To Win a Highland Scot: A Time-Traveler’s Highland Love, Book 3

by Gill, Tamara

  Chapter 10

  The following day Maya woke early and dressed to meet Jeane downstairs before the clansmen had entered the hall to break their fast. Today they were leaving the castle grounds to go to some secluded pool beside the river that ran before Druiminn Castle. The local women used the pool, sheltered by rocks and trees, to bathe and catch up on local gossip, or so Jeane told her.

  So well hidden from those who did not know it was there, it made it the perfect location for such activity.

  Maya quickly ate the porridge Mrs. Fletcher laid out before her, too excited to eat much else. It had been four days since she'd been able to bathe, and her hair alone, itchy and too oily for her sanity, needed a good scrub.

  What she wouldn't do to have shampoo or a toothbrush right at this moment.

  One of the castle maids bustled into the hall, looking about the room before she spotted Maya and came toward her. The woman's determination caught her attention, and Maya stood, going to her before she reached the dais.

  "Miss Maya, I have a message from Mistress Jeane. She'll be unable to attend with you this morning at the pools. She's come down with a megrim and is feeling poorly. She told me to tell you to go along without her. She apologizes for not accompanying you."

  Disappointment stabbed at Maya. She could not go without a respectable chaperone, and Mrs. Fletcher was too busy with her castle chores to take time off so that Maya could wash.

  "May I bring something to her to make her feel better? I cannot go without her, so please let me know if there is anything that I can do."

  "’Tis nothing for you to do, Miss Maya." The maid bobbed a quick curtsy. "Good morning to you."

  Maya watched her go. She would go out into the vegetable garden and pick some ginger. Ginger biscuits made people feel better when they were ill. At least it was supposed to help women who were pregnant. If someone had a megrim, whatever that was, some sort of grimace of the body Maya assumed, then a cup of ginger tea or biscuits would surely help.

  "I will walk you down to the pool, Maya lass. You shouldn't be going without my escort in any case."

  Maya gasped, having not heard Boyd enter the hall. Somehow he was behind her, his deep, gravelly voice making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

  She refused to shiver or sigh at his presence. She didn't need him knowing that he affected her. Last night at the dais she had fallen into his beautiful green eyes, and almost kissed him. And not anywhere, but at the main table, before all his clansmen.

  Forced back to medieval Scotland or not, she was not here to fall for a guy totally out of her league, but neither could she ignore the attraction she had for him. Other than her two friends, Molly and Heidi, she may not have a lot to go back to in the twenty-first century, but that didn't mean she could do what she liked here. Boyd had been alone for so many years. He needed to find his soul mate, and while she knew that wouldn’t be her, she also knew that the attraction she felt for this man was nothing like any she’d had before.

  Maya turned and regarded the magnificent man towering over her, reveling in his presence. His tunic that hugged his muscular form, the clan-colored shawl thrown over one shoulder, and trews would make any woman purr with pleasure. His dark eyes and chiseled cheeks with a sprinkling of hair made him look wickedly handsome. A dirk hung from the belt about his waist, and she would lay money that the laird had a sgian dubh in the stocking on his right leg.

  "I'm going to bathe, Macleod. Do you think it would be appropriate for you to attend me?"

  "Nay, I often escort and keep guard over the women who use the pools. ’Tis no different and will not be inappropriate should I take you too. Go and get your things, and I shall meet you in the bailey."

  Maya didn't need any further prodding. She ran up the stone staircase, grabbed her things and met Boyd out the front of the castle. They left via the castle gates and started down a small worn track that led toward the river.

  It wasn't long before the tall tree foliage left dappled light on them, the undergrowth much damper and cooler than up at the castle. The sound of trickling water ran somewhere in the distance.

  "I used to swim here as a lad. The pool is deep in parts but shallow in others. Perfect for bathing."

  "Will it not be cold?" she asked, rubbing her arms as the air chilled further the deeper they went into the forest and the louder the running water became.

