“Oh, weel, you may hae the right of it, of course.” Rosalyn looked down at the water, a mischievous smile forming on her lips. “But the Faeries, you ken? They believe, and it’s them we’re asking for help. So you see? Though they’ve their own way of doing things, we’d be best off to keep them happy.” She shrugged.
Cate stepped to the edge of the water and cleared her throat. “Faeries? It’s me, Caitlyn Coryell.”
She really had never felt quite so foolish in her entire life, but Rosalyn sat there clutching her hands together, smiling and nodding encouragement.
“I want to thank you, all of you, for getting me here safely. And if you don’t mind, could you send me home again just as safely? As soon as I’m married and we deal with saving Connor’s sister so that she can . . . ” What was it Rosalyn had said? “Find the fate of her own heart.” She turned to Rosalyn. “Is that it?”
“If you’re determined you’ll no include the true love, I guess it’ll hae to do.” The woman sighed deeply before continuing. “All that’s left is for you tie the strip to the tree.”
The smile that had graced Rosalyn’s face was gone, replaced with a sad little tightening around her eyes that made Cate feel unaccountably guilty.
Cate looped the strip around a low branch, feeling the burden of responsibility for the other woman’s sorrow. “Oh, all right,” she said, almost to herself. Turning back to the water, she called loudly, “Faeries? If we could just toss my finding true love into the mix, I’d be really grateful. Thank you very much.”
She finished tying the cloth to the limb, shaking her head at her own behavior. Honestly. This had to be the most ridiculous thing she’d ever done. If she didn’t count climbing into that green sphere last night, that is. But when she turned back to Rosalyn, she was surprised to find the woman looking at her with tears in her eyes.
“What? Did I do something wrong?”
Rosalyn smiled and shrugged her shoulders. “No. You did everything perfectly. It’s just so happy I am.” A conspiratorial smile replaced the tears. “You’ve pleased the Faeries and that pleases me. They’re my family, you see.” She nodded toward the water.
When Cate looked confused, Rosalyn put an arm around her shoulders and continued, “Let’s get settled by the fire, and I’ll tell you the Legend of the Faerie Glen and all about my family here.”
* * *
It was done.
Rosalyn hid her excitement as she glanced at the young woman walking next to her. She was a wee thing, this Cate, but the Faerie magic had chosen her, so there was no doubt. She must be the one. She’d already demonstrated a good heart, easily agreeing to do as Rosalyn needed her to do, even though it was apparent she’d not wanted to.
When Connor had first awakened, Rosalyn had some brief concern as he’d taken one look at the woman lying in his arms and moved away from her quickly, as if he couldn’t bear her touch. He’d been more than agreeable to go with Duncan, leaving it to her to deal with the lass.
Which had worked right into Rosalyn’s plans.
Everything was going as she’d wanted. She hoped it would continue that way. Not that she really worried about the mortals. The Faerie magic was much stronger than any of them, so she no longer needed to worry about Mairi’s fate.
No, it was the Fae themselves that concerned her. Oh, they’d grant their power, and fulfill the wishes and needs expressed in the ritual at the Clootie Well, so long as you met their conditions and passed their tests. It was just that they were a perverse race, always insisting on giving you what they thought you needed in the way they thought you needed it.
She smiled at Cate as they sat. There was something special about this young woman, she could feel it.
“Long, long ago on a beautiful spring day,” she began her story, pushing aside all concern about the Fae. It would do no good to fret on it. They were all committed now.
It was done.
* * *
Rosalyn had prepared a kettle of oatmeal by the time the two men returned. The four of them sat around the fire quietly, as if no one knew exactly what to say.
Cate, lost in her own thoughts mulling over the fantastic fairy tale Rosalyn had told her, had barely done more than nod when she’d been “formally” introduced to the two men. She wanted to automatically dismiss the whole thing as ancient superstition, but, in all fairness, she was here, in the middle of this forest, and she had to have gotten here somehow.
