Hold A Highlander: A Scottish Time Travel Romance (A Highlander Across Time Book 3)

by Rebecca Preston

  "Save it," Carissa snapped. "We're alone. Now tell me — one witch to another — exactly what was the nature of the spell you used on Hugh to make him fall in love with you?"

  Real shock rippled across Niamh's face. Carissa pressed her advantage, aware that the girl was surprised by her honesty. "Come on, we don't have to play games now, do we? You cast some kind of spell — or was it a potion? Which herbs did you use?"

  "I didn't use anything," Niamh said, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation. "I'm not a witch –"

  "Come on. Your secret's safe with me," Carissa said, leering a little. "I respect how well you play the innocent little girl. Even the youth spell's brilliant — I wouldn't be able to tell it's not your true form if it wasn't what I was looking for –"

  "I'm not a witch!" Niamh snapped, clearly frightened. "That old hag Erin might be, and you, apparently, but not me!"

  "Okay, play it that way," Carissa shrugged, affecting nonchalance. "You clearly want this man for something — I just hope that my spell won't interfere with yours."

  "Your what?" Niamh crept closer, her eyes full of horror as Carissa pulled the vial out of her pocket. "What is that?"

  "Oh, come on, surely you recognize a love potion? A couple of pieces of hair, some herbs — you went through my journal, didn't you? You must have seen the recipe."

  Niamh nodded, and Carissa suppressed her flare of anger.

  "When I drink this, he'll fall head over heels in love with me. Permanently." She chuckled. "I wonder if your spell will still work? Maybe he'll be in love with both of us! I suppose we could share, hmm?"

  Niamh's face went black with anger. "No! Don't you dare!"

  But Carissa was too quick. She unscrewed the cap on the vial, lifting it to her lips — and suddenly, Niamh was on her. She felt the girl grab a fistful of her hair and yank her away from the vial, and before she could fight her, the vial was being snatched from her lips. Niamh stumbled back, holding the vial high, a triumphant look on her face — then she swallowed it in one gulp, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and cackled triumphantly.

  "Hah! Now he'll love me!" she crowed.

  Carissa waited, her heart pounding — and then, sure enough, a look of confusion began to creep across Niamh's face. The girl looked down at the empty vial in her hand, then dropped it into the straw, a puzzled look on her face. Carissa moved a little closer, biting her lip, worried despite herself — but Niamh looked up, her face suddenly clear.

  "Sorry — I seem to have — how did I get here?"

  Carissa felt a wave of relief rush over her. When Erin had explained how a memory loss spell worked, she'd been worried. The mind was a delicate thing — what if she did too much damage? "What do you remember?" she asked gently. There was no recognition on Niamh's face when she looked up at her, and she frowned slightly.

  "I was at home with my mother… I must have walked here. Where am I?"

  "You're in the stables at Dunscaith Castle," she said gently.

  Niamh blinked. "How strange! I was hoping to come to work here. Who are you?"

  "My name's Carissa," she said gently. But forgetting Carissa wasn't enough — she needed to be sure. "You might know my friend Hugh? Or his mother, Erin?"

  But Niamh's face was as blank and puzzled as it had been before. "No, I don't think so," she frowned. "I'm sorry."

  "That's alright, sweetheart." Carissa wanted to collapse in a relieved heap — but she had to wait for Niamh to go. After a few more puzzled apologies, the girl wandered off, heading homeward. Carissa followed her out, watching her wander through the gates, saw the guards exchanging confused glances… then her eyes widened at the sound of hoofbeats. A horse came charging through the gate, and Hugh leapt down from its back. She took a deep breath, readying herself for him to glare at her — but instead he rushed to her side, sweeping her into his arms.

