“I think the mon is trying to woo me.”
Morainn had to grin at the way Nora rolled her expressive eyes. They sat in the sunlit sewing room of the Chisholm house embroidering linens because Nora was determined to bring as much as she could to her marriage. Since she had no lands and was not rich, she said she would settle for chests full of linens and gowns. Her mother and sister had gone to her aunt’s house to work on the gowns, not only for the wedding, but to try to fulfill at least a few of Nora’s wants and needs. Pride was behind the flurry of work. The Chisholms were very determined to look as grand as any laird’s kinsmen at the wedding.
That left her and Nora blissfully alone in the house, if one ignored the fact that Harcourt and Rory were wandering around guarding them both. Morainn had insisted upon making this visit not only to help Nora, but because she badly needed a friend to talk to and all the men had insisted that she have guards with her. Tormand in particular had not been pleased with the plan, but had eventually given in. She suspected those female relations he often talked about had let him know that sometimes a woman just needed to be with another woman.
In truth, she thought with a smile, she also just needed a woman to talk to for a while. After days surrounded by men, a little boy who had now decided that he was a man too, and cats, just the sound of another woman’s voice made her feel better. They were all good men and she loved Walin, but sometimes a woman needed to talk with another woman and this was such a time. She certainly could not talk about what she needed to any of the men.
“And how is he doing that?” asked Nora, a strong thread of contempt in her voice. “With flowers, jewels, and empty flatteries?”
Resisting the sudden urge to defend Tormand, Morainn answered, “Weel, aye, there are flatteries, but I am nay sure they are empty. He compliments the work I do, my cooking, e’en the way the linens feel and smell. Oh, he does slip in a wee word or two about my bonnie smile, my lovely silken hair, and compares my eyes to the sea. Storm-tossed when I am annoyed and sun-kissed when I laugh.” She almost sighed as she recalled those pretty words and his deep seductive voice as he said them.
“Oh.” Nora sighed in appreciation. “Those are good ones.”
“I thought so.” Morainn was pleased to see that Nora was also touched by those sweet words, for it made her feel less like she was being an utter fool too easily swayed by pretty words. “And he does give me gifts, but nay flowers or jewels. A wee book of verses, a wooden goblet—”
“Wooden! That mon can afford far better than that. James told me the mon is building a verra impressive fortune, e’en said he needed to talk to the mon to see if there were a few things he could learn from him.”
“’Tis a lovely one with wee flowers carved into it, but, aye, he could have easily afforded to give me a silver one.” Morainn smiled. “But I would have had to give it back. Such a rich gift would taste too strongly of, weel, a bribe.”
Nora frowned and then nodded. “Aye, it would have, wouldnae it. It would feel too much like a payment for your favors. Look what I gave ye, he thinks. Now ’tis time for ye to give me what I want. Cannae think that over such things as a wooden goblet, nay matter how bonnie it is. Clever mon. He is giving ye simple gifts.”
“He is indeed. A ribbon he said reminded him of my eyes, a wee journal to write my thoughts in, as weel as the quill and ink to do so.” She nodded at Nora’s scowl. “Rich for ones like ye and me, but small for a mon like him. ’Tis a verra plain one.
“I think it all started a week ago. I was still so verra angry with the mon, but he stood by me during my vision, helping me find the strength and courage I needed, and he e’en rubbed my forehead to ease the throbbing there after the vision ended.”
“Ye like him, dinnae ye? Morainn, the mon just wants to bed ye.”
“I ken it, but, mayhap I would like to bed him.”
“That doesnae surprise me. He is a handsome mon, as bonnie as the summer days are long, even with those mismatched eyes. But think on your reputation,” Nora began, only to pause and then grimace.
“Exactly. Near everyone in town thinks I have already born a bastard child and they spend far too much of their time trying to guess who the father is e’en after all these years. And they all ken that I now abide in Tormand’s house, thanks to Magda and her lasses telling everyone they meet that she saw me arrive, that she had to leave to save her soul. Many truly believe that I am a witch and should like to see me suffer the same fate as my mother did. And let us nay forget how some think I got that cottage from the laird of Dubhstane by warming his bed whenever he wishes it. I have no good name to protect, Nora.”
