As Mackenzie lay there, looking pleasantly mussed and sated, he stood up and threw on his shirt and fixed his plaid.
With a cocky grin he said, "I'll be back soon to finish that." He walked to the door and paused. He looked pensive.
"You're going to be late," Mackenzie reminded him sitting up and adjusting her shift, pulling the blankets up.
"I am. But 'twas worth it. I meant what I said earlier. I do care for ye sweeting. I'd much appreciate your word that ye'll 205
no' run from me again." He waited for her response, unsure of what to expect.
"Oh," Mackenzie looked down at her hands as they fidgeted with the blankets. "Umm...I have no reason to run anymore." She wouldn't meet his gaze, but even without the benefit of reading her eyes, he could tell what this admission cost her. He felt awful about leaving her right now. Honestly he didn't want to leave her. He strode back to the bed and kissed her deeply, drinking from her lips until she was gasping. He felt a little smug about the affect he had on her.
That was one thing he'd never doubted about her; her reaction to him had always been genuine.
He left her to see what was so urgent in the yard, but as he walked, he thought about the reaction women had always had to him. He had never really given much thought to it, but now he wondered how many women had only been with him because he was the laird and an earl, and how many had actually cared for him. It was hard to be objective and introspective at the same time. He felt that Mackenzie cared for him. She had given him her innocence. His brow furrowed, actually he had taken it. Connor still felt guilty about that.
Although she had been willing, he knew he had seduced her.
He wished that there was a way to right that. Before he reached the training yard, a thought occurred to him; maybe he could right that wrong after all...
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Chapter Nineteen
Mackenzie watched as Connor left and she idly wondered why his men needed him at, she looked at her watch, five am. Ugh. That seemed to be the average wakeup time around here, though. Connor had said he'd be back soon, but his concept of time differed slightly from Mackenzie's. Mackenzie chuckled at the words "concept of time." Her whole concept of time was completely changed. She would never look at the science fiction novels Jenna loved with disdain again.
Maybe she'd explore the castle some more today. She picked up her clothes and walked to her room. Since Bronwyn usually didn't come with her breakfast tray until seven, Mackenzie had to make do with dressing herself. She wandered toward her trunk of gowns and pulled out a deep blue gown...she thought since the bodice laced up the front, she could manage. Besides, it was the exact color of Connor's eyes. After a couple failed attempts at lacing up her stays, she flung them on the bed, and dug out her bra. She pulled a fresh shift on and then the petticoats and gown. She twisted and turned in the tall oval mirror and thought that the bra gave her a nice natural look, rather than the seemingly in fashion boobs-smooshed-up-to-her-chin-about-to-fall-out look. Vainly, she swiped on some of her favorite "Very Berry"
lip gloss and tucked her purse back into the chair where she seemed to keep forgetting it was.
Before she left, she grabbed her camera and stuffed it in her skirts so no one would see it. She wanted to take as 207
many pictures as possible for when she went back to her own time. If she made it back to her own time. That thought wasn't as entirely sad as it previously had been. For some reason, the idea of staying here was now voluntary rather than forced. Perhaps because of Connor's recent declaration?
She felt kind of like a spy, sneaking pictures of the castle before the War. After WWI, the bombed parts had been rebuilt in a more gaudy style, with lots of gilded pieces, if she remembered correctly. While the castle of her time was furnished with lots of antiques, she didn't think any of them were original to the castle. They'd been touted as being from the castle's heyday. Supposedly the only pieces that had been kept and passed down from laird to laird was Connor's bedroom furniture; his room was now dubbed the "Laird's Suite." Mackenzie hadn't seen it though; she and Jenna had more modest rooms in the new wing.
Mackenzie took the stairs that led out of the tower, but instead of turning towards the Hall, she turned the opposite direction. She didn't know where she was headed, but she was exploring after all, so she meandered slowly around the first floor snapping pictures when no one was looking. She wished she'd grabbed a brochure or something with a map of the castle, but she'd never picked one up on the tour. She did remember vague bits from her unfinished tour, but nothing was where she thought it would be. Thinking logically, she started on the bottom floor, and tried every door she came across. Most were locked. She ended up in what she assumed was the laird's private office, or solar in this time. She walked to the window and looked out at the yard. Mackenzie folded 208
her arms over her chest against the chill coming from the window. The nice weather she'd had on her first day was apparently out of the ordinary for the Highlands, and it had progressively cooled down each day.
She saw his men in the yard, but when her eyes scanned for Connor, he was nowhere to be found. Where was he, if it was so urgent, that he wasn't among his men? She looked for Robbie and Dougal, two of the only men she knew by name.
They weren't there either. Her curiosity piqued, Mackenzie walked purposefully out to the main Hall, this time, though, she was looking for Connor.
When she got to the Hall, she realized that something was different. Usually there was a lot of hustle and bustle, or at the very least, people. No one was there. So she went through to the next room, and found the private dining room she and Connor had shared the night before. Also empty.
