Under the Highlander's Spell Read online

  “Your apology is not necessary, Zia,” Cavan assured her. “Artair explained everything. Now it is just a matter of doing what should have been done.”

  She simply nodded, and actually felt a pang of guilt. If she hadn’t been so stubborn and had listened to Artair, all of this could have been avoided. And Artair probably confided the truth to his family, telling them how he had wanted to wed and she had refused, making her feel guiltier.

  Artair joined her, slipping his arm around her waist and gently drawing her to his side. He leaned close, kissing her cheek and whispering, “We will have our ceremony, the way you wanted it; you have my word.”

  She swelled with love for him, but her smile never surfaced. As soon as she saw Honora cringe she was at her side. “What’s wrong?”

  Cavan hunched down beside his wife and took hold of her hand. “What is it, Honora?”

  “Pain,” she answered both, while cradling her protruding stomach.

  “Has it been steady?” Zia asked, hoping the babe wasn’t demanding to be born. It was too early. Another week and the babe would have a better chance to survive.

  “No, but I haven’t felt right since I woke.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Cavan demanded.

  “That doesn’t matter,” Zia said with a gentle squeeze to his arm.

  He got the message. “Zia is right. What matters are you and the babe. You need to rest.”

  Zia smiled. “Now Cavan is right. Rest is what is best for you at the moment. So let’s get you settled in your bed.”

  Cavan lifted his wife gently and carried her to their bedchambers while everyone tried to follow.

  Zia turned to Artair. “Please, keep Cavan busy for a while so that I may examine his wife without interference. Your mother will help me, and she’ll bring word when it’s all right for Cavan to return.”

  “Zia is right,” Addie said. “He will worry about Honora and she will worry about him and—”

  “Say no more,” Lachlan said. “Artair and I will keep him entertained until you summon him.”

  “Will Honora and the babe be all right?” Artair asked.

  Zia knew that question was on everyone’s mind, and she tried to reassure them. “If the babe can wait at least one week, he will have a better chance, and with rest, Honora should be fit for the delivery.”

  “This is going to be a long week,” Lachlan said.

  Surprisingly, Honora did well and listened to everything Zia told her. She remained abed, and everyone took turns keeping her occupied, while at other times she preferred to do her stitching, sewing garments for the babe.

  Zia spoke with Cavan about his wife every morning and evening, letting him know how well she was doing and keeping him from worrying more than necessary. With only three days until a full week passed Zia was hopeful all would go well.

  The cleric would arrive in two days. No word had been heard from the bishop, and Zia sensed that her grandmother was close. She had hoped that when word was sent for Mave to come help James, her grandmother would also come.

  Zia desperately missed her and their conversations especially about healing. Such discussions helped her to learn and to solve problems. Artair would listen to her talk about various ailments but he hardly had the knowledge to respond with suggestions, though of late she had to admit he had impressed her. He had actually suggested a treatment that worked though he credited her. He had recalled her using it for some other ailment at one of the villages and thought that it might suffice in the present case as well and it had. So he did truly listen with sincere interest when she spoke with him and that pleased her very much.

  Things would be good, all would be well.

  Then why did a feeling of foreboding hang over her?

  “You’re deep in thought,” Artair said, sitting on the bed beside her. “And you look much too tired.”

  Zia laid her head on his shoulder with a sigh. “I am, but it is late and everyone rests well, which means that I can also rest well.”

  He slipped his arm around her and rested his cheek on the top of her head. “This will all pass soon enough and life will be good for us.”

  “I just thought the same myself.”

  “We are of one mind, that is good,” he said.

  She lifted her head. “Do you worry at all?”

  He eased her gently down on the bed and leaned over her. “Know this…I would enter hell itself to see you safe. I will never let anyone harm you, and never—ever—would I let anyone take you from me.”

  Zia had never seen such a vicious scowl on his face. It actually distorted his handsome features and made him appear more feral than human. This was the warrior who resided within him, the one who would fight to the bitter end, and would fight for her.

  She smiled softly and spoke from her heart. “I do not want to leave your side.”

  “You’re not going anywhere,” he assured her with a lingering kiss.

  He needn’t do any more, for her body responded instantly. “It has been too long that you have been inside me.”

  He smiled. “It’s only been two days.”

  “Much too long,” she said, ran her fingers up the back of his scalp and drew his mouth to hers. She tasted him with a hungry need, and he responded in kind. Their last joining had been slow and gentle, but this time they both were in no mood to take things slow. Or perhaps they feared that at any moment someone would knock at the door and their precious time together would end.

  They were naked and rolling on the bed in no time, their limbs entwined and their lips locked in a heated kiss. Zia rose over him and hurried him inside her, but he allowed her only a few minutes before grabbing hold of her waist and swinging her beneath him so he could take command.

  “I love the feel of you,” he whispered on a kiss.

  She could only moan a response lost in the feel of him as he moved powerfully inside her. They were one and would always be, and the thought made their joining all the more powerful and her climax all the more potent as she cried out her pleasure.

  He finished along with her, and wrapped in each other’s arms, they fell into a deep sleep, both of them exhausted.