Sitting here now, the three of them sneaking quick glances at her, she realized she had no idea what their plan to save Connor’s sister required of her. Other than getting married, of course.
Well, no time like the present.
“So. Could one of you tell me exactly what it is you’d like me to do while I’m here?”
To her surprise, both men jumped when she spoke. Duncan almost dropped his bowl, and had to juggle a bit to keep it from spilling.
“Dinna you tell her, Aunt? I’d thought you wanted time with her to talk.” Connor turned that piercing blue gaze on his aunt, arching his eyebrow.
“Weel, not exactly, nephew.” Rosalyn fluttered her hands in an agitated manner. “We had to get her settled and all once she finally waked. Odds and ends to put in order, you ken? Besides”—she shrugged—“I thought it might be better for you to give her all the details.”
A palpable tension filled the air.
Connor rose, dumped his drink into the fire and, setting the cup down, began to pace. Finally he stopped and looked directly at Cate. “My aunt is trying to save me embarrassment. But you’ll hae need to hear it all if you’re to help us.”
He certainly had her attention now. In truth, he’d had it when he’d stood up. The man was tall. He was well over six feet. His brown hair hung in waves to his shoulders and curled a bit toward his face. He wore a tiny braid on one side that was currently tucked behind his ear. And he moved with a fluid masculine grace, all power and confidence.
His aunt wanted to save him embarrassment? Cate wondered just what it might take to embarrass a man like this.
“Seven years ago, I returned home to find my betrothed marrying another man.” Connor exchanged a quick look with his aunt. “I was verra angry, and I may hae been a bit rash at the time.” Duncan snorted and Connor stopped to glare at him. “Weel, what’s done is done.” He shrugged, and returned to pacing. “I went to the chapel—”
“Stomped up, right in the middle of the ceremony, yelling at the top of his lungs is more like it,” Rosalyn interrupted.
“Verra weel. I stomped up. Then I made an oath before God—”
“And everyone else in the entire village.” Duncan interrupted this time.
“And everyone else,” Connor irritably acknowledged before continuing, “that as women were all deceitful and untrustworthy, I would marry none whose feet trod the land that day.”
“A verra dramatic young man.” Rosalyn and Duncan nodded to one another.
“Enough.” Connor was clearly uncomfortable with their additions to his story. “Which brings us to now. My uncle is set to force wee Mairi to wed the MacPherson. The old MacPherson. Mairi disna want to. I can only hae say over her if I stay here and she lives under my roof and protection. But I’m in the king’s service, to be sent where and when he pleases. He’s agreed to release me only if I marry. So, you can see the problem and why yer needed.” He leaned against a large tree and poked at the ground with the toe of his boot, while the others nodded in agreement.
“Actually, no, I still don’t see why you needed me.” Cate was baffled. “You’re an attractive man.”
Connor’s mouth dropped open, while Rosalyn smiled and Duncan began to cough, as if to hide a laugh.
“Seriously. I’m sure there are plenty of women around here who would be more than happy to marry you. I don’t understand why you needed to hunt through time for me.”
“I made a vow.” He spoke to her slowly, as if she were dull-witted. “My honor demands that I dinna break that vow. Ther
e is no woman in this land I can marry.” Connor shrugged. “Not that I’d want to anyway. I’d no hae any of them.”
“So, you’re going to . . . what? Tell everyone that you swept me through time to come marry you?”
“No.” Three voices rang through the glen simultaneously.
“Good Christ, no, woman. You’ll no speak of that to anyone.” Connor strode over to where she sat and knelt down beside her, taking her upper arm in his hand.
His touch sent shivers through her whole body, vividly bringing back the memory of the last time he’d touched her, in the sphere of green light.
“You ken that? No one must know about any of this.” He swept his arm around to encompass the area where they sat.
“Let her be, Connor, you’re frightening her. She’s quivering,” Rosalyn reprimanded.
He let go of her arm quickly, as if he’d been burned, and sat back on his haunches, but remained very close, a closed expression on his face as his aunt continued.
