Promised to a Highland Laird

by Sky Purington

  Robert only chuckled, the look on his face confident that he would eventually find out all he needed to know.

  It wasn’t long before a vast encampment appeared through the trees. Christina slowed then stopped, her eyes wide as she took it all in. From the blue and white Scottish flags blowing in the wind to the endless men, horses, tents, and campfires not to mention weapons. Lots and lots of those.

  Robert and Grant stopped as well, then everyone else. They must have realized that this was all finally hitting her. Where she was and what was happening.

  “Darling, why don’t you sit,” Lindsay said softly, “and take a moment to gather yourself.”

  “No, it’s okay,” Christina murmured, staring at everything for a stretch before she shook her head. “I’m okay.”

  “Aye?” Graham asked. “’Tis a lot. ‘Twould be understandable if ye need to take some time.”

  “Time?” She snorted. “I think taking time or swoonin’ at the sight of so many warriors is the last thing I should be doing.” Christina forced a chuckle and tried to look calmer than she felt as she met Graham's eyes. “I’m all right, sugar. Don’t you worry.”

  When he grinned, she couldn’t help but grin right back. The man knew how to lighten her mood, didn’t he?

  “Please, come to my tent and break yer fast with me,” Robert said. “All of ye. I insist.”

  Nothing was more comforting than Graham taking her hand as they continued. Men far and wide stopped what they were doing as they passed, their eyes trained on either her, Lindsay, or Kenna. Some stared at them from around fires as they ate or while they sharpened their weapons. Some stopped mid-swing of their blade as they prepared for battle.

  Robert nodded at many but did not stop to introduce them. Why would he? This wasn’t a social visit, now was it? And she and Lindsay could not be more out of place if they tried.

  Like Conall was doing with Lindsay, Graham made it more than clear that Christina was with him as he kept her close. Now that she was over her initial shock of walking into a medieval war party and truly realizing how dangerous a time she had traveled to, she was starting to take things in. The battle-hardened state of the men. The determination in their eyes. Even the pungent aroma of roasting meat and sweat that filled the air.

  Robert led them to a massive tent near the center of the encampment. Two men stood on either side of the entrance, one of which he murmured something to before they entered. Two more men sat inside and stood the moment they realized Robert wasn’t alone. Both were bearded and relatively tall, around Robert’s height. The darker haired one was Robert’s younger brother, Edward Bruce, Earl of Carrick. The lighter haired one who looked closer to Robert’s age was apparently Robert’s nephew and military commander, Thomas Randolph.

  “Please sit.” Robert urged everyone to sit at a large round table as a young man came in with mugs and started pouring what she assumed was ale. She didn’t miss that Robert sat her beside him. Thankfully, Graham sat on her other side, never once letting go of her hand.

  After that, conversations mostly revolved around the upcoming battle and naturally, who Lindsay and Christina really were. They might be dressed the part, but their accent was remarkably different.

  Christina was surprised how honest Robert was with his family about them and where they came from. It seemed Grant was as well based on his guarded expression as Edward looked dubiously at the women. “So yer from the future?” His eyes flickered over Lindsay then landed squarely on Christina, his interest apparent. “The twenty-first century? Truly?”

  “Aye, she is and my lass as well,” Graham responded, his brow furrowed as he casually rested an arm on the back of her chair and wrapped his fingers with hers. A gesture that caused an unexpected roll of heat in her stomach, then lower.

  “Aye,” Robert agreed, his eyes narrowed at his brother. “And ye best well remember it.”

  Edward’s eyes held Robert’s for a moment before he nodded. “Aye then, Brother. As ye wish.”

  When Christina’s eyes met Robert’s, he nodded once in reassurance. Yet there was a little something else in that look too. A bit of possessiveness if she didn’t know better. It seemed based on the way Graham cleared his throat, he had seen it too.

  Grant cut into the awkward moment as he eyed the maps strewn across the table. “So ye intend to take advantage of the soft, boggy ground in the area as well as both the Bannock and Pelstream burns to trap the Sassenach?”

