True Highland Spirit (35 page)

Bumping into her quarry was not part of her plan.

“Ow!” said Morrigan, tripping over a large object. The large object in question grabbed her throat and throttled her to the floor.

“Name yourself!” growled Dragonet.

“Morrigan,” she rasped.

Dragonet released her at once. “Morrigan? Wh-what are ye doing here? You gave me a fright.”

“I gave
ye
a fright!”

“Did I hurt you? I thought you were trying to attack me.”

“No, I came to… well, I wanted to… oh hell, this isna the way it was supposed to happen.” Morrigan sat up on the floor of the tent which, considering the mass of blankets, had formed Dragonet’s bed.

“Why are you here?” asked Dragonet. She could not see him in the inky blackness, but his voice was close.

“Are we alone?”

“Yes.”

“I thought you would be. The duke and his knights are staying in the farmhouse down the way.”

“Yes, they have found for themselves better accommodations.”

“And left ye here alone.”

“I chose it.”

“Aye, I know. I gave away my last piece of gingerbread to discover it, and I decided to come here and see you and spend the rest of the night with you because I talked to MacLaren and I know what you said, and I feel the same way; even though I know we canna be together forever, at least we can be together tonight.” Morrigan spoke in a great rush of words.

Everything was silent for a moment, and Morrigan held her breath waiting for Dragonet’s response. She had practiced seductive things to say, but everything spilled out in the most tumble-down way. She wondered if he would notice if she just snuck out.

“You gave away your last gingerbread?”

“Aye.”

“You gave away the gingerbread Alys sent?”

“How did you know Alys sent me gingerbread?”

“She sent some to me too.”

Morrigan reached for him in the darkness. “Do you have any left?”

“Living with three other knights? It was gone before the sun rose the next day.”

“Pity.”

“Yes.”

Silence again.

“You did not sneak in here to steal my gingerbread, I think,” said Dragonet.

“Nay.”

“You came because you spoke to MacLaren?”

“Shuh tem.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Ye said it to me, when we… the last time… in the cave. Ye said it.”

“Ah,
je
t’aime
,” said Dragonet. “Did I say it?”

“Aye. At the end. Ye said a lot of words in French. MacLaren translated it for me.”

“You told
MacLaren
about us?”

“Nay, only had him translate.”

“Why did you not ask me?”

“I was afraid ye would not tell me the truth. What you said about loving me, did ye mean it?” Morrigan held her breath. Silence again filled the darkness.

“Yes,” said Dragonet finally. “I meant it.”

“Truly?” Morrigan wished her voice had not squeaked when she said it. She was trying hard to be a sophisticated lady of the world who boldly went to her lover’s tent. Squeaking could hardly be part of that.

“And you. What are your feelings?” Dragonet’s voice was soft.

“I am here. That should tell ye everything ye need to know.” Morrigan reached toward him and found a thigh. She ran her hand up his leg.

“It does not.” He grabbed her hand and held it fast. “
Je
t’aime. J’adore
. It means I love and adore you. It cannot change anything between us, but I would like to know how you feel about me.”

“I love you more than I have words to express. I would not be here otherwise. What I truly want is a life wi’ ye. Since that canna be, I choose to have one night.”

“Forgive me, but did we not already have one night?”

“I would like a night that is not about saving my life. One where I can actually feel my fingers, and the pain of my thawing toes doesna ruin all else. I think what we shared has enough merit to repeat. Dammit, if I am going to be punished for the sin at least I’d like to actually feel what I’ve done.”

Morrigan reached out and put her hand on his chest. His breathing was shallow and quick. “I do no’ think ye are immune to my charms, such as they are.”

“No, I am not immune. And yes, your charms are considerable. In truth I have wanted you in my bed since before we… er… kept warm in the cave. I tell you the truth, you have ruined celibacy for me.”

“Should I apologize? That must be verra hard.”

“Quite.”

“Ye shall no’ see me after this. Tonight will be our good-bye.” Morrigan wrapped her arms around his neck and drew closer so she was almost in his lap. He was wearing a linen nightshirt against the cold, but his skin was hot.

“Morrigan, I want you.” He pressed her closer. “You can feel how much I want you. But I took a vow not to do this.”

“Ye were only twelve.”

“It does not matter. Also, I do not wish…” He held her closer, so close she could hardly draw breath. “I want you so much. I have dreamed of this so many times. But I do not wish to leave you in the same state my father left my mother.”

“You will not—”

“I do not wish to leave you, but I must. It is not in my power to ask for your hand in marriage. If we were to conceive a child, I would be no better than my father. I cannot do this to you. As much as I love you and as much as I want you, I cannot hurt you.” He tried to push her away, but she was determined not to be repelled.

Morrigan laid her head against his shoulder. “Ye winna hurt me. I promise ye.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Tonight is all I have. Tomorrow is war.” Morrigan sighed. She unpinned her cloak and removed her boots.

“Are you removing your clothes?” asked Dragonet in a tight voice.

“Aye. I’m cold. I am going to join ye under the covers.”

“I do not think…”

“Good. Dinna think. Better for both of us.”

“Morrigan, this is a very poor idea. I should probably ask you to leave. I… what are you wearing?”

“Nothing.” Morrigan snuggled beside him under the mountain of blankets. “Why are ye wearing a nightshirt?”

“It is freezing tonight.”

“Ye dinna feel cold anymore.” Morrigan snaked her hand under his nightshirt. His resistance was easily overcome.

“No. But, Morrigan—”

“Stop thinking. I want just one night. That is all I ask.”