“There are those who dinna . . . ”—Rosalyn paused to carefully consider her words—“ . . . appreciate my gifts. We would no want to upset them unnecessarily.”
Cate thought about that for a minute. If this were in fact thirteenth-century Scotland, witchcraft would be looked on rather harshly. That could be very bad for all of them.
“We’ll tell them you’ve been sent as a gift from Outremer.” Connor picked up where his aunt left off. “The daughter of a nobleman whose life I saved in battle during the last Crusade. Of course, I hae no choice but to marry you.” He shrugged his shoulders. “It’s the only honorable thing to do.”
He looked quite proud of himself.
“I can see the male ego hasn’t changed in the last seven hundred years,” Cate murmured, as Rosalyn chuckled softly. “So, you vowed to marry no woman here. Why didn’t you just bring a wife home with you when you returned to Scotland?”
Connor’s expression hardened. “Those here can assume I renounced the women of this land if they choose. When I vowed no woman, I meant no woman. There’s none anywhere I’d wed. By using the magic, I may wed, but I have no wife. I’ve no desire to be shackled to any such devious creature.”
“And once we’re married, how do you explain it when I’m suddenly not here anymore?”
“We’ll tell everyone that we’ve received word of yer mother’s ill health and I’ve sent you home to be with her for a time.” Connor’s expression changed back to a satisfied little smirk. “A gift you may be, but even I’m no so hard a man I’d keep you from attending yer poor mother’s bedside.”
“So, I’m to be a gift.” Cate emphasized the word with distaste and sighed deeply. “From the Holy Land. Fine. But understand, all of you, I don’t lie well.” Is that skepticism in Connor’s eyes? “I’m serious. I’ll have to stay as close to the truth as possible, or everyone will know something’s wrong. And how am I supposed to convince them I’m Arabic? I don’t speak the language, I don’t know the customs, and I certainly don’t look the part.”
“Many a good Christian knight has remained in the Holy Land after the Crusades, raising a family and making a life for himself. I fought side by side with men such as those. You could easily be the daughter of one such as that. Besides, there’s none here who’ll know. And it’ll go far to explain yer verra strange speech and manner.” Connor raised an eyebrow in that superior expression she was starting to associate with him. “And yer even stranger clothing.” All three of them nodded in agreement.
For the first time, Cate glanced down. She was still wearing her silk pajamas. Her face reddened as the heat spread down her neck. At least she’d thought to put the jacket on.
“We can say her ship hit storms and her things were lost at sea. That will explain why she has nothing else with her.” The men nodded as Rosalyn picked up the story.
“Wait a second. I did have something with me. Where’s my dress?” Cate suddenly remembered grabbing her grandmother’s wedding gown at the last minute.
“Yer dress?” Rosalyn had begun cleaning her cooking utensils. “Oh, yer lacy thing? I’ve packed that in my bags. It’ll be safe there until we reach Dun Ard.”
“That doesn’t sound like where you told me your home was last night.” Cate looked toward Connor, who had picked up several bags and was heading away from their circle.
“Because it’s no my home,” he responded gruffly over his shoulder as he stalked away.
“Dun Ard is my brother, Artair’s home. He’s the laird now.” Rosalyn briefly frowned at Duncan, who made a rude noise at her statement. “It’s where Mairi and I live, and where we’ll need to take you to announce that Connor’s to be married. You’ll stay there until the wedding.” She stopped gathering items long enough to pat Cate’s arm reassuringly. “Connor must hae mentioned Sithean Fardach, aye?” At Cate’s agreeing nod, she continued. “That’s where Connor stays when he’s here. It’s our ancestral home, where he grew up. The old castle is only a few miles from the new.”
“Why aren’t we staying at Connor’s home? It would seem the less I’m around other people, the better off we’d be.”
“An unmarried lass staying in the home of the man she’s to wed would set tongues wagging. Besides, Artair isna going to be well pleased at Connor’s marriage. We need him to believe you to be the real thing. So, Dun Ard it is, I’m afraid.”