“Ye and those who love ye ken verra weel that ye arenae what the gossips claim ye are.”
“I ken it and that knowledge eases the sting of what others say, but it doesnae silence them, does it? I would also like to think that those who love me would still do so e’en if I stepped off the righteous path for a wee while.”
“Of course they would, but, Morainn, that mon just wishes to bed ye. Truly. Ye cannae be hoping for more than that from such as him.”
“Most of the time I dinnae, but there is a wee foolish part of me that does, I fear.”
“A mon like that isnae sincere. He but plays a game with women. Leaping from one bed to another like some demented toad.” Nora grinned when Morainn laughed. “Ye deserve far better than that and weel ye ken it.”
“I do, but I doubt I shall ever have it.”
“And why not? Ye are bonnie and smart. Ye have a fine cottage and lands with it.”
“Which a lot of people think I spread my legs for.”
Ignoring that, Nora doggedly continued, “Ye work hard, sew a neat stitch, do beautiful needlework, and cook better than I could ever hope to, which is why I am so pleased James has a cook.”
Before her friend could continue with her list of Morainn’s fine points, which was already embarrassing her, Morainn said, “And a wee boy everyone thinks is my bastard son.”
“Idiots. ’Tis no secret that the lad arrived at your door when he was already two years of age. Did they think ye hid him away under a bramble bush until then? ’Tis just their own guilt that makes them say such things, for one of them is guilty of leaving that child there, others ken who it might be, and none of them told ye, nor did anyone offer to take in the child.”
“And so ye tell them whenever ye get the chance, but it has never made any difference, has it, and it willnae. People will believe what they wish and what makes them feel better. Because of such gossip the only men who have called on me are ones who think they can buy my favors or steal them.”
“Fools.”
“Ye will get no argument from me on that. Too many men also fear my gift. Tormand doesnae, Nora. He told me that his clan is riddled with people who have such gifts. ’Tis verra pleasing to be with people who dinnae see what I can do as sorcery or a gift from the devil that might taint them with the evil it came from; people who believe what I tell them when I see or feel something and dinnae just cross themselves. Tormand not only doesnae flinch, he helps me when I fall weak from the vision or my head aches as it so often does after one.”
Nora set her needlework down and reached out to take Morainn’s hand in hers. “He will hurt ye, break your tender heart in twain and stomp on the pieces.”
Morainn smiled fleetingly. “He would ne’er be so unkind as to stomp on the pieces. There is no cruelty in the mon. Trust me in that. Ye ken weel that I would feel it if there was. And, aye, he may weel break my heart, but I will walk away with some verra fine memories to cling to when I am alone again. I believe Tormand will be a generous and skillful lover. Considering how many times the fool has bedded women, he must have learned something.” She laughed along with Nora.
“Ye truly want to do this, dinnae ye? Do ye love the fool then?”
“I think I might. I was still fighting it, fighting his allure, but I heard a few things in the last two days that have begun to take the fight right out of me. I heard his kinsmen teasing him about his stumbling attempts to woo me. They made it clear that he has ne’er attempted a wooing before. He said he had ne’er needed to, which brought forth a lot of derision from his loving family. But, he also said that he had ne’er wanted to, either.”
“Arrogant, but probably the truth.” Nora grimaced as she picked up her needlework again. “I confess, if I was in your place I would also see that as promising.”
Morainn felt relieved for she had feared she was grasping for any reason, no matter how weak and perhaps false, to stop fighting Tormand. “Then I overheard him speaking with Simon last evening. Tormand confessed to having an epiphany. He said he grew more and more uneasy as he added name after name to that accursed list of his, that he had begun to see a mon he didnae like verra much. Suddenly the things his kinsmen had said, and more especially his kinswomen, were no longer just annoyances to be ignored, but carried the bitter taste of a hard truth. He also confessed to something that obviously startled Simon. It seems that Tormand Murray, the great lover, has been celibate for four months.” She nodded when Nora gasped in shock. “He thinks his disgust with his own behavior had already begun to settle into his heart and mind. My reaction to that list and what I said to him in my anger and hurt also struck him hard. He didnae like the mon I was seeing in him.”