“Please, do not turn me into someone that I would despise. If I lay with you tonight, then I am no better than the father who spawned me and rejected me, even as he used me. I would leave knowing that if I had truly loved you, I could not have acted in a way to cause you pain. Do not rob me of this love… sometimes it is all I have left.” Dragonet’s voice cracked in the darkness.

Morrigan stilled and put her hand over his heart. “Do not worrit over the future for me. Tomorrow I face the English and I… I expect to be dead by tomorrow eve.”

“No!”

“I have done a lot of thinking. I even tried praying. I am at peace with this. Fighting is the one thing I know how to do. Everything else I’ve attempted in my life has been a failure. But taking up a sword, charging into battle, those are things I know I can do. Maybe I can turn the tide. Maybe I can save my people from English rule. Maybe I canna do it, but I know I must try.”

“You must not sacrifice yourself.”

“But that is the best part. If I do sacrifice myself and die for a worthy cause, mayhap God would look favorably upon me and I could even find forgiveness.”

“No, Morrigan—”

“Listen, I have it all worked out. I want to have, well to go to bed with ye like husband and wife. I know that is a sin since we canna marry and ye’re a monk and all, but if I sacrifice myself tomorrow maybe I can win forgiveness for this and all the other nasty things I’ve done in my life. And it winna be yer fault, because I am seducing ye. See, is it not a goodly plan?”

“Morrigan—”

“I mean, not a good plan, since I am trying to get away wi’ sin, but it works, no?”

“Morrigan, your forgiveness is not dependent on you, it is dependent on God’s son. Remember the burial cloth we found? What more can you add to redemption than the death of God’s own son?”

Morrigan shook her head in the darkness. She could not believe anyone, let alone God’s son, would die for her. It was not possible. “No, not me. I do not deserve saving, not in the least.”

“He took the punishment of the damned. He died for the forgiveness of sinners.”

Morrigan lay beside him considering his words. She could not imagine a more gruesome death than what Jesus suffered on the cross. What more could she add to that? Nothing.

Nothing.

She breathed deep. “I will need to see a priest early tomorrow morn. I will have much to confess.” Perhaps she could be forgiven. Morrigan smiled. It was a happy thought.

“Then you will return home now?”

“Nay. I shall still fight and die. I dinna fear death now. Never thought I’d go to heaven. ’Tis a nice place, I warrant.”

Dragonet propped himself up on an elbow and gave her shoulder a small shake. “Morrigan. You cannot throw away your life.”

“I am no’ throwing it away. I am living to the full. Fighting is all I am good for. It is all I have. Without it, I am nothing. I can use it to help my clan, all the clans. This is what I was born to do.”

“Please Morrigan. Please take your men and go home. Please.”

Morrigan put her hand on his chest, feeling the solid beating of his heart. “I must stay. There is naught for me at home. I am sorry, Dragonet… Jacques. I hope ye can understand. This is all I have. I must join the fight.”

“Morrigan…” Dragonet put a hand to her cheek and stroked up to her head.

“Careful o’ my hair pin. Ye dinna want to prick yerself.”

“Almost forgot.” He snatched his hand away. “I cannot let you die. You cannot ask this of me.”

“What I ask is for one night wi’ ye, as if we were husband and wife. I ken it can never be, but I would wish it—”

“Me also.”

“Being wi’ ye, I feel alive. Ye save me from… me. I need ye tonight. I need ye to save me.”

“To save your life I would do anything.”

“Save me.”

Dragonet wrapped his arms around her as his lips found hers. He pulled her beside him and kissed her until her toes curled with delight. When he finally allowed her to gasp for breath, she pulled his nightshirt up, running her fingers over his trim, muscular stomach. He had a body that made her hot inside. He stopped kissing her neck for a moment and allowed her to lift his shirt over his head and away. He rolled back and pulled her on top of him.

She moaned softly at the pleasure of having so much of her touch so much of him. Unlike before, when much of her body had been numb from cold, this time she could feel everything. He was warm and, in certain places, undeniably hot. She would have no need to encourage any response this time.

She had a sudden desire to take him right then. She could straddle him and ride him like… she blushed in the dark at her own thoughts and grew suddenly shy. Neither being a common state for her.

“I dinna ken what I am doing,” she confessed.

“It is working for me.”

“Aye, I can feel this thing attacking my stomach.”

“It is not after your stomach.”

Morrigan laughed, giggled actually, though she would never admit to such an undignified sound. “What do I do now?”

“My only experience, it has been you.”

“Ye’re no help.”

“Sorry. What if I did this?” He moved his hands down her back until he cupped her backside. He massaged her with strong hands, working slowly toward her inner thighs.

“Yes. Yes, that might work. That might… oh!”

He stopped. “Oh? Oh bad or oh good?”

“Oh good. Dinna stop, do that again.”

“Um… what did I do? That?”

“No.”

“This?”

“Oh, definitely not.”

“I am sorry, but it is dark and this is unfamiliar territory. I am not sure I can—”

“YES!”

“Right, this here?”

“Yes, oh yes.”

Inspired by the sensations he was building in her, she began to move her hips against him. She allowed the sensations building inside to take control. Her breathing was fast, and her heart raced along with determination. She was chasing something. She needed release.

“Morrigan,” he rasped. “I need you. I need you now.”

She sat up and angled herself to accept him. Slowly she eased herself down. “Is this… good?”

He made an odd sound with a strained voice.

She could not see him in the dark. “Ye dinna like?”

“
Je
t’adore
…” He began speaking in rapid French, and Morrigan decided it was a happy tirade.