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  It was when she reached a shady copse that she knew she had found Mary’s special place. It was several yards away from where the narrow path from the keep met the burn. Annora felt her body fill with the excitement of an imminent discovery. She knew it was foolish to let her hopes rise too high, but instinct told her that she was but a step or two away from the truth about what had happened to Mary. Annora actually wondered if she had yet another gift, one that allowed her to find things. She had always been good at that, but never had it been so important to her to find something.

  The shady copse where Mary had often come was a beautiful place, prettily enclosed with tall, aging trees so that not even a person standing in the highest tower of Dunncraig would have been able to see her. It was indeed a perfect place to meet a lover, she mused, especially if the woman was one who was supposed to be dead. If Mary had dressed the right way, anyone who might have seen her would have assumed she was just some maid who had come to the banks of the burn to meet her lover. A few people would fear they were seeing a ghost.

  First Annora carefully checked every tree to see if there was a hollow in the trunk similar to the one where Meggie had found the first journal. To her complete disappointment there was none, but she told herself she should not have expected it to be so easy. She then began to study the roots of the trees in the hope of finding some odd rise or hollow around them where a small book might be hidden, but that too proved fruitless.

  Annora was about to give up when her gaze settled on two large flat stones embedded in the ground near the bank of the burn. They formed a seat of sorts where one could sit and watch the river tumble by. She was just thinking that Mary had gone to a lot of work, or made someone else do so, to make sure that her skirts did not get damp or dirty when her whole body tensed with the certainty of discovery. Annora felt a little like a dog must when it caught the scent of its prey, but she still knelt down by the stones to study them more closely.

  Surprising herself with her own strength, she tugged up one of the stones. All she found beneath it was dirt and a vast array of bugs. Quickly dropping it back down, she moved to lift the other stone. Once she pried that up out of the ground she was so surprised by what she saw, she dropped it. It was a struggle to lift it again just enough to push it aside. There, partly buried in the dirt, was a lump of oiled leather just like the one that had been wrapped around the other journal.

  After carefully taking it out of the ground, she settled the rock back into place. As gently as she could, fearing that this one might not have been as protected from the damp and other ravages of time and weather, Annora spread open the oiled cloth. When she saw that the little book she had been looking for was wrapped inside and that it was in nearly as good a condition as the other, she said a little prayer of thanks. Before touching the journal she washed her hands in the icy water of the burn and then dried them completely on her skirts. Annora sat down on the rocks that had sheltered the little book for so long and began to read.

  When she finished reading what Mary had written, Annora set the book down on her lap. She wiped tears from her cheeks even as she wondered why she wept. Amidst all of Mary’s complaints and long rambling accounts filled with self-pity was a tale of betrayal. Mary had betrayed James and Donnell had betrayed Mary. Annora supposed that was enough to make anyone cry.

  “Foolish, stupid woman,” she whispered. “Ye gave up all that was good for a mon who ne’er loved ye and were rewarded with an unmarked, unconsecrated grave.”

  A chill breeze swirled around Annora and she shivered. Everyone always said one should never speak ill of the dead. For just a moment, she feared Mary’s spirit was trying to reach her, but then she looked up at the sky. Big, dark clouds were rapidly eating up the blue sky and promising a fierce storm. She stood up, tucked the little book into a hidden pocket in her skirts, and started on her way back to the keep. To give herself a good excuse in case someone caught her outside alone, she paused now and again to gather a few plants that might prove useful. It was so easy to find such plants that she began to think she needed to overcome her fear of water enough to come near the burn regularly and find out just how big its bounty of healing plants was.

  With each step she took toward Dunncraig, she worried more and more about what to tell James. She would not hide this book from him as she had the other. It held the full ugly truth about all of Donnell’s deceits and treacheries. It was also proof that James had not killed Mary. She had lived for nearly a year after James had been condemned for her murder and cried an outlaw. Since James had been hiding and running for his life during that time, it might be difficult for him to prove that he was nowhere near Dunncraig at about the time Mary wrote her last entry in her journal, the one where she had starkly stated her fear that the man she had loved for so many years was going to kill her. From all James had told her about his talk with his brother and the king’s man, however, Annora suspected that would not cause James all that much trouble. The ones in power, the men who could end James’ exile, had already begun to doubt Donnell’s word. There was only Mary’s increasing fear to point the finger of guilt in Donnell’s direction, but Annora was sure there was more than enough in the journal to push Donnell out of Dunncraig.

  She was so deep in thoughts about how the journal might help James that she nearly walked into Donnell as she hurried into the keep. Annora could not completely hide the flush of guilt upon her face and hoped Donnell would think she was just flushed from the cold wind that had sprung up outside. Not only had she been creeping about, avoiding her guards again, but in her pocket was a little book that could possibly see Donnell hanged. It was not easy to look a man in the eye when one was working so diligently to get him hanged, Annora thought, even if he did well deserve the punishment.

  “Where have ye been?” he demanded and then he grimaced with distaste as he looked over the cloak she wore. “And why are ye wearing that tattered rag?”