Cate rose to help Rosalyn gather the rest of the cooking items and put out the fire.
“Where have the men gone now?” she asked, looking around.
“It’s time we’re on our way. They’ve gone to get the horses. Late as it is, we’ll likely be an additional night on the road.” Rosalyn stopped abruptly when she glanced at Cate.
“Horses?” Cate squeaked, going deathly pale.
Oh, God, please not horses.
CHAPTER 4
The woman is insane.
Standing there in the clearing dressed in her strange trewes, with her hands on her hips and her green eyes flashing, she looked to Connor like one of the Fae Folk in whose glen she stood. Perhaps he was insane as well.
How did she think to get anywhere if she wouldn’t get on the horse? Surely she didn’t expect a fancy cart, although she was obviously the daughter of great wealth; he’d seen the strange, fine furnishings in her bedchamber.
The memory of being in this woman’s bedchamber flowed through him like a flooding river. When he’d first seen her, standing by the bed with her hair curling around her bare shoulders, he’d momentarily forgotten why he was even there. She made him think of fire and wild things. She’d raised her arms, exposing flashes of bare stomach, and, well, it wouldn’t do at all to think on this now.
He shifted uncomfortably on his horse.
“No.” Cate firmly stood her ground. “No, no, no. I don’t . . . there is no way. I can’t ride on that horse by myself.” She looked down for a moment, and when she lifted her head, her emerald eyes blazed. “I’m afraid of them, okay? There it is. I fell off one when I was little and I’ve never ridden since. I’m sorry, but I just can’t.” Her arms dropped limply to her sides.
The acknowledgment caught him off guard, bringing with it an unexpected sympathy for her. A fearful woman was something he could deal with, no different from a skittish horse. He needed only to move slowly, speak softly and take charge. She was, after all, his responsibility. He’d sworn to protect her from all harm.
Cate backed away as he edged his mount closer to her. Suddenly, in a single movement, he turned his horse, leaned down and swept her onto the saddle in front of him. She squirmed, breathing rapidly and clutching at his arms.
He pressed his mouth close her ear. “Dinna fash yerself, lassie.” He spoke softly, as he might to a frightened animal. “Dinna I tell you I’d no let anything harm you? You’ll ride here with me. I’ll no let you fall. You can trust me.”
Connor held her tightly as her breathing slowed, and she gradually leaned back against him. There was still tension in her body, but at leas
t he didn’t worry now that she’d wiggle herself off the horse.
The four of them rode in silence for quite some time. The feel of Cate’s hair against his chin and her back stiff against his chest served as a constant distraction. He reminded himself that he held her here only to fulfill his duty. Was it only duty that caused you to kiss the lass, his conscience prickled? And so soon after swearing to see to her protection? It was no more than a momentary weakness brought on by the Fae magic, never to be repeated, he assured himself.
He straightened, pulling himself back from her a bit. She adjusted in his grip, her head once again resting on his chest, the scent of her filling his nostrils.
She smelled of exotic fruits like those he’d tasted while on crusade in Outremer. He glanced down. Her hair was tied back with what appeared to be a strip of cloth from his own plaid. It was as if it marked her as belonging to him somehow.
Connor shook his head, and tried to concentrate on the task at hand. They had a long way to go before nightfall.
* * *
Cate had never been so grateful in her entire life for the opportunity to just stand on her own two feet. Every muscle in her body ached—whether from bouncing on that giant horse all day or from trying to maintain her distance within Connor’s embrace, she wasn’t sure.
The man certainly had a presence. One that, if she wasn’t careful, could easily lull her into a sense of security and belonging that didn’t exist.
She helped Rosalyn as much as possible in setting up their campsite for the night. Now she was simply watching as rabbits the men had brought back earlier roasted over the fire. Hungry as she was, even that smelled delicious. Rabbit was certainly not something that had ever been on her menu back home, but it was likely just one of the many differences she should expect to encounter in this place.
Thirty Nights With a Highland Husband Page 4
