The Laird of Stonehaven (33 page)

“Nay, Graeme, you’ll not lose your limb,” Blair said with fierce determination. “Nor will you die.”

Blair heard laughter, sensed a presence behind her and spun around. “You!” she cried. “You did this!”

Glenda glanced down at Graeme without a hint of compassion. “Now neither of us will have him. I hoped the stone would kill both of ye, but now I’ll have to kill ye myself.”

“You’re mad!”

“Mayhap,” she snarled as she launched herself at Blair.

Almost too late, Blair realized that Glenda held a dirk in her hand. Glenda was strong, but so was Blair. They fell to the ground, legs thrashing, arms flailing, rolling over and over as Blair tried to keep Glenda from stabbing her with the dirk. Somehow Blair managed to wrest the dirk from Glenda’s hand and toss it away. Screaming in outrage, Glenda dove after it, stopping at the edge of the cliff as the dirk bounced once, then launched itself as if by magic into the loch.

Glenda’s eyes held a hint of madness as she glared menacingly at Blair. “Prepare to die, witch.”

She dove for Graeme’s sword, but Blair reached it first, kicking it out of the way. It skidded along the ground to the very edge of the cliff. Glenda followed. Blair watched in horror as a strong gust of wind literally lifted Glenda off her feet and swept her over the cliff. Her scream followed her all the way down, then ended in ominous silence. Shaken, Blair crawled to the edge and peered down. Glenda was gone, sucked into the deep waters of the loch.

Trembling, Blair pushed herself to her knees. Though Glenda had nearly killed Graeme and meant to kill her, Blair had not wished for her death. Then she heard Graeme moan and turned her attention to saving the life of the man she loved.

She found Graeme in the same position she had left him, sprawled on the ground, his crushed leg stretched out before him. Blair knew what she had to do, and she needed help to accomplish it. Closing her eyes, she prayed to God and the spirits to empower her. A few moments later, she felt a comforting breeze brush her cheek and knew she wasn’t alone. The spirits were with her, guiding her.

Taking a deep breath, Blair opened her eyes, her expression determined as she prayed for strength to save Graeme’s limb and ultimately his life.

Her hands were shaking as she held them over Graeme’s broken bones and lacerated flesh. Catching her breath, she lowered her hands until they rested directly on his leg. As she prayed and chanted words ingrained into her memory, a great calmness settled over her.

Then needles of heat surged through her hands and arms. The sensation become so intense, her entire body began to tremble. Overwhelming pain sent fire through her veins. Nausea rose in her throat. But she refused to let her own agony distract her. She would heal Graeme or die trying.

Suddenly she felt as if she were being torn apart. Her body was afire, her head ready to explode. Then she knew no more.

Graeme awoke to the sound of squawking seabirds soaring overhead. He was aware of sunshine stabbing against his eyes . . . and little else. He moved cautiously, rising up on his elbows as his wits slowly returned. Then he saw Blair lying in a boneless heap beside him, and memory came rushing back. The stone! Had it struck Blair as well as him as it plunged to earth? Dear God, was she dead?

He had shoved himself to his knees before it occurred to him that he shouldn’t be able to move about so freely. Why wasn’t he writhing in pain? He had seen the bloody mass of flesh and bone that had once been his leg, and knew there was no way it could have been saved. Yet here he was, supporting himself on both legs. Daring a glance at his leg, he saw what had to be a miracle. His right leg was as whole and healthy as his left.

Stunned, he fell back on his rump, his mind refusing to accept what his eyes had seen. Then his glance returned to Blair, and everything else flew from his mind. Crawling over to her, he cradled her head and shoulders in his lap.

“Blair. Sweeting, wake up. Are you hurt?”

He ran his hand over her limbs; nothing seemed broken. There were no bumps on her head, and her heartbeat was strong, though somewhat erratic. Uncertain what to do, he held her and crooned to her until she stirred and opened her eyes.

“What happened, lass?”

Blair dragged in a shuddering breath. “Are you well?”

“More than well, sweeting. How did you do it?”

“Your leg . . . is it . . .”

“It is fine, lass. I dinna know what you did or how you did it, and dinna want to know. Naught short of a miracle could have saved my leg.”

“I couldna let you die, Graeme. Even if it killed me, I would have attempted to cure you.”

Graeme drew back in alarm. “Killed you? What do you mean?”

