The Libertine (12 page)

“Aye, and cast us deeper in shadows. Although it is the first
time I have used magic since I entered this room tonight.”

Chloris stared up at him. At first she thought he was
clarifying about the earlier interruption, when he’d hidden in the shadows and
she’d distracted the serving girl. Slowly, it dawned on her what he was saying.
Magic had not played a part in their frantic lovemaking, only mutual desire.
There was no ritual, no chanting, and yet it had been every bit as powerful an
exchange as it had the day before in the bluebell glen. More so, in fact,
because they came together with open, mutual longing, and because she could see
his expression while they coupled.

He ran his fingers through her hair and smiled. “You seem
surprised.”

“I am. When you made love to me I assumed it was...magical.”
Her face flushed. She felt a little silly.

“It
was
magical, but only by virtue
of the fact that we are well matched in both desire and appetite for each
other.” After he said that, he stroked his fingers along her upturned face,
looking at her for a long moment, as if he, too, was considering the import of
that connection.

Chloris tried to take it in. They had come together for ritual
magic, a task, and yet what had happened between them that night was driven by
something entirely different, a mutual need that had to be fulfilled. Could it
be true, or was this part of his seductive repertoire, a performance he
delivered to any woman he wanted to bed awhile? She wanted to believe, but it
was a difficult task, given all that she had been told.

For her own part she wanted him, she couldn’t deny
that—couldn’t deny him when he’d come to her. Before Lennox she’d known no other
lover aside from Gavin. Their couplings were cold and perfunctory, at best. She
assumed a man such as Lennox experienced pleasure this way with any woman he
chose to couple with, and that she was one of many he was well matched with. Yet
the way he looked at her made her wonder as to his meaning.

Then he bent to kiss her. It was gentle this time, a
confirmation, not a demand.

Chloris returned the kiss, wrapping her arms around his head
when he held her to him, savoring his embrace. Never before had she experienced
such bliss, and she wanted to claim every part of it.

“You must go, all is quiet now,” she insisted as they drew
apart, her growing need to protect him taking over. “Promise me that you will
not come here to the house again, it is too dangerous.”

“I will promise you that, if you promise to meet me at the old
oak in the mornings instead.” He searched her expression as he awaited her
response, and she felt the strength of his will. He wanted her to agree to the
request.

Could she even begin to think about denying him? She would be
denying her own desires, too, for her instinctive response was to agree. She
wanted to meet with him again. She’d already broken her vows—just as her husband
had done, long ago, when he took a mistress—and this was a source of happiness
she had never imagined could be hers. She was also afraid, though, because the
dislike Tamhas had for Lennox was so fierce, and Jean had made it clear that her
husband was looking for a good reason to oust the witches who lived around Saint
Andrews. Chloris did not want to put any of them in danger of that. If she met
him in the forest, though, the risk would be much smaller. Would she be brave
enough to claim a few more moments of happiness with Lennox while she was in
Saint Andrews?

“Please, Chloris,” he murmured, “say you will.”

“Yes, I will.”

The tension in his expression vanished, and the smile he gave
was broad and infectious. Chloris laughed softly then stood on her tiptoes and
cupped his face in her hands in order to kiss his mouth. The swelling emotion in
her chest should have made her fret, but it didn’t. Not then, not when he was
holding her and it felt so right and true. The doubts would come later, she knew
they would, but for now, she denied them.

CHAPTER TEN

Tamhas Keavey supped his ale and scowled at the doorway
to the inn. It was well past the agreed meeting time and there was no sign of
Master MacDougal. It was important that he wait, though. As head of the town
council MacDougal was often called upon to adjudicate in urgent matters.

When MacDougal eventually arrived, Tamhas signaled for another
jug of ale and rose to his feet.

“My apologies, friend.” MacDougal took his seat. “Affairs of
the council take precedence over social time, I’m afraid.”

Tamhas forced a smile. “It is a matter of the council I wish to
speak to you about this evening.”

MacDougal frowned. “If that is the case it should be discussed
in council.”

“It is imperative that I warn you about a suspicion I have, one
that I cannot speak about openly as yet.”

They fell silent when the serving wench arrived with a jug and
a second mug. While she poured the ale, Tamhas was pleased to note that
MacDougal looked curious, despite his reservations.

Once the girl had gone, MacDougal nodded for him to
continue.

“It is Lennox Fingal.”

MacDougal’s frown returned. “You have already raised concerns
about Master Fingal and we made a compromise in recognition of that.”

“The concerns I have are weighty and therefore need to be
broached. Believe me, it is the council and our town and families I fear
for.”

“Fear? You fear Master Fingal?”

Tamhas twitched. “I fear for the innocents because I believe
Lennox Fingal is a wrongdoer. I am more than ready to step forward and defend
our town.”

