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

by Gill, Tamara

"Thank you. I'm happy too, for the first time in what seems like years."

  Maya poured them both a cup of honey wine, handing a cup to Jeane. "Do you think you'll marry him?"

  "He's asked me, and I've said yes. I merely have to tell Boyd. I hope he approves."

  "I cannot see him disapproving. They're friends, are they not?"

  "Aye, they are, but Boyd will not expect it of me, and he'll worry that I shall be hurt again should anything happen to Douglas. Considering that Douglas is Boyd's head guardsman."

  "Let us hope nothing happens ever to Douglas or yourself, and Boyd approves." Maya finished her breakfast, and they spoke of going back down to the bathing pools should Boyd agree. For all of Boyd saying she smelled like a rose, Maya did not think that was the case. They spoke of the farmers who would attend today and how long that would take. By the time they finished, Boyd was ready to sit back beside her and start his day.

  Jeane excused herself, and Maya watched as discreetly as possible beside the hall door as Douglas and Jeane made their farewells for the day.

  She cast a glance at Boyd to see where he was looking, but he was staring at her. Maya started, having not expected him to be watching her. Or the spark of desire that flamed to life whenever he was near made her want to do things with him, no matter who was around.

  "I know of their dealings, Maya lass. Doona trouble yourself in trying to lie for my cousin."

  Relief ran through her like a balm. "Oh, thank God for that," she said, sighing. "I didn't want to lie to you since you've been so good to me, but I'm glad you know."

  "Like I told you, lass, there is nothing that happens in this castle or on my land that I doona know about."

  The doors to the hall opened, and in walked all the farmers, young and old, who had business with the laird. They were dressed in worn tunics, stained trews from their work on the land. Their wives, who followed them, were a little less disheveled. Even so, their status of being the lowest class in the clan was obvious.

  Maya's heart went out to them, and so very thankful that in her time, at least, people were able to gain help when living on the poverty line. Perhaps she could speak to Boyd and try to get him to change his people's living conditions. Help them have a better quality of life.

  The farmers lined up behind each other, their gazes flicking between Boyd and herself, and she could see that her seated beside the laird was of interest to them.

  "Gregory, what can I do you for?" Boyd asked the first gentleman. The older man, possibly in his late sixties, stepped forward and pointed a gnarled finger at Maya.

  "You can start by ridding Macleod land of that witch. Her being here has brought bad luck on us all."

  Maya felt her mouth drop open. Boyd stilled, and no sound whispered in the Great Hall. Boyd leaned forward, and even from where Maya sat, she could feel his anger, that he was holding his fury in check. She didn't dare move or speak. Nor could she stop looking at him in all his glory, a Highland laird, straight out of the history books, powerful, strong, and in charge of all he commanded.

  He was captivating and scary as hell.

  "What did you say, Gregory? Perhaps you would like to repeat your question before I give you my reply."

  Chapter 16

  The clans people gathered, yelled in Gaelic, others in English, but none of what they said boded well for Maya. That she knew for certain. Farmers raised their arms, flailing at the clansmen who stood to the sides, everyone ill at ease over what was said, some against, others for the charge she was a witch and bringing bad luck to the clan.

  Fear spiked through her when Gregory, the farmer who had accused her, stepped forward, daring to lean on the table and shout at her to her face.

  In a flash, a blade, long and true, was at the farmer's throat, a nick of blood spilling from its point. The room went silent at the sight of Boyd holding the man within an inch of death.

  "There will be calm here," he bellowed in both Gaelic and English.

  The farmer’s eyes were wide, his mouth turned down in a defiant frown, and Maya wondered if he would be foolish enough to continue with his claim.

  "My chickens have disappeared, Macleod. How do you explain such a thing?" one woman shouted.

  "My crops are trampled, ripped up overnight, and with not a sign that it was men or their horses. ’Tis like they came from the sky," another declared.

  Their faces were pale, and Maya could see they believed something otherworldly impacted their lives. After what had happened to her, her own trip through time, nothing seemed out of the box anymore.

