Page 36 of The Highlander and The Lady of Misrule

I am courageous.And she would never allow herself to live a bland, predictable life. Would Greer Buchanan love her tenderly if she asked? He would leave once Twelfth Night was concluded, so there would be no repercussions as long as no one found out.

I’m a very generous lover. That’s what he’d said in front of the church Christmas morn. Was it true? The thought tightened the ache that was already forming within Lucy. There was only one way to find out.

Chapter Nine

“Some leper hospitals, which housed those believed to have leprosy, also took in those suffering from general infirmity, and by the later Middles Ages many of these leper hospitals no longer housed any lepers at all, instead taking in the old and infirm. Additionally, most hospitals accommodated no more than 20 brothers and sisters, 12 being the most common along with a priest. St Leonard’s Hospital in York was truly exceptional, having around 225beds.”

History Extra

Greer glanced upand down the long corridor outside the Great Hall. He breathed in the cooler air. Between the Yule log burning, the press of people, and the dancing, the air was vastly better in the corridor.

“Where did ye go, lass?” he said. She’d probably left to collect herself. What the bloody hell had William said to her? Greer had seen him talking to her with Cordelia, and then Lucy had left.

Greer opened the door to the chapel. The distant smell of incense and candles added to the holy feel to the place. Vast and richly appointed, the Whitehall chapel seemed foolishly redundant with Westminster down the road.

He looked toward the alter. “Lucy?” His voice broke through the layers of holy silence that filled the space like a swollen sea. She knelt there, alone, her petticoats circling out around her over the two steps leading to the altar.

Without bothering to mute his steps in reverence, he strode to her. Startled, she stood, turning to him. Were those tears in her eyes? What did William say to her? “I won’t kill him,” Greer said, standing before her. “But he will feel pain. What did he do, so that I know how much pain?”

She blinked, taking a full breath. “Who?”

“Darby.”

“William did nothing to me.”

Greer glanced back up the aisle and then at the altar. “Is that why ye are in here? Because he did… nothing?” Did she want the boy to do something to her? The thought twisted tightly in Greer’s middle. His breath swam around in his gut, not leaving his body as he waited for her to answer.

“Pardon?” she said, the lovely arches of her brows pinching.

“Do ye want William Darby? Is that why ye are sad?” He couldn’t imagine the stupidity of the boy. Greer was sure the chemist desired Lucy.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I’d rather live with lepers than be with William.”

“Lepers?”

Her hand waved off the comment, and she stepped closer. Standing there in a house of God, Greer tried to ignore the way Lucy’s curls lay against her exposed neckline. In the dimness of the few candles placed in glass globes against the walls, her hair looked spun of gold. Her face was pale and perfect with her wide-set eyes and slender nose.

“Greer Buchanan,” she said, her voice soft.

“Aye?”

“I wantyou.”

His mouth opened and then closed. “Lass…”Bloody hell. His hands fisted at his sides to keep from reaching for her. Was this some type of devilish test God was placing upon him here in his house?

“Lass,” he started again. “I have no plans to wed.”

Her lips were parted, and he could imagine their sweetness. “I’m not asking you to wed me,” Lucy said, her voice slightly above the sound of her shallow breaths. “I am asking you to… take me.”

Take me? That’s what she said. Take me.

He fisted his hands next to his legs. “Take ye where?” he asked, not giving into the hope that he knew exactly where she wanted him to take her. A place that would leave her panting and moaning in pleasure.

Her eyes met his. “To bed. That is if you want me too.” She shook her head. “No need to wed.”

With a deep breath that pushed the swell of her breasts higher over the lace edge of her bodice, she reached up to touch his face. Her cool fingers slid along his cheek where he knew his scar sat. He meant to ask her if she were sure, but his arms rose instead, pulling her into him. She came willingly into the circle.

His lips met hers, and the sweetness of the touch tore through him. Lucy was warm and soft, perfect in his arms. She tilted her face, deepening the kiss, and heat tore up through Greer. Her fingers ran through his hair to the back of his neck, and her mouth moved against his. She moaned softly as he cupped her arse through the layers. Did she know what she was doing to him? Promising things with her touch and her body?

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