Page 44 of Duncan

“What reckon you he should do if you leave him unguarded?” he had to ask.

The laird’s expression turned mournful. “He shall seek out his lover, I reckon, just as you or I would. One night with her our brother may someday forget. Two?” He shook his head.

DUNCAN MOVED SILENTLY along the gallery above the great hall, taking care not to make any unnecessary sound. As a young lad Connal had never stood at the spot above the central hearth to listen in on their sire’s conversations—he had never been so devious—so he remained unaware that everything he said could be heard from above. He’d also caught a glimpse of the druid’s drawing before the laird had tossed it in the flames.

She looks just as Princess Eilonwy did. If she’s the get of her and Mar, we’re half-blood brother and sister.

For him, believing Nicole to be a sibling would require more than a sketch created by druids, Duncan thought. It mattered little if she were mortal or Fae; he could not sire a bairn with any woman, so there would be no consequences from the passionate night they’d shared. If she remained ignorant of her origins, then neither of them could be blamed for what they’d done. What wounded him was the fact that she may have known, or even suspected. How cold-blooded did a woman have to be to offer her affections and her body to a half-brother?

Mayhap she lied, and that night meant naught for her.

He took a seldom-used passage that led around the back of the stronghold to a dusty set of stairs the vassals disdained because they proved too narrow. Using them, he went directly to the hall next to the guest chamber, and then slipped inside Nicole’s room just as two guards came into the passage on the opposite side.

His deceitful lover lay on the bed, but she sat up as soon as he closed and barred the door. “Did you forget how to knock, Healer MacMar?”

“I’m your lover, my lady, or did you forget?” he countered, controlling his anger enough to keep his tone bland.

“We had sex a couple of times during one night. That doesn’t make you my lover.” She rolled over, presenting her back to him. “I’m tired. Please leave.”

Looking upon her made his whole body go rigid, for his need to see her had grown almost beyond his ability to contain himself. It had been a week since the night they’d come together and loved. In the morning Duncan had woken alone, and the lady had taken great pains to avoid him altogether since. Unable to fathom why, he’d retreated into his duties, using them to leave the stronghold at dawn and not return until long after the evening meal. Now in just a matter of hours she would be gone from the island, away from him, and when she returned to her time, forever beyond his reach.

Half-sister or not, she would not toss him aside like some maid she no longer wished attend her. She would face him and admit what she had done.

He strode over to the bed, and jerked back the coverlet to reveal her fully-dressed form. “Do you sleep with boots on, my lady?”

Nicole shifted over to the other side and climbed off, glaring at him. “I thought…never mind. I don’t want to talk to you.”

“A pity, for I very much wish speak with you.” He came around the bed before she could escape, and backed her up into the corner by the window slit. He would not touch her, for he truly didn’t trust himself at the moment. He could not kiss her. He refused to beg for her affections. “Why do you resemble my sire’s dead wife?”

“Do I?” She ducked her head to avoid his gaze. “Which wife would that be? He married so many women.”

“I saw a portrait of Eilonwy tonight. You’re her image.” He reached out to make her look at him, and then thought better of it. “I want the truth, Nicole. Why should a mortal who’s the twin of a Fae princess hide herself from us, unless she knew of the clan long before she came to our island? Did you wish deceive us about your kinship with her? Was she your màthair?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Healer MacMar.” Now she looked at him almost defiantly. “I am Nicole Fairburn, and I was born in the twenty-first century. Your father’s wife has been dead for two thousand years. There’s no way I could be her daughter.”

She had finally made a mistake. “How do you ken when Eilonwy died?”

“You told me.” As he shook his head she took a step back and made a dismissive gesture. “Someone else must have—Lady Valerie, or one of the other women.”

“Our ladies dinnae ken such. We never speak of the time when Derdrui murdered Eilonwy. Indeed, we seldom speak of the princess, and never to outsiders. Only blood-kin ken ’tis been two thousand years since her murder.” He braced his hands on either side of her. “Tell me truly now.”

The next breath she took in sounded ragged. “Yes, I knew what happened to her before I came here. My aunt told me.”

His blood seemed to freeze. “You’re no’ entirely mortal. One of your parents, they’re Fae.”

Nicole didn’t reply, but her mouth tightened and she looked away.

He now had only one question left, and asking it would gut him. Still, he had to know. “Do I call you sister, then?”

“Duncan.” She gave him a haughty look. “Do you really believe that I would sleep with you if I knew we were siblings?”

“Cousins, then.” He allowed her to push him aside and escape, and watched her go to the table, where she filled two mugs with cider from a jug. “I see. ’Tis that we share no blood at all.” She sighed and nodded. “’Tis why you lied when first you came here.”

“I didn’t know what to think. For a few days I thought you had abducted and drugged me so I wouldn’t know I’d been kidnapped.” She came to him, and put the other mug in his hands. “A long time ago I was told never to reveal to anyone who or what I am, because I might be killed.”

Duncan wondered why she was still so frightened. “Admit the truth for me. You’re half-Fae, like me and my clan.”

“Yes.” She glanced around them. “That’s also why I don’t understand why your magic ring brought me here. I’m not mortal like the other women.”