Read Online Untamed by Elizabeth Lowell - Free Book Online

scattered.
    â€œAre you ill?” the old woman asked, her voice suddenly earnest rather than wry.
    â€œNo. Just…” Meg’s voice died.
    â€œJust what?”
    â€œClumsy.”
    â€œPah. Better to accuse Blackthorne’s cats of barking than to accuse you of clumsiness.”
    Smiling, Meg turned around and hugged the old woman with a need that went deeper than words. Old Gwyn’s seamed face, white hair, and faded green eyes were as familiar to Meg as her own hands.
    â€œWhat is it, child?” Gwyn asked finally.
    â€œMy father…”
    Meg’s voice faded as she remembered John’s flat denial that he was her father.
    At the mention of John, followed by silence, Old Gwyn’s pale green eyes went to the shelf where a second vial of his medicine was kept in reserve for future need. The shelf was empty.
    â€œIs he worse?” Gwyn asked.
    â€œNot really.”
    â€œOh. With the last of his medicine used up, I assumed he was failing.”
    â€œMedicine?” Meg looked over her shoulder. Her breath came in swiftly. “It’s gone!”
    â€œYou didn’t take it to him?”
    â€œNo.”
    Uneasily Meg went to the table and searched among the pots. She found only leaves and dried flowers. The shelves yielded nothing unexpectedwhen she went through them quickly, shifting the contents in her pursuit of the missing medicine vial.
    â€œThat’s odd,” Meg said finally.
    Frowning, she stepped into the outside aisle, grabbed a fat candle from its holder, and went back into the herbal. Gwyn watched through narrowed eyes as Meg rummaged efficiently through the nooks and shelves, bins and basins of the room.
    When Meg finally gave up, the fear she had felt in Lord John’s room returned redoubled.
    â€œGone?” Gwyn asked.
    â€œYes. And the antidote with it. Perhaps Duncan fetched both. John was beset by coughing and I was in the mews.”
    The old woman said something in an ancient language. Whether it was a curse or a prayer, Meg didn’t know, for she couldn’t hear the words clearly enough.
    â€œI like this not,” Gwyn muttered finally. She looked at Meg. “Say nothing of it to anyone. We need no more trouble.”
    Meg nodded. “Yes.”
    â€œCan you make more?” Gwyn asked.
    â€œOf the medicine itself, yes. I have an ample supply of the seeds. The antidote will be much more difficult to replace. The plant grows only in undisturbed ground. This year we plowed up everything in hope of a good crop.”
    With a grunt, Gwyn rubbed her sore knuckles.
    â€œThe wet wind bothers you,” Meg said softly. “Have you taken the medicine I made for you?”
    The old woman seemed not to hear.
    â€œGwyn?”
    â€œMy dreams have been disturbed, but not by chilblains,” she whispered.
    A cold breath of unease slid down Meg’s spine. Saying nothing, she waited to hear whatever the oldGlendruid woman had gleaned from the world that was visited only in sleep.
    â€œ What was written in the past shall become in the future. No one, neither lord nor vassal, escapes. The winds of change are blowing, bringing the call of the war horn and the howl of the wolf .”
    Gwyn blinked as the vision passed, saw the expression on Meg’s face, and sighed.
    â€œTell me about your father,” Gwyn said in a low voice.
    â€œHe denies being my father.”
    Strangely, Gwyn smiled. There was little of warmth or humor in the curve of her lips. Even at her advanced age, the old Glendruid had a full set of hard white teeth. They gleamed as a wolf’s teeth gleam, in warning.
    â€œDid he threaten to set you aside and put Duncan in your place?” Gwyn demanded.
    â€œOnly if I don’t marry Duncan.”
    â€œWhat of Dominic le Sabre?”
    â€œHe is to be slain even as we stand before the priest,” Meg said bluntly.
    Gwyn’s breath came out in a low hiss. “The Church will not abide