If My Heart Could See You (10 page)

“You give no hint of a Scottish brogue which seems out of place if you are but a peasant from the village, and yet you somehow seem familiar to me as if we have met afore,” he continued tentatively, and saw her give the slightest of smiles. “Surely this is not the case, as I would be hard pressed to forget someone as charming as you.”

“I suppose, coming from the Devil’s Dragon, I should consider your words a compliment, although I find it hard to believe that you give them often,” she teased and gave him an expression that told him she was surprised she had found the nerve to do so.

Encouraged by her words, Dristan urged her closer and was pleased when she came readily into his arms, resting her hands upon his chest. “Tell me your name,
ma cherie
,” he whispered, bending his head and inhaling the scent of her hair, a smell of the fresh sea air. “’Twould give me great pleasure to have it pass from my lips as we converse together.”

She gave a sweet laugh, making his smile broaden in encouragement even as she shivered at his touch. “Converse, you say? Since you have already mentioned your reputation precedes you, my lord, ’tis hardly likely conversing is all you have in mind this day.”

“I would be lying if I said I do not desire to have a taste of your sweet lips beneath mine and all else you would offer,” he told her truthfully but watched in dismay as the spell that had been woven between them was broken with his words. She stepped away from him, covering her face once more. “Surely you would not deny your lord a simple kiss.”

The woman pondered his words and took a hesitant step back as if she knew she had stayed too long. “A kiss is not so simple to a woman’s heart, my lord, hence I would not give them lightly and without thought.”

“Surely you are not wed?”

“Nay, my lord, I am not.”

“Then I do not see the problem if we but share a moment or two of pleasure this morn.”  Dristan reached for her again, but to his irritation found only empty arms as she dodged his outstretched hands. Still he persisted in his efforts to know the maiden further. “Come now, do not be shy. I but wish to know you,” he said, trying again, and got no further than he did but moments afore.

“To what end, Lord Dristan?” she queried tartly, as he watched her become annoyed with him. “I will be no whore for you or any other man nor shall you make me your lady wife. I am but one woman among many to have crossed your path and surely there will be more to follow as you travel about on the king’s business. I will not be used and tossed aside with mayhap a babe in my belly for allowing you to, as you said, share a moment or two of pleasure,” she answered angrily. “Somehow, I think I am worth more than that, although you may not think so.”

Caught off guard by the bitterness in her words, Dristan was about to reply when the sound of racing hoof beats came to his ears and he turned to see the cause. He was put at ease as several of his guardsmen came into view and dismounted with swords drawn as if protecting him from some unseen enemy. He turned back to have further speech with the woman only to find her gone from his sight with only a brief glimpse of her tartan as she disappeared into the forest.

Dristan swore to himself, afore turning towards his men with an enraged glare. Geoffrey sheathed his sword with a knowing smirk set upon his face as did Ulrick and Morgan. Taegan and Turquine began to chuckle but soon stopped with a glare from their lord.

Only Fletcher braved the dragon’s wrath and came to stand next to his lord. “We thought mayhap you made leave of your senses to go riding without your guard. ’Twas most unusual for you to do so, Dristan, but perchance you had a meeting of a more intimate nature,” he dared with a grin.

“I but wished some time unto myself,” Dristan replied sternly.

“I do not think my eyesight was mistaken by taking that form to be anything other than of a pretty young woman. To chance an attack alone is not worth the price for a bit of a romp with a comely wench, my lord,” Fletcher chided knowingly. “Bring her to your chamber if you must or avail yourself to one of the whores already housed at Berwyck. ’Tis much easier to watch your back when we know where you are than if you are missing, and we know not which direction to seek you out.”

Dristan tossed Fletcher a scathing look, causing the man to laugh harder. He dared much and would only have taken the jest from him or Riorden and none other. Knowing he had not heard the last of this, Dristan went to Thor, grabbed the reins, and vaulted into his saddle. As he donned his gloves, he turned to his men with a smile they could only interpret as retribution, coming their way for making sport of their lord.

“Since you men are so concerned with my safety and somehow feel I could not hold my own, we shall ride back to Berwyck and commence to sweating out some valuable time in the lists. Perchance then you will remember who your master is and learn some respect,” Dristan promised dryly.

No one dared to groan, with thoughts of the coming afternoon’s training, with one who would show no mercy, and in unison, they turned their mounts towards home. He allowed himself one brief glance towards the trees where he had last glimpsed his woodland sprite of the forest. He smiled at the memory of how she had felt in his arms and vowed he would somehow find her. What he would do with her when he located her he knew not, but he pledged to himself he would not rest ’til she was his.

Thirteen

“
You did well, Lynet,” Kenna praised the young girl, who held the newly made poultice in her hands. “You will do admirably with further tutelage to heal the ailments of the clan or your own family when the time comes.”

“My thanks for your help, Kenna, and for all you have taught me,” Lynet said, her eyes alight with happiness from her efforts and knowing she had pleased MacLaren’s healer.

