Trusted By The Highlander: A Scottish Time Travel Romance

by Rebecca Preston

  "What if we came with you to the church?" Melanie suggested. "What if we came to Mass, took communion and spent some time with the villagers, let them get to know us and see that we're regular people like them?"

  "It could be dangerous," Father Caleb said, shaking his head. "There's a man by the name of Bran who's particularly vocal about all of this. He owns the inn in the next village over," he added, waving a hand. "He's well liked among a certain… well, rather unsavory population, I must say, though God of course loves all his children… but I'm not certain that those types would necessarily be swayed by seeing you take communion. If you ask me, they're more interested in stirring up trouble than they are in whether or not you're witches."

  "I'd like to speak to this Bran," Melanie said firmly. He sounded like a prize asshole — exactly the kind of man she'd taken pleasure in sorting out back when she was an investigator. Besides, getting to the bottom of where these rumors came from sounded like exactly her kind of work. "Can we come back with you to the village?"

  Aelfred looked a little wary. "I'd be worried about staying in the village, if there really is so much hysteria stirred up against us…"

  Father Caleb nodded. "It may be unwise."

  "We can camp," Melanie said impatiently. "The weather's been fine — we can take some rations and bedrolls and camp outside the village. Why not?" She was very concerned with the rumors of witchcraft, of course… but part of her, a deeper part, was rather thrilled by the idea of going camping with Aelfred. The pair of them, all alone on the outskirts of town, under the stars… why, who knew what could happen? She hid a grin, feeling a blush threaten, and turned her gaze back to Father Caleb. "What do you say?"

  "Well, I…" His eyes flicked to Donal, who shrugged his shoulders.

  "I'll back these two in whatever they choose to do," he said simply. "I've had enough experience with these time-lost women to know that getting in their way is a bad idea. And Aelfred is a Grant and my kinsman. I trust his judgment."

  A smile broke out across Aelfred's face, and he clapped his cousin on the shoulder, clearly touched by the vote of confidence. "I wouldn't mind speaking to this Bran either," he said quietly. "I'd be interested to know why he thinks he knows my origins better than I do."

  Chapter 25

  Father Caleb stayed in the dining hall with the Laird, chatting away about recent goings on in the village, while Melanie and Aelfred packed rations and camping equipment onto the back of the chestnut gelding, who seemed rather intrigued by the sudden flurry of activity. Then, in the late afternoon light, the three of them — four, including the horse — set off toward the village together. Father Caleb, it seemed, knew all about the Burgh, and even had some insight into the Sidhe and their propensity for sending women through to medieval Scotland who didn't strictly seem like they belonged there.

  "We've always been taught that the Lord moves in mysterious ways, and through strange channels," Father Caleb said with a shrug of his shoulders when Melanie wondered aloud whether the supernatural clashed at all with his belief system. "And if he chooses to work through… elves and faeries, well, that's His business, isn't it?"

  She couldn't help but chuckle at that. Father Caleb didn't seem especially thrilled by the prospect — she had a suspicion that this stoicism had been hard-won over the last few years of strange occurrences. Still, it was a great deal better than living in denial, wasn't it? And it was good to know that the town's priest was on their side when it came to the villagers calling for witch hunts. Who knew what might have happened if Father Caleb hadn't been there to quell the hysteria?

  They reached the outskirts of the town at sunset, and sure enough, more than a few suspicious looks were thrown their way from the passersby. Father Caleb waved and smiled to the villagers he saw, putting on a good show of being unbothered, and Melanie relaxed a little, smiling and waving as well. It probably looked good, to be seen strolling through town with the local priest at her side, right? Aelfred looked worried as he scanned the area, his hand not straying far from the sword at his hip, but Melanie didn't think the villagers would be quite so bold as to attack them in the center of town like this.

  "Tell me about Bran," Aelfred said when they reached the church. He seemed to have been giving this some thought. "Who is he?"

