Free Claire Delacroix by The Last Highlander Page B

design, Morgaine was directly beside Alasdair. He could smell that bewitching blend of roses rising from her very flesh.
    This was his moment.
    Alasdair gritted his teeth and cleared his throat. “My lady Morgaine,” he murmured with a slight bow of his head. “I must say what a great pleasure it is to enjoy your company again.”
    The lady fired a hostile glance in his direction. “Don’t even pretend this is an accidental meeting. I know Justine too well for that.”
    Alasdair felt the back of his neck grow hot, a sign of guilt if ever there was one.
    But no one was going to aid him here.
    Justine deliberately ignored her monarch’s comment. Alasdair wondered how anyone could be so cavalier with her own hide.
    A man garbed in black, with a length of linen inexplicably over his arm, chatted with Justine, nodded, then led the way across the glittering hall.
    Justine sailed across the floor in his wake, Blake right behind her, and Alasdair seized the opportunity to speak to the queen without her advisors listening.
    He looked into Morgaine’s green eyes and felt the pull of her enchantment. “I must admit,” he said quietly, “that I greatly desired to see you once more.”
    The lady’s lips thinned. “Look, I know what you’ve done. And contrary to some people’s expectations, I’m not that desperate for a man.”
    Alasdair was quite certain that she had enough immortals at her beck and call to satisfy whatever desires she had. “My lady, I must apologize for my earlier assumptions. As you might understand, I was confused by what had occurred and fear I did not present myself well. On this night, I wished only to speak to you that I might present my plea...”
    Morgaine’s eyes flashed and she waved a finger indignantly under his nose. Alasdair fought the instinct to retreat. “I don’t need to hear any pleas from you! Whatever you might have told Justine, I know all I need to know about the kind of man you are. I’m not interested in anything you have to say.”
    Alasdair caught his breath, then anger surged through him. How dare she judge him without a hearing? “You know naught of the manner of man I am,” he retorted.
    “Is that right?” The enchantress dug in her small black satchel and hauled out a faceted crystal that was breathtakingly familiar.
    Alasdair gaped.
    The crowning stone from the regalia! ’Twas the stone the witch had bade him hold when she sent him to Morgaine’s kingdom.
    ’Twas the stone he would need to return home.
    Without a second thought, Alasdair snatched at the gem, but Morgaine danced out of his range. Understanding burned bright in her green eyes, and she shook her head in displeasure.
    “What kind of man would stoop to stealing from the regalia?” she demanded and Alasdair’s hand fell limply to his side.
    He could well understand her revulsion. Indeed, Alasdair would have shared a low opinion of anyone who resorted to thievery of Scotland’s crown jewels.
    But the witch had given the token to him.
    “I can explain,” he protested, but the sorceress shook her head.
    “Save your lies,” she said coldly. “You may have fooled everyone else, but I know what you’re done and I’m going to make sure it gets fixed.”
    With that, she strode after her advisors.
    But her words made no sense. Alasdair could not quite understand how Morgaine, who stole men away to her world without remorse, could judge him harshly for stealing from the regalia.
    A crime of which he was not even guilty.
    Did she nurse a secret affection for the Scottish dream of independence – despite the fact that she flew the English standard above her abode?
    Was that why it required the regalia stone to come to her domain?
    Alasdair did not know. Annoying the powerful enchantress had certainly not been on his agenda for this night. How should he proceed?
    Justine solved the issue.
    “Alasdair!” She summoned him with a smile, indicating a vacant seat beside Morgaine. “Come along, we’re