons and pins from yer hair, else ye may never sleep.” Serena let her breath out and turned around as best she could in the heavy court dress.

With her back to him, Serena could feel his gentle tugs as he began to undo Winifred’s beautiful weave. The touch of his fingers in her hair sent chills along the nape of Serena’s neck. As each curl came down around her waist, he ran his fingers from her scalp to the end to relax the bound curl.

“Once when Lachlan was sixteen, he decided that he had had enough of playing life safe. At least for the day.” His fingers trailed down her shoulder to fan out her hair. “I was nine summers and had been training with the young warriors, eager to show that I could complete my duty for my clan.” Keenan pulled a clip from the top of her head and a mountain of hair cascaded down. “Lachlan just wanted to venture outside the walls of Kylkern having ne’er been allowed to leave the surrounding village. I offered to help him. I pitied his existence more so than mine. His shackles were obvious even to a nine-year-old.”

Keenan reached up under her hair and sieved his fingers through the waves to her scalp. He began to massage the roots of the heavy tresses. Serena closed her eyes to the wonderful feel, but her mind held tightly to his story.

“So I helped him sneak past the guards, and we ran down to the loch. He dinna ken the way of keeping afloat and dinna tell me until he was past his head. At nine I wasn’t as big as he, but I still managed to pull him to shore, thrashing and wailing.” Keenan left her scalp and ran his fingers down the length of her hair, untangling little snarls as he went.

“Brodick’s father found us stretched out in the mud like fish and gave us a ride back to the Keep.” Keenan breathed deeply behind her. His voice lowered to a sultry whisper. “Lass yer hair smells of sweet spices and highland wind.” Serena didn’t move, didn’t know what to say. Keenan remained silent for several moments.

Serena’s words were so quiet, it was hard to hear them. “What happened when you returned to the Keep?”

Keenan’s hands began to move through her hair again. “Lachlan was scolded and sent to bed. A guard followed him for some time after that.”

“And you?”

“I was flogged and sent to heal in the stables.”

His words were devoid of emotion, no self-pity, no resentment, just words. Tears stung Serena’s eyes, and she closed them. Pain, she felt a low pulse of pain and then it was gone, snuffed out. She opened her eyes. From where had the feeling come?

“Elenor tended me and as ye see, I recovered.”

“On the outside.”

Keenan ignored her comment. “I learned much that day. I learned my place in the world, the rules of my existence. I learned how lucky I was to have Elenor.”

They were quiet for a while, her back still towards him. When his hands stopped stroking her hair, Serena turned around.

“So this prophecy chained Lachlan to the Keep and forced you out to defend yourself and the clan against the world.”

Keenan’s grin did nothing to chase away the muted sadness in his eyes. “It certainly affected our lives.”

“Cursed your lives.”

Keenan looked down at his hands. And then back up at her. “It seems to be dooming our Maclean line. Lachlan waits for his witch. And Elenor has become an old maid.”

“And what of you, Keenan? Will you not wed and have children?”

Keenan shook his head, pushed off the bed and walked to the hearth. “I ne’er thought I would. I dinna want to sire children only to leave them to be raised without a father.”

Serena followed. “But you don’t know when you are supposed to die. Maybe it will be when you’re old and gray and ready for a natural death, Keenan.”

Keenan frowned at her. “I doona wish for that.”

“Why?”

“Because this life is hard enough.” He bent to add dry peat to the fire. “To go on alone for so long only to realize at the end that I could have had a life, had children and watched them grow.” He shook his head.

Serena rubbed her hands along her cheeks in frustration. “Then do something about it now, Keenan. Find a woman to love. Give her your children. Watch them grow and love them well.”

He looked over his shoulder at her as if considering her words. “And where would this woman be, lass?” He asked the question, but his gaze told her he knew an answer, an answer that stood before him, her hair fanned out around her waist. It was as if she felt his desire. Was it in his gaze? Or could she actually feel something from him?

The fire sparked behind him, and he turned to kick some embers back into the hearth.

“So what of ye, Serena? If ye could find a man that respects ye as ye are, would ye marry?”

Serena stepped closer to the fire. “He must accept my powers and not feel ashamed of me. But also, I must feel love for him.”

“Love can grow after ye marry.”

He spoke of Lachlan. She knew it and frowned. “We talk in circles, Keenan.” Serena turned and walked to the washing pitcher and poured some water in the basin. “And I am weary. Let us sleep.”

When she turned back to him, he stood before the fire, his feet braced apart and his fists next to his sides. Battle lurked in his eyes.