  "I'm so, so sorry," he said, over and over — then he pulled back, gazing into her face, his expression anguished. "I've just come from my mother's cottage. She told me that it wasn't you that told Niamh that — Carissa, I thought — I thought that you'd — I'm so sorry. Niamh — she knows — she threatened to tell the witch hunters about my mother, I have to marry her. We can't be together. I'm so sorry —"

  She laughed dizzily, breathless, trying to get his attention. "Hugh! Listen to me! It's okay –"

  "Was that Niamh I saw on the road?" he said, frowning back over his shoulder. "Where was she going —"

  "Let me explain. I think you need something to eat," she said firmly, pulling him inside by the hand. He followed her, clearly confused, but it wasn't until he'd had a few bites of soup that she took a deep breath and explained the whole plan to him. The memory loss potion his mother had brewed, carefully made to take just Niamh's memories of the last three years. The way she'd tricked her into drinking it — then checked that she truly had forgotten him.

  "You mean — she doesn't know anything about my mother?"

  "Nothing at all," Carissa said, beaming. "I made sure to check. And not only has she forgotten everything about your mother — she's forgotten you, too. No more engagement, no more of her trying to manipulate you into marrying her. You're free."

  His eyes widened and he stared at her across the table, his meal completely forgotten. "You're sure?"

  "I'm sure," Carissa said, a grin spreading across her face. "I'm completely sure, Hugh. I trust your mother's magic more than anything."

  "Me too," he whispered, shaking his head. "But Carissa — how did you — why didn't you simply… I mean, if I'd been in your place, I'd have been furious with me." He reached out tentatively to take her hands in his — and the look on his face almost made her weep with gratitude that he was speaking to her again.

  "I knew," she said simply. "I knew it had to be some kind of misunderstanding that's all. I had faith. Faith in you. Faith in myself," she added thoughtfully. "And faith in us. We're meant to be together, Hugh. No seventeen-year-old is going to get in the way of that."

  He laughed, his eyes shining with unshed tears as he squeezed her hands. They were drawing curious glances from the crowd around them, but she couldn't bring herself to care. Later, there would be explanations to be made to just about everyone — and she was sure that rumors would fly for a good long time about exactly how her relationship with Hugh had gotten to this stage. But for now, all she cared about was the man sitting opposite her, squeezing her hands in his with a look in his eyes that told her he adored her.

  And finally, there were no obstacles left to stop them starting a life together.

  Chapter 25

  Spring in Scotland, it turned out, was absolutely gorgeous.

  Carissa grinned as she slung the saddle onto Scath's back with a practiced ease. After doing it every day for three months, she was getting very good at it indeed. Erin had stepped her lessons up to once a day since the altercation with Niamh — it seemed she'd proven herself trustworthy during all of that chaos. And though the fallout had been complex, it seemed that things were finally settling back down to normal.

  Niamh, for her part, was none the wiser. After she'd wandered back home to the village — and after a long and tearful reunion between Carissa and Hugh — Carissa had ridden into town to make sure that the girl had gotten home safely. She'd visited with her family, too, after an agonized period of self-reflection, terrified that something would go wrong with the memory adjustment — and worried, too, that Niamh might remember just enough about what had happened to claim witchcraft was responsible for her forgetfulness.

  But it turned out she needn't have worried. Niam's parents were more addled than she was, even with a three-year gap in her memory — Carissa visited for an hour or two, and when it became clear that seventeen-year-old Niamh was the sharpest soul in the house, she found herself able to relax. Neither of her parents seemed to notice that she'd even been gone — they couldn't even tell that Carissa, a complete stranger, was in the house. For her part, Niamh was pleasant eno
ugh to Carissa while she visited, and Carissa was left with the hope that the girl might turn over a new leaf. A kind of reset button, or something like that.

  On her way back to the castle, she stopped in with Erin. All six of the girls came rushing out to meet her, talking all at once, each offering an apology for how angry they'd been — it seemed their mother had explained the misunderstanding in detail. It felt so good to be back in the family's good graces… and she couldn't help but laugh at the way little Mary all but told her that Hugh would be proposing to her in the next few weeks.

  "Pretend to be surprised, would you?" Erin asked, her eyes twinkling.

  Carissa had nodded, her heart full of joy.