  Boyd drew his dirk back from the farmer's throat, pushing him away. The older man stumbled into the gathered crowd, holding his hand up to stem the flow of blood oozing from the wound.

  "I am willing to hear you, but doona think I shall tolerate disrespect to my guest or my authority. We are not a rabble like our enemy clans, fighting within ourselves. We doona act that way. We shall remember who we are and what our clan stands for."

  Maya didn't dare say a word. Everyone seemed so upset that she was here, and it only reaffirmed that she could not stay. Even if she was a little infatuated and in lust with the laird, this time wasn't for her. If they thought her a witch, what would they think if they knew she'd arrived from a future time none of them could comprehend?

  It was odd that they seemed to not fear their laird, a man who neither aged nor could die. She could only put it down to the fact that perhaps the people under Boyd's care could only take so much magic in their lives. The Fae meddling in their Scottish lives was one thing, time travel another altogether.

  "Maya is not the problem," Boyd stated, his voice calm but with an edge of steel that even she could discern. "If your animals have been dying or disappearing overnight, if your crops are trampled and ripped out, ’tis because the O’Cain clan are determined to start a war. We have caught their clansmen twice on our lands, the last time not far from the castle itself. If they are bold enough to try to steal from under my nose, they will have no issue with stealing from the farms on outlying Macleod lands."

  The farmers and some clansmen who also showed concern over her presence took in Boyd's words, their eyes narrowing in thought. The room quietened, calmed somewhat. Still, Maya kept her eyes lowered, trying to show the people she did not mean them harm, that it was not her being here that caused the strife.

  "What I have failed to tell my people is that the Fae Queen has returned. After a hundred years, she is seeking to cause discord. Between the Fae and the O’Cains, I have little doubt as to who is behind your misfortune."

  Audible gasps sounded, the women's eyes widened in fear. Maya wished she could go to them, comfort them in their concern, but she dare not. Right now, Boyd and she were outnumbered, and should they not like or agree with the laird’s words, she wasn't sure where that would leave them.

  Probably dead. At least she would be. Boyd couldn't be killed.

  "Maya lass is no witch, but she is being mocked by the Fae, for reasons I doona know. But I will discern. As for your farms, I shall have men sent out to our farming lands to watch over you and keep you safe and free from theft and strife. Your concerns are heard, and I will not let any further harm come to you. Doona worry, I shall not fail you again."

  Boyd's speech seemed to soothe the clansmen, farmers, and soldiers all. Maya wiped the sweat from her palms on her gown, taking a deep breath to dispel the nerves eating at her insides.

  "All will be well, lass. Doona fret," Boyd said, catching her eye before turning back to the crowd gathered before them. "Now, is there anything else that is needin' to be discussed? If so, come forward and speak with me."

  The clan dispersed a little after Boyd's announcement. Yet, some farmers remained and came up to the laird and told him of their issues. They ranged from asking for two families being joined together in marriage, grievances between farmers that had nothing to do with Maya, thankfully, of cottages that needed repairs, new thatch before the winter snow storms settled on the H
ighlands. Of sick children in need of care.

  As he listened, Maya watched how Boyd ordered his men to carry out the repairs or send for the apothecary. Every trouble or request was met to the farmers’ satisfaction. Maya did not think it was always so that lairds of great lands such as the Macleods would look after their people so well, but she was glad Boyd seemed willing to be a fair and kind leader for his people. Even after the trouble when first they spoke.

  It made him all the more inspiring.

  The discussions took several hours, and it was just past luncheon when the last farmer left the hall. Boyd stood, stretched; and ordered wine in his solar. "I shall see you at dinner, lass. There is a pile of correspondence that I need to attend to."

  She nodded, watching him go just as Jeane came into the hall. "Maya lass. Come, I have a surprise for you."

