Lost in the Highlands, Volume One

by Lorraine Beaumont

  ♦

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

  Hoping for a pick me up, she thought about going back to his room and breaking out the candies she had seen in his trunk but then she remembered he had the damn key.

  Stomping down the hall, she made her way to the kitchen. The back door stood ajar.

  She walked over to it, thinking someone accidentally left it open or perhaps the latch didn’t catch and the wind pushed it open. When she got to the door, she peeked outside.

  Slivers of light drifted down through the piney branches of the tree she made her broom from. The dog was digging under it. Closing the door slightly, just in case the dog decided to go on attack mode again, she watched him. He turned towards her and wagged his tail. “Good doggie,” she said.

  He let out a low, rough sounding bark and began digging in his hole again. Sighing, she 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, she poured it into the pot and lifting a rag she grabbed the rabbit and dropped it into the pot. Next, she grabbed a knife and cut up some of the vegetables then dumped them inside as well. After that she hung the pot on the hook over the fire, tossed more wood on the hot coals, and then stood back up. Pressing her hands to her back, she rubbed the soreness gathering there.

  “Let me, help ye, lass.”

  A hand pressed against her lower back.

  Startled, she flinched away.

  “Och, did I scare ye, lass?”

  Paige turned and her heart broke into a gallop. “No,” she lied. “Not at all,” she 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 that she 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.” She grabbed a basket from the table. “I’m about to go get some …uh, things from outside.”

  “What things might those be?” He narrowed his eyes.

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

  Massaging his close shaven beard, he seemed to contemplate her answer. “Ye use them for cooking do ye?”

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

  His eyes narrowed again. “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?”

  “You’re right…I wouldn’t do that.”

  He seemed to ponder her answer. “Come here, lass.”

  Paige 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…” She ran towards the door, shoved it open and fled outside.

  She could feel him behind her.

  The dog lifted its head.

  Her 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, her furry nemesis, jumped in front of her 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 her.

  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.

  Paige was so relieved; she dropped to her knees.

  The dog sidled up next to her.

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

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

  Not wanting to go back inside because of the creepy man Broderick, she stayed outside with the dog and picked up some pinecones. Not because she wanted or needed them but just in case he was watching.

  The door to the cook room stood ajar. Picking up a hefty stick, she made her way back inside with her basket of pinecones, leaving the door open in case she needed to flee again.

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

  Jerking the door open, she stepped outside.

  The bright light blinded her.

  Stopping, she let her 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 she normally sat on, she 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, she did have to wonder where he was—not because she liked him, but the opposite—he scared the shit out of her.

  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 she was doing, she didn’t notice Gavin standing in front of her until he spoke.

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

  Paige looked up. “No. Of course not.” She patted the grass beside her. “I have a very fine seat reserved just for you.” She 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 arou
nd his very broad shoulders.

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

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

  Paige laughed. She 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 her head instead. “There,” he said. “Ye have a more fitting head for a crown, I think.”

  She tentatively touched the crown on her head.

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

  Blushing, she pulled her hand away.

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

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

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

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

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

  “Um…” She chewed on her lip. “What about supper?”

  “After supper, then,” he said.

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

  “And my bath.”

  “And your bath,” she said.

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

  A pregnant pause passed between them. It was a bit awkward to say the least. She 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!” she blurted, feeling a bit too warm suddenly. “I needed to wash up and …”

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

  He stood up abruptly.

  “I didn’t mean…” she reached out.

  He stepped back. “Och, lass,” he heaved a sigh, coming to some kind of decision she 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 her all alone.

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

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  LOCH MORAR, SCOTLAND

  Sometime during the reign of King James

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

  Bending over, she picked up her ratty fur from the floor, folded it up, and set it on the trunk.

  Walking over to the screen, she was surprised to see that the fresh bowl of water that had magically appeared for her every day was not there.

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

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

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

  They 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 she cooked and cleaned for the day. She 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. She wasn’t too sure if she was even doing it right, but it gave her something to do with her time besides cleaning and cooking.

  She still didn’t know the men very well. Callum and Muir were really the only ones that spoke with her, 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 her and a kind word or two on most days, especially when she washed their plaids.

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

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

  And as far as her highlander was concerned, if possible, he seemed to be getting better looking as the days passed. She would watch him, hoping for one of his rare smiles, or a flirtatious gesture, like he had in the past. Her 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 her. And who could blame him? It was her own stupid fault.

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

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

  ♦

  Thunder shook the room, as she sat cross-legged on his bed and dealt out the cards. She 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 her.

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

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

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

  “Och, not likely,” he said in that sexy way of his that made her toes curl and her body heat as he crossed the room, removed his boots, and climbed on the bed.

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

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

  “What game are we playing?” He lifted his brow at her and her 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 her a curious look.

  “It’s easier this way,” she said, wishing they 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.” She was getting riled again and then she looked at him. His eyes were alight wit
h laughter and she had all she could do not to throw herself at him. Instead, she rubbed the back of her neck and then undid one of the buttons on her gown. “My, it’s a bit warm in here.” She fanned her face.

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

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

  “Now what?” he asked, seemingly unfazed.

  Blowing out a slow stream of air, she deflated her 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!” she snapped getting annoyed, part because he didn’t seem to notice her boobs were hanging out and the other part because she wanted some of those candies. She 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 her forget why she had just been so annoyed.

  “I can, uh….”

  His broad shoulders hunched forward.

  “I can give you a massage,” she 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 her laugh and her mouth water at the same time.

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

  “Aye, just three,” he said.