Page 107 of The Hawk Laird
“Naught could ever defeat you, brigand.” She kicked a little water toward him. He came closer. “I know Quentin and Patrick saw your friend John Blair in Dunfermline, and they said he has urgent news for you. Will you leave soon?”
“I must,” he answered somberly. “I want to show him the letter from the bishop concerning Wallace and Bruce. I want John to deliver the letter to Bruce himself, with a note that includes the words of the prophetess of Aberlady. That message will give him hope, I think. She predicted he would be king of Scotland soon, and eventually save Scotland from English domination.”
“Did she? Then do tell him. James—Quentin said you have another matter in Dunfermline.”
He sighed. The summons from John Blair involved brief mention of a clandestine task that made visiting the abbey imperative. “There is something I must do.”
“Can I ask—” She hesitated. “I care what you care about, whatever is important to you.”
James sighed. He could share this with so very few—just those who had to know, those he absolutely trusted. But he knew she was one of them. “We—John Blair and Quentin and I—have something we must do together to—honor Will Wallace yet. There is no one else to see it done. We hope to give him peace at last. Beside his mother,” he murmured.
“You,” she said then. “The pilgrim I saw in a vision, standing beside a tree.”
“Aye.” He spoke to the water’s gleaming surface. To himself, his soul.
She watched him. “Will you find peace for yourself then?”
“Someday.” He smiled ruefully, shaking his head to dispel the burden for now. Sinking down as if to wash it away, he rose and pushed water toward Isobel to ripple about her slender legs. “Come find out how peaceful I feel,” he teased.
She shook her head. “You come out. I am cold.”
“Let me warm you.” He surged forward and reached up to take her waist, pulling her into the water with a deep splash. She gasped, her shift floating around her like a cloud. He grasped it and pulled it off in one easy motion, while she lifted her arms to assist him.
Draping her arms around his neck, she curved her body into his, and he leaned with it. Against his chest, her breasts felt divinely soft, and her body fitted to his like glove to hand.
“I did not want to come in. The reflections in the water and the sound of the spring could bring on a vision.”
“You do not want another vision?” He brushed his lips over her cheek.
“Not just now,” she answered.
“If you had a vision,” he said, “I would kiss the darkness from your eyes.”
“Would you?” She sought his mouth in a sweet kiss, then another.
Enfolding her in his arms, sinking down with her, he floated back a bit, covering her mouth with his in a kiss that stirred deep through his body, a salve for his soul as well. She wrapped her legs around his waist, the water lapping in warm currents about them.
“Jamie,” she whispered. “I want you to find peace now that the threat is over.”
“Over? Not for a long while. You yourself predicted that, seeing what the rest of us may not.” He framed her face in his hands, her wet hair streaming down to pool like midnight around them. Her eyes were wide and beautiful, opalescent as moonlight. He kissed her eyelids, her brow, drew back to look at her. “Part of me may never find true peace, with one deed weighing on my heart. I may never forgive myself for that. But I am thankful each day for what you have brought to me.”
“I know something is yet unresolved in your heart. I understand that. But here in this paradise, we can always find sanctuary.”
“My love.” He kissed her again, then set his hands on her hips, drawing her against him under the water. He wanted to surround her, immerse in her, soul and body. He kissed her again, so that she arched against him and mewed a little, the sound making his body surge. His hands drifted along to support her more fully. “We will always find peace together, wherever we are. Now, my love—”
“Now, my love,” she breathed against his lips. “Now and always.”