“Doona wake her, lass. I can carry her.”
“She’s thirteen, Duncan. She’s pretty tall too. You really don’t have to.”
He shook his head and looked down as he tried to unbuckle his seat belt. “I ken how old she is, lass. But she doesna weigh a thing, and she looks as if she hasna slept in days. I doona mind.”
Finding the latch to free himself, Duncan opened the car door as quietly as he could before walking around to Rosie’s side of the car.
Tears sprang up in my eyes as I watched Duncan tenderly lift my daughter from the car. How many times had my own father carried me to bed as a child after I fell asleep on the couch with a book spread across my chest? And how many times had I awakened the moment he lifted me up, only to quickly feign that I was still asleep so I could enjoy the feeling of being cared for in such a way? More times than I could remember. Rosie had missed out on so much of that.
“Are ye well, lass?” Duncan whispered the question as I stepped out of the car and brushed a rogue tear from my cheek.
“I’m perfect. Let’s go.”
It was a miracle Duncan didn’t drop Rosie as the elevator lifted us into the air. His eyes doubled in size and he muttered something in Gaelic I knew had to be a curse word as he plastered his back against the back wall of the elevator in surprise.
The key card was equally impressive to him. But somehow, despite the flood of new experiences, between entering the rotating doors of the hotel and finally reaching Rosie’s bed, he managed to keep a grip on my still-snoring teenager.
When he finally placed Rosie down on the bed, his back audibly cracked as he straightened himself upright. He laughed as he faced me.
“The lass is heavier than she looks.”
“I tried to warn you. Thank you, though.”
I turned away from him as I slipped my own room key into my back pocket and held onto his in my right hand before waving him out into the hall.
“You ready for a tutorial on your room?”
He nodded, and together we walked two doors down the hallway to Duncan’s room.
“Might I try that wee wand this time, lass?”
Tickled by the fact that he’d called the key card a wand—to be fair though, it was a reasonable comparison—I smiled as I faced him and extended the piece of plastic in his direction.
“By all means. Just hover it over the handle until that little light above it turns green.”
He smiled as it lit up, beeped and opened as he turned the handle.
“Must we go back after we retrieve this witch ye speak of?”
Laughing, I pointed to the slot above the lights and gestured so he would know to place the key inside so the lights would turn on.
“So you like this time, then? You’re not completely terrified?”
As the door shut behind me and Duncan stepped close to place the keycard where I’d directed him, he surprised me by ducking his head and kissing my cheek.
I immediately warmed all over.
“Nae, I am no’ terrified. ’Tis a relief to ken why ye lied to me. I knew ye were no’ from London, and aye, what’s no’ to like? Seems time has brought a fair number of things into being that make life easier. Why would ye e’er choose to live in the past as ye do when ye doona have to?”
I shrugged and followed him as he stepped further into the room.
“My dad was in the past. He’s really the only family Rosie and I have left. And we needed a fresh start.”
He gave me an understanding nod and then shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other.
“You all right?”
He shook his head. “Nae, lass. I doona wish to embarrass ye, but I need to relieve meself rather urgently. I see no chamber pot.”
I laughed and waved him into the bathroom where he immediately looked skeptically down at the toilet.
“In there, lass?”
“Yes.” I wasn’t sure how to delicately address all of the ins and outs of a toilet to Duncan, but I knew it wouldn’t help him at all if I danced around the subject. “Okay, forgive my bluntness, but I’m just going to lay it out for you.”
He gave a soft chuckle and a nod before crossing his arms and staring down into the toilet with earnest.
As quickly as I could manage, I explained when to lift and lower the seat, what toilet paper was for, and how to get rid of everything when he was finished. When I stopped, he immediately reached for the buckle on the jeans Kamden had leant him. I hurried from the room as he called after me.
“Thank ye, lass. I believe I can manage it.”
Closing the door between us, I moved into the center of the room, unsure of what to do. Should I leave now that he was safely in his room? Should I stay in case he had any other questions? If he got his hands on the television remote, he would definitely have more than a few.
Should I stay for any other reason? For the first time since meeting him, Duncan and I were truly, really alone. What would it be like to be with him? To have his hands roam over me, to feel someone inside me for the first time in years?
My nipples hardened at the thought and I took two steps away from the bed so I would be less tempted to undress and hurl myself into it.
Just as my mind began to drift to even dirtier thoughts, I heard the sound of the toilet flushing as Duncan let out a hearty scream.
I laughed, and hurried to the bathroom door.
“I’m sorry. I should’ve warned you it would be loud when you flushed it.”
He groaned again and I thought I heard something hit the wall in the bathroom.
“Nae, lass. ’Tis no’ that. I’ve…” he hesitated. “I’ve injured meself on these damn bindings.”
Bindings? It took me a moment to think through what he could mean, but as he groaned once more, the answer came to me.
His pants. For a Scot who’d never worn anything other than a kilt or cloth breeches his entire life, Kamden’s jeans had to be restrictive for him.
I hadn’t the slightest clue what to do.
“Uh. Was it the zipper?”
His voice was tight and pained as he answered me.
