Part 11 (2/2)
If only 'twas so simple. ”Should the men return to their village with no remembrance, 'twill convince any who hold doubts that I have cast a spell to erase their memories. Alas, they too will raise their swords and join in to try to catch and burn me at the stake.”
His mouth tightened. ”None will harm you!”
The determination within his voice left her shaken. ”Aedan,” she urged, ”there must be another way.”
He eyed her a long moment, his expression dark with anger; then his body relaxed a degree. ”We will leave here. Before we go, we will convince them you are dead.”
If they could, it would be an immense relief. ”How?”
”The cliffs are but a few leagues to the west. We will travel there. Then, you will toss your clothes over the edge into the sea. Once we have hidden, you will scream, and the men in search of you will come running.”
Simple, yet effective. ”With my clothes floating atop the waves, they will believe that guilt-laden, I have jumped to my death.”
”Aye. More important, they will end their search and report to the others that you have died.”
”And what about the false evidence you were to leave to convince your betrayer you are dead?” Rowan asked.
”Once the men searching for you have departed, we will return, and I will finish the task.”
A man's voice echoed nearby.
Aedan caught her hand. ”Hurry.” With keen night vision, he guided her through the forest. Soon, the rich sting of salt grew in the air, the ground soft with the moisture from the sea. He pushed aside the limb of a thick fir, and she gasped.
” 'Tis beautiful.”
Cliffs, battered by wind and time, stood illuminated by the moonlight. Blasts of white erupted against the ragged stone where the surf pounded the sheer wall of rock below.
”Aye, 'tis a bonny sight, one I never tire of.” He led her forward. Near the edge, he released her, nodded. ”Go ahead and remove your garb.”
However foolish, the thought of disrobing before Aedan left her shy.
Tenderness touched his face. ”After the ways I have touched you, kissed you everywhere, there is no reason to be bashful.”
Heat burned her cheeks. ”Must you read my thoughts?”
He gave a soft chuckle. Always would she amaze him. Aedan lifted her chin with his thumb, bent to place a soft kiss upon her mouth. ”I will not look.”
Seconds later, the whisper of clothes sounded in the night, awakening images of her naked within his mind. His body ached to take her again, her sweet taste still warm upon his lips.
”I am done,” Rowan said.
”Cast your clothes over the edge.”
The flutter of clothes melded with the rush of waves.
His body hardened. Stealing but one glimpse of her lush body, he covered her nakedness with his cloak, then led her to the nearby bushes. ”Now scream.”
Rowan's yell pierced the night.
”Over there!” a distant voice called.
The thud of footsteps grew. Between the ripple of leaves, torchlight cast slashes of yellow upon the sway of gra.s.s and jagged rock.
”The tracks lead this way,” a man snarled, his burr deep.
”Aye,” replied another. ”Toward the cliffs.”
Fractured torchlight illuminated the men as they drew near, their faces mottled with anger.
Rage churned within Aedan as he struggled against the urge to kill those who would dare harm Rowan. Though he'd promised not to touch them, neither would he risk these men's catching sight of her. Within his mind he beckoned the air, thick with moisture from the sea.
Around them mist grew, thickening to a slow, subtle sweep of white.
The nearest Scot rubbed his arms, his scraggly beard accenting a weathered face lined with a grimace. ”Blasted cold tonight.”
”Aye,” another man replied, shrewd eyes scanning his surroundings, ”and looking as if 'twill be foggy as well.”
Rowan stiffened.
Fury wrapped around Aedan. These are the men who have been chasing you, aye?
Surprise widened her eyes. We can speak through our thoughts?
He nodded.
The men, are they the ones after you?
Aye. The b.a.s.t.a.r.ds, 'twould sate many an urge to slay them. He rubbed Rowan's arms, waited. Once the men saw the garments floating on the surf and departed for their clan, he would take her far away.
”Step with care, lads,” called a man leading the group who had a deep scar slashed across his lower jaw. ”I can hear the pounding of water. The cliffs are near.”
A redheaded man close to the carved rock lifted his torch, the shudder of flames casting harsh shadows against his face. ”The edge is over here.” He took several cautious steps, paused and leaned forward.
”Do you see anything?” called a man farther to the back.
”Aye,” the redheaded man answered. ”A woman's gown floats upon the waves.”
The man with the scraggly beard halted before the edge. He peered over, grunted. ” 'Twas the la.s.s's scream we heard when she jumped.”
”Looks as if the witch killed herself,” the man with the scar across his jaw grumbled. ”Saves us the blasted trouble.”
”Do you think she's dead?” a tall man asked as he moved to stand beside the others.
Silence descended upon the shoddy group, and Rowan tensed at Aedan's side. He covered her hand with his, gave a subtle mental push to the tall man holding doubt.
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