Part 6 (2/2)
Whatever the path that had brought her to accept him, she was committing herself to be his. Nothing else mattered.
EIGHT.
G wynne leaned into Ballister's embrace, shaking with reaction. She had done it-she's asked the man to marry her, and he had accepted. Earlier, she'd been petrified with nerves, wondering if he would call, and if he did, whether she would have the courage to speak. Now the die was cast, and the relief from uncertainty was enormous.
”My sweet Gwyneth. My lady of suns.h.i.+ne.” He cupped her chin between his hands and raised her face for a kiss.
For an instant she felt the terror of blood and death that she had experienced before, but this time she was prepared. Earlier in the day Bethany had taught her a mental trick for dealing with painful thoughts, so she visualized tossing the horrific images into a lead casket, then slammed the lid of the casket shut to confine the horror.
To her surprise, after a moment of disorientation, the trick worked. She was no longer paralyzed by shock, and from what Bethany said, she should be able to train her mind to automatically channel away the images.
That left her free to experience the pa.s.sion of the man she was taking as her husband. His mouth was warm, compelling, and the hardness and power of his muscular body sent languor melting through her limbs. Odd to think that this newness and exploration would soon become known and familiar. But never ordinary.
As she slid her arms around his neck, she sensed the control behind his hungry embrace. She was grateful for that, because his unbridled pa.s.sion might have incinerated her. She wondered if her desire could ever match his. Surely not-the intensity of his nature was part of what both attracted and intimidated her. Even restrained pa.s.sion weakened her knees and dazed her mind. Never had she experienced such intense aliveness, or such blinding need.
She wasn't even aware that they had moved until he ended the kiss and she realized that they were sprawled on the sofa, her body lying across his with embarra.s.sing intimacy. His voice husky, he whispered, ”How soon can we be married? I'd wed you today if I could.”
Returned to her senses, she pulled away and tucked herself into a corner of the sofa, not touching him. ”I . . . I will need more time. Perhaps in a month. Or two?”
He clasped her hand, his thumb caressing the sensitive flesh of her inner wrist. ”I don't want to rush you, and not only because I fear that you will change your mind.” He smiled ruefully. ”But I must return to Scotland as soon as possible. Falconer is one of the best scryers in Britain, and he says rebellion is imminent. I must be there to lead and guide my clansmen.”
As she considered how long it would take to organize a wedding and pack her belongings, she brushed back her damp hair, thinking it was uncomfortably hot. Then she realized the heat wasn't only from that scalding kiss. The sun had come out and was pouring through the window to warm the sofa. ” Did you make the clouds disappear?”
He looked out the window, startled. ”I believe I did. I was so happy that I probably burned away every cloud in the Thames Valley. You have an alarming effect on me, Gwynne. If I'm not careful, after our marriage I'll turn Scotland into a desert.”
She laughed, then turned serious. ”I know so little about your homeland. Nothing about your family, your home, what my life will be like.”
”Dunrath is quite possibly the most beautiful place on earth. Not that I'm biased, of course.” He gave her a teasing smile. ”The castle is ancient and impregnable. In more turbulent times, it was besieged often but never conquered. The glen lies between Highlands and Lowlands, not quite belonging to either. That suits us, I think. As Guardians, the Macraes of Dunrath try to maintain loyalty to a larger cause than just the clan. It's not always easy.”
”I've heard that Scots are loyal to the death.”
”And often loyal to a fault.” He sighed. ”Too many of my stubborn countrymen will let themselves be flayed alive rather than admit that they might be wrong, or that there might be a better way to resolve a problem. I try to provide an example of common sense.”
”A man who lives in a drafty, ice-cold castle talks of common sense?”
He grinned. ”It's not so bad as that. Some of the rooms have been fixed up to be quite comfortable.”
She suspected that what seemed comfortable to a Scot would have her wrapped in blankets and s.h.i.+vering by a fire. No doubt she would get used to it. ”I've read of Dunrath in Guardian memoirs. It's exciting to think that I shall be living in the home of Isabel de Cortes. She has long been my heroine, you know. I've read that when she and Adam Macrae quarreled, all of Scotland rocked.”
”She and Adam were my three times great-grandparents.” Ballister raised his hand to show a ma.s.sive sapphire ring. ”Queen Elizabeth gave them both rings as recognition of their service against the Spanish Armada. This ring was Adam's and is always worn by the chieftain of the Macraes of Dunrath. Isabel's ring is set with a ruby. It will be yours after we are wed.”