  "’Tis a mystery as to why the pool is the way it is, but you will not be cold. I promise you." He threw her a wicked glance, and goosebumps rose on her skin. Maya had the absolute feeling his words had a second meaning to them.

  They only walked a little farther, and the forest gave way to a clearing of green grass, a steaming aqua pool, almost perfectly circular within its position. The pool was secluded by a massive rock face that curved around it. Small flowers grew within the grass and upon the rock's lower edges, giving the pool the look of a well-landscaped oasis.

  "The water is heated?" she gasped, walking quickly to the water’s edge, reaching in to feel it. Delicious warmth engulfed her hand. The thought of being submerged in the pool, bathing, and relaxing for an hour or so was beyond exciting.

  "Aye, the water is heated from the underground. ‘Tis a natural phenomenon.” He looked about, frowning a little. “I'm surprised there is no one else here this morning. I'm sure other women will be along soon."

  Maya wasn't bothered to have the pool all to herself. Communal bathing wasn't something she was used to doing, and nor was she used to a hulking, light-haired god of a man keeping watch over her. He better not try to sneak a peek. Or perhaps she wouldn’t mind so much if he did.

  "I'll be alright on my own." She stared at him, didn't say another word, just waited for him to realize she was waiting for him to leave.

  "I'll, ah," he stammered, stepping back the way they came. "I'll be waiting up the path a little for you. Shout if you need anything, lass."

  "Thank you. I will." Maya watched until Boyd was out of sight, and then she quickly stripped, placing her towel, or linens as they called them, close to the pool before stepping into the warm water.

  She ducked her head, coming up and laughing at the wonderous feeling of so much warm water about her body. The hip bath she had to use in the castle was tiny and made it hard to bathe properly.

  "So you are the lass Macleod has taken an interest in. I wonder what he would do if I sent you home right now."

  Maya gasped at the sound of the female voice behind her. She turned and felt the blood drain from her face at the vision of the woman who stood on the grassy bank.

  No, she did not stand. She hovered, her silk-slippered feet standing on nothing but air.

  Oh, dear God. Was this woman a ghost! Was she seeing dead people now as well as time-traveling?

  "You're not real," she said, squeezing her eyes shut. She opened them again, fear churning in her stomach when the woman did not disappear. Simply stared at her with flickering silver eyes, long, white flowing robes, and hair as colorless as Boyd's.

  "Who are you?" she asked, wrapping her arms around her chest to cover her breasts.

  The ghost smiled, and yet, the gesture did not meet her eyes. They remained cold and aloof. Even surrounded by the warm water, Maya shivered.

  "I'm known as the Gyre Carling, Nicnevin, but to my own kind, I'm called Titania."

  Her own kind? What did that mean? The floating woman lowered herself and came to stand on the grass, peering at Maya.

  "You're a beautiful woman, as pretty as Sorcha." At the mention of Boyd's first wife's name, the woman's eyes flickered, as if a light illuminated behind her iris. "I can see why he's taken with you."

  "Macleod is no more interested in me as I am with him," she lied, knowing full well that some of the looks Boyd had bestowed on her meant Maya could take their knowing of each other further. Take it all the way to the bedroom if she wanted.

  The woman walked along the bank, staring up at the surrounding forest. "I did not think that M
acleod would ever find love again. I'm surprised that you are here. How is it that you came to be in sixteenth-century Scotland?"

  Maya frowned, a warning voice in the recesses of her mind telling her not to trust this woman. Not to tell her anything. "I've traveled from England. I'm not from anywhere else. Your questions make no sense."

  The woman's laugh echoed through the trees, sending them to rustle as if a strong wind had suddenly risen. When she spoke next, her voice was odd, disjointed, and seemed to pierce her skin like a thousand needles. "Do not mock me, human. I know you're from a time hundreds of years from now. I need to know how you came to be here."

  Maya stepped back farther into the pool, distancing herself. "You're the Fae Queen. You forgot to mention that name with your many others."

  "I will return."