“Oh, my. That sounds e’en more promising. Yet, are ye certain ye wish to wager your heart and virtue on what might just be a passing mood for the mon?”
Morainn slowly nodded. “I think I do. I dream of him, Nora. Every night, and for a lot longer than I have kenned him, although the dreams I have had since I first set eyes on the mon are, weel, more detailed. I wake up feeling needy yet empty. He pulls at everything inside of me. At first my dreams were only of being bedded by a mon with mismatched eyes, cloudy romantic foolishness. They are so much deeper now and not just concerning the lovemaking. I dream of him smiling at me over a meal or of him returning to me after a day at court full of talk about all he has seen and done. And, Nora, I dream of holding his bairns.”
Nora cursed. “Ye love the rutting fool.”
“I just said that I thought I might.”
“Nay. Ye do. There is nay might about it. ’Tis the dream of bairns that tells me that. I wager they all look like him.”
“Aye, but that dream could be born of the fact that I am three and twenty and have never been wooed. Grabbed, wrestled with, offered a coin or two or e’en a rabbit for stewing, and e’en attacked in my own home, but never wooed.”
“Mayhap when this is all done and people ken that ye helped catch these monsters that will change. Ye will have saved so many other women from a like fate.”
Morainn smiled slightly for she could hear the doubt in her friend’s voice. What she did not hear, had not heard throughout the conversation, was disgust or condemnation. Nora was only concerned that Morainn would be hurt. It was a very great possibility that she would be, but that would not stop her.
“Nay, it willnae change. If naught else, my help in this matter will only confirm people’s opinion that I am a witch.”
“Ye are going to do it, arenae ye?”
“I believe I am. E’en if it is only a fleeting, tempestuous thing, I want it. E’en if all the mon can give me is his passion and a sweet, fond fare-thee-weel when it is done, I want it. Then again, he may give me more, may be the mon my dreams tell me he is. If he is my future, would I nay be a fool not to try and grab hold of it?”
“Could ye nay do that without bedding him?”
“Mayhap, but this is Tormand Murray we speak of. I think he is the sort of mon who willnae last long through an innocent wooing, sharing naught but a few kisses. They say that the way to a mon’s heart is through his stomach, but I am thinking that, in Tormand’s case, it may be a wee bit lower. Aye, if I give that mon but a hint that I am ready and willing to be his lover, that will settle the matter there and then. But who can say, mayhap in the heat of passion, in the soft afterward, that is where I might wriggle my way into his heart.
“And, to be blunt, I have no wish to die a virgin. Also, too many men think I am free for the taking and the knife I keep beneath my pillow may nay save me the next time some bastard comes acreeping into my bedchamber in the dead of night. Or one who catches me alone somewhere. I would rather give it away to a mon of my choosing, a mon I might be able to make a future with, than to have it ripped away by someone else.”
“I think I would do the same and I wish ye luck.” She laughed when Morainn leapt to her feet and hugged her. “Get to work, woman. My wedding draws nigh and I mean to have a chest or two full of fine linens.” As soon as Morainn sat down again, Nora said, “Now, tell me how the hunt for these killers fares.”
The sun was going down by the time Morainn left Nora’s home. Her friend walked beside her with Harcourt and Rory ambling along behind them. Nora’s aunt lived along the route to Tormand’s house and Nora was to meet her family there for the evening meal. Morainn was just trying to think of what she could set out for a meal when she felt a cold chill swirl around her and stopped.
“What is it?” asked Nora. “Did ye see someone ye wish to speak to?”
“Ye cannae feel the cold, can ye?” she asked Nora, as she felt Harcourt and Rory step up beside them.