  An agonizing scream tore them apart, and in seconds and they were both up and dressed flying down the stairs to Cavan and Honora’s bedchamber. They came upon Addie on the way, and Lachlan was already in the hall, wearing only his plaid and looking terrified.

  Cavan threw the door open for them, a look of pure fear on his face. “You have to help her.” He grabbed hold of Zia and dragged her into the room, over to the bed.

  Honora was crying and she reached out for Zia. “The babe. There’s something wrong.”

  Zia took hold of her hand and tried to calm her, but the tension in the room was palpable and not good for Honora.

  “I need all but Addie to leave,” she said, and placed a gentle hand on Honora‘s stomach. “We have a babe to deliver.”

  “I’m not leaving,” Cavan said.

  Artair went to his side and put a hand on his shoulder. “Yes, you are. You need to let Zia do what she does best.”

  “He’s right,” Lachlan agreed. “So please don’t make Artair and me drag you out of here.”

  “That I’d like to see.”

  Everyone turned to see Honora grinning.

  She nodded to her husband. “Go, I promise if I need you or just want you with me, I will send for you.”

  Cavan bent over her and gave her a kiss. “I love you and I will wait for your summons.”

  “I am strong. I can do this,” she assured him.

  He nodded and kissed her again, then leaned next to Zia and whispered, “I don’t care if you must use witchcraft; don’t let my wife and child die.”

  Zia was shocked. Did he really believe her a witch or was it his fear talking?

  “I will do all I can,” she promised, for that was all she truly could do. Sometimes it didn’t matter how hard she fought to heal, to save lives, in the end it wasn’t her choi
ce.

  The men left the room, and Zia got busy along with Addie.

  Servants were summoned so that cauldrons of water could be kept hot in the hearth. Artair retrieved the healing basket kept specifically for deliveries, and stacks of towels and fresh cleaned bedding were kept close.

  “Tell me what you haven’t told me, what I believe you have feared to tell me for some time,” Honora said when it was only she, Addie, and Zia in the room.

  Zia hesitated and attempted to reassure her.

  Honora held up her hand before she could begin. “It’s time for the truth.”

  “Please,” Addie said. “Something has been on your mind about the babe. Honora and I have both seen it.”

  A pain suddenly struck Honora and she yelled out, grabbing Addie’s arm.

  Zia placed her hand to Honora’s stomach and probed for further evidence of what she suspected.

  “What is it?” Honora begged once the pain had passed.

  “I think you carry more than one babe.”

  “Twins?” Honora asked with excitement.

  Zia nodded. “Twins who may not be in the right position for delivery.”

  “Will you be able to do anything to help them?” Addie asked.

  “I can’t say for sure. Only time will tell.”

  “Don’t say anything to Cavan,” Honora said. “He is worried enough. Wait until you know something for certain.”

  “I will discuss it with you, and the decision will be yours,” Zia said. “In the meantime, let’s be prepared for anything.” She turned to Addie. “The bread I asked left to mold, could you please get it?”

  Addie nodded and left.

  Hours passed, the pains remaining too far apart for the birth to be anytime soon. Still Zia wouldn’t leave Honora’s side, especially since she had calmed considerably since the first agonizing scream.

  With the birth apparently hours away, Honora asked to see Cavan. She didn’t want him to worry needlessly, and knew he wouldn’t if he saw that she was doing fine.

  When Cavan entered the room, Zia left, giving husband and wife some privacy, though both were anxious over her departure. She assured them that she would be in the great hall having breakfast with Artair.

  She no sooner sat down beside him than Artair asked, “What did Cavan say to you that upset you?”

  She reached for the pitcher of cider, but he brushed her hand away and filled her tankard. She flavored her bowl of porridge with a drizzle of honey before answering. “He didn’t upset me. He surprised me.”

  “Why was that?”

  “He told me to use witchcraft if it would help save his wife and child.”

  Artair was struck silent.

  “He spoke out of fear, not reason,” she said.

  “I never would expect him to say such a thing,” Artair admitted.

  “Would you use witchcraft if you feared I would die?” she asked, or was he too sensible to believe it even possible?

  “I would do whatever was necessary to save you.”

  “Even believe in witches?” she asked, amazed, for he had made it known that he did not believe in such nonsense.

  “I would believe for you,” he said, and stole a teasing kiss, not giving her a chance to respond.

  She placed her cool hand to his cheek, and the warmth of his flesh sent tingles rushing up her arm. “You really do love me.”

  “You doubted?” he asked, alarmed.

  “No, I’m startled by the depth of your love. It makes it so very real.”

  “More real than I ever thought possible,” he said, and kissed the palm of her hand.

  She shivered from the pleasurable tingles that continued to race through her. “You always excite me.”

  “If only we had time,” he whispered.

  “I must stay with Honora.”

  “I know, but know I will be waiting for you,” he said, nuzzling her neck.

  She giggled. “Believe me, I won’t forget.”

  By mid-afternoon Honora’s pains had subsided, and it worried Zia. She feared it would only prove to be a long laborious time for Honora until the babes were finally ready. And of course she worried too that perhaps there might be something wrong with the babes.