Something was going down. This was weird. Mackenzie didn't like this.
Just then, a man came striding in through the doors with such a huge plate of food that Mackenzie could only describe it as a platter. He looked so much like Connor that at first she thought he was Connor. They shared the same height, build, hair, even the same deep blue sapphire-colored eyes. When the man saw Mackenzie staring at him, his eyes widened slightly, in surprise, she guessed.
"My Lady, what are ye doin' down here?" His brogue was a little thicker and more pronounced than Connor's.
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"Umm..." she stalled. It was disconcerting to look into the same blue eyes that she'd become so familiar with. "I'm looking for Connor."
"Perhaps I can be of service?"
"Perhaps you can tell me your name?" she replied a little tartly.
The man chuckled at her spirit. "Ah, apologies, my Lady, I have been away and we've no' been properly introduced. I am Liam, Connor's younger and better looking brother." His genuine smile and good humor won over Mackenzie much quicker than she'd have expected. "I regret to inform ye that he is with someone at present, mayhap I could help? What is it ye'd be wantin' to talk to me brother about?"
Liam's face was slightly softer than his brother's, but other than that, they really did look alike. Mackenzie realized that she was staring again.
"Oh, I was just wondering if I might go for a ride this morning. I thought it would be best to speak with him about it first."
Liam was looking at her as if he were trying to figure out whether she was friend or foe. Whatever he saw, he must have decided he liked, because his expression went from pensive to cocky.
"I doona see why that should pose a problem. And pray tell, my lady, what is your name?"
"Mackenzie." She knew better by now; she should have said her full name. Liam's eyes lost all warmth.
"You are Mackenzie?" He looked like he wanted to draw his sword.
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"Yes. Oh wait, no, not the way you mean," she bit her lip and rephrased, "I am a Stewart. My first name is Mackenzie."
She watched Liam thaw slightly.
"Your Christian name is Mackenzie?" He drew it out slowly as if he was trying to reconcile the opposing thoughts of Mackenzie as both his
enemy and his ally.
She was annoyed at that, and didn't bother to hide the huffy remark, "Yes, you got a problem with that?"
Liam's eyebrows shot sky high. He noticed her haughty tone, no doubt.
"I'm sorry," Mackenzie sighed. "I've been a little on edge.
Perhaps it's because I haven't eaten yet." It was a sorry excuse, but it seemed to work. Besides, she was hungry.
"Then by all means, let us get ye some food. I have cold mutton and potatoes on my plate." Mackenzie must have made a face, because Liam amended, "Or we could try the kitchen. I ken that there is some cheese and fresh bread in the cupboard. Shall we?" Liam offered her his arm. He gave off the same kind of heat that his brother did; Mackenzie could feel it through her clothing. It wasn't altogether unpleasant on this chilly morning.
In the kitchen, Liam handed her a hunk of warm brown bread and kept rummaging until he found some cheese and some fresh apples. Mackenzie took them gratefully. She must've burned more calories last night than sleeping alone, she blushed at the thought. Liam looked questioningly at her, but said nothing, and Mackenzie was instantly grateful for that as well.
"So how did ye come to stay here?"
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Mackenzie's eyes flew to Liam's and she said, "You mean Connor hasn't told you?"
"Nay, my Lady, I ken that ye have been sharing the Laird and Lady's chambers, but that is all. I've only arrived home this morning."
"You've heard we share what?" Mackenzie's eyes popped open wide and heat flooded her face. Liam looked amused by her flustered appearance.
"That ye've shared the..."
"I heard what you said," Mackenzie interrupted Liam. "I just hadn't realized that's what they were called. The rooms I mean." She was trying to salvage her faux pas.
"Ye thought I'd heard ye share a bed with my brother." He was teasing her again, but he was right.
Mackenzie actually choked on her bread at that. Between coughing fits, and Liam pounding her on the back, she tried to explain, but then decided that she might as well admit it.
So once her voice was working, she lifted her chin and rasped out, "And if I am?"
Liam gave her a friendly smile and simply shrugged, saying, "Connor's a grown man. He can do as he pleases."
Liam looked Mackenzie up and down, making her feel as if she were naked. "I'd seduce ye meself if I dinna ken his claim on ye."
Mackenzie's cheeks were stained with the faint pink of the blush she tried in vain to fight back. But she batted her eyes coyly and smiled, playing along. "Perhaps I've picked the wrong brother."
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Liam laughed long and hard at that. It was a pleasant sound; rich and deep. Mackenzie had yet to hear Connor really laugh like that; unguarded and carefree. Liam was much more easygoing than his older brother.
"Aye lass, ye did. Ye should have met me first. I'd show ye a proper Highland welcome." He waggled his eyebrows at her.
Before Mackenzie could ask what he meant, or if she even wanted to know what he meant by that, Connor walked into the kitchen. While she jumped, looking slightly guilty, he surprised her by laughing.
"I see ye've met my brother Liam. Is he trying to convince ye that he'd be the better brother?" Connor put his arm around Liam's shoulders and squeezed.
