The Libertine (Taskill Witches 2) - Page 32

When he did not respond, Ailsa gave a labored sigh. “It will be from that Mistress Chloris, seeking you and your magic I don’t doubt.”

Ailsa had a sour look about her and Lennox thought twice about opening it immediately. “The men are still hard at work and will be until darkness falls. Will you bring them some ale?”

Ailsa scowled at him, folded her arms across her chest, but nevertheless turned on her heel and headed toward the house.

Lennox broke the seal on the letter and read the contents quickly.

It was indeed from Mistress Chloris, and he frowned heavily when he read her words. Undue concern had haunted him all day long, after she had not arrived in the forest as planned. His goal was to irritate Tamhas Keavey. Why then did he find himself fretting over Chloris, wondering what had happened to her? Eventually he had to assume she was waylaid on her plans for a morning ride and had to abandon it. Nevertheless, Lennox found himself concerned for her safety, which shouldn’t have been the case.

Now that he saw the real reason for her absence, Lennox found himself even more troubled by it. The more he thought on it, the more troubled he became. He wanted her again. The woman had got into his blood and he would not rest until he’d explored her at length. It was not the usual way of it, and he battled the urge to storm up to Torquil House and demand she reconsider.

What nonsense is this? he wondered. The woman had dismissed him. In all likelihood, that was the end of it.

Then he recalled the moment he saw the fear at the back of her eyes, and it had halted him in his tracks. Despite the fact she tried to hide it, she was vulnerable. Was she afraid now? Had someone made her send this note? Lennox could scarcely bear the thought of it. It is because of my lost sisters, he thought. If any man saw that fear in their eyes, he only hoped they would act on it, discover its cause and protect them.

&nb

sp; Battling his confused motives, he shoved the note in his pocket.

When Ailsa returned with a flagon of ale for the men, he scarcely acknowledged her. His mood turned dark. It wasn’t meant to end yet. In his blood, he knew that.

Such selfish motives could easily lead him into reckless behavior, and he could not shrug off the doubts he had about his own judgment. Nevertheless, after another hour’s work, he gave in to his instincts. When the men went inside for supper, Lennox went to the stable instead, saddled his horse and took the moonlit path across the glen to Torquil House.

For whatever reason, he could not fight the need to see the woman again.

CHAPTER NINE

The yearning that Chloris felt to see the Witch Master again was immense. It was a burden every bit as weighty as her guilt. Morbid thoughts crept up on her easily that evening, the realization that she might never see him again affecting her badly.

The dinner conversation did not help.

Tamhas rambled about council matters, occasionally making disparaging remarks about Lennox, which made her discomfort grow. Not only that, but his opinion of Lennox was so very low that she had to bite her tongue in order not to challenge her cousin. Lennox was by no means a perfect man, she was not foolish enough to believe that, but she felt her cousin did him a great disservice. Besides which, Tamhas was no saint, and each time he caught her attention there was an unwelcome intimacy there, a reminder of how untoward he’d been that very day.

It had been the same with Eithne, she recalled. Tamhas had an instant distrust of anyone who was attempting to heal others and provide comfort where there was none. He had listened to too many tales about those who practiced witchcraft and his mind was made up on the matter.

When she took her leave, Jean frowned.

“You look a little pale this evening,” Jean commented.

“I am well, do not concern yourself.”

Jean did not seem convinced. She rose to her feet and rested the back of her hand against Chloris’s cheek. “No fever. That is a relief. If you feel unwell you must tell me, we can arrange for the physician to call.”

“Please, don’t fuss. I am just a little tired.” She glanced at Tamhas.

Tamhas pressed his lips together and stared down at his goblet of Port. If she was not mistaken he looked a mite sheepish. He thought it was because of him that she was pale. Well, it wasn’t, although Chloris was content to let him believe he was right.

She almost ran to her bedchamber, relieved to be away from the difficult situation. She could only hope that it would get easier now that she had ceased her involvement with Lennox.

Once inside her chamber, she reached for the candle that stood on a shelf inside the door and struck the flint next to it. Lifting the lit candle she carried it to the mantel where she set it down near a small looking glass to reflect the light. The fire burned low in the grate. She stared down at it. As she did the skin on the back of her neck prickled with anxiety. Turning on her heel she scoured the dark shadows of the room.

That’s when she saw him standing there.

Shocked by his presence, she put her hand to her throat. “Lennox.”

“I had to come. I had to be sure you were safe.”

Chloris couldn’t see his face clearly, but she could hear the concern in his voice.

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