  “I was wandering about in the wood again,” she replied, ignoring his criticism of her attire.

  “Without your guards. Again.”

  The suspicion she could hear in his voice and see reflected in his narrow-eyed expression made Annora very uneasy, but she forced herself to act and speak as if she was as calm as a loch on a windless day. “I cannae always remember to tell your men where I am going.”

  “Weel, I strongly suggest that ye try. Now, come with me to my ledger room. We need to talk.”

  Ominous words, she thought as she followed him. With each move she took the little book in her pocket bumped against her thigh, reminding her that she had a powerful secret to keep. It was more difficult than she liked to hide the growing fear inside her, for Annora knew that if Donnell found the book in her pocket, her life would be in immediate danger. James would also lose one of the first good sources of the truth he was seeking that had been uncovered at Dunncraig.

  Once inside Donnell’s ledger room she stood quietly in front of his big worktable while he seated himself behind it. He clasped his large-knuckled hands on top of the table and stared at her silently. It was something he always did and Annora was certain it was meant to make her nervous or afraid. It was working, although not as well as it had in the first few months of her time at Dunncraig. She met his steady look with an outward calm.

  “Ye are now four and twenty, aye?” he finally said.

  “As of two months ago,” she replied.

  “Tis far past time ye were married, dinnae ye think?”

  “I have naught to offer a husband. No lands, no dowry at all, nay even a wee chest of linens.”

  Donnell shrugged. “That doesnae matter to some men.”

  Some men being Egan, she thought. A cold knot formed inside her stomach and for the first time since meeting up with Donnell she forgot about the book in her pocket and all the danger it put her in. She realized that some foolish part of her, the one that did not like to look at any unpleasant truths, had hoped that Donnell would not order her to marry Egan.
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  “I have yet to meet one,” she murmured, knowing full well that, although Egan expected no lands or coin, he was also not marrying her because he loved her. He expected some gain from taking her as his wife; she was just not sure what that was.

  “Weel, ye have met one and I think ye ken it weel. Egan has asked to marry ye and I have said aye.”

  “He has ne’er asked me and I wouldnae have said aye if he had.” Despite her effort to speak softly and calmly, Annora knew there had been a bite to her words because Donnell began to look angry.

  “Ye will say aye, Cousin.”

  “Why? Why must I marry that mon?” Although she could tell by the angry flush growing on Donnell’s face that he thought she was being impertinent, Annora truly wanted to know why he was forcing her to marry Egan.

  “Mayhap I am but weary of having the care of ye, as are many of our kinsmen. Egan wishes to relieve me of that burden and I intend to let him. Do ye truly think ye can do better than my first? Do ye forget who ye are? Allow me to remind ye. Ye are naught but a poor, landless bastard. S’truth, I think Egan could do far better in a wife but ’tis ye he wants and he will have ye.”

  Annora knew Donnell was being purposefully cruel, trying to quell her resistance with hard words, but knowing that did not lessen the hurt very much. “As ye wish, Cousin,” she said, knowing that there was nothing she could say or do that would change his mind. “If ye will excuse me now? I have much work to do.” She did not even wait for his permission to leave but turned and walked toward the door.

  “Dinnae dare disobey me in this, Annora. Believe me when I say that ye will be verra sorry if ye do. And try to come to the great hall for meals more often. It would do the people of Dunncraig good to see ye and Egan together a few times before your wedding.”

  She did not look at him, just nodded as she hurried out of the room. It undoubtedly looked like the retreat it was but she did not care. Annora was not sure what Donnell could do to her that would make her any sorrier than if she married Egan, either. As for going to the great hall to share a meal with the man she was about to be given to, playing the smiling betrothed couple for the sake of Egan’s pride, Donnell would wait a long time for that to happen. Avoiding that torment was even worth risking a beating.

  After returning the cloak to a blatantly curious Big Marta and making certain that Meggie was safe and happy with Annie in the nursery, Annora hurried up to her bedchamber. She needed to wash up and change her gown before she confronted James with what she had found. It was not a chore she was looking forward to. The last thing she wished to do was hurt him, but handing him the little book full of Mary’s poisonous little comments about him would do just that even though it might also free him.

  As she started to leave her bedchamber, she paused and looked at the chest beside her bed where she had hidden the first journal. Annora wondered if she really should take that one to James as well. Hiding it from James was much the same as lying to him, and that was not something she liked to do. A moment later she shook her head and hurried out of her room. There was all the proof James needed in the second journal. It spoke of how Mary and Donnell had been lovers for years as well as all about how they had planned to fool the world into thinking James had killed his wife. All it lacked in comparison to the first one was page after page of Mary complaining about how she had to endure James as her husband, her disgust over his lovemaking, and her many wishes for Donnell to hurry and free her from her marriage. James did not need to read such hurtful words. In truth, he would undoubtedly find more than enough pain in the words Mary had written in her second journal, including the ones that revealed her utter distaste for motherhood.

