The Libertine (Taskill Witches 2)
She wanted to say she would, badly. An aching maw in her chest forced her to the brink of agreeing to his demands. “You would not use magic on me now, would you?”
“Never. Not for something as important as this. You must come to me of your own free will, otherwise it is worth nowt.”
He wanted to do the right thing, trusted her to do the same. She would, but it would not make him happy. Eventually he would understand. He would mate with a woman of his own kind, and he would know that it was for the best.
But she wanted him so. Frustration drove her, and she pulled him by his shirt, drawing him to her.
“Make love to me,” she demanded, one hand lifting her skirts as high as her thighs.
His eyes lit from within.
The ache in her chest grew. He thought she was agreeing to his demands.
Before she could deny it he had her in his arms, guiding her to a spot where they could lie together. “I knew you would see the sense of it.”
No, she had only seen the truth of it.
But she could not deny herself this one last pleasure.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
During the council meeting Lennox could barely stop himself glowering at Tamhas Keavey. Keavey kept glancing his way, smiling smugly as if he was head of the council. Had he ensured Lennox’s short membership? It mattered not. Lennox was no longer concerned about that. They would be gone soon. His relationship with Chloris had tipped the scales.
It was, however, tempting to inform Keavey he had not the slightest clue what was going on around him. That would be fatal, and Lennox vowed to remain silent even if provoked. He was scarcely able to allow Chloris to return to Tamhas Keavey’s home that morning. Now he had to sit and watch Keavey gloat over some perceived one-upmanship on his part.
The last thing in the world he wanted was for Keavey to find out about his involvement with Chloris. The very reason for the affair in the first place now appeared so blatantly wrong. It unsettled Lennox greatly. If Keavey were to find out about the relationship that had grown between them, there was no telling how he might treat Chloris. She had doubts enough about the wisdom of leaving her kin to be with him. If Keavey had even the slightest clue and quizzed her, those doubts would inevitably increase.
The very thought of it made Lennox feel powerless and frustrated. He loved the woman and he wanted to be with her forever. The only way to make that happen was to begin a new life together, far away from the Lowlands and all those who would try to keep them apart. It would happen, he would make it so.
He scarcely listened when the list was read out and the Somerled wainwrights were added for a tenure of one year.
How things changed, he mused.
It mattered not a jot.
Lennox returned to Somerled with plans to gather the coven.
As he approached he heard his name being called from a distance. Alerted by the sound, he saw Lachlan waving at him, as if encouraging him to make haste. Glenna was a few feet behind. Both of them looked anxious. Glenna hurried along the path, one hand reaching out to steady herself against a tree trunk and she realized he had seen them. His blood ran cold, the sight of them worrying him deeply. Was there trouble at the house? Or worse still, an ousting of one of their own?
He twitched the reins and urged his horse to gallop, quickly closing the distance between them. “What is it?”
Lachie eased Lennox’s mount when he drew to a halt, stroking the horse’s neck as he spoke. His face was flushed and his eyes bright. “Word has reached us that a woman is being held in the tolbooth in Dundee. She is on a charge of witchcraft.”
A fist formed in Lennox’s gut. It always did when he heard of innocents being persecuted. Then Glenna shook her head, her eyes widening, and Lennox knew there was more to it. He climbed down from his horse.
Lachie continued. “They say her name is Jessica Taskill.”
Lennox gripped the pommel on his saddle, astonished. So long it was that he had hunted for Jessie and Maisie, and with no word. They had vanished—much as he had—into the fabric of the land, but he had always hoped that one day he would find them. Not this way. Not knowing Jessie was on trial for her craft.
Quelling his fear as best he could, he pushed his hands through his hair and leveled his mind. “How long ago?”
Glenna shook her head. “I’m sorry, Lennox. That was all the news there was. We can only assume it was not long since, or...or more details would have been passed on.”
She spoke with obvious discomfort, as if unwilling to make him think about the immense possibility of his sister’s end.
“That’s true enough,” Lachie added. “People are all too ready to gloat over the details. The news is fresh. Heed Glenna’s words and hurry to her side.”
Lennox nodded. Looking out across the land he reached his arms out with the deepest reserves of his divination—the most precious instincts carried by those gifted with the craft—and he felt sure she was still alive. He summoned a wish for a protective force to surround her until he got there.