  "He's owned the tavern in the nearby village since before my tenure here," Father Caleb said with a shrug of his shoulders. "He was married, a long time ago, but it seems his wife fled with his child, oh, twenty years ago. He never did recover from the heartbreak of never seeing his child again."

  Melanie frowned. Something about that sounded suspicious. Women, as a general rule, didn't leave their husbands for no good reason… especially, she imagined, in a medieval setting like this, where a single mother with a young child wouldn't exactly have access to social security. "Why would he have such strong opinions about me and Aelfred?"

  "No idea," the priest said, shaking his head. "But by all accounts, he's been the source of the majority of the rumors… and, I believe, the man who sent that group who attacked you two on the road a few days ago."

  Melanie's eyes narrowed. "I think I know where to start investigating," she told Aelfred with a grin. But Father Caleb cleared his throat.

  "Are you sure it's such a good idea to get personally involved?" he asked gently, raising an eyebrow. "I understand that you time-traveling women tend to be… well, plucky… but it could be dangerous. Bran's famous for his temper and his ability to hold a grudge, and he likely wouldn't take kindly to a woman interfering in his business…"

  "She has me at her side," Aelfred said firmly, his hand on his sword. "Not to mention… she can handle herself, if it comes to that."

  Melanie smiled up at him, pleased to hear him speak up in her defense. Father Caleb didn't look especially convinced, but he also didn't seem like he was interested in taking on a fight with either of them… he simply nodded and gestured to the church. "Well, I must be going in… I understand that you two will probably want to make camp before it gets dark. There's some lovely clear spaces around the church yard that you're more than welcome to." He gave them a long look, oddly meaningful, then turned and left them to it.

  Aelfred blinked. "What did that look mean?"

  "I think…" She cleared her throat, suddenly a mixture of embarrassed and amused. "I think he was trying to decide whether he wanted to give the two of us a sermon on the dangers of premarital intimacy."

  "The dangers of… oh!" Aelfred's eyes widened and she resisted the urge to burst out laughing at the look on his face. Before it could get too awkward, she turned and headed for the edge of the church yard where Father Caleb had indicated they might find a good place to set up camp, and after a moment she heard Aelfred follow her, still chuckling under his breath.

  They set up camp in a clearing just outside the church yard, where the ground was smooth and flat, and it was easy enough to see or hear anyone approaching. They'd opted for a couple of bedrolls, and Aelfred set about setting a small fire while she dug their rations out of the satchel they'd brought with them. The gelding grazed on the sweet grass that grew on the edge of the clearing, Aelfred having tethered him on a comfortably long lead to allow him to comfortably spend the night, and with the stars above them shining down brightly in the clear sky, it was an undeniably pleasant way to spend an evening.

  She realized with a broad grin on her face as she settled in beside Aelfred, there was nobody around to stop them cuddling and canoodling as much as they liked.

  Still, the two of them were both weary — from the ride, from the revelations of the day, and from a long day of duties — and besides, she had a suspicion that Aelfred was doing his level best to be as gentlemanly as possible, so after a pleasant meal and a bit of kissing, they decided to head for bed — in their two separate bedrolls. Pleased not to be pressured into anything… and at the same time, a little frustrated that he hadn't at least tried to tempt her… Melanie settled into her bedroll, surprised by how co
mfortable it was to sleep out under the open sky. It definitely beat the hell out of sleeping in her car as she'd done for more than a few jobs in the past.

  She woke bright and early the next day. With the sky itself functioning as her alarm clock, it wasn't long after dawn that she stirred awake, finding herself pleasantly refreshed and well and truly awake. Aelfred, too, was stirring, and she giggled a little at his sleepy face, the way his long blond hair had come loose from its fastening in the night and was rather tangled where it perched atop his head. They had a quick breakfast before packing down the camp, securing the bedrolls safely and leaving the horse where he was before heading in to meet Father Caleb in the church.

