Lost in the Highlands, Volume One

by Lorraine Beaumont

  ♦

  When I got downstairs, the hall was empty. I knew I should feel relief that I didn’t have to cook for the men, but instead a heavy suffocating shroud of depression closed in on me.

  Hoping for a pick me up, I thought about going back to his room and breaking out the candies I had seen in his trunk but then I remembered he had the damn key. Stomping down the hall I made my way to the kitchen. The back door stood ajar. I walked over to it, thinking someone accidentally left it open or perhaps the latch didn’t catch and the wind pushed it open. When I got to the door, I peeked outside. Slivers of light drifted down through the piney branches of the tree I made my broom from. The dog was digging under it. Closing the door slightly, just in case the dog decided to go on attack mode again, I watched him. He turned towards me and wagged his tail. “Good doggie,” I said.

  He let out a low, rough sounding bark and began digging in his hole again. Sighing, I turned from the door and looked for something to eat. There were vegetables on the table and a skinned rabbit. Using the water in the bucket on the table, I poured it into the pot and lifting a rag I grabbed the rabbit and dropped it into the pot. Next, I cut up some of the vegetables and dumped them inside as well. After that I hung the pot on the hook over the fire, tossed more wood on the hot coals, and then stood back up. Pressing my hands to my back, I rubbed the soreness gathering there.

  “Let me, help ye, lass.” A hand pressed to my back.

  Startled, I flinched away.

  “Och, did I scare ye, lass?”

  I turned and my heart broke into a gallop. “No,” I lied. “Not at all,” I said. “I just didn’t hear you.”

  “Aye,” he said, pushing his hand through his greasy black hair.

  It wasn’t Gavin, the one person I wanted to see, but another man.

  “I came to see if ye needed help with anything.”

  “Oh, no. Thank you though. I was just finishing up.” I grabbed a basket from the table. “I’m about to go get some …uh, things from outside.”

  “What things might those be?”

  “You know, err, pinecones and such.” It was a stupid answer but it was the first thing I could think of.

  Massaging his close shaven beard, he seemed to contemplate my answer.

  “Ye use them for cooking do ye?”

  “Sure.” God, what was I saying? He had to know I was lying.

  His eyes narrowed. “If I didn’t know better, I would think ye were lying ta me but then I say to myself, Broderick, why would the lass lie ta ye?” He stroked his beard again.

  “You’re right…I wouldn’t do that.”

  He seemed to ponder my answer.

  “Come here, lass.”

  I took a step in the other direction. “I really should get going.”

  “I said,” he repeated. “Come here, lass.”

  “Gosh. Would you, ah, I forgot…” I ran towards the door, shoved it open and fled outside. I could feel him behind me.

  The dog lifted its head.

  My step faltered.

  “Ye like ta play hard to get do ye?” he asked, coming to stand outside the door.

  “What? No. It’s just like I said, I have to get stuff and the Laird, you know, he is a stickler for having supper ready on time…”

  The man named Broderick took a deliberate step forward just as the dog, my furry nemesis, jumped in front of me and started to growl at him.

  He stopped his progression. “Och, get out of here ye mangy dog.”

  The dog got into a defensive stance just like the night he had come into the hall when it rained. Growling low in his throat, he blocked the man Broderick from coming any closer to me.

  Apparently, Broderick wasn’t in a hurry to get bitten because he stepped back. “I will let ye get back to yer work then,” he said. “But never fear lass, I will be around to see ta ye sooner or later.” He turned on his heel and fled back into the castle.

  I was so relieved; I dropped to my knees.

  The dog sidled up to me.

  “Thanks doggie.” I tentatively reached out my hand so he could smell it and then patted his balding head. “There’s my hero. You’re a good boy,” I said.

  Apparently pleased with my praise, he stuck out his tongue and licked my hand affectionately.

  Not wanting to go back inside because of the creepy man Broderick, I stayed outside with the dog and picked up some pinecones. Not because I wanted or needed them but just in case he was watching me. The door to the cook room stood ajar. Picking up a hefty stick I made my way back inside with my pinecones, leaving the door open in case I needed to flee again.

  Thankfully there was no one here. I set my basket down, checked on the stew, and then with my stick in hand I walked down the dimly lit corridor to the main hall. Checking to make sure the coast was clear; I bolted through the main room straight to the door.

  Jerking the door open, I stepped outside.

  The bright light blinded me.

  Stopping, I let my eyes adjust, and then quickly headed down the stairs past the tree in the middle of the yard to go watch the men train.

  ♦

  Broderick stepped back from the ramparts and made his way back down stairs through the main hall to the cook room. He crossed over to the table and looked inside the basket sitting on top. It was filled with pinecones. Grunting, he slipped out the back and followed the worn path to the Loch.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  LOCH MORAR, SCOTLAND

  Sometime during the reign of King James

  Sitting down on a nice patch of grass in front of the low wall I normally sat on, I gathered little yellow flowers and made a makeshift crown while watching and listening to the men train. It was a comforting sound and the fact that Broderick was not around, made it even better. Although, I did have to wonder where he was—not because I liked him, but the opposite—he scared the shit out of me.