  “Nay, we’ll be fighting further south and trap them here two days from now,” Thomas replied as he pointed at a different area, his steady eyes rarely going to the women but watching Grant, Conall and Graham closely. “’Tis a sound plan. Dinnae ye agree?”

  “Aye,” Grant replied, remaining vague. “As sound as any.”

  Yet Christina got the distinct impression that was not how things were supposed to go.

  Thomas’s jaw tightened, but he said no more as food was brought in. Hungrier than expected and impressed by the seasoning, she dug right in. Graham grinned and gave her some of his when she polished off her plate in record time. Meanwhile, Lindsay just shook her head and offered Christina a wry smile. She imagined if they were alone, she’d say something along the lines of being amazed Christina’s hearty eating habits didn’t catch up with her waistline.

  Edward and Thomas, however, seemed a bit taken aback that she had such a healthy appetite. Or so said the odd, not-so-impressed looks they tossed her. Eventually, she called them on it as she polished off her last bite, sat back and grinned at them. “Haven’t you ever seen a woman enjoy her food?”

  “Not with as much relish,” Edward said bluntly, a hint of humor in his eyes. “They tend to be less...ambitious.”

  “Less ambitious?” She chuckled, truly amused. “What does that even mean, darlin’?” She arched a brow. “If I were to guess, I'd say they don't eat as heartily as you men because they might be called just that. Ambitious.” She kept grinning. “Like it's some kind of crime.”

  “I, for one, like how ye eat,” Graham spoke up, his chuckle matching hers. “’Tis refreshing to see a lass truly enjoy her food.”

  “Heck yeah.” She grinned at him. “One of these days, you’re gonna have to let me cook for you.”

  “I would like that verra much.” He met her grin and winked, evidently recalling their first meeting in the kitchen back home. “Especially if ye dance whilst doing so.”

  “I think I can manage that,” she replied, her response more throaty than she planned. But flirting with him felt so natural. “Just as long as you dance along with me, handsome.”

  “’Twould be my pleasure.” He squeezed her hand, still smiling. “Verra much so.”

  She had to give him credit. He acted very well.

  This time, Robert cleared his throat and pulled her eyes his way. She almost felt guilty that she had been focused on Graham when Robert was right here.

  So close.

  So desirable.

  She frowned, confused by the overwhelming pull she suddenly felt for Robert when she was definitely feeling the same way or more so for Graham.

  She tried to convince herself that it was no big deal. That it’s perfectly normal to be attracted to two men at once. Yet something felt off, and she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Maybe it was because she was in medieval Scotland and things were just downright crazy.

  Or maybe it was something more.

  She took a swig of ale, wishing it were water. She wished even more that she could lie down and rest for a few hours. Last night she had been too wired to sleep though she desperately needed it. Back at MacLomain Castle, she had used a particular sort of energy to save Graham’s mother and her body needed rest to recharge.

  Especially now that she had eaten.

  She’d refueled and her muscles needed to heal. There had been no stretching earlier, no preparing before she saved Nicole. It had been a one, two sucker punch of magic on muscles not nearly prepared for the strain.

>   She didn’t realize she was yawning until Graham said, “King Robert, might Christina and I find shelter in yer camp for a wee bit? As ye can imagine it’s been a trying time for her with all the time-traveling.”

  “Aye...” Robert’s eyes met hers, hopeful that she might say otherwise. “If ye truly need the rest.”

  “Actually I do,” she replied. “Thank you.”

  And thank the good Lord that Graham seemed to sense it.

  Her eyes went to Lindsay and then Kenna by affiliation she supposed. Girls needed to stick together. Especially in this day and age. “Will you two be okay without me?”

  “Of course, sweetness.” Lindsay smiled and nodded. “Go get some rest.” Her eyes went from Kenna back to Christina. “I won’t let anything happen to our new friend.” Then she looked at Graham. “Promise.”

  When Graham’s eyes met Kenna’s and lingered, the little Scotswoman nodded and offered a small smile. “I’ll be just fine. Go get some rest, Graham.”