Blair shook her head, her lips tightly sealed. Graeme refused to accept her silence. “Tell me. I willna relent until I have the truth.”

Blair breathed a sigh of resignation. “Verra well, I’ll tell you. Normally I heal by using herbs and natural remedies. But sometimes they aren’t enough. When that happens, I ask God and the spirits to empower me. ’Tis through them I gain my healing powers. But each time I attempt such a healing it weakens me.”

Shock and disbelief ravaged Graeme’s features. “ ’Tis difficult to believe that your powers are strong enough to make a shattered limb whole. I saw my leg: ’twas ruined beyond repair. The best I hoped for was a successful amputation.

“Blair, you must never reveal to anyone what you did here today. Now I know why your father feared for your life. Did you heal Stuart the same way you healed me? Stuart spoke of a miracle, but I didna ken how it could be.”

“Aye, I used my powers to heal Stuart. He would have died had I not sought help from the spirits.”

“Are you feeling better now?”

“Aye. I’m still weak but no longer feel pain.”

“Pain? Healing causes you pain?”

“ ’Tis naught, Graeme. I am fine now.”

“Nay, you are not fine. You’re still pale and trembling. How long does this weakness last?”

“It depends upon the seriousness of the wound or injury I am healing.”

He flexed his right leg, still unable to believe the miracle Blair had wrought. “Dinna ever use your healing powers in that way again,” he warned. “One day you may not recover. I couldna bear to lose you.” He grew thoughtful, his mind turning in another direction as he stared up at the tower. “ ’Tis strange the way that stone fell.”

“It was no accident,” Blair said. “Someone tried to kill us.”

“Who would do such a thing?” His expression turned grim. “I’ll launch an investigation immediately.”

Blair stirred in his arms. “There’s no need. I know who did it.”

His mouth thinned. “Tell me his name.”

“It wasna a man.” Her expression softened. She touched his arm. “I’m sorry, Graeme. ’Twas Glenda.”

“Glenda! I’ve known her all her life. Are you sure?”

“Aye. When she realized she hadn’t killed both of us, she came after me.”

Graeme stiffened. “Damn her! What happened? Did she hurt you? Where is she now?”

“She had a dirk. We fought for it, and I threw it into the loch. Then she went for your sword. I kicked it out of her grasp, and it came to rest at the edge of the cliff. She dove for it and would have gotten it if a strong wind hadna sent her over the edge. She’s gone, Graeme—carried out to sea with the tide.”

Graeme winced. “I knew she was jealous but hoped I’d solved the problem when I banished her from the keep. Forgive me, lass. I had no idea she presented a danger to either of us.”

Graeme recalled seeing a face in the arrow slit before he’d passed out. He realized it wouldn’t have been difficult for Glenda to work a stone loose from the crumbling ruins and send it hurtling to the earth below.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “If you feel strong enough, we should start back to the keep.”

“Aye, my strength is returning.”

Graeme stood, lifted Blair into his arms, bent to pick up the basket and started walking back toward the village.

“I can walk, Graeme.”

“It pleases me to carry you. It pleases me to be able to walk. But for you, I would be missing a limb, or mayhap dead from loss of blood. Now I believe I could carry you to the ends of the earth and never feel the strain. But I meant it when I said you must never again heal anyone as you did me.”

“Healing is what I do.”

“You know what I mean. Your magic powers are not to be used again. All it would take to bring about your death is one voice raised in accusation.”

“How can I promise such a thing?”

“You must, love. For me, and for the bairns we will have together. Will you promise?”

Blair shook her head. “I canna. If you were to come to harm, I would use any means at my disposal to heal you. Put me down. We’re approaching the village, and I dinna want anyone to think something is amiss.”

Graeme eased Blair to her feet. “I need to tell Glenda’s parents about her death, but not now. I want to get you home first.”

“What will you tell them?”

“Her parents are good people. All they need to know is that she stepped too close to the edge of the cliff and fell to her death.”

“I wish I could change things.”

“Dinna fret, lass. Glenda was her own worst enemy. Jealousy brought about her demise.”

Blair’s legs were shaking by the time she reached the keep. She was drained of energy and barely able to walk under her own power. If not for Graeme’s arm around her, she couldn’t have negotiated the stairs.

Alyce, who had just come from the kitchen, saw Blair and rushed to her aid. “What is it, lass? Are ye ill?”