”I'll have Isabel's ring?” Gwynne exclaimed, surprised and delighted. Isabel de Cortes had been a London merchant's daughter of Spanish Marranos stock. Despite her mundane origins, she had been one of the great mages of her era. Not only had she studied with John Dee, Queen Elizabeth's legendary alchemist, she had brought fresh wild magic to the British Guardians.
Gwynne recognized that Ballister should have found a woman like Isabel-a wife who was his equal. But since he wanted Gwynne, she must hope that Isabel's ring would lend a little strength. ”If you had told me of the ring earlier, I might have accepted you at once,” she said with a smile.
”I wish I'd known. That would have saved me much grief.” His gray eyes were full of warmth. ”I am so proud, so honored, that you will be my wife. Even if you did have to be talked into it by your sister-in-law.”
”She thought that all I needed was an excuse to abandon my anxiety, and I think she was right, Ballister.” That was the truth, if not the whole truth.
”Call me Duncan.”
”Duncan,” she said, trying to include a faint Scottish lilt in her p.r.o.nunciation. The hard edge of the name suited him.
”Well done! May I call you Gwynne now?”
”I think I might allow that.” She felt breathless and silly and happier than she could ever remember. It would be so easy to fall in love with Duncan Macrae. She was already halfway there. . . .
A cool thread of reason interfered with her happiness. Her task was to balance Ballister-Duncan- and prevent him from triggering a disaster. That would be impossible unless she kept a small part of herself reserved from him. She must not become a dazzled bride. She hadn't realized how hard a task that would be.
Not wanting Duncan to sense her withdrawal, she asked, ”Was Isabel de Cortes vital to Adam Macrae's success at destroying the Armada? I've seen no suggestion in the chronicles that she was a weather worker.”
”She wasn't, but she was able to channel some of her tremendous power to Adam. Otherwise, he could never have conjured a tempest so immense.” He touched her hair. ”Now that I can call you Gwynne, when can I see you with your hair unpowdered? I've been longing to admire your natural beauty.”
”It is not beautiful hair, but I suppose that you must see it sooner or later. You will understand then why I powder it.” She frowned, thinking of all that must be done. ”I'll speak to Bethany about how quickly a small wedding can be organized. Will you allow me a week?”
He hesitated. ”I can feel Scotland tugging, but less time would not do the occasion justice. A week from today, then?”
She nodded, excited and a little dazed. In a week she would be wed again, and she didn't need scrying ability to know this marriage would be very different from her union with Emery. ”Who has taken care of Dunrath during your travels?”
”My sister, Jean. She's much younger than I, only twenty-one, but already she's a better steward of the land than I will ever be. You'll like her, I'm sure.”
”Is Jean a mage?”
”She has her share of power, but she hasn't spent the time needed to develop her gifts to the fullest.” He released Gwynne's hand and began trailing his fingers up her arm, sparking tingles of excitement.
Gwynne hoped fervently that Jean would marry and leave Dunrath as soon as possible; the last thing the new lady of the house needed was a magically gifted sister-in-law who might resent relinquis.h.i.+ng power to her brother's wife. ”There will be so much to learn. I know how to run an English household, but not a Scottish one.”
”Scots tend to be less formal. Clans are family groups, after all, so there's a natural equality not found in England.” He grinned. ”I'm told that when Mary Queen of Scots returned from France to take up her throne, she was shocked by clan chiefs who called her 'La.s.s.' You are warned.”
”I'm not royal, and I neither want nor expect deference. I like the idea of a society of natural equality. ” She had never become comfortable with the subservience she received after marriage made her a countess. In her heart, she was still the librarian's daughter. Perhaps Scotland really would suit her, as Duncan had once said.
She hoped so, given that she would be spending the rest of her life there.
”Before we announce the happy news to Lady Beth, shall we have another kiss?”
Not waiting for Gwynne to reply, Duncan closed the s.p.a.ce between them and drew her into his arms again. She had just enough time to ready her defense against the blast of painful images. Then she let herself tumble into the kiss. The world disappeared, leaving only the sensuality and the sweet rush of desire. With this much pa.s.sion, there would be no need to worry about freezing in a Scottish winter. . . .
”Excuse us.” The words were apologetic, but the voice wasn't.
Gwynne blushed and pulled from Duncan's embrace. He gave her an intimate smile before turning in an unhurried fas.h.i.+on. Entering the room were Lady Bethany and Lord Falconer, their expressions grim. Surely not because they disapproved of a kiss?
Duncan stood, keeping one of her hands in his clasp. ”It is fitting that you two are the first to know that Gwynne has honored me by agreeing to be my wife.”
<script>