  To their surprise, there were a gaggle of people standing around in front of the church, suspicious looks on their faces. Aelfred and Melanie exchanged wary glances as they approached, a little worried about what this could mean. The villagers were regarding them with mixed expressions — some suspicious, some hostile, some simply curious. One woman cleared her throat as they approached and stepped forward to deliver them a stiff greeting.

  "Good morning," Aelfred said cautiously, looking around the circle. "Nice to see you all."

  The villagers exchanged glances. "You don't look like a witch," one of the women said, catching scandalized looks from her fellows. "What? He doesn't."

  "Who told you we were witches?" Melanie asked curiously, her investigative instincts taking over. The villagers shuffled their feet a little.

  "It's one of those rumors that gets around, you know the way of it," said the woman who'd greeted them. "Ridiculous stuff, mostly. Pointed noses, and cloaks, and broomsticks…"

  Aelfred reached up to touch his nose, which drew a laugh from the crowd — a small laugh, but a laugh, nonetheless. Melanie had a suspicion he hadn't intended to be funny… but before that could become clear, the church doors opened and Father Caleb stood before them, clearing his throat.

  "Ah! Melanie, Aelfred, good morning. Thank you both for coming — and thank you all," he added, gesturing to the assembled villagers, "for also coming along to sort all of this out. Shall we?"

  "What's going on?" Melanie asked blankly.

  Father Caleb gave her a sharp look. "Mass, of course," he said. "I felt it only best, given the rumors circulating at the moment, that we all share in communion."

  He said a few more things then, about remembering what was truly important, and that they were all one in God… for Melanie, who'd always been agnostic-leaning, it all sounded a little bit abstruse. But she knew what the real purpose of this little gathering was. Father Caleb wanted to prove to the villagers that Aelfred and Melanie wouldn't burn up or dissolve when they stepped over the threshold of a church. Aelfred seemed to get the drift, too — he gave her an amused glance as the priest ushered them in, both of them well aware that the villagers' attention was fixed on them. It was enough to make her worry, just a little, as she stepped through the doors to the church after Father Caleb. What if time travel had made her ungodly, somehow?

  But as always, the church was just a church — she stepped through unscathed, and so did Aelfred. There was a little lessening of the tension on the faces of the villagers, but not a lot, as they entered the church and took their seats. For Melanie, who'd never been to a Catholic service before, it was all new, but she tried to pretend that it was familiar to her. Somehow, she had a suspicion that being agnostic wouldn't go over particularly well — not in combination with the suspicions of witchcraft that were flying, anyway.

  In the end, the service was rather lovely. She tried to ignore the close attention of the villagers when she ate the wafer and drank the wine that were offered to her, well aware that they were probably waiting for her to dissolve into ash or catch on fire or something, and the approving looks that a few of the women exchanged did little to dispel her uneasiness. Were they really this easily convinced that she was evil, or ungodly, or a witch or something? It was a miracle that any of her time-lost friends had survived their trip here… then again, she remembered from the stories they'd told, it had been a close call for quite a few of them. Aelfred, for his part, did admirably well, too, and by the end of the service, the villagers were looking at them with a great deal less open hostility… though curiosity seemed to have taken its place.

  "As you can all see, now," Father Caleb intoned, "our dear friends Melanie and Aelfred are God-fearing folk just like us. These rumors of witchcraft are ugly and unbecoming," he said firmly, glaring around the assembled circle of people, who had the good grace to look a little ashamed of themselves. "As for the attempts on Melanie and Aelfred's safety…"

  "That wasn't us," one of the women said quickly. "Those weren't men from this village. They were Bran's friends."

  Melanie felt her hackles go up. "Is that so?" she asked, trying to keep her expression neutral even as her instincts screamed at her that this was a lead.

  "That's right," the woman nodded. "Bran's the one who's really got it out for you two. He's fairly influential in his way, too."

  "Bran and his — well, followers, I suppose," Father Caleb said with distaste, "they didn't bother coming to me for advice on this. They skipped directly to attacking the pair of you on the road."