  Maya stood, her bones aching, her bottom almost numb after the many hours of sitting, only too glad to go with Jeane to see her surprise. With any luck, it would be an hour-long massage. How she'd love to have one of those right about now. One day, she promised herself. When she returned to her own time in the world. A spa day sounded perfect.

  Boyd read through his correspondence from several allied clans, all of whom voiced their troubles with the O’Cains and the clan’s increasing raids and thievery.

  It could not go on. Boyd had been lucky that to date, no one had been killed other than the O’Cains on his land, but he knew that luck would not hold for long. Eventually, he would lose men, women, and children, perhaps to the bastard clan, and that he could not allow to happen. The O’Cains would be brought to heel.

  Douglas strode into his solar, and Boyd stood, noting the man's ashen face. "What is it?" Boyd asked, knowing something was wrong.

  "’Tis Jeane and Maya. They have disappeared. We canna find them anywhere."

  Boyd picked up his sword and plaid, throwing the woolen tartan over his shoulders, and strode from the room. Thoughts of O’Cain men having Maya and his cousin made the blood in his veins run cold. They would rape and kill them, use them for their misdeeds, and not care how much they tortured them before ridding them of their mortal shell.

  He walked through the hall, straight out into the keep, calling for his men to saddle horses, ride out in search of the women.

  If the O’Cains didn't kill them both, then he surely would when he got his hands on them. They knew not to go anywhere without his escort. How dare they go against his orders for a second time?

  "Look down near the heated pools, at Druiminn, and along the river. Mayhap they have gone to bathe or visit some of the crofters on the land. Bring them back to the castle. I shall deal with them here."

  Boyd mounted his horse, kicking it into a gallop out of the gates, and started down by the river. There was no sound other than the horse's hooves breaking the ground beneath him, of its heavy breathing the farther he traveled.

  What felt like hours passed, the afternoon darkened, and he knew soon they would be out of light. That if Maya and Jeane were out somewhere in the Highlands, they would not be able to search for them until the breaking dawn.

  He returned to the castle to the news they had not returned. He jumped from his horse, panic rising in his gut.

  Where the damndest were the blasted women!

  "We rode out toward O’Cain land, but there isna any sign they have been on our lands. Some outlying farmers returning after today's hearing have not seen either lady," Thomas said, a frown between his brow.

  Boyd ran a hand through his hair, unsure of what to do. What else could he do? He was powerless in situations like this. If the lasses had left and stumbled into trouble, they could be anywhere by now if they were not already dead.

  "They were not down by the heated pools." Douglas looked as ill as Boyd felt. Damn the idiot women. Would Jeane never learn to do as told? As for Maya, she was as tenacious and obstinate as his cousin.

  He would redden both their hides when he saw them again.

  If you see them again.

  He pushed the taunting voice away in his head. Not willing to contemplate such a thought.

  Laughter and women's chatter caught his attention, and he turned to see Maya and Jeane climb the stairs that led down to the seafront the castle overlooked.

  Everyone present in the yard, servants and clansmen alike, stared at the women, the two completely oblivious to the clan's concern as they continued to walk and chatter away like old tavern wenches.

  Boyd crossed his arms, staring at them until they saw him. Both women caught his eye, their smiles slipping as they took in the clan watching them. No one present pleased with how they had spent the afternoon—looking for two senseless lasses.

  "Is something the matter, Boyd?" Jeane asked, wrapping her arm around Maya's as if to protect her from him.

  "Go to your rooms, both of you. I shall speak to you both before we break our fast this night."

  Maya's large, blue eyes met his, and he could see she was as confused as his cousin. None of that mattered right now. Anger thrummed through him at the thought they had disobeyed him for a second time. That they had placed themselves in danger still made his emotions high. How could he keep them safe when they both continued to go rogue on him and his rules?

  Not that they had done anything wrong from the appearance of it all. They were both perfectly fine down by the sea on that part of the castle grounds. His anger arose from the fact he'd not known where they were. That he may have lost Maya before he'd come to know her as much as he hankered to.

