He grabbed hold of her. “We will talk.”
“Later,” she said and wiggled her body against his.
“You are—”
“Hungry for your kisses.”
Before Mary knew what happened he had her off the ground, in his arms, and was walking to the willow tree. He spread the thick weeping branches with his shoulder, and without removing one stitch of clothing, he made love to her beneath the willow tree.
Chapter 19
It seemed as if the heavens obliged them that night. A cloud drifted over the half moon, blocking out what light there was and leaving their sleeping nook in total darkness. They were like shadows in the night, barely visible to the eye.
Time was closing in on them, the hours slipping by until it would be morning and their time together done. They had made love often and Mary burned every second of it into memory.
Now snuggled in his arms, her leg over his, her hand on his chest, she felt content. In a few short hours that would change, and how she would say goodbye to him she did not know. She did not want to think about it, for it caused her heart to ache and her stomach to churn.
“I love you more than I ever thought possible, Mary.”
His soft declaration brought a tear to her eye. “Something we have in common, for I never thought I would love someone as strongly as I love you, Michael.”
“How do I let you go?”
“I thought the same of you, but we have no choice.” Her tear dropped on his chest.
“Damn,” he whispered, then eased her off him, leaned over and kissed her tears away. “I will find a way for us, Mary, I promise.” He kissed another falling tear.
“I know, Michael, I know, but for now just love me.”
They loved slowly and gently, savoring every touch and kiss, lingering as if they wished the moment would last forever. When it was done, their bodies misted with their lovemaking, they wrapped around each other tightly and slept.
A rumble of thunder woke Mary in the morning, and she was not surprised to see that Michael was not there.
She had expected his absence in the morning, his last words to her indicating his early departure.
“I will always be near.”
Mary fought back tears as she dressed and gathered her belongings. She had to remain strong. She would face much adversity in the days ahead and she could not resort to tears whenever she was upset. But the persistent tears threatened again when she saw that he had left her berries and roots for breakfast. She could not, however, hold her tears in any longer when she went to the stream. There near the water’s edge, written deeply in the dirt was I love you.
She cried, aching for his arms to wrap around her, aching for this to be a nightmare that she would wake up from, aching for his love.
She forced her sobbing to stop. Strength would be her shield and love her weapon to use to defend herself against Decimus. She would be victorious, for life without Michael would be much too empty. And if her suspicions were right Roarke would soon arrive to take her to Magnus, and she would not greet him with tears. Michael would never leave her on her own. He would always make certain she was protected.
I will always be near.
She dried her face with the edge of her skirt, looked around and called out, “I love you, be safe.”
She returned to the keep, packed the last of her few meager belongings, and walked to the door. Before she closed the door behind her she took one last look around and smiled. This crumbled-down keep would always hold a special spot in her heart. She shut the door and sat on the stone wall to wait for Roarke.
It was not long before she heard his approach. She knew his footfalls were purposely heavy, making her aware of his arrival. She liked Roarke, he was easy to talk with, kind, and trustworthy. She could understand Michael and he being friends.
Mary stood when Roarke emerged from the woods, a broad smile on his face. He would try to cheer her, he was like that, always being in good spirits and wanting to share his mirth with others.
“It is proud I am to accompany a brave warrior into battle,” he said once he stood in front of her.
She forced a smile, not feeling brave, though knowing this was her destiny. The seer’s words helped.
You will be the demise of Decimus.
If she was right then there was hope for her and Michael.
The day’s journey was slow, rain forcing them to seek shelter. Mary was too preoccupied to hold a conversation and Roarke seemed to understand and remained quiet. They camped early that evening due to the uncooperative weather, and after a quick meal they both slept.
Mary woke early upset by a dream. She had dreamed that Michael lay beside her, his arm wrapped around her. She could almost feel him, hear his breathing and the steady beat of his heart. She allowed herself only a moment of sorrow.
Her own pity would do her no good. Soon she would come face-to-face with the man who had robbed her of her parents and her life. She would need all her strength and intelligence to deal with him.
“Do you know of Decimus?” she asked Roarke once they began walking.
“Unfortunately I do.”
“I would like to know all I could about him.”
“It is always wise to know one’s enemy when entering into battle,” Roarke said.
“And this marriage will be a battle.”
“A silent one would be more beneficial.”
“I thought the same myself,” she said. “The more I listen, the more I learn, the more I gain.”
“Your freedom?” he asked with a smile.
She laughed. “Freedom is intoxicating.” Her laughter faded. “And it is our God-given right.”
“Aye, that it is.”
“So tell me what you know of Decimus.”
“His temper is what you will need to be most careful of.”
“It is unpredictable?” she asked eager to learn all she could.
“Extremely, no one knows what will ignite him and send him into a rage. I have heard people quake at his feet and beg for mercy without him having raised a hand. I wonder if he is feared more than the devil.”
“How does he treat women?”
“He treats the accused no differently, be they man, woman, or child. They repent or suffer the consequences. He believes himself on a mission for God. He will let nothing stand in his way.”
“I stand in his way.”
“More than you know.”
She shook her head, confused. “I do not understand his obsession with me. I am no threat to him.”
“Know that you are and tread lightly or you will suffer more than you thought possible.”
“You need not worry, I will be careful.”
“Be more than careful,” he advised. “Be aware, very aware.”
Sleep eluded Mary that night. She tossed and turned until the sun began to rise. She rose quietly, not wanting to disturb Roarke who was snoring softly, and walked to a clearing where she could watch the sunrise.
It was a beautiful sight, the bright orange ball looked as though it rose from the depths of the earth. It heralded the birth of a new day. Her heart quickened and she smiled. She would face today with courage and determination.
“I love you, Michael, wherever you are, know that I love you, and keep safe.”
Mary stood on the crest of a small hill overlooking Magnus’s keep, silently watching everyday life go by for the villagers.