“I doona have the damnedest idea what a zipper is, lass. All I ken is that me bollocks have been caught in the teeth of this wretched garment.”
Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh. I repeated the mantra in my mind as I gritted my teeth and pondered over what to do.
“Duncan. Okay. Don’t pull up anymore. You’re…you’re going to have to pull down to release it. It’s going to hurt.”
He groaned again and banged his fist against the wall. I hoped the rooms were soundproof. Otherwise, Grace, Eoghanan, and Cooper must be wondering what in the world was going on.
“Are you okay? Do you need me to come in there and help?”
“Nae, lass. I have freed meself, though I willna be putting on this damned garment again this night.”
Without another word, he flung open the door to the bathroom and stood before me stark naked from the waist down save for the hand he kept over his crotch to cover his penis. I jumped at the shock of suddenly seeing him bare.
“Oh. I’m sorry. Do you want me to turn away while you get in bed?”
He frowned at me. “Why would ye do that, lass? I doona care if ye see me arse. Ye can see behind me hand as well if ye wish it. I just dinna wish to offend ye.”
He still hurt. As he stepped toward me and turned to walk toward the bed, he hobbled awkwardly with each step.
His “arse” was incredible. It reminded me of Brad Pitt’s backside in the opening scene of Troy. Perfectly firm, muscular, and so cuppable that I wanted to reach out and squeeze it.
He moaned again as he pushed away the top pillows and lifted the covers to crawl inside.
“I am sorry, lass. Pinching one’s bollucks will put ye in a foul mood.”
I laughed and reached for the door handle to his room. “That’s totally understandable. I’ll just give you a quick rundown of the rest of the room and leave you
for the night.”
I slowly made my way around the room, stopping at each lamp and light to show him how it worked. When that was done, I reached for the television remote and moved to sit on the other side of his bed next to him.
“If you can’t sleep, I imagine you might spend some time playing with this contraption. Ready to have your mind blown?”
“Blown, lass?”
Laughing, I clicked on television. “Blown is a good thing.”
His eyes mimicked what they’d done in the elevator as the screen lit up and noise began to come through the speakers.
“What in the name of Brighid is this, lass?”
“It’s a television. You can watch recorded stories or news.”
Duncan frowned and reached up to cover his ears. “I doona care for it. Might ye turn it off?”
Surprised, I did as he asked. “Of course. You sleepy?”
He shook his head and reached for my hand. “Nae. No’ at all. Do ye think Rosie shall wake again in the night?”
My chest tightened and fluttered again as hope that he might ask me to stay began to rise.
“I doubt it. She’s a sound sleeper, and like you said earlier, she looked as if she needed it. Why?”
Duncan shrugged shyly as he squeezed my hand. “I doona wish to offend ye, lass. I doona ken if I should ask what I wish to.”
“Please do ask it. I promise you I’m not easily offended.”
“Stay with me, lass. Let me hold ye. Kiss ye. Learn more about ye. We needn’t do anything ye doona wish to.”
I kicked off my shoes and leaned down to kiss him.
“I want to do everything, Duncan. Opportunities like this—privacy, a good bed, a hot shower, someone like you to spend time with—I want to take advantage of it. I’m not sure you’re up for all of it though.”
I cast a quick glance down to where his injured bits were underneath the covers.
He laughed and pulled me toward him.
“I’ve a feeling a few more kisses from ye shall heal me. At the verra least, let us find out, aye?”
Chapter 19
Duncan
Could one die of pleasure? His night with Madeline made him wonder. Even his injured privates hadn’t been enough to deter how desperately he wanted her. It was a need unlike anything he’d ever experienced. Over and over they came together during the night, each time more intimate, more loving than the time before.
It wasn’t only the meeting of their bodies. The conversation and their shared laughter throughout the night had filled up some lonely well inside of him he didn’t even know existed. He could say things to her he’d never told anyone before, and he couldn’t help but feel that she was just as comfortable around him.
It was unlike him to move so quickly—to take so much—to move so boldly with anyone. But Madeline wasn’t like anyone else. The lass knew her own mind. If she wanted him, he wasn’t going to try to convince her otherwise.
Madeline slept soundly against his chest as morning broke, but sleep couldn’t seem to catch him as his mind raced.
He now knew one thing for sure.
He had no plans to leave McMillan territory. He would see every stone structure for miles set right if he needed to. His home was no longer the place he’d left behind. His home was wherever this strange, bonny lass existed.
He couldn’t tell her this. Not yet. Not so soon.
Not while they all still had the matter of Osla’s ghost to attend to.
But once all was settled, he would. And to hear her return his feelings would be the grandest day of his life.
She felt as he did, he knew.
Not one part of him doubted it.
Chapter 20
Madeline
Duncan had to wake me at sunrise. After being sweetly pulled from sleep by kisses trailed down my neck, I panicked the second I took in the surroundings of the hotel room as my sex-doused brain remembered Rosie in the hotel room two doors down.
Dressing more quickly than I thought possible, I yanked on my pants, reached for my shirt which now lay crumpled up on the floor, bent to give Duncan a quick kiss on the cheek, and fled his room in my rush to try to save face with my daughter.