“I canna sleep here, Serena.”

“The King and court think we are married, at least in the highland way.”

“But my men ken that we are not. And they ken that ye are the witch of the prophecy. I need to bed down with them.”

Serena pointed toward the door. “But what if someone sees you leave? Would a newly wed man stray already from his wife?”

Keenan handed her a short dagger from his boot. “If someone is about, I will come back in. Otherwise, bolt the door after I leave. I will come back before dawn.” He turned away and strode quickly toward the door. “Keep the dagger near ye.”

“Keenan,” Serena called, but he was already shutting the door. “Good sleep,” she whispered to the empty room. She sighed slowly. She would give him a minute or two and then get undressed for bed. She looked down at her court dress and groaned. How would she wrestle the garment off of her alone?

Keenan heard her call his name, but he closed the door anyway. He stopped and willed his blood to slow.

“Leaving your new wife so soon,” a voice came from the shadows. Frampton stepped out with a small candle in hand.

“She but needs a drink of sweet wine from the kitchens,” Keenan answered smoothly and walked away from the door.

“I’ll show you the way, Maclean. My manor house can be quite the labyrinth.”

Keenan acknowledged him and shortened his step to match the shorter man. “I’m surprised to find ye still roaming yer halls, Frampton. “'Tis the dead of night.”

“One learns more about ones occupants in the dead of night than during the brightness of day.” The wily man smiled knowingly at Keenan.

Keenan forced his well-practiced, non-caring smile. “Like the fact that my timid little wife needs some wine to relax herself before a night with her rather new husband.”

Frampton laughed quietly and nodded. “Perhaps. But I will keep that in confidence. Wouldn’t want to embarrass the lady.”

Keenan inclined his head in gratitude. They continued to the kitchen in mild conversation about the success of the reception. Frampton didn’t bring up any of King George’s plans, and Keenan was in no mood to play spy after his near escape from Serena’s chambers. Unfortunately, Frampton continued to follow Keenan from the kitchens.

As they rounded a bend in the stone corridor, Keenan caught a glimpse of Thomas watching from around a bend. Thomas would see that Keenan had no choice but to return to Serena’s chambers.

Keenan continued on to her door. “Thank ye for accompanying me, but from here, I think I can make it on my own.”

“Of course, good eve to you,” Frampton said and bowed before rotating on his heel. Keenan watched him turn the corner, but wondered if the man actually went farther or stood in the dark listening for him to enter the room. Keenan had no doubt that the man would love to report to King George that the lady Serena was being neglected by her husband. The letch would probably visit her during the night. That thought twisted in his mind and he pressed against the door. It slid open effortlessly. The foolish lass hadn’t yet bolted it.

Keenan stepped into the dim room lit only by the hearth fire. A fresh breeze blew in from an open window. The door clicked closed quietly behind him.

A flutter at the window caught his eyes as they adjusted quickly to the dark room. Serena’s pet bird sat on the ledge chirping.

“What, Chiriklò?” Serena’s muffled question brought Keenan’s attention to the fire where she stood, her head covered with the white fabric of her shift as she pulled it up over her head. The bluebird chirped one last time and flew off the ledge out into the night. “Chiriklò, where are you going?” Once she struggled the shift over her head, it slid off her long hair and puddled onto the floor. Serena stood facing the window away from him, completely naked. Keenan didn’t move from his position by the door. His breath lay dormant on an inhalation.

“Thank you for pulling the knots from my stays,” she called toward the window, walked to it and pulled it closed. Keenan’s eyes traveled up her shapely legs and the gentle slope of her backside, perfectly rounded for a man’s hands to splay and knead. Blood rushed through him and he felt himself harden.

Serena turned back toward the fire and stopped. She gasped, clenched her legs together and threw her hands over her luscious round breasts. “Keenan!”

He didn’t say a word, just followed the landscape of her beautiful form with his eyes. Taking in every exposed hill and valley, studying, memorizing. The fire glow splashed shadows along her where her hair fell in waves about her hips, hips that curved gently outward from a trim waist. Dark curls hid the core of her femininity at the vee of her thighs. His eyes slipped from the silk tresses he had run through not twenty minutes ago, to the tips of her tiny toes he had also just explored. She took two steps forward to stand next to the waning fire.

“Keenan,” her voice was lower. “I didn’t expect you to return.”

Each breath seemed as if he pulled it from under a heavy stone. He moved his hand below to adjust himself. Serena’s eyes followed and then widened. “Ye dinna bar the door, lass. I told ye to bar the door.”