  "What did you do to him?" That was a man, a curious look on his face. "Forgive my asking, but … he really does seem to have it out for you. Especially you, Aelfred. Have you two got some history, or something?"

  "I don't think so," Aelfred said blankly. "I've never met the man."

  "I think we should go and visit him," Melanie said firmly. "Ask him face to face what exactly his problem is. There's a possibility we could get all of this sorted out today. What do you think?"

  Aelfred looked worried by the prospect… but a couple of the villagers offered to come with them, to vouch for them if any of the other villagers gave them trouble. Melanie had a suspicion that they felt guilty — perhaps they'd been spreading the rumors themselves before Father Caleb had given them a strong telling-off about the dangers of spreading falsehoods? At any rate, it felt good to have some allies who didn't believe they were witches, and Melanie was all too willing to have them come along.

  "Will you come too, Father?" Aelfred asked Father Caleb. "You know the area much better than we do."

  Father Caleb hesitated, and Melanie could tell that he'd much rather not — but with the eyes of the villagers upon him, he could hardly be seen to say no. "Of… of course."

  The gaggle of them set out along the high road, headed for the nearest village — for the tavern that sat at its center, to confront Bran, the man at the heart of all of these rumors. Melanie, for her part, felt excellent about the whole situation. She finally felt like herself again — like she was doing what she'd always done, the thing she was best at in the world. Her job. Her calling. She was investigating a mystery… and she was damn well going to solve it. For Aelfred, as well as for herself. For their ongoing safety here in this strange place… for the good of their reputations among the villagers, who may well be their friends for years.

  Was she really thinking about starting a life here? she wondered, a little surprised at herself. Had she really given up on getting home? The truth was, she was invested in this place. Whether it was the Sidhe bringing her here, the people she'd met, the place itself, or her blossoming feelings for Aelfred — or maybe a mixture of all of the above — this place felt like home, now. And she wasn't going to let some gossip of an innkeeper make her feel unsafe in her home.

  It was a long walk, in the end, along the long, straight road that she remembered racing Aelfred on, what felt like months ago. They found themselves in the village shortly before midday, the sun high in the sky. Father Caleb was puffing heavily, clearly not used to walking at the brisk pace that Aelfred had set, and the villagers exchanged amused looks, elbowing each other as they pointed out that the priest was worn out. There was an interesting mixture of reverence, affection and gentle mockery when it came to the priest — Melanie wondered j
ust what the relationship really was between the villagers and their Father. They seemed to like him well enough, and he was clearly a spiritual authority to them… but she had a suspicion he might command a little less respect as a man than he thought he did.

  They walked through the cobblestone streets of the village, Melanie doing her best to figure out where they were. Up ahead of them was a large, busy building that she recognized right away as an inn — it looked a little like the one in the village closest to the Keep, though it looked a little more rough around the edges, and the clientele seemed different, too. Where the tavern in the other village was often populated by children and families as well as men drinking, there were no women in sight here — Melanie felt oddly singled out, that chill running down her spine again as she realized that the only people in the tavern were tough-looking men. But she had Aelfred at her side, a gaggle of villagers ready to vouch for her… and a priest, too, who even the frightening-looking men in the tavern were looking at with nods of respect.

  She could do this, she told herself firmly. She was going to get to the bottom of these rumors about her and Aelfred, and she was going to do it like the skilled private investigator she knew she was. Straightening her back and lifting her chin, she strode into the tavern with the group behind her, determined to find this Bran and do some digging about just what he had against her and Aelfred.

  She just hoped that the theory she was quietly working on proved to be incorrect — for everyone's sakes.

  Chapter 26

  It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the gloomy tavern. Though it was bright and sunny outside, the windows were dusty and grimy, and not much light seemed able to filter in through to the bar. She could see fine, though — see the figures sitting at the bar and at tables, all of them men, all of them with suspicious looks pinned on her and her companions. She was used to walking into grimy bars and being stared at, though. They hadn't reckoned on her being a woman from LA who worked as a private investigator; that was clear.