I relaxed the moment I pushed open the door, and the sound of her soft snoring reached my ears.
The panic returned, however, as I stepped further into the room and the sound of her snore turned into soft laughter.
As I flipped on one of the bedside lamps, Rosie slowly sat up in the bed.
“I knew if I pretended I was still asleep, you’d think you’d gotten away with it.”
My cheeks flooded with heat as I tried to think of something that could explain away the situation.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I just got up to see if there was any coffee downstairs in the lobby. I’ve been here all night.”
Rosie snorted and rolled her eyes at me. “Mom, I woke up at one in the morning and watched television for three hours. You weren’t here at all last night. It’s fine. Just don’t say anything else about it. I promise I’ll throw up if you do.”
She pretended to gag then walked to the bathroom without another word. I heard the shower turn on and, humiliated, I shrunk beneath the covers.
No teenager needed to be aware of their mother spending the night with anyone. She played it cool, but she had to be mortified.
I was officially the worst mom ever.
I said nothing to Duncan on the long car ride to Morna’s later that morning. I was now so cognizant of Rosie’s presence that I worried about anything either of us might say making her uncomfortable.
I still didn’t know where things would lead with Duncan, and until I did, I wanted Rosie’s investment in our relationship to be as limited as possible. While my night with Duncan had been amazing, we’d spoken little about the future, and I couldn’t help but feel like that was likely because he wasn’t planning one.
Why would he be? We barely knew one another, and McMillan territory was not his home. He had responsibilities that would be difficult to manage from this distance. His elderly mother needed him. And whether Duncan wished to admit it or not, I was pretty certain he was the owner of a cat that would surely be missing his care.
Not only that, but each day I watched Duncan and Cooper’s progress on the stone work with interest, and I knew they had little left before the job was done. When the work was finished, he would leave, and any interest he believed he had in me would vanish with his desire to return home.
And that, I supposed, was as it should be. Our short time together was something we’d both needed. I needed to be reminded that I could truly feel something other than numbness and anger at my own life, and Duncan needed to learn that those things that had evaded him in life so far—companionship, a wife, and a family—could be his if he ever decided he truly wished it, even if he didn’t find those things with me.
I wasn’t a child. I could understand that some things are only meant to come into our lives for a season. Perhaps, Duncan was only meant to be just that, a brief respite from my daily routine to remind me that some parts of me hadn’t been buried with my husband.
While it wasn’t what I wanted, I could make peace with that.
I would have to if my suspicions about him were right.
I sighed as I made the last turn onto the gravel road leading to Morna’s inn, and Duncan reached over to squeeze my hand that rested on the gear shift in response. The gesture was an acknowledgment of the realization I suspected we both knew.
Last night was amazing, but it was likely all we were ever going to get.
Chapter 21
Cooper
Cooper’s body all but vibrated with excitement as Jerry pulled the car out of park and began to drive away from the inn. With Morna riding in the passenger seat and his mother allowing him to ride with Morna and Jerry back to the castle, all was right in Cooper’s world once again. He loved it when Morna and Jerry traveled into the past—even if they were
only doing so to fix his and Rosie’s mistake.
Even Rosie had been allowed to ride with them. All of his favorite people were in one place for the first time in ages.
In all honesty, he couldn’t even bring himself to feel bad for what he and Rosie had done. While he regretted that Osla’s ghost had frightened everyone—himself included—the fact that their actions had forced them to involve Morna meant that the woman’s soul might finally find some rest after the spell was cast.
How could anyone possibly feel bad about that?
“Morna?”
Cooper smiled at her as she turned in her seat to look at him.
“Aye, lad?”
“Why don’t you and Jerry just move to the past with us? I miss you every day that I don’t get to see you. Things would just be so much better if you were there.”
Morna closed her eyes as she reached back to squeeze his knee. When she opened them, Cooper thought he could see tears in her eyes.
“Ach, lad. Ye canna ken how much it means to me that ye love us so, but me place isna where yers is. It hasna been for a verra long time. There is still much work I must do here.”
Rosie spoke up beside him. “What exactly is your job, Morna?”
“’Tis no’ a job, truly. ’Tis more me passion. I am quite fond of making love matches across time.”
Cooper smiled as Rosie glanced over at him with dubious eyes.
“Why across time?”
Morna shrugged. “Some of us are born out of time, lass, and ’tis me gift to fix that.”
Cooper watched as Rosie contemplated.
“So did you have something to do with the painting? Are you trying to set up Duncan and my mom?”
Morna hesitated for a brief moment before replying. “I’ll answer ye honestly, though I fear ye may think less of me for it. I did no’ bind Osla’s soul to that painting. ’Tis much darker magic than I’ve e’er had a mind to do. While I doona suppose any of us shall e’er ken for certain, I believe Osla bound herself to the painting when she ken someone within the castle meant her harm, not understanding what the curse would mean for herself after her death.
The Curse of McMillan Castle - A Novella (A Scottish Time Travel Romance): Book 12.5 Page 8