  "Does that mean I've got your blessing?"

  "Carissa Knox, you'd have any mother's blessing. I know you'll make my son as happy as he can be. Now, you'd best get back to the castle," she said, shaking a warning finger in her direction. "And don't forget. Bright and early tomorrow morning back here for advanced herbcraft."

  And so, the days had worn on. Hugh moved more or less officially into her quarters — for a little while, at least, until Maria, exasperated, had them moved into a more family-sized room on the ground floor, with a door that led straight outside and to the stables. As much as Carissa appreciated having more space, part of her was a little sad to be in a bigger bed with Hugh — there had been something so cozy about snuggling up together on the narrow bedframe. But they found other uses for the big bed — other, very exciting uses.

  In the end, he proposed to her on a cliff overlooking the ocean. They'd ridden out for a picnic, Hugh on his chestnut mare, Carissa on trusty old Scath, who had taken more and more of a shine to her as the days had gone on. Hugh pretended to be jealous, claiming that it was just that she'd bribed him with apples — but she could tell he was delighted that his favorite horse had made a new friend. And there, overlooking the ocean, he'd made a short speech about how he felt that Scathach herself had brought her here to be with him, and asked her to be his wife. It had been the easiest question in the world to answer — her only fear had been cutting him off too early with her enthusiastic 'yes'.

  Maria was her maid of honor, in the end, sharing the role with Edith, who was six months pregnant by the time of the ceremony and absolutely glowing. It was a simple, beautiful ceremony in the courtyard, with spring flowers decorating a simple wooden arch that they stood beneath to make their voices. Laird Cameron presided over the marriage, which was traditional, apparently — and everyone present pretended not to notice the tears that stood in his eyes as he wished his cousin all the best in his marriage.

  They invited Niamh and her family to the wedding, in the end — a decision that raised more than a few eyebrows, but one that they were both firm on. The girl had been nothing but civil and polite since the events had gone down, and Carissa couldn't help but suspect that Erin had put more than just memory altering herbs into the potion — that she'd done something to calm the girl's temperament. Whatever the case, she was a perfectly reasonable person now, and had even offered to teach Carissa a few more tricks when it came to sewing. She'd turned her down. Erin's eldest daughter Maggie was an adept seamstress and had offered to take over her instruction in that regard — Carissa was worried about tempting fate by having Niamh spend too much time around Hugh.

  The stablemaster, for his part, rarely left her side except for work — and even when he was working, she found excuse after excuse to be with him. Aside from studying herbcraft with Erin, she had few responsibilities — she took to doing her study in the stables, sitting in an enormous pile of straw and chatting idly with Hugh as she read about herbs and he took care of the horses. The grooms had all offered apologies for their poor treatment of her during what she was coming to think of as 'The Great Misunderstanding', and she was on good terms with them all, often bringing down lunches or snacks to share with them while they were working.

  And she was writing poetry again. It had happened suddenly — a bolt of inspiration had struck, and she'd simply jotted down a few lines. But where her poetry had usually come from a dark place, this was quite the opposite — she found herself so full of joy that it felt necessary to get some of it down onto a page. She hadn't exactly marketed herself as a poet, so her friends tended to be surprised when she shared her work with them — but they were encouraging, and she was considering getting some kind of writing circle going. Several of her sisters-in-law seemed interested in learning the skill — when they weren't bickering with one another about magic, of course.

  And today was a special day. She was riding down to Erin's cottage — not for her usual herbcraft lesson, but for a family lunch, something she'd been looking forward to for a long time. She had handmade shortbread cookies tucked into her satchel to share — a recipe she'd managed to remember from her own time and made a few adjustments to over the weeks of being here to make it work in old-fashioned ovens. They tasted almost exactly as she remembered them… it always made her smile fondly, thinking of her mother, who'd taught her the recipe. That was the only thing she regretted — not being able to tell her mother and father how happy she was, how she'd finally found her place.