Kenna gave a slight chuckle at the look of innocence in the young girl’s eyes. “Now go and remember to tell Dougal to keep the poultice on his arm as long as possible to draw out any poison from his cut. I do not relish having him lose a much needed limb!”

“Aye, Kenna. I will remember.”

Kenna watched the youngest daughter of the old laird leave her side and hurry towards the lists where the sound of the men’s training was already in earnest. Crossing the courtyard, she made her way to the outer bailey so she, too, could perchance catch a glimpse of the knight her heart sought after. ’Twas not hard to have him stand out from all the other men in armor, who were busy training this warm afternoon. She could only marvel the heat of the summer’s day did not seem to dull their enthusiasm to show their liege their skill.

Sir Geoffrey was currently on the jousting field, waiting for another lance to make up for the one that had shattered on his opponent’s armor.
What skill he has
, Kenna thought to herself when she noticed the ever so slight pressure of his knee to turn his steed in the direction he wished the beast to go. Afore she could draw breath, Geoffrey, shield in one hand and a new lance firmly gripped in his other, set his horse into motion. It lunged forward with its huge galloping hooves, and Kenna watched as both knights lowered their lances in unison.

Their two horses met midfield with lances splintering on the breast plates of both knights. Kenna had not realized she had closed her eyes at the contact of both men ’til she heard the loud thud of clanking metal as one knight toppled to the ground. Opening her eyes, she realized that, alas, ’twas her most gallant knight, who now graced the dirt. It took everything within her power not to rush to his side. Their eyes met across the distance between them ’til Kenna blushed at the lazy grin Geoffrey cast her way.

Dristan jumped off Thor’s back and came to Geoffrey’s side with a mighty laugh. “And here I thought you held such promise you would remain topside awhile longer and give me a good day’s sport,” he announced merrily. He held out his hand and assisted Geoffrey to his feet.

“’Twas distracted, my lord,” Geoffrey muttered hoarsely.

“What perchance could distract you so?” Dristan wondered. His gaze searched the yard ’til his eyes came upon Kenna near the wall. “Ah . . . I see. I suppose you must needs rest a spell afore you begin again?”

“Mayhap just a short respite, if my lord would indulge me.”

“Make not a habit of it, Sir Geoffrey,” Dristan retorted.

“Aye, Lord Dristan, and my thanks,” Geoffrey said as he quickened his pace to reach Kenna’s side.

“Do not thank me overly much, Sir Geoffrey, for you will train doubly hard upon your return!” he called laughingly.

Dristan shook his head, realizing how his humor had improved since this morning’s encounter with the unknown beautiful young woman from the beach. ’Twas certainly not the norm that he would allow a knight to delay his training just to have speech with a woman who appeared on the lists. There was no doubt he would need to ensure that women be kept to a minimum during these daily rituals or he would be standing alone with no one to train, having his entire garrison seeking out a comely wench or two as they saw fit. He must be getting soft.

His eye’s searched the combatants who practiced and noticed the MacLaren clan was coming along nicely with the moves he had further instilled in their handling of their broadswords. He even had enjoyed swinging Ian’s mighty claymore and had commissioned the blacksmith to forge one for himself. He looked forward to feeling the hilt in his hands so he might, too, become proficient with such a weapon of war.

’Twas while his eyes were scanning the lists that he came upon the form of Aiden, finally emerging from the barbican gate to join the men in practicing their skills. The lad was met by Ian and the two were having fierce words, seemingly not pleasing to Aiden’s captain. ’Twas clear Ian was not about to be silenced by the boy’s argument. Still, their words amongst themselves were not what perplexed Dristan; ’twas the manner in which they spoke, as if they were about some intrigue that was not to be shared.

Dristan was irked due to the lateness of the day, to see the lad so tardy and keeping hours that seemed to suit only himself. The boy finally placed his helmet over his filthy face and then had the gall to raise his fist at his captain while still continuing their argument.
Merde
. . . did not the boy ever wash himself? He swore he had yet to see Aiden with a fresh face to actually make out his features clearly.

With thoughts of reprimanding the lad for the filth he continually lived with on his body and to get to the heart of the matter between those two, Dristan reached for his sword. Swinging it afore him, he marveled at the speed in which he did so. It seemed as light as a feather in his hands today, although he knew most would not even be able to lift such a blade as this. ’Twas as if the sword sang to his senses, spinning a web of magic over him so that he might remain victorious. ’Twas a song within him he had heard many a time afore. Even as the sun reflected off the engravings on its blade, it seemed as if the large ruby placed in its hilt winked at him. It whispered to its master to continue seeking the glory due him as the king’s favorite champion and knight.

Sheathing his blade in its scabbard at his side, he went to make his way to Aiden but was distracted by the site of yet another woman on his lists.
Mon dieu
was he to be plagued all the long day with women who were where they did not belong? He called to Lynet and motioned for her to join him, and saw her slightly crestfallen face as she rose from her aid to Dougal and came to his side.