  Gavin, in the midst of a heated sparring match with Morgan, looked up and saw his lass sitting on a patch of grass. His attention momentarily diverted, Morgan slammed into him and he fell backward into the dirt.

  “Och, Laird, I bested ye.” Morgan let out a hearty chuckle making his beard and belly shake with mirth. He held out his hand for his Laird to take.

  “Aye, Morgan, ye did,” Gavin agreed. He clasped Morgan’s hand let him pull him back to his feet.

  Dusting off his backside, he looked back to the lass.

  Morgan followed his line of vision and grunted.

  Gavin turned back to Morgan. “Are ye going ta let me go at ye again, or are ye too tired, old man?”

  “Aye, I think I need to take a rest for a bit.” Morgan was lying of course but he could tell his Laird had other matters he wanted to attend to.

  After Morgan walked away, Gavin made his way over to the lass.

  So caught up in what I was doing, I didn’t notice Gavin standing in front of me until he spoke.

  “Lass,” he said. “Care if I sit with ye for a bit?”

  I looked up. “No, of course not.” I patted the grass beside me. “I have a very fine seat reserved just for you.” I was trying to be nice. Make up for upsetting him earlier.

  “Ye do?” He gave my seat I pointed to a doubtful look.

  “It’s nicer than it looks.”

  He chuckled. “Is it now?”

  “Yes. I’ll have you know, it’s a very fine seat.”

  “I suppose I will have to try it ta find out.”

  “I suppose you will.”

  He sat down and wiggled his bottom on the grass. “Aye, I think ye are right. It tis a verra fine seat.”

  Something was fine all right, but it had nothing to do with the seat he had taken. A light sheen of sweat was glistening on his bare chest and his damp hair hung loosely around his very broad shoulders.

  A sudden shyness assailed me again. I took the crown of flowers I made and placed them on his head. “Your crown,” I said.

  “Och, lass, ye are going ta make me look li
ke one of the fairy folk.”

  I laughed. I couldn’t help it.

  He frowned. “Ye find me amusing do ye?”

  “No. Not you.”

  Pulling the crown of flowers from his head, he placed them on top of my head instead.

  “There,” he said. “Ye have a more fitting head for a crown, I think.”

  I tentatively touched the crown on my head.

  “Nay lass, leave it be. I like the way it looks on ye.”

  Blushing, I pulled my hand away.

  “I’d like ta see ye only wearing that crown of flowers.”

  My face flamed brighter, catching his meaning, or at least I thought I did. “You, um…would?”

  “Aye. After ye scrub the filth from my body,” he added with a glint of humor in his eyes.

  My toes curled in my shoes and I swallowed hard. I had all I could do not to jump on him right here, right now. He looked so damn sexy. “Is that so,” I finally managed.

  “Unless ye have something else ye would prefer ta do ta me?” His brow lifted.

  “Um…” I chewed on my lip. “What about supper?”

  “After supper, then,” he said.

  “All right,” I agreed. “After supper.”

  “And my bath.”

  “And your bath,” I said.

  “Good.” He shook his sweat dampened hair away from his face.

  A pregnant pause passed between us. It was a bit awkward to say the least. I didn’t know what else to say.

  “I should get back to training…unless ye want me ta stay with ye for a wee bit longer.”

  “No!” I blurted, feeling a bit too warm suddenly. I needed to wash up and …

  His brows creased and for a split second I saw that look of pain enter his eyes again.

  He stood up abruptly.

  “I didn’t mean…” I reached out.

  He stepped back. “Och, lass.”

  He heaved a sigh, coming to some kind of decision I was not part of.

  “Not ta worry,” he said with a hefty amount of disdain. “I will no force myself upon ye this night or any other for that matter.”

  With that he turned and strode away back to the training field, leaving me all alone.

  After supper, I waited for him up in his room but he did not come for his bath or come to bed. Finally, when I couldn’t stay awake any longer, I crawled on my crappy bed and fell into a restless slumber.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  LOCH MORAR, SCOTLAND

  Sometime during the reign of King James

  After my not so wonderful night, I straightened his room. I didn’t need to make his bed since he never came to it. And if he did, he left before I awoke.

  Bending over, I picked up my ratty fur from the floor, folded it up and set it on the trunk. Walking over to the screen, I was surprised to see that the fresh bowl of water that had magically appeared for me every day was not there.

  Sighing, I made myself as presentable as possible. Then I headed down to the kitchen to start some kind of stew to cook for the day and to find myself something to eat. I noticed by the way my gown fit that I was losing weight, which was something that never came easy to me before.

  When I rounded the corner, I saw the dog. Instead of running in the other direction, I made my way over to the table and lifted one of the bones I had let dry overnight and tossed it to him. We had come to a truce of sorts after that day with Broderick—a mutual understanding. He stopped growling and trying to eat me alive and in return I gave him a bone to chew on. Most days, Elvis, the name I decided to give the dog hung out with me in the kitchen until I finished making the stew and cleaning up. Then he left me alone to go outside to bury his bone.

  Wiping my hands on a towel, I made my way to the back door. The sun was shining and a nice gentle breeze was blowing from the west. I could hear the clashing of metal in the distance and knew the men were training.