  His attraction to the lass was impossible to deny. There were days where he'd thought of nothing but Maya. Of her long, dark locks so unlike his own. Her lithe form her kirtle accentuated most pleasantly. Even the guilt that arose within him with his lustful thoughts had not materialized of late. Did it mean he was ready to move forward? Maybe never love again, but at least find comfort within the arms of a woman after so many years of being alone.

  Sorcha had been a passionate, beautiful, and caring wife. For years he'd soothed his screaming soul that she would be faithful to him, that she would not have married a being of her kind. Even now, the thought of such a thing made his stomach churn, and yet, he knew she would have. A hundred years was a long time to remain chaste, to go on without passion and love.

  Boyd wasn't so certain he could do so any longer.

  Chapter 17

  Maya was chilled after walking about the rocky shore that castle Druiminn overlooked. They had searched the small ponds left filled with water at low tide, looking for crabs and small fish, shells and driftwood, anything really that caught their eye.

  The afternoon had been pleasant, full of laughter and fun. However, her feet were as frozen as a block of ice, and if she placed them any closer to the fire, they might catch alight. Even so, they remained cold to the point her toes ached.

  The dancing flames reminded her of Boyd and his fiery temper. Whatever was wrong with the man? They had not been out of the castle grounds. The whole afternoon they had been in sight of a guard who stood watch over them.

  His anger at seeing them walk up the stone stairs to enter the bailey made no sense at all.

  Footsteps sounded on the wooden passage before a light knock sounded.

  "Come in," she called, knowing by the steps it was Boyd. He entered, shutting the door behind him. His dark-green eyes took in her room before settling on her.

  "Are you cold, lass?" he asked, closing the space between them. He kneeled beside her, picking up her feet. "They're freezing."

  She gasped when he placed them on his legs and rubbed her skin briskly. His large, coarse hands sent heat to spiral through her, and not just her toes. Maya couldn't hold back the small grin of pleasure his touch wrought through her.

  "We were walking around in the shallows while the tide was out. I was searching for fish and crabs. When the sun dipped behind the clouds and then the mountains, needless to say, it grew too cold to stay out. They'll warm up soon, I'm sure."
/>   "You'll catch your death."

  She watched him avoid her eyes, and she couldn't help but wonder why. Although she had a good idea. Not that she had ever been overly aware of men or how to read them, but Boyd wasn't like most men. He was a highlander, wore his protection of others like a badge of honor, and his concern for her was true. But not to look at her, well, Maya couldn't help but hope it was because to look at her would mean she could look into the green depths of his eyes and read him like a book. And his growing feelings for her.

  His touch on her feet changed, grew languorous. His fingers dug into the undersides of her feet, massaging the cold flesh back to life. "If you tickle me, I may kick you in the nose. Don't press too hard." She grinned at him, and finally, he glanced up. It was all she needed to understand. To know he was hiding behind his shield of himself.

  He didn't say a word, and he didn't need to. Maya slipped her legs out of his hold, placing herself closer to him. He did not move, nor did he reach for her, but she knew what she was about, what she wanted.

  Boyd.

  "I want to kiss you again," she admitted, watching those very lips that fascinated her, that were as soft as silk and deadly as sin, open a little with an intake of breath. Maya shuffled closer still. He smelled of leather, of man and spice. She licked her lips, wanting to taste him. To lose herself in his arms. If only he would allow himself to find some small piece of pleasure in his long life.

  He pulled back, denying her, but Maya wouldn't let him go so fast. They had been playing this cat-and-mouse game for days. She reached up, clasping his stubbled jaw. Pain flicked in his eyes, and she knew he was fighting a war within himself, a pledge to remain chaste, without love, without a woman who was not his wife.

  He may not love her. Hell, she certainly didn't think what she was feeling right now came anywhere near love, but she did like Boyd. She certainly lusted over him, and she was a twenty-first-century woman. If she wanted a man, nothing was stopping her from going for him so long as he was willing.