  Robert’s eyes were a little too knowing as they flickered from Kenna to Graham before he urged them to follow him.

  “Though ye have our thanks ye didnae need to escort us yerself, King Robert,” Graham said. “One of yer men could have seen to it.”

  “Nay, I dinnae think so,” Robert said softly as he ducked into a rather spacious tent not all that far from his own. It had a table, two chairs, a small fire pit and two cots. As soon as the flaps shut behind the three of them, he wrapped an arm around her lower back and pulled her close. He brought the back of her hand to his lips and murmured, “This is where it all begins, my lass.”

  Christina swallowed hard, caught in the rich blue of his eyes and the way his lips felt against her skin while at the same time overly aware of Graham watching. She had never felt such a harsh push and pull of emotions.

  Lust.

  “I...” she began, her words trailing off as Robert peppered kisses along the tender flesh of her inner wrist then up her forearm as his eyes held hers.

  “Ye what, lass?” he murmured against her skin.

  “My thoughts exactly,” Graham grumbled from somewhere nearby. “Ye what?”

  Good question because she had no idea what she was about to say. So she inhaled deeply, rallied all the strength she could muster and managed to gracefully pull away from Robert. While she most certainly enjoyed what he was doing, a part of her would have liked it to have been Graham instead.

  She closed her eyes and shook her head.

  What was the matter with her?

  It was an age old habit to fall for a guy and then bail out of necessity. What she had never, ever done was fall for two guys at once. Never mind that one was a famous king and the other a damn wizard.

  “I really need to rest,” she said a smidge breathlessly for effect as she pulled a ‘Lindsay’ and batted her lashes at Robert. “I’m sure you understand, sweetie...I mean Robert.”

  “Nay, ye meant sweetie,” he said softly as he reeled her close again, brushed his lips across hers, then let her go but not before he said, “And ‘tis good.” His eyes flickered from Graham to Christina. “I prefer being yer sweetie, lass.”

  Then his eyes landed firmly on Graham. “I know of this game ye play with Christina for yer kin and ‘tis well enough I suppose.” He gestured at the back of the tent. “I will have men posted outside so ye can leave to be with yer lass when ‘tis appropriate.” His eyes narrowed a fraction. “I expect that to be often, as I’d like to visit Christina with equal discretion.”

  A flicker of surprise lit Graham’s eyes as they went between Christina and Bruce. “Aye?”

  “Aye,” Robert confirmed, far more presumptuous than she ever imagined. “After all, Christina is promised to me and will be my wife.”

  Chapter Eight

  GRAHAM HAD NEVER experienced such a riot of emotions. Where logic told him Christina’s feelings toward Robert the Bruce were none of his concern, everything inside him rallied against it. Truth told, he had been a breath away from drawing his blade on the Bruce when he pulled her into his arms. Then he had envisioned running it across his neck when he kissed her.

  Now, this.

  “He intends to marry ye?” he muttered after Robert left. “Bloody hell!”

  “Well, I don’t intend to marry him.” She plunked down on one of the cots, clearly feeling out of sorts. Her thoughts brushed his. Fuzzy thoughts that moments before had seemed so clear. Almost as if she had been enchanted or cast beneath a spell. “I just really need some shut-eye. I’m wiped.”

  He knew she was and had felt it from the moment she polished off her food earlier. It was as if something had settled over her. Something that urged her to rest and regain her strength. That in mind, he sat down beside her, took her hand and met her eyes. “Are you all right, lass? Are you feeling well?”

  “You said you, not ye. Thanks.” A small but tired smile curled her lovely lips as her eyes stayed with his. “Honestly, I feel way off.” She rested her head on his shoulder. “Maybe even a little too wiped out all things considered.”

  Touched that she felt comfortable enough to rest against him, he cupped her hands between his to warm them. “’Tis perfectly normal. You’ve been through a lot.”

  “You have no idea,” she whispered.

  “Nay, I dinnae,” he murmured. “But I would like to, Christina. Are we not friends? Do friends not share?”

  “They do,” she said softly. “Or at least they’re supposed to.”