  The woman disappeared just as Boyd ran into the clearing. He held his sword in his hand, and the thunderous scowl on his face sent fear to thrum through her veins.

  "Where is she?" His roaring voice made her jump, and Maya feared both Boyd and the queen right at that moment.

  Maya pointed to the sky because that's where the woman went—disappeared into thin air.

  The Fae Queen. The fairy who cursed Boyd for eternity was now interested in her. Wanted information. But why?

  This was destined not to end well. Not well at all.

  Chapter 11

  Boyd put everyone at the castle on watch. He doubled the men keeping watch surrounding the castle lands. He had them positioned on the outer castle wall, his archers ready for anything that came their way. Around the clock, he had guards within reach of Maya's sleeping quarters.

  He would not let the Fae Queen get her troubling, mischief, life-ruining talons into another woman under his care.

  Even if that woman wasn't the one he loved.

  Maya Harris was at Druiminn under her family's wishes. They did not need to lose her to the Fae Queen. Have notice of her disappearance or death.

  Boyd did not want that on his conscience. Maya would be safer if he returned her home, but the thought of sending her away, of not seeing her again, shredded his innards.

  Even so, it would be for the best. With determined strides, he closed the distance to her room. After what happened at the heated pool, he'd asked Maya to remain in her quarters for the remainder of the day. He needed time to place his men on guard and notify the clan that the Fae were causing trouble once more.

  He rapped on her door, listened as the sound of her feet on the wooden floor beyond creaked as she made her way across the room.

  She peered out, swinging the door wide when she realized it was him.

  He walked in without being invited and shut the door firmly on the two guards who stood watch.

  "You need to leave, lass. ’Tis not safe for you here any longer, and while I know your family may be disappointed in you not finding a match with the Chief of Clan Macleod, I shall sleep better knowing you are hundreds of miles away. Back in England where you belong."

  The blood drained out of her face, and she stumbled back. Boyd reached out, stopping her from falling. "What is wrong with you, lass? Did the Fae Queen do something to you before I could get to you?"

  The idea of Maya being used for the Fae Queen's sick amusement made his blood boil. He would not tolerate any further difficulty from the Fae. Not even if it cost him his life. He'd lived long enough in any case. He would die with honor, knowing he saved at least one innocent from the queen's wicked touch.

  "No, the queen didn't do anything to me. But I can't go back, Macleod. I have nothing to go back to."

  She shook free of his hold. Walked to a chair beside the fire and flopped into it as if life had beaten her down.

  He joined her, leaning on the mantel. The peat and wood fire in the room burned well, and the space was comfortable and warm. Even though they were enjoying warm days, the castle was thick-walled, cold, and damp without the fires running all year round.

  "Your family will welcome you back. I shall write them a missive. Explain why we doona suit. But you canna remain here. The queen knows you are here, and her interest is piqued. She will not leave you alone now."

  Maya reached out, clasping his hands. Her eyes held his, a beseeching light burning bright, or were those tears he saw forming?

  "I cannot go back to England, Macleod." She shook her head, biting her lip. "I’m not from England. At least, not your England."

  Boyd frowned, her words making no sense. "What do you mean?" A discernment of foreboding ran down his spine, and he was certain the next words out of her mouth would not be to his liking.

  "Please don't be angry with me, or Mrs. Fletcher. She didn't know what to do when I arrived, and neither did I."

  "Explain yourself, lass," he stated as evenly as he could. He took a calming breath, smoothed his forehead, where he could feel a scowl forming.

  "I'm not from the sixteenth-century England. I'm from the twenty-first century."

  For a moment, Boyd could do nothing but stare at the lass. He opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to form words. What was she talking about? Twenty-first century? Had she hit her head at the heated pools today that he had not seen?

  "I touched the tapestry that you're now having made. The one that depicts you losing your wife Sorcha to the Fae. I know all about that story. In my time, I touched it, and it sent me back here. I landed in the Great Hall, only to find Mrs. Fletcher staring at me as if I were a ghost. I suppose in a way, I was."