  Only time would tell, and she had plenty of that…or at least she thought she did.

  Addie entered the bedchamber, having gone to see how her sons were doing, and returned with a look of concern.

  “What is it?” Zia asked, her heart already sensing something was seriously wrong. “Has something happened to Artair?”

  “Is Cavan all right?” Honora asked frantically.

  Addie looked to Zia. “Bishop Aleatus arrives by nightfall and requests to meet with you immediately.”

  Chapter 29

  Artair and Cavan climbed the stairs to speak with Zia, while Lachlan and several clansmen were sent to escort the bishop’s caravan the remainder of the way to the keep.

  “We need the cleric’s signature and official seal for this to work,” Cavan said, shaking his head. “And he’s still about two days away.”

  “One and a half if he didn’t stop to rest,” Artair said, hoping the man just might think the same, after all the message sent to him spoke of the immediacy of the situation.

  “We’ll have to find a way—” Cavan stopped, almost bumping into his mother as he turned a curve on the stair.

  “Oh dear,” Addie said, and laid a hand on his shoulder.

  “What’s—”

  The agonizing scream reverberated down the stairs, causing everyone to say a silent prayer for Honora.

  Cavan rushed past his mother, though she remained close on his heels yelling, “Wait! Wait!”

  Artair came up behind them and, entering the bedchamber, almost collided with Cavan, who had stopped abruptly. Zia and Honora were laughing.

  “What goes on here?” Cavan demanded, going straight to his wife.

  “I’ve come up with the solution to the problem,” Honora said proudly. “I intend to scream loud enough for the bishop to realize my dire circumstances, and to force him to see the wisdom in delaying his talk with Zia.”

  “I was just about to go down another level to see if her scream was loud enough when I bumped into you,” Addie said to her son, then turned to Honora. “It was perfect.”

  “I’d say so, since it scared the hell out of me,” Cavan complained, though he smiled at Honora. “Good idea, wife.”

  “Is it feasible?” Artair asked Zia.

  “Women can sometimes take days to birth a babe, often due to complications, which I’m certain any woman asked will confirm,” she said.

  “But Honora is all right? She’ll deliver the babe sooner than a few days, right?” Cavan asked cautiously.

  Honora took his hand. “The babes.”

  “Babes?” Cavan and Artair said in unison.

  “Oh my, I didn’t mean to tell you just yet,” Honora said, though she grinned happily. “I will give you two children.”

  Cavan looked utterly confused. “But you are so tiny, how could you—” He turned directly to Zia. “She will be all right?”

  “So far so good,” Zia said with a firm nod.

  Cavan seemed satisfied with her answer, but Artair knew better. He knew Zia well enough to realize that she would never make a promise she might not be able to keep. And she was informing him that everything looked fine now, but beyond that, she could not say.

  He wanted to talk with Zia alone, not only about Honora’s condition, but about the bishop and what she might face. He walked over to her and took her hand.

  “I’m going to steal my wife for a while,” he said, easing Zia away from the bed. “We’ll be right outside in the hall.”

  “It’s good that you stay close, and it’s good that you refer to her as your wife,” Cavan said with a curt nod that appeared more like a command.

  “Nonsense,” Honora scolded. “Zia will be locked away in here these next couple of days. Take her to the battlements, Artair
, so she can get some fresh air.”

  Zia smiled and Artair thanked Honora, while Cavan scowled but said nothing. Artair grabbed his brother’s cloak from the peg near the door and hurried Zia up the stairs to the battlements.

  “It’s gorgeous,” Zia said and snuggled in Artair’s arms after he wrapped the heavy wool cloak around them.

  “The stark barrenness of the moors can either shiver the soul or still the heart,” he said looking out over the familiar scene that never failed to still his heart. “I’m glad to finally share it with you and glad you feel the same.”

  “How could I not? It’s stunning, and now…” She smiled and kissed his lips softly. “…it’s my home.”

  Artair returned the kiss with a more passionate one wrapping his arms more tightly around her until her body was firm against his and he could feel the entire length of her.

  As he ended the kiss, he whispered, “A home where you will always be safe.”

  She shook her head slowly. “No, it is in your arms where I will always be safe.”

  His heart soared along with his love for her, and he spoke from his heart. “I never expected to love the woman whom I would make my wife as much as I love you. I never realized what it meant to love until you showed me.”

  “You were an apt pupil,” she teased.

  “And I will continue to be.”

  She shook her head. “No, we now teach each other.”

  They kissed again, and Artair realized that if they continued kissing it would certainly lead to them making love, and they needed to talk.

  “I wish there were time—”

  Zia stopped him. “As do I, but we have urgent matters at hand.”

  “Tell me the truth about Honora and the babes,” he said, and smiled. “Two. How wonderful for my brother and her. That is, if all goes well.”

  “I have no reason to believe it won’t, but the babes can’t seem to decide if they’re ready to be born or not, and that worries me. But there is nothing I can do at the moment. Only time will tell, and to be honest, it is better I remain with her and not have to concern myself with speaking to the bishop. But what of the marriage documents? He’ll want to see them right away, won’t he?”