“Master Fingal hasn’t given me any cause to doubt the decision
we arrived at regarding his presence on the council. And his men are good
workers, skilled.”

“It’s a sham!” Tamhas paused to rein in his anger. It wouldn’t
do to lose control. “A respectable cloak behind which he hides. His allegiance
is to the dark path of the Devil, and he engages in witchcraft up there at his
house in the forest.”

MacDougal pursed his lips and considered Tamhas at length.

“I believed you to be more of a forward thinker than this,
Keavey.”

Tamhas tightened his grip on his mug of ale. He wanted to crush
it. “I
am
a forward thinker. I am thinking of our
country, our families and their future.”

“That is not what I meant.” MacDougal pushed his ale away. His
expression was disapproving. “There is no evidence of witchcraft in Saint
Andrews, only hearsay. I understand you are suspicious of anyone who does not
have a long history in the town, that is natural caution, but we are responsible
men. As members of the council we must set a good example to all. We are
leaders, and we must think and act carefully. An accusation of witchcraft
against one of our townsmen would bring disrepute on the whole town.”

Tamhas’s frustration grew. “But witchcraft has been rife all
over Scotland for centuries, why not here?”

“We are the religious capital of Scotland. That is no small
thing.”

Enraged, Tamhas gesticulated with his hands. “And therefore a
temptation of the highest order, to such as them.”

“Our good name cannot be tarnished by hearsay.”

“Are you saying you would ignore a person you thought was
capable of such heinous acts, for the sake of the reputation of the town?”

“No, I’m not saying that.” MacDougal leaned forward and kept
his voice low. “But we would require sound evidence and it would need to be
handled discreetly.”

The tension that had built between them diminished a
modicum.

“Nowadays caution is key...humanity,” MacDougal continued.
“There are many in government who doubt the existence of witchcraft, and who
question the death sentences that have been so readily doled out over the course
of our history.”

“They are fools,” Tamhas blurted. “I’ve seen three of them
hanged and they were evil to the core.”

MacDougal observed him in silence, and Tamhas regretted
speaking out again after they were drawing closer to an understanding.

“If Master Fingal has evil intensions it will be revealed in
the course of time and we will make a decision on how to act upon it.” MacDougal
prepared to leave without having touched his ale. “For the time being, we will
watch his performance on the council. By the close of summer, we will either
revoke his invitation or his wainwrights will be recognized as a town
guild.”

Tamhas gritted his teeth. MacDougal was clearly humoring him,
but he had raised his concerns and there was nothing more he could do without
evidence.

Evidence I intend to get.

* * *

The next time the coven came together in ritual it was
to summon a good harvest for the sake of a local farmer. Griffin had come to
Somerled when his family had fallen on hard times after the death of the eldest
son, and they needed a good crop to trade or they would lose their tenancy.

Lennox made his way to the clearing where the group met for
ritual. Dusk was closing in. The sun was low on the horizon and the sky was
streaked with radiant shades of russet and pink. It sent long shadows through
the forest and across the place where they gathered. When Lennox took his place
and glanced around the assembled group he saw restlessness in their eyes,
questions. Something was amiss.

“We are only twelve,” he commented.

“Nathan is still scouting about,” Glenna informed him, “to make
sure we are not being observed.” There was an unhappy set to her mouth.

“I would know if there were strangers nearby.” He had already
circled the forest on his horse while the others built and kindled a fire on the
clearing.

Glenna nodded, but she looked uneasy.

“What troubles you?”

Glenna glanced over at Ailsa and then at Nathan as he made his
way through the trees to join them. It was Ailsa who spoke up and when she did
Lennox saw distress in her eyes.

“It is Keavey’s men, the ones who visit the tenants at the far
reaches of his land. These last two days they made their way through the forest
instead of skirting it when they returned to Torquil House.”

“Through the forest?”

“The first time I saw them I thought it was by chance. Then I
was out there late this afternoon and they came through again. I was hidden in a
thicket between the trees and when I glanced back I saw they were watching
Nathan from a distance. I heard them talk amongst themselves.”

There was a hunted look in her eyes, and Lennox knew why. Bad
memories of what she’d seen haunted her. It was how she’d looked when he first
found her, and it returned when her liberty and her innate craft were under
threat of discovery by those who would lead them to the gallows.

“They were trying to observe what Nathan was harvesting. Once I
knew, I caused a distraction in the trees and they moved on. But I fear they
will return, and often. They are watching us, Lennox.” Unhappiness poured from
her.

“Do not fear, for this ground is protected by my magic.”

“Is your magic strong enough to protect us all?” It was Glenna
who asked.