“Nay, there is no cold, Morainn,” replied Nora, looking confused. “’Tis a warm night.”
“Is it the cold ye feel in the visions, lass?” asked Harcourt.
Morainn looked at him in gratitude. She doubted she would ever be able to explain how good it felt to have people around her who truly understood her visions. “Aye, exactly like that. They are watching us.” She felt Nora clutch her hand. “I just cannae see them,” she muttered as she looked around.
She started to move, like a hunter stalking a deer she began following the cold she felt, and dragging Nora with her. Harcourt and Rory stayed close and alert and that gave her courage. It was as she walked by a deeply shadowed alley that she stopped. The cold she was feeling grew sharper and Morainn shivered. She could also feel eyes on her, feel the evil intent of the watcher. He was furious that she had found him.
Quickly turning, she stared into the alley. A huge shadowy form stood there and she could almost see his eyes. Morainn knew it was one of the killers. She had seen the huge man in her dreams too often to be mistaken. The way he stood there staring at her made her want to run back to Tormand’s and hide under the covers.
“He is in there,” she whispered, her voice so soft and shaky that she feared neither Harcourt nor Rory would hear her, but they moved quickly. When Rory hesitated just a little, obviously thinking that someone should stay with her, Morainn shook her head. “Go. We will stand here where we are seen and can be heard by many people.” Even as she watched him follow Harcourt she knew they would fail to catch the man who had already disappeared deeper into the shadows.
“Was it one of the killers?” Nora whispered, her voice shaking with fear.
“Aye, but dinnae fret. We stand in the light with dozens of people close at hand.” Morainn smiled a little coldly. “And I have a verra big knife tucked in a sheath just inside my skirt.”
“Oh. Can ye reach it quickly?”
“Aye. I reach it through a wee slit just beneath my waist and my hand rests upon it e’en now.”
“They arenae going to catch him, are they?”
“Nay, I dinnae think so. It will make them verra cross.”
“It would make me verra afraid and yet ye seem so calm.”
Morainn nearly laughed. Inside she was tight with fear. The proof that the killers were watching her so closely terrified her. She could still feel those eyes on her and she wanted to wash the feel of them away. For a brief moment, as she had stared at that shadowy form, she had smelled the blood on his hands, had heard the screams of the murdered women in her mind.
“Nora, I want ye to ask James to make sure that ye and yours are never alone.”
“But none of us has ever had anything to do with Sir Tormand and ye said it was his women the monsters were after.” Nora stared at Morainn, her eyes widening with fright. “Jesu, and ye intend to become one of them.”
“Weel, actually, my intention is to try verra hard to be the last name on that list, but, remember, the killers were already after me. That madwoman believes I am already in his bed. She wouldnae believe me if I told her that was nay so and she is just as concerned about Sir Simon using my gift to find her, as she is about what I may or may not be doing with Tormand. But, since they are after me, I worry that they may try to pull me into a trap by using those I care about. Being my friend could be verra dangerous now. So, please, ask James to have ye and yours weel guarded and ne’er go anywhere alone.”
“I promise.” Nora shook her head. “I ne’er really thought of the danger ye are in. The murders horrified me, but I didnae think myself or anyone I kenned was in danger and so went merrily about my business. But, as ye say, these people are mad, and they dinnae have to make sense in their choices of victim.”
“Nay, and, worse, they like the killing. There is a pleasure in it for them.”
“I really wish ye hadnae told me that,” Nora muttered. “Now I am truly terrified.”
“Good. Until these beasts are caged and then hanged, I believe everyone round here ought to be terrified. The woman who is doing this kills anyone she feels has hurt or wronged her and those injuries are usually all in her twisted mind. I believe she has already killed her husband, and, considering the way her illness makes her think, she may have already buried some of her own kinsmen.”
“And, curse it, your guards havenae found the one ye saw and so the danger remains,” Nora said softly, as Harcourt and Rory returned, both men looking furious.