“I’m taking Blair up to bed,” Graeme said. “Come with me, she’s going to need you.”

Scooping Blair into his arms, he carried her up the stairs and into the master’s chamber, where he set her on her feet. “If you can manage without me, sweeting, I should . . . take care of a pressing matter.”

Blair knew it wasn’t going to be easy for Graeme to give the news of Glenda’s death to her parents and kinsmen. She wished him well as she sent him on his way.

“Dinna worry about me,” she added. “I’m going to take a nap after Alyce helps me undress.”

Graeme kissed her on the lips and advised her to stay in bed until she felt strong enough to rise.

“What was that all about?” Alyce asked. “Ye’re weak as a kitten. Did something happen while ye were gone?”

“I’ll explain while you help me undress.”

“Ye healed someone,” Alyce guessed as she removed Blair’s dress and helped her into bed.

In a few succinct words, Blair told Alyce what had happened. “Graeme is going to tell Glenda’s family that she walked too close to the edge of the cliff and the ground crumbled beneath her feet.”

“ ’Tis just as well,” Alyce concurred. “No need for them to know that their daughter was a murderess. Tell me about the laird’s injury. How serious was it?”

“ ’Twas verra bad, Alyce. The bones in his right leg were broken in numerous places and his flesh was badly lacerated. At the verra least he would have lost a limb. ’Twas more likely he would have died from the amputation.”

“No wonder ye’re done in,” Alyce said, clucking her tongue. “Ye have a bairn growing inside you to think about. If ye can heal a mortal wound such as ye described, there is naught ye canna do, but yer health must come first.”

Blair sighed. “You dinna have to worry about me using my powers again, even if I wasna carrying a bairn. Graeme has forbidden it. He fears that someone will accuse me of witchcraft and the king will act upon it. King James seems determined to stamp out witchcraft.”

“But ye’re no witch,” Alyce reminded her.

“To superstitious Scotsmen, Faery Woman and witch are one and the same.”

“Then I pray an occasion willna arise where ye are challenged to use yer powers to heal. I know ye, lass. Ye canna let a mon or woman die when ’tis within yer power to save him or her.” She tucked the blanket around Blair and closed the shutters to darken the room. “Does Graeme know about his bairn?”

“Not yet. I intended to tell him today but didna have the chance. Soon,” she said sleepily. “I’ll tell him soon.”

“Sleep, lass. Ye need to rest and restore yerself. I’ll make sure ye’re not disturbed.”

Blair was asleep before Alyce finished her sentence. Smiling, Alyce tiptoed from the chamber, leaving Blair to slumber in peace.

Blair’s sleep was not peaceful, however. Disturbing dreams visited her. She saw herself in the midst of a controversy. Fingers were pointed at her and voices were raised in accusation. Among her chief accusers were Niall and MacKay. She knew the king was in her dream, for she felt his royal presence. Suddenly the crowd turned ugly and she was dragged off, screaming her innocence.

Where was Graeme? Why wasn’t he defending her?

Then the spirits spoke to her.

“They mean you harm. You must protect yourself and your child.”

“How?”

Silence.

“Please. Tell me what I must do?”

Though she tried to keep the spirits from leaving, Blair felt nothing but emptiness. The voices were silent. Then her brain shut down as she slipped into a deep sleep.

Graeme returned from the village in a strange mood. While Glenda’s parents hadn’t been able to understand how their daughter could have been so careless, they accepted Graeme’s explanation. He hadn’t wanted to lie, but he knew the truth would hurt them even more than his fabrication.

“Ye look like ye could use a wee drop of whiskey,” Stuart said when Graeme crossed the hall to join him. “Yer errand couldna have been easy.”

“ ’Twas more difficult than you can imagine,” Graeme allowed as he accepted the glass of whiskey Stuart offered. “Especially since what I told Glenda’s parents was a lie.”

“I knew there was more to it than ye let on. Care to share it with yer uncle?”

Graeme took a sip of whiskey while he considered his answer. Perhaps, he thought, it would be best not to tell anyone what had happened today. He did not want talk of the miracle to spread, and the best way to ensure silence was to tell no one. “ ’Tis best you dinna ken what happened,” he said at length.

“Mayhap,” Stuart grumbled, sounding not at all convinced he shouldn’t know. “Is yer lass all right? She looked a mite peaked when ye carried her in. Think ye she is increasing?”