Under The Highlander's Spell Part 17

I doubt hes given up. I wouldnt be surprised if he lurks in the woods waiting to talk to each of the elders alone and convince them of your magical powers.

He laughed joyously as if they had just shared a funny tale, slipped his hands around her waist to swing her up in the air and bring her back down for a kiss.

We need to wed before we reach my home, he murmured as he set her feet back on the ground.

Zia said nothing until the cottage door closed behind them. You cant mean to wed a witch.

He cringed. Be careful what you claim.

There are those who will believe I am, and once the church sends someone to investigate" She shivered and dropped the bouquet on the table. I could understand being accused of witchcraft if I made people suffer, but they accuse me because I make people well. She shook her head. It makes no sense. A true healer would never intentionally hurt anyone.

She pushed past Artair when he tried to embrace her, angry that she needed to defend her skills. Theres no magic to my potions.

To the less knowledgeable, it appears magic, he said, and reached out to tug her into his arms. But they have not seen what I have.

And what is that? she asked, her anger melting away as his powerful hands kneaded her arms.

All the hard work you do in preparation of tending the ill. Your healing basket doesnt miraculously fill itself. Your potions dont magically mix. Your healing plants dont grow without care. Your knowledge doesnt expand without study. You dont make a remarkable healer by casting a spell. You work for it.

Zia was stunned by his words. He had noticed how much work it took to be a good healer, and he praised rather than criticized.

I like watching you work, he said. You have a caring touch and soothing words to offer the ill, and you do it with patience.

She melted into his embrace. You do know I dont always have patience.

Really? He looked startled, then laughed.

She poked him in the chest. I have patience when necessary.

So Ive noticed.

What else have you noticed? she asked.

That you dont always see reason, which is why you need me.

She sighed dramatically. How have I ever managed without you?

He rolled his eyes upward and shook his head. Heaven only knows. He kissed her quick. But you neednt worry any longer. I will look after you.

I know you will, and thats what worries me.

Chapter 16.

Artair kissed her lovingly, wanting to kiss away all her worries. We will wed and you will be safe.

Zia slipped out of his arms as he tried to hold onto her, and it felt to him like a punch to his gut, a sense of deep loss overwhelming him. He wanted to reach out, grab hold of her and make sure she remained his. Instead he calmed his thoughts and confronted the situation more reasonably.

Its the best solution to our problem, he said.

Why do you want to continue to place yourself in harms way for me? she asked.

A good question, he thought, and until he had a good answer, she was staying with him.

Honora could use your help, and you can use mine. Id say thats a good exchange. Besides, you helped heal my brother Ronan. For that alone I and my family owe you.

So you wed me to repay me? she asked with a quick shake of her head.

It doesnt hurt that were attracted to each other.

Zia threw her hands up in the air. You owe me and were attracted to each other"

Youre not denying it, are you?

No, Im not, but Ive made it very clear why I will marry"

Love, he said, and nodded. And given time"

No! she shouted, and shook her finger in his face. Love first, marriage second. Its that or nothing.

Youre not being sensible. You need protection, and I can give it to you. I can also give you a good life.

I already have a good life, she said adamantly.

He folded his arms over his chest and shook his head. You constantly live with danger. That is no life.

She poked him in the chest. My life. My choice.

You can object all you want, and you can poke me all you want, but you will marry me, he said confidently.

She stepped back away from him and mimicked his confident stance. No, I will not marry you. We will simply continue to pretend were wed.

That wont do. You heard that fool of a messenger say he will send someone to my home for proof.

She shrugged. Well address that matter when the time comes.

Then youre willing to live with me as my wife once we arrive at my home? he asked with a grin.

So far our pretense has worked, she answered, with her own wide smile. I dont see why it cannot continue to do so.

He walked over to her and took hold of her shoulders. Did you forget the other night in the river? What happens when you share my bed?

Her face shadowed with doubt. She knew as well as he did that they would be intimate, and soon. And he knew she wanted him as much as he wanted her. So why did she fight it?

Wed me and be done with it. We are good for each other, he said, trying to make her see reason, though he knew there was little chance of that. She was tenacious, which proved useful at times, and other times simply got in her way.

She sighed heavily and battered her lashes. Your romantic prose takes my breath away.

Unfortunately, at the moment there is no time for romance. Reason takes precedence here.

I will not be bullied into wedding you, she said firmly. We will continue to pretend to be wed"

Until it is necessary that we do wed, he finished.

If ever, she added with a shrug.

He knew better, but then she would see, given time, that marriage was the best solution. He didnt intend to keep reminding her. She would realize it eventually, and he believed"or was it merely a hope?"that she would see the wisdom in such a choice.