  “Then share,” he murmured. “Not now but mayhap after you rest.”

  “I don’t want you to leave,” she whispered. “I don’t care what Robert says. I don’t want to be alone, and everyone thinks we’re together, so it makes sense that you stay and watch over me.”

  “Aye, then.” He had no intention of leaving anyway. “As promised, I will remain by your side.”

  When she didn’t respond, he realized she had drifted off to sleep already, so he lay her down gently. Though she appeared to be sound asleep, when he pulled away, she clasped his wrist and mumbled, “Don’t go.”

  Though it probably wasn’t the best idea to stay on this cot, he would not refuse her, so he rested beside her. With so little room he had to pull her back against his front. Unfortunately, the position was bound to test him. Had he ever been so aware of a lass? Had one ever fit so perfectly beside him?

  She made no further comment, and her breathing evened. In the meantime, he made do with an uncomfortable erection and closed his eyes. While he had no intention of sleeping, he must have been more tired than he realized. Or more content. Either way, when he woke, she had turned and was propped up on her elbow eying him. He met her slow smile, not daunted in the least that she had been watching him sleep. Rather he found it...enticing somehow.

  “Hey there, handsome,” she murmured. “You’ve been sleeping for a while.”

  He glanced at the sliver of dim light filtering through the tent opening only to realize it was growing dark. “So it seems.”

  She fiddled absently with the front of his tunic as she considered him. “Thanks for stickin’ around. I thought I might wake up to find you’d snuck off.”

  “Och, nay, the thought never crossed my mind.” He grinned. “Not to mention I fell asleep.”

  “So you did.”

  “So I did.”

  As their eyes held, and heat simmered between them, he realized she had woken up in a very particular mood. The same sort he had remained in based on his arousal. When her hand left his tunic, and her fingers trailed along his jaw he knew they were heading for trouble.

  “It’s never been this strong afterward,” she whispered, fingering one of the small braids in his hair as her leg inched up his.

  “What’s that?” he managed hoarsely, knowing bloody well he should pull away. Yet he was too caught by the curious, lustful look in her eyes. By the way she licked her lower lip then rubbed her lips together, spreading the moisture.

  “After...well...”
/>   When she hesitated, he prompted her to continue. “What lass?”

  “After using what Granny called my lightn’,” she said so softly he barely caught it.

  “Lightn’?” He looked at her curiously. “What is that?”

  Unsure, Christina eyed him before she finally sighed. “Well, I’m gonna have to tell someone sooner or later, and I’d prefer you to be the first so here goes.” She pressed her lips together again as if rallying her courage then came out with it. “The lightn’ is my brand of magic, for lack of a better word. I seem to have animal-like instincts and quite often, superhuman strength.”

  “Hence you catching that arrow before it hit Ma,” he murmured.

  She nodded. “Hence that.”

  “Why did your granny call it your lightn’?”

  A small smile curved her lips. “She always thought I was lighting up when I used my magic, so she called it my lightn’ which is really lighting.” She shrugged and offered a lopsided grin. “We southerners don’t make the ‘ing’ sound too much in case you hadn’t noticed.”

  “I verra much like the way you sound,” he murmured. “’Tis easy on the ears.”

  “Is it?” Her brows shot up, and she chuckled. “Can’t say I’m told that too often.”

  “Well, it is.” He slipped his hand into hers. “Now tell me more about this gift. And why your granny thought it lit you up.”

  Interesting considering he had thought Christina was so sunny when he first met her. Almost as if she glowed. And he had thought that every moment since. His cousins hadn’t commented on it, so he assumed it was just part of the way he looked at her. Now he wondered if mayhap it was more than that.

  “There’s not a lot to say about it except that it comes in handy for a variety of things,” she said. “As to Granny thinking it lit me up, she always said it was a combination of how the sun seemed to shine down on me when I used it and then, of course, the charity runs and how happy they made me.” She grinned. “She said I lit up on both the inside and outside.”

  A chill ran through him. So her granny had seen the same thing he did when she looked at Christina. Except he saw it all the time.