  His mind whirled with the lass's words. Was she from the future? He ground his teeth, thinking over her arrival, her oddness. It made sense that the Fae Queen, after a hundred years of silence, would show her face on his lands when something caught her attention. A woman from the twenty-first century would certainly do that. The queen wanted Maya, but for what ends he could not fathom. Not yet at least.

  "What did the Fae Queen ask of you, lass? Tell me. It could save your life and that of my clansmen."

  Maya bit her lip as she contemplated his question. Even with him as mad as he was with the situation, the action made his blood burn hot in his veins. The lass had intrigued him from the moment he saw her, and now he understood why. She was from the future. Was not used to their ancient way of life. The Scottish culture, or speech. Maya was misplaced in time. That was what made her so different from all the other women paraded before him.

  "She asked me how I came to be here. I did not tell her," she quickly added.

  Boyd was pleased to hear that she did not, but that did not mean the queen was not lurking about, listening to their conversations.

  "Doona talk to her again. She's after you for some reason, needs to know that truth. I will speak to Mrs. Fletcher and tell her not to tell a soul."

  "So you won't send me away? If you make me go back to England, I'll be homeless and with no way to return to my time. I need to stay here until the tapestry is finished," she whispered, looking about the room as if she expected the queen to be sitting nearby. "I was hoping that when you hung it up in the castle, that if I touched it again, I would return to the twenty-first century."

  The thought was a sound one. As sound as any such thought could be when one was discussing time travel. Magic.

  "I will not send you away. I trust that what you say is true. That I have lived for a hundred years cursed by the Fae is proof enough that time travel is not without possibility. We will hope that when the tapestry is complete, you can return to your time."

  She smiled a little at him, and Boyd realized he would miss the lass. She was a breath of fresh air in the stale castle walls.

  "Thank you so much, Boyd," she said, using his given name. She jumped from her chair, throwing herself at him, wrapping her arms about his neck.

  Boyd froze at the feel of her womanly curves against his chest. Her breasts flattened against him, the sweet scent of lilies wafted from her skin and hair.

  She smelled divine, clean after her bath at the heated pool. Automatically, hi
s hands wrapped about her waist, holding her against him.

  He indulged in the feel of her. How many years had it been since he'd felt a woman in his arms? A woman who wanted to be with him in such a way and not afraid to hold him?

  Boyd shut his eyes a moment, reveling in her embrace. He'd missed having a woman. He missed their feminine curves, their sweet kisses.

  Worse, he wanted the woman in his hold more than he’d wanted anyone before. And now, soon, she would leave. Return to her time, and there was nothing he would do to stop her. The choice would be hers, and he knew she would make it. Leave him. Leave him in the past where he belonged.

  Maya held Boyd tight, refused to let him go, even though she knew she should. She had already hugged him for longer than what the gesture required. He would think her an idiot soon if she did not let go.

  His silver-white hair tickled her nose, and it smelled of herbs as if he too had bathed recently. She was uncommonly aware of the corded muscles that made up his abdomen. His large hands that ran up her back and held her against him. Heat pooled at her core. She breathed deep, knowing that no matter how much she may deny her thoughts, she wanted the man in her arms.

  It had been almost a year since she'd been with a guy. They had only dated two weeks. After he'd had her in his bed, she'd not heard from him again—the bloody asshole.

  Maya pushed the thought aside. Her mind solely focused on what Boyd was doing. His hand started to stroke her back, her impromptu hug having altered somehow in the past few seconds.

  Neither of them seemed in any rush to let the other go. Maya pulled back, meeting his gaze. The hungry, determined burn in his eyes made her stomach clench. His chest rose and fell with labored breaths. Was he forcing himself to hold back, not to close the small space between their lips and kiss her? She wanted him to kiss her. She licked her lips in preparation, heat pooling between her legs in an embarrassing flood of need.

  The word finally fluttered through her mind. She wanted him terribly.