Eternal Lover. Lynsay Sands

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      “What are ye doing awake?” Eric asked Nella as she joined him at the table in the great hall.

      She cut herself a thick piece of bread. “Hungry. I shall get some rest after I eat.” Nella cut a thick slice of cheese, set it on the bread, and stared at the food in her hand. “Do ye think it will work?”

      “Ah, fretting about that, are ye?”

      “Arenae ye?”

      “Some, aye. It seems as if it ought to, but this trouble has plagued us for so long, I find hope a hard thing to grasp.”

      Nella sighed. “So do I. I have heard all the tales of the sad lives of the Galt women and, though it makes sense that this is the answer, it just seems too easy.”

      “Ye think there ought to be some spell done, herbs and smoke and magic words?”

      “Aye. A ceremony of sorts, I suppose. Ah, weel, mayhap the marriage itself was all the ceremony needed.”

      “It has its own power, true enough. Weel, ye eat and then rest, lass. Ye will need your strength.”

      “Oh? Why?”

      “Because if Sophie is right and this ends the curse, there will be a wild celebration. If it doesnae, if she is wrong, she will be needing a lot of comfort.”

      Chapter Nine

      Alpin stretched, poured himself a tankard of cider, grabbed a couple of honey-sweetened oatcakes, and walked to the window to stare down into the bailey. He felt at peace for the first time in his life and it was a good feeling, one he savored and prayed would continue. A day and a night spent in the arms of his passionate little wife undoubtedly had something to do with that, he thought as he washed down the oatcake with a drink of cider and started to eat another one. He was loved and it soothed a lot of the pain he had suffered in his life. There were troubles ahead, but he no longer feared the future as much as he had.

      As he finished his third oatcake and washed it down with the last of the cider, he realized there was a lot of activity in the bailey. It looked as if every resident of Nochdaidh were out there. He nearly gaped when he saw what he was sure were Eric and Nella dancing around like fools. It was a little late to still be celebrating his marriage, he thought as he turned to look at Sophie, thinking to rouse her to come and see what was happening.

      The sight of her distracted him for a moment, even though only her head was visible above the covers. She looked so young, sweet, and delicate as she slept, but he well knew the strength beneath that soft beauty. Her thick hair was splayed out over the pillow and coverlet, looking more golden than ever with the morning sun gilding its length.

      His empty tankard slipped from his suddenly nerveless hand as Alpin realized what he had just done, what he was seeing. Alpin stared at the tankard as he accepted the wonder of having eaten oatcakes and drunk cider. The only hunger the act of eating had roused in him was one for more oatcakes and more cider. The sunlight was filling his room. He had seen all his people so clearly because they had been hopping and twirling about in the sunlight.

      “Sophie,” he called, realized his voice was little more than a soft croak, and cleared his throat. “Sophie!” he yelled.

      When she just groaned and turned over, he ran to the side of the bed. He yanked the covers off her, grabbed her by the shoulders to pull her into a seated position, and shook her slightly. This time he was not finding her inability to wake quickly and be alert very endearing. Alpin knew he was in a precarious state of mind when he got a clear view of her lithe body and did not crawl back into bed with her, just snatched up her nightshift and yanked it over her head. He ignored her muttering as he dragged her over to the window.

      “Look out there and tell me what ye see,” he ordered.

      Sophie struggled to do as he asked. As she slowly woke up, she realized Alpin was acting strangely, could feel his tense agitation. She frowned down into the bailey, wondering just what she was supposed to be looking at.

      “Weel, I have to say that the people of Nochdaidh are some of the worst dancers I have e’er seen,” she muttered and heard Alpin both laugh and curse. “And your mon Eric is the worst of all. He is leaping about in the sun like some sort of drunken—” Sophie’s next words became locked in her throat. “Jesu, Alpin, the sun is shining on Nochdaidh,” she whispered after a moment, then looked at him. “Did ye get hurt by it?” she asked worriedly as she looked him over.

      Alpin sagged against the wall and put a shaking hand over his eyes. “Nay. I but sought to get ye to tell me whether I was dreaming or not.” He reached out and yanked her into his arms. “The sun is shining o’er Nochdaidh, Sophie.”

      “Aye, and your people are hopping about like toads on hot sand,” she murmured and held him tightly, feeling almost as unsteady, disbelieving, and elated as she sensed he was. A minute later, she jumped in surprise along with Alpin when the door to their bedchamber was flung open so hard it crashed into the wall.

      “Alpin, the sun shines again!” yelled Eric, then grunted as Nella ran into the back of him.

      Nella stepped around Eric. “Did ye see, m’lady? It worked! Praise God, it worked! I kenned ye were right.” Her eyes slowly widened when she suddenly realized Alpin was naked. “Oh, my.” She cursed when Eric clapped a hand over her eyes.

      “For mercy’s sake, Alpin, put some clothes on,” Eric grumbled.

      Even as Alpin moved to yank on some clothes, he eyed Sophie with a growing suspicion. “What worked, Sophie?”

      “That ye chose her o’er the Lady Margaret,” Nella replied and gave up trying to remove Eric’s hand from her eyes.

      “Sophie,” Alpin pressed. “What plot or trick have ye been weaving?”

      “No plot or trick, Alpin,” she replied, then sighed. “I was fair certain I had puzzled out the key to unlocking the curse.” She repeated СКАЧАТЬ