“The mon disappeared like smoke upon the wind,” said Harcourt, his anger making his voice hard and cold. “’Twas like trying to chase a shadow.”
“I feared that would be the way of it,” said Morainn, as they started to walk toward Nora’s aunt’s home again. “I have told Nora she should get James to see that she and her family are guarded.”
“Good idea,” said Harcourt. “I begin to fear that these killers are growing bolder and have gained a taste for what they do, mayhap e’en begin to need to feed that sick hunger more often.”
Nora groaned. “I didnae need to hear that, either. Shouldnae ye be telling everyone ye can that there are monsters out there who may be growing ever more monstrous?”
“’Tis no secret,” said Harcourt. “Nay matter what we say they willnae think they could possibly be in danger. In their eyes this is all Tormand’s trouble and they think themselves safe if they have naught to do with him.”
Pausing in front of Nora’s aunt’s home, Nora briefly hugged Morainn. “Be verra careful, my friend,” she whispered into Morainn’s ear. “Ye have picked a verra dangerous mon and a dangerous time to fall in love.”
Morainn watched Nora disappear into her aunt’s house, sighed, and started walking toward Tormand’s home. “Mayhap I paused too long to think what that feeling of cold meant,” she said, speaking more to herself than to her companions.
“Nay,” said Rory. “The mon was watching all of us. He moved as soon as we did. It would have been the same nay matter when ye had mentioned the cold ye felt. It wasnae another vision though, was it?”
She shook her head. “Just a feeling. I get them sometimes. Yet, I begin to fear that some strange bond has developed between me and the killers. ’Tis nay just feeling when they are close; ’tis that I hear their voices in my dreams and visions. Aye, and ’tis the way that woman actually speaks to me when she slithers into my dreams or visions. I wish it gone and yet I also wish it was stronger for it might weel lead us to them.”
“Nay, lass,” said Harcourt. “Ye dinnae want to be bonded to that pair in any way, nay matter how much it might help us. I ken ye cannae catch insanity, but is that true when ’tis a vision or a dream? If they have grasped hold of your mind, just what can they do?”
Shivering with the thought that such evil was in her head even when she had not called it there, Morainn wrapped her arms around herself as they entered Tormand’s house. “I dinnae ken. I only ken that I am terrified whenever I hear that icy voice in my head.” She hastily shook herself free of that fear. “I need to wash up and then I will get us all something to eat. I ken weel that ye are all going to be out hunting tonight and ye need a full belly ere ye go.”
Everything moved quickly after that until the time working with Nora felt like a nap. Morainn set out a rough but filling meal, all the while answering questions about what she had felt and seen on the walk home from Nora’s. She then put Walin to bed, smiling at how weary the boy was. The Murrays were very good at tiring out an active boy.
By the time she had cleaned up the kitchen and returned to the great hall all the men had disappeared, leaving only Tormand staring a little morosely into the fire. She helped herself to a tankard of ale and went to sit beside him on the small wooden settee placed before the fireplace. The small, gently burning fire took some of the damp out of the air and spread a soft flickering light over Tormand. She sipped her ale and thought about how handsome he was, the kind of handsomeness that made a lass lose the capability to breathe. Even when he was looking a bit like Walin did when he was denied something he really wanted.
Tormand knew he was in a morose mood when even the fact that Morainn sitting beside him without being asked only lightened his dark humor a little. “I should be out there with them, helping them hunt down these bastards.”
“They would have to guard ye every step of the way and that would hinder their search,” Morainn said. “The talk and the mood of the townspeople grow more dangerous every day.”
“I dinnae understand how they could believe I am the one doing this. I have ne’er hurt a woman. I am ne’er unkind to the poor and e’en helped a friend of mine set up a verra fine home for the children left to fend for themselves, either because they were tossed aside or they were orphaned and had no kin that could or would take them in.”
“That was verra good of ye.”
He smiled faintly. “I can be good on occasion.”
“I am verra certain that ye can.”