  Maybe they knew, though, she reflected thoughtfully as she urged Scath across the courtyard and through the castle gates. Maybe they sensed it, somehow. Weren't they connected, somehow, deep down? Maybe if she tried hard enough, willed it strongly enough, a message would by some means get through to her mother and father. A message about how happy she was, how she'd finally found a place in the world that filled her with absolute joy. Depression didn't stalk her anymore — it was a distant presence, like a cloud on the horizon, easy as anything to keep at bay when she remembered her mountain of blessings. The fresh air, the clear blue sky above her, her doting husband and enormous extended family who'd taken her into their hearts… with all of those blessings, it was impossible to feel anything but joyful for long.

  She barely had to steer Scath, so familiar was the black gelding with the path to Erin's cottage. Hugh was already there, she knew — he'd ridden on ahead to help his mother with the cooking, and she'd agreed to join later with her own contribution. When she arrived, half of the girls were in the garden, fetching some herbs from the garden beds out there — flavorsome herbs, not medicinal, she thought with some amusement. Leah wasn't interested in anything else. The twins waved to her cheerfully, and she laughed when she saw Mary, already in full flight, talking a mile a minute about some new subject that Carissa was no doubt going to struggle to keep up with.

  "There she is!" Erin said brightly when she headed into the kitchen.

  "It smells divine in here," Carissa said, beaming as she drew the shortbread cookies from her satchel.

  "Ah, but can you identify all twelve of the herbs she's used?" That was Hugh, straightening up from the oven with a grin, an apron draped over his broad frame.

  She giggled as he scooped her into his arms, pressing a kiss to her forehead before setting her back down. "A witch never reveals her secrets," Carissa said archly, drawing a chuckle from Erin. "What can I do? How can I help? What contribution can I make?"

  "Well, Maggie's setting the table outdoors," Erin said, pointing. "You can help her."

  Sure enough, the enormous dining table had been moved outside, and Maggie was fussing with the table settings. Carissa joined her, and before too long the table was set and groaning with food. Erin had outdone herself — it was a veritable feast. Roast spring vegetables, several platters of meat — the girls chattered away as she reached out to squeeze Hugh's hand under the table. She couldn't believe they'd only been married a month. It felt like the most natural thing in the world — like they'd been together for years. She knew him better than she'd ever known anyone… and she knew without even thinking that he knew her just as well.

  "It's a month, isn't it?" Erin said, raising an eyebrow as she glanced at the two of them. The woman always had had an uncanny knack for saying what she was thinking — Carissa was mo
re or less used to it by now, though she did sometimes worry that Erin knew more than she was letting on about what was going on in her head.

  "Feels like forever," Hugh said with a smile, pressing another kiss to her forehead.

  "And it will be," Carissa said with a smile, squeezing his hand.

  "Gross," Leah contributed, wrinkling her nose.

  Hugh chuckled, grabbing his little sister and mussing her hair in a gesture that it seemed hadn't changed since the medieval era.

  "Hugh! Stop it!"

  "Be nice to your sister," Erin said automatically… then glanced at Carissa conspiratorially, following her gaze to where Mary and Bonnie were animatedly arguing about something. "What about you?"

  "Me?"

  "When can we expect to be introduced to your small army of children?"

  She blushed. "Erin, now I know you're a mind reader."

  Erin laughed. "With a look on your face like that? I don't need to be able to read minds to know what's on yours."

  "Put it this way," Carissa said thoughtfully as Hugh's little sisters turned on their older brother, wrestling him from his chair. "It's been a while since I brewed that fertility tea you told me about."

  Erin beamed… and Carissa couldn't help but smile too as she glanced up at the broad blue sky, felt the cool air on her skin, and reflected for what must have been the millionth time on just how lucky she was to be here, right now. Coming here had been the craziest thing that had ever happened to her… and the more she thought about it, the more she knew, deep in her bones, that it had been an answered prayer. And whoever she had to thank for that — magic, or fate, or Scathach herself — she'd be in their debt for the rest of her happy, happy life.

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