A Very Highland Holiday - Kathryn Le Veque Page 0,24

my guardian angel on earth and he prayed that God would send me another in his place. I think… I think that Gaira may be that angel. I feel something for her that I cannot describe, but it has something to do with comfort and understanding and…”

“Love?” Rafe interjected.

James grinned, lopsided. “P-Perhaps,” he said. “I-I am hopeful.”

Rafe smiled faintly, watching James as the man gazed up at the stars again. This wasn’t the same young lord he’d met at Balthazar’s Inn several days ago. That young lord had been tormented and bitter. The man before him was full of peace.

It was, after all, a season of peace.

Rafe looked back up to the sky and to the bright start in particular.

“Do you know your archangels, James?”

James shook his head. “I-I am afraid I am much like my brother was,” he said. “Neither of us were very pious.”

The corner of Rafe’s lips twitched. “I know that about you,” he said. “If you don’t know your archangels, then let me explain to you that Raphael is the archangel of healing, both physical and emotional. This is a season when angels walk the earth, a time of miracles. Your brother’s prayers were heard, James. Johnathan exchanged one guardian angel for another. And, yes, he is waiting for you in heaven, but not with worms in his eyeballs.”

James had been daydreaming as he gazed up at the stars, but Rafe’s odd statement caught his attention. “A-Ah, yes,” he said. “W-Worms in his eyeballs. I think that was something I wrote to him on more than one occasion when I was younger, but… hold a moment… how did you know about that? Did you read that letter, too?”

Rafe grinned, patting him on the shoulder as he turned and headed back towards the church. “That bright star will be gone tonight,” he said, pointing upwards. “And so will I.”

Confused, James took a few steps after him. “B-But where are you going, Rafe?”

“To find others that need healing. And, James?”

“What?”

“The name is Raphael.”

With that, he turned and disappeared into the church. Literally, he disappeared into the darkness. Bewildered, James went after him only to be faced with a vacant church. There was no tall, pale man in white woolen clothing anywhere to be seen. Baffled, James turned towards the door again, processing what he’d been told.

What had happened.

Raphael is the archangel of healing, both physical and emotional. This is a season when angels walk the earth, a time of miracles.

That’s what Rafe had said.

The name is Raphael.

Startled, James came to a halt, realizing what he’d just been told. Rushing out into the cloister, he looked into the sky to see that, indeed, the bright star had vanished. Now, it was simply a velvet black sky covered with a sea of diamonds, all of them twinkling brilliantly.

It was an evening full of beauty.

Oddly enough, he didn’t doubt Rafe in the least. Now, the man’s presence made sense. Everything he had done made sense. The recovery of Johnathan’s sword and haversack and letters and the ring made sense. Even Gaira made sense. James hadn’t been a man to believe in miracles as he’d said, but tonight, he did.

The pieces of the puzzle had all come together.

On this night of nights, James realized that he had come face to face with his very own guardian angel.

When Gaira asked him later what had become of Rafe, James simply told her that the man had to leave.

Perhaps there were some miracles better kept to himself.

Part Seven

JAMES AND GAIRA

Year of Our Lord 1747

The month of April

James’ face was buried in Gaira’s neck, smelling the sweet musky scent that had the ability to arouse him like nothing else. He could feel her soft breasts against his bare chest, experiencing the sensual movement every time he thrust into her.

Gaira’s legs were wrapped around his hips but he unwrapped them, holding them behind the knees, giving him more freedom of movement as he continued to thrust into her sweet and yielding body.

His wife.

Gaira had her hands on his lower back, stroking it, stroking his smooth buttocks as he made love to her. She loved it when he slowed his pace, withdrawing completely only to plunge into her again, slowly. Her hands drifted between their bodies, putting her fingers on his phallus as he joined his body with hers. Nothing seemed to fuel James’ desire than her fingers on his manhood.

His climax was instantaneous.

It was the second time that morning he’d taken her, as he’d taken her every