Tormand stared at her in some surprise. He knew he had a habit of reading things into her words and smiles that might not be there, hope making him foolish and wishful, but those words had a sultry tone to them that stirred his blood. He leaned back in his seat and idly slipped his arm around her shoulders, feeling a little too much like a green boy trying to steal a kiss. Morainn was not looking at him, but there was the hint of a blush on her face that made him think he had not heard her wrong. She had not been speaking of his charitable deeds. Deciding it would be wise not to admit openly he had heard the tease in her voice, he sought for something they could talk of.
“I but begin to feel like some maiden in a tale who is locked in her tower.”
Morainn laughed. “Nay, Tormand, that is something ye will ne’er be. They need to be free to find these people and, whether ye need protecting or nay, they would feel it necessary to watch ye. Be honest, even ye would be hard put to win out over an angry crowd.”
“I ken it. That and the knowledge that Simon or my family could be hurt as they try to help me is all that keeps me here.” He cautiously leaned closer and gently nuzzled her hair. “Of course, there is one good thing about being held captive in my own home.”
“And what is that?” she asked, not surprised to hear the husky sound of a rising desire in her voice for his warmth, even his scent was stirring her passion and her need for him.
“I have a bonnie lass for company.”
“Weel, ye shall have to send her home for I am here.”
He laughed. “Wretch.”
He touched a kiss to her temple, subtly inhaling her soft scent of clean skin and lightly scented soap. Lavender, he mused. He would probably never be able to smell it again without thinking of her.
Morainn waited for him to do more than idly touch her or place fleetingly soft kisses on her temple. Her mouth actually ached for his kiss, her lips tingling in anticipation, yet he was behaving like the most complete gentleman. She thought it was just her bad luck that when she wanted him to misbehave so that she could just follow him down the road of sin, he was behaving as properly as if some aged, ill-tempered female from her family was lurking in the corner ready to scold him for doing anything inappropriate. It was obvious that she was going to have to give him a stronger hint that his wooing had been successful.
She set down her drink and turned her head—and found her mouth only inches from his. “Are ye still wooing me, Tormand?”
“Trying to.”
“Ye have been doing a verra good job.”
“Have I?” He dared to brush a kiss over her soft mouth and felt her lips cling to his in welcome invitation. “Morainn? I am all asea here.”
“Treading a new path, are ye, and afraid ye are about to step wrong?”
“Aye, that says it weel.” He kissed her again and felt the same welcome, watching the way her mouth briefly followed his as he lifted his head. “I ache to kiss ye, Morainn. I have tasted the kiss we shared on my mouth for days and am starved for it.”
“Cannae let ye starve, can we?” she said and placed her mouth over his.
His kiss was fierce with the hunger he could not hide. Morainn reveled in it, returned his demand for more as best as she was able. When he ended the kiss he rested his forehead against her and she could feel him shaking faintly. That such a man would feel so in need of her was a heady thing. It might not be any more than a fierce passion, but she was tired of turning it aside. She stroked the back of his neck with her fingers and heard him groan softly.
“Ah, sweet witch, I am nay good at this.”
“Oh, I thought ye were verra good.”
Tormand grinned briefly and then sighed. “I feel the need too strongly to just sit here and trade a few chaste kisses. I have tried, but the hunger rules me. If ye dinnae want to find yourself in my bed verra soon, ye had best go to your bedchamber.” He grimaced. “Mayhap ye should e’en lock the door.”
Morainn hesitated but only for a moment. This was the moment when she made her choice. “I believe I will stay right here unless ye take me elsewhere.”
He moved so fast, she barely had time to catch her breath. Tormand picked her up in his arms and nearly ran from the great hall. Instead of being frightened by his eagerness to get her into his bedchamber and his bed, she felt exhilarated. What would begin tonight could easily end with her crying a great deal in the night while alone in her own bedchamber at the cottage, but she would chance it. For once in her life she was going to take a risk, reach out and grab what she wanted more than she did her next breath, and just hope it stayed in her grasp.