  We had gotten into a routine of sorts.

  The men would fend for themselves for breakfast and then head out to train. They would stay out there until the sun set while I cooked and cleaned for the day. I saved some seeds from some of the fruit and vegetables and decided to go and try to plant them in a little patch of rich dirt out the back door. I wasn’t too sure if I was even doing it right, but it gave me something to do with my time besides cleaning and cooking.

  I still didn’t know the men very well. Callum and Muir were really the only ones that spoke with me, but it was usually just polite conversation about the weather and their training.

  Alec and Graham were more standoffish but they did have a ready smile for me and a kind word or two on most days, especially when I washed their plaids.

  Morgan was the oldest as far as I could tell. He was quiet and watchful. But not in a creepy way like the man called Broderick. I liked him least of all. He was cordial enough after our encounter that morning in the cook room but he gave me the creeps because he always seemed to be watching me when he thought I wasn’t looking. So, needless to say, I tended to stay to away from him as much as I could.

  The other men weren’t as memorable. They seemed nice enough but they kept to themselves mostly. A few days I tried to talk with them but they didn’t seem interested in talking to me, so I finally gave up trying.

  And as far as my Highlander was concerned, if possible, he seemed to be getting better looking as the days passed. I would watch him, hoping for one of his rare smiles, or a flirtatious gesture, like he had in the past. My attraction to him grew, but it would seem it was one sided.

  After what happened on the training field he pretty much closed himself off against me. And who could blame him? It was my own stupid fault.

  Every once in a while, I would catch him looking at me, and I would smile, but he would just turn away.

  I was beginning to wonder if I blew it with him for good. But luckily for me, I wasn’t easily deterred. I had a plan. And it was a good one. In his trunk, he had a deck of cards, and tonight I was going to teach him how to play poker.

  ♦

  Thunder shook the room, as I sat cross-legged on his bed and dealt out the cards. I coerced him to the room under the guise of being afraid of the storm. After one of his staple eye rolls, and an audible sigh, he reluctantly came upstairs with me.

  Lighting streaked outside in flashes of bright white light. “Come on,” I called over my shoulder cheerily as he tossed another log on the fire.

  “Lass, yer a demanding sort are ye not?”

  “Oh, come on,” I said laughing. “You’re just afraid I will best you once again.”

  “Och, not likely.” He removed his boots, and climbed on the bed.

  The firelight cast flickering shadows across the room as we were seated across from one another on the bed. It was like we were in our own little world.

  Pulling my hair up away from my face, I twisted it into a loose bun, and picked up my cards.

  “What game are we playing?”

  He lifted his brow at me and my heart did an involuntary flutter.

  “Ah, five card draw.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Just look at the cards I’ve dealt you and I will explain as we play.” He gave me a curious look. “It’s easier this way,” I said, wishing we were playing strip poker instead of for the candies he had sitting on the bed.

  “All right but don’t cheat again.”

  “I don’t cheat.”

  “Sure, ye do.”

  “I do not.” I was getting riled again and then I looked at him. His eyes were alight with laughter and I had all I could do not to throw myself at him. Instead, I rubbed the back of my neck and then undid one of the buttons on my gown. “My, it’s a bit warm in here.” I fanned myself.

  “Not ta me,” he answered with a devilish grin.

  “Of course,” I mumbled dejectedly. Still, I wasn’t ready to give up on my attempts at seduction. When he wasn’t looking I quickly undid another button on my gown and pressed my arms together
so a good amount of my cleavage was showing. I used exaggerated movements to lean forward and pick up my cards.

  “Now what?” he asked, seemingly unfazed.

  Blowing out a slow stream of air, I deflated my cheeks. “Now you bet.”

  “Bet?” He lifted his cards up.

  “Yes. You put out what you think you should bet against me?”

  “But they are all my candies.”

  “I know that!” I snapped getting annoyed, part because he didn’t seem to notice my boobs were hanging out and the other part because I wanted some of those candies. I was having withdrawals from lack of sweets and caffeine.

  “But what do ye have ta bet with?”

  His dark brow rose an inch and his lips curled up in that sexy way of his, which immediately made me forget why I had just been so annoyed.

  “I can, uh….”

  His broad shoulders hunched forward.

  “I can give you a massage,” I blurted.

  “I bet three candies,” he said, lifting three of the aforementioned candies from the box wrapped in gold foil. The way he was laying them out with something akin to reverence almost made me laugh and my mouth water at the same time.

  “Just three?” I asked skeptically as my eyes drifted with longing at the full box of chocolates.

  “Aye, just three,” he said.

  “Fine,” I sighed as that flair of annoyance shot through me again. “Now,” I said, lifting the deck. “How many cards do you want?”

  “I do not want any.”

  “You have to want at least one.”

  “Nay, I do not.”

  “Well, I am taking four.” I lifted my Ace of Spades and showed him.

  “Why are ye showing me yer cards? Are we done then?”

  “No, but to get four cards I have to show you an Ace.” I took my four cards off the deck. I had two measly pairs, which consisted of two queens, and a pair of eights.