  It was almost time to go down to the great hall before Annora finally found James. She was beginning to fear that she might be seen and escorted there to share a meal with Egan if she did not get out of sight quickly. When she returned to James’ bedchamber for a second time and he answered her rap upon his door, she nearly cursed. They had obviously passed each other at some time during her search for him, probably several times. The fact that he greeted her wearing only a big smile did a lot to ease her growing temper, one born mostly of frustration.

  “What if it wasnae me?” she asked, laughing softly when he tugged her inside the room, then quickly shut and barred the door.

  “Oh, I kenned it was ye, love,” he said as he picked her up in his arms and carried her to the bed.

  Annora gasped with surprise when he dropped her onto his bed and began to tug off her clothes. “James! I came here to talk to ye!” she protested, laughter making her voice unsteady and stealing all command from her words.

  “We can talk later.”

  She opened her mouth to protest and quickly shut it again. What she had to tell him and show him would hurt him even if only in his pride. Annora might not be certain of what his true feelings were for her, but she was certain that he desired her and that she could stir his passion to such a strength that he could not even talk coherently. Making love before she gave him the bad news would not make him accept it with a smile, but it might well lessen the sting of it. Their lovemaking would still be fresh in his mind when he read all of Mary’s unkind words.

  “Aye, we can talk later.”

  Annora pushed him onto his back, straddled his body, and stared down at him. She intended to make love to James in a way that had him feeling like the handsomest, most enticing male that had ever donned a sword. Tossing all of her modesty aside, for it would have no place in what was to happen next, she kissed him. He murmured his encouragement against her lips, but she did not need any prodding. She was on a mission. By the time James was lying sprawled at her side, his body would be weak from the pleasure she had given him but his pride would be strong enough to withstand the blows Mary’s poisonous words would deliver.

  When she ended the kiss he made a move to take control of the lovemaking, but she easily resisted him. As she had hoped, his curiosity about what she planned to do was stirred and he remained unresisting in her hold. A tickle of excitement began to grow inside her as she kissed her way down his body, lingering on all her favorite spots like his broad chest and his taut, smooth stomach. He tasted so good and the way he began to nearly purr beneath her caresses, his big body shifting with the force of his growing arousal, excited her and made her feel incredibly bold and daring.

  The groan that escaped him as she neatly avoided the proudly erect manhood demanding her attention and began to kiss her way down his long, strong legs made her smile. It was a sound of both frustration and delight. Instinct told her that making him wait for what he so obviously hoped she would do would only make the pleasure more fierce. A soft curse of surprised pleasure escaped him when she kissed his feet, teasing his toes with little nips and sucks before kissing her way up his other leg.

  When she reached his groin his whole body tensed with anticipation again and this time Annora did not tease him. She slowly ran her tongue up the length of him and around the faintly glistening top. His hips lifted slightly off the bed with the force of the shudder that went through his body. Annora did not really need her special gift to know that what she was doing was giving him a pleasure so great it was almost painful and she turned all of her attention to trying to make him crazed with delight and need.

  James threaded his fingers through Annora’s thick, soft hair and held her close to him and she created magic with her tongue. For a woman who had been a virgin only a few days ago, she was proving to be the best lover he had ever had and he knew it was not all because of how he felt about her. Softly urging her to take him into her mouth, he nearly shouted out his pleasure when she slowly drew him deep into the damp heat of her mouth.

  For as long as he could, he reveled in the gift of her passion, his body tightening in a way that was nearly painful as he fought the urge for release. Finally, knowing he was but one stroke of her clever little tongue from losing all control, he urged her to mount him. As she did so, he saw the flush of
desire on her face and the way her midnight-blue eyes had turned black. The fact that she had stirred her own need and desire to such heights simply by loving him almost undid him. The moment her tight heat enclosed him, he grabbed her by her soft, rounded hips and helped her ride him as hard as she wanted to, as he so desperately needed her to. His release came far sooner than he would have liked, tearing through him with a force he had never experienced before, but she was right beside him, her body tightening around him and seeming to drink heartily of the seed he spilled deep into her womb. The possibility that that seed might take root only added to his pleasure even though he knew it was a reckless wish. James barely found the sense and strength to catch her in his arms when she collapsed upon his chest.

  It was a long time before James returned to his senses. He was still on his back with Annora sprawled on top of him and he was idly stroking her back. James suspected the fact that she had moved just enough to separate their bodies had been what had roused him from his stupor, but he noticed that she had not found the strength to move to his side, curling up against him as she usually did.

  No other woman had ever made love to him like that. He had once paid for a woman to love him with her mouth, something a lot of women refused to do or thought was a sin far more grievous than any of the other bedplay they indulged in. James was suddenly glad that he had never really made love to a woman with his mouth, not in the way he had done with Annora, for now they had each shared something with each other that they had never shared with another. For the first time he was glad that his experience with women had never been as extensive as that of some of his brothers or cousins. He could never be untouched for Annora as she had been untouched for him, but at least he had not spent his unwed years leaping gaily from one bed right into another.

  Feeling a faint tension entering Annora’s body, he asked, “Are ye ready to talk now?”