“I will strengthen the bond this very night. They will observe
nothing in the forest. In our domain we will be safe.” He locked eyes with each
and every one of them in turn, giving them his promise. “Be on your guard if
you’re elsewhere or in the town, however.”

He reached out his hands and the circle followed, each joining
hands. “Let us move quickly and call on nature’s bounty for the sake of Farmer
Griffin.”

Lennox felt their concerns diminish as they pooled their
craft.

He threw his head back and breathed deeply, allowing the tides
of time and nature to flow through him. Beneath his feet, he felt the richness
of the earth and channeled his thoughts to it. When he began to chant the
ancient words aloud, the coven followed. Some of them stood still, some swayed
gently. The essence of each and every person gathered there rippled around the
circle, into him, and connected with the ground they stood upon. When it grew
strong and vital he raised his arms, then knelt and thrust his hands into the
earth. Behind him the circle closed and a charge like lightning ran up his back.
Heat and light flooded from his fingertips into the ground. He lowered his head,
humbly offering himself, requesting nature’s good fortune to benefit the kindly
farmer who had asked for their help. Again their pooled essence shot from his
fingertips into the ground.

Only when he was satisfied did he break with the ritual and
rise to his feet.

He noticed that the ritual had restored unity to the coven.
Grateful that it had brought some peace, he thanked them. Glenna smiled and the
men embraced the women.

Nathan spoke up. “Do you want me to stay?”

“See to the others, take them back to Somerled.”

Nathan encouraged them and the crowd dispersed, meandering back
toward the house in the woods. Only one remained. Ailsa.

When Lennox went to her side he quickly saw that the distress
in her eyes was now tempered by a plea. A plea for understanding. “You are
hurting, Ailsa?”

“Aye. I’m afraid.”

“Do you wish to leave Somerled?”

She shook her head. For a long moment she was silent, and when
she spoke her voice faltered. “Lennox, you came for me. When my sister was
charged and taken to the gallows and my life was over,
you
came. You took my hand and led me to safety.”

Before him, Lennox saw a woman humbled. He rarely saw her that
way these days, for she had grown strong and boisterous within the safety of the
coven. “I know what it’s like to lose kin,” he answered.

She nodded, a tear dropping from her eyelashes to her cheek as
she did so. “It was only a matter of time until all of Berwick turned on me as
they had my sister. Had you not come, I would have been unprotected. You saved
me, Lennox.”

Lennox saw it then. Far beyond the responsibility, her loyalty
was deeply bedded, but she was opening her heart in ways he had never seen her
do before. A prickly lass she’d been and it moved him to see her so humbled.

He cupped her face in his hands, gently wiping away her tears
with his thumbs. “It is what I do. When I hear tales of brethren I seek them
out. If I cannot help them, I will try to help the ones they’ve left
behind.”

She reached her hand to cover his and her lower lip
trembled.

“As a lad I ran,” he confessed, “in fear of my persecutors. If
someone had come to rest their hand upon my shoulder I might have tracked down
my sisters, but I did not. I do not want anyone to feel what I have felt, but so
many of you have and will.”

Her eyelids dropped. Still, she wanted to know that she was
more to him than the rest, he sensed it in her. “Ailsa, I will always try to
protect you, but you must be strong.”

When she lifted her eyelids, her eyes shone. “Lennox, you are
everything to me, you are my laird.”

“Hush now.” He rested a kiss on her forehead, treasuring her as
he had treasured all those he’d brought together. He did not deserve their
loyalty, and yet it was freely given, for they trusted in the one who guided
them, the one who nurtured them and their craft.

“The fear, it runs amongst us,” Ailsa whispered, “and when one
of us is directly threatened we all feel it. But you grow distant, you only want
to win over the town council.”

She spoke the truth. His attentions were divided, just as they
always had been. And life had yet again played a cruel trick on him, for his
intentions toward Mistress Chloris were shifting of their own accord, and that,
too, played its own part in what he wanted and the actions he took. “I see it, I
know it.” He sighed. “It’s hard for me because part of me yearns to stand
amongst them, to be recognized for what we are, not feared.”

Her eyes flashed in the moonlight. “That part of you will lead
us to ruin.”

“I will not let it happen, rest easy. All around us people have
questioned the fear of witchcraft. Some simply do not believe it, they say the
law was written by a madman who feared everything. I long to find my way to a
middle ground where we are accepted for what we are. If it does not happen, we
will go north to the Highlands.”

Solemnly, she regarded him. “You are a strong man, but you are
ruled by your emotions.”

“Would you want me to change that?”

She shook her head.

“Right then. Away back to the house, I have work to do.”

Still she hesitated. “Shall I warm your bed for your
return?”

There was tension in her voice. They had not lain together for
some time. Was she testing him?

Lennox shook his head. “It will be late when I return.”