“My lord,” she whispered shyly, bobbing a short curtsey.

He looked down at her with her bent head. “Follow me,” he ordered harshly, and she fell into step behind him.

He sauntered across the field, whilst his men cleared a path, not wanting to fall prey to his ire. A piercing glare in an unspoken command had all returning to their work with now eager abandon in the hopes their lord would not find them lacking. He strode past Aiden, who quickly turned from him and all but ran to the lists to start his training. Still Dristan continued on past his garrison, who continued to train with various weapons of war. ’Twas not ’til he came to stand afore Kenna that he halted his stride, and with a brief flick of his hand, Geoffrey returned to the lists, as well.

Kenna gave a slight curtsey and stared at her liege lord but said not a word. She did, however, notice Lynet’s unease that perchance she had done something to displease him. Kenna knew for the young girl there could be no greater punishment than to have some unknown offense hurt her feelings, for she was tender hearted. She gave a brief motion of her eyes to the young lady, who did not hesitate to comply with Kenna’s unspoken words as she came immediately to her side.

“How may we serve you, my Lord Dristan?” Kenna asked contritely.

“Harrumph . . . that is indeed a mystery is it not Kenna?” he drawled in irritation.

“Something offends you my liege?”

“That, too, seems an understatement.”

Kenna gave him a smile of understanding whilst he looked out upon his men. “What pray tell can we, as your most humble servants, do to change the disposition of such an ominous mood of the castle’s dragon lord?”

“You dare to mock me?” he said, aghast, his brows furrowed in fury.

Kenna’s laughter rang out in the air, causing a curse from the Devil’s Dragon to spew forth from his lips afore they formed a grim line across his features.

She knew he waited for some form of apology to come from his healer, but she gave him none. She was not sure how much more she should tease him.

“You do not help my sorely vexed mood, Kenna.” His answer was enough for her to realize she should not push him too much further.

“Somehow I do not think any words that may part from my lips will change your poor humor.”

“I am displeased,” he answered sourly.

“All can clearly observe that, my lord,” she merely replied, “hence your knights scatter afore you so they, too, may not be within your path and feel the scorching heat of your temper.”

She knew her liege still had an expectation of her request for forgiveness. Kenna only continued to smile at him ’til he focused his gaze instead on Lynet and frowned, further showing his dismay. She gave a gentle nudge to the girl at her side and watched as Lynet’s smirk of humor upon her visage quickly vanished.

“I do not care for women on my lists, Kenna. They create an unnecessary distraction for my men,” he revealed finally.

Kenna nodded her understanding of the situation. “I hear your words, my liege. ’Twas just that Dougal was in need of a poultice for his injury and Lady Lynet needed the practice.”

Dristan’s brows rose in surprise. “You have the gift of healing, girl?” he inquired.

Lynet’s eyes seemingly sparkled in delight. “So ’twould seem, my Lord Dristan.”

He pondered her for some time ’til he came to a decision. “Mayhap your talent then lay in another direction,
ma petite
, than mending blankets for my army, although I am sure the men appreciate your assistance,” he declared. He saw her enthusiasm yet held up his hand to deter her words. “However . . . women on my field causes my knights to have their thoughts turn elsewhere besides their training. Lest called, I will send the men to you, Kenna, to tend their ills.”

“As you will,” Kenna replied, with a slight bow of her head.

“See to teaching Lady Lynet all you know,” he continued. “If she in truth becomes half the healer you appear to be, Berwyck castle will be twice blessed.”

“I will see to it,” she declared, and whispered a few words to Lynet, who curtsied to Dristan and scurried away in happiness to do Kenna’s bidding. Kenna herself turned to leave ’til she heard Dristan’s words.

“Another moment, Kenna,” he said with familiarity. “How is Hugh progressing with his healing? Is he well enough to begin training again?”

“Aye, he is, my liege,” she said carefully, “and even now ready’s himself to join you hence.”

“But . . . ?”

Kenna sighed as she observed Dristan earnestly and then spoke frankly. “I have seen things, my lord, and beg you to be careful with Hugh of Harlow. I do not trust him and feel he will do more harm than good once he is fully recovered.”

“He is no threat to me, Kenna. Do not worry,” he replied smugly. “If you must worry, then worry what I shall do if you continue to put strange herbs in my wine.”

“My lord?” she questioned warily.

“You know that which I speak of. Why else would my thoughts be wandering to else but to the training of my garrison and the clan?”

Kenna was surprised he believed she would actually drug him. No longer able to mask the puzzlement that he would think such of her, her face turned to mild curiosity as to his own thoughts. She surprised him when she reached out and touched his arm. With her eyes closed, she swayed slightly and tightened her grip to prevent her falling while multiple visions raced across her mind. She stood there for some time ’til she at last opened her eyes and gave him a look that she could tell immediately put him on edge. She was not shocked he gazed at her warily, for ’twas a look she had become accustomed to from those she read. He became uneasy when she seemed to be able to see into his very soul.