We leave at first light tomorrow, he said.

Good. That will give me time to leave instructions with the women and visit with those recovering.

He took hold of her hand, bringing it to his chest. I think it would be wise if I remained by your side until we leaveor rather, until we reach my home.

He watched as her defensiveness melted as quickly as spring snow. You truly are concerned, she said, easing closer.

Finally you realize that, he replied teasingly, and slipped his arms around her.

I realize more than you know. It is you who does not know what you commit to.

She settled herself in the crook of his arm, and he coiled it around her and rested his cheek on her head. Her hair was soft, the scent fresh, and he wished only to linger in the moment.

A rapid knock at the door had them separating quickly, and Artair prayed that no one else had taken ill.

Clare, Andrews mother, was there with a couple of other women who were concerned by the news they had heard. They wanted Zia to know that they did not believe her a witch and how grateful they were for her help.

Artair retreated from the cottage, leaving the women to talk. He would speak to James and Patrick about departing tomorrow at first light and making it home to Caithness as soon as possible. The sooner he had Zia in the confines of his familys land, the safer she would be.

He didnt want to think about what would happen if the church council decided against Zia and proclaimed her a witch. His family had power and influence, but no amount of influence could combat a judgment of witchcraft. He only hoped that her alignment with his clan could give her at least a degree of protection.

Somehow, he would find a way to circ.u.mvent the situation. But that would take time, and making her his legal wife would go a long way toward securing her safety. He would see it all done; he merely had to remain patient.

After firming plans for the next days departure with his men, he headed back to the cottage, hoping the women had left and Zia would be alone. He wanted her packed and ready to leave as soon as the sun peeked on the horizon.

It annoyed him to find the cottage empty. He a.s.sumed she had gone to check one last time on those still ailing. He wished that shed stayed put, but knew she would work until the very last moment, and then only reluctantly mount her horse, still feeling she hadnt done enough.

He browsed through the village, looking for Zia, and not finding her, began to worry.

Then he spotted her in the open doorway of a cottage, her cheeks tinged pink and her smile bright. Seeing him as well, she waved and with a light step headed his way.

He caught a swift movement out of the corner of his eye and yelled a warning, Zia, watch out!

Burn, witch, burn, the messenger screamed, and flung the lighted torch he carried at her. Not waiting to see if he hit his target, he kept running until he vanished into the woods.

Zia was holding her arm, her face twisted in pain when Artair reached her. She had deflected the torch with her hand, the brief contact scorching her flesh. He grabbed hold of her and winced when he saw her palm, which appeared charred.

Tell me what to do? he asked, swinging her up into his arms.

You can put me down. Its my hand that has been burned, not my feet.

He smiled at her humorous retort. Im sweeping you off your feet.

Ahh, another romantic moment.

Tell me how to take care of you, he ordered, though with a smile.

She acquiesced with a nod. Take me to the cottage and I will see to my hand.

He started walking. No, I will see to your hand.

They laughed while debating who would be the healer, though when they reached the cottage and Zia winced, Artair would hear no more of her protests. He intended to see to her care, and that was that.

After placing her on a chair, he looked at her hand and flinched.

It looks worse than it is, she said, rea.s.suring him, and stretched for her healing basket on the table.

Stay put, he said, and brought the basket to her.

Its just a minor burn. Once I clean it, youll see for yourself.

She wiped the flesh with a damp clean cloth, and Artair was surprised when the blackened area turned pink. Her skin hadnt been charred; she was right, it didnt look as bad as he had first thought.

Let me do that, Artair said, and took the cloth from her. He didnt want to imagine what could have happened if the flame had caught her garments.

She touched him lightly in the spot between his eyes. Frown lines. Something troubles you.

You could have gone up in flames, and if the village Lorne has anything to say about it, you will. He threw the cloth aside, the pad of her palm a shiny pink.

He was ready to order their immediate departure when she smiled softly and handed him a small crock of salve. He didnt know if it was her tender smile that said I trust you or the fact that she gave him the salve to put on her injury that attested to her trust. Perhaps it was a combination of both.

Thinking on it, I agree with you.

He stared at her, startled.

I may be stubborn, but Im not ignorant. I realize that at the moment it will be far better for me, and those I care for, if I remain with you.

Relieved that she would battle him no more, he almost reached out to hug her, but restrained himself. Instead he applied the salve to her palm with a gentle stroke.

All are well? he asked, wanting her to leave the village without worry.

Yes, she answered with a sigh, closing her eyes as he finished with the salve.

He watched her body relax, her shoulders slumping, her head waving from side to side as a gentle yawn slipped from a nearly closed mouth. He was glad she trusted him. It would make things easier for them both.