"Yes, he..."
Connor interrupted, "He asked the first girl I ever kissed if she would marry him the second I introduced them. He fancies himself a charmer."
Liam chuckled and said, "I am charming, my brother. But I'd rather not waste me charms on the likes of you; 'tis only for the lassies."
Connor fondly punched Liam in the shoulder, "Whoever told ye ye were charming, well, they lied."
Mackenzie had to make sure to keep her mouth closed in fear her jaw would drop; she'd never seen Connor like this.
She liked it. He seemed...happy.
"Liam, what do ye think of my betrothed?"
"I like her Connor, but careful she doesn't come to her senses and fall for me charms." He winked at her. They reminded Mackenzie of little kids who were up to no good.
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The mischievous smiles they both wore were so different from what she'd come to expect around the keep.
Mackenzie had to laugh at the exchange, but it died in her throat. Wait—- Betrothed? Connor held her eyes as he said it.
Mackenzie's jaw dropped. Liam must have sensed the change in the atmosphere because he tactfully excused himself and left the two of them alone.
"We're getting married?" She was thoroughly confused.
"Aye, sweeting. I've been speaking with the bishop and he has agreed to marry us on the morn." His voice was tender.
Even through her shock, his assumption that Mackenzie would just acquiesce grated on her nerves. "Did you ever think to ask me if I'd even want to marry you?"
His brows drew down over his eyes. "Ye mean that ye doona want to marry me? But ye gave me your innocence."
As if that alone was explanation enough.
"I'd like to be asked, to have a choice in the matter. I mean, in my time, people fall in love, and then the man proposes. Women aren't just told 'You're getting married tomorrow' whether they are virgins or not."
He smiled at her rant; he understood that she wanted the freedom to say no. It was important to her. "Might I try once more? Mackenzie of the clan Stewart, will ye give me your hand in marriage and agree to marry me on the morrow?"
Her eyes widened, but she persisted. "We can't get married, Connor. I mean, I'm leaving in a couple of weeks."
Mackenzie's voice rose slightly. His eyes tightened.
Connor switched tactics: logic. "I've heard talk that the Campbell wants to steal back his missing bride. If we are 214
married, then he'll no' be able to legally take ye. It doesn't mean he won't try yet, but 'twill make it harder."
"Oh," Mackenzie felt disappointment flood her body. But what did she expect Connor to do? Drop to one knee declaring his love? "Well, I guess that makes sense, in a sensible sort of way." Mackenzie tried not to pout.
"Good it's settled."
"Just one more thing..." Her brows were knit in concentration.
"Aye?"
"What'll I wear?"
Connor bit back a smile as they walked out of the kitchen.
Women. He wanted to roll his eyes. He held his arm out for her as they left the Hall. He led her towards the outer doors, thinking they might take a walk. She cared for him, of that he was certain. Once the fog of doubt had cleared, it was obvious. But he also knew that she wasn't in love with him, yet. This was just the beginning, however and he hoped that she would learn to love him. They matched well in bed, and most marriages were based on less, far less. If she felt even a fraction of what he felt for her, when the time came, mayhap Mackenzie wouldn't want to leave.
When his man Duncan had pulled him from his chambers early this morning he'd only been told he was needed, he hadn't known why. But he'd guessed. He'd heard rumors that the Campbell was plotting a counter-attack to reclaim his bride. Being that he had yet to even set eyes on Mackenzie, Connor knew that it would be a personal assault against him.
Mackenzie had always been right about one thing; she was 215
just the excuse to start the battle. She always had been.
From what he'd gleaned from his man on the Campbell's lands, he needed a sacrifice, a virgin. The Campbell planned to use his dark magic to ensure his victory in clearing the MacRae from lands he felt were rightfully his now.
Highland law was imprecise and unclear, usually enforced by chieftain and sword. The clan chiefs dealt out what they considered justice; some were fair, some were not, and some laws were vague, varying from clan to clan. The king was reluctant to meddle in the affairs of the Highlands, where land was scarce and men were territorial. The chiefs dressed up and went to court once a year as required (to model their
"good behavior" for all to see), but since the Scottish King James VI had merged Scotland and England, there had
been nothing but trouble for the people of the Highlands. King George III, amongst rumors that he had bouts of madness, didn't actively do anything. He preferred to live in his precious Hanover rather than deal with the British politics. So Connor and his fellow chiefs had been stripped of most of their judicial powers, while confiscated lands were "redistributed."
The redistribution of certain MacRae lands into Campbell hands had marked the start of the feud.
The Stewarts had given the MacRaes some lands as a marriage tocher several generations back. Connor's ancestor had mistreated the lass and been unfaithful for years. She never gave him an heir so when a leman of his birthed a son, Connor's ancestor had his wife "compromised." Once he'd paid the men who would swear before the clan that it was she 216
who had been unfaithful, he had her hanged. Her last words uttered were that of the curse Mackenzie was here to "break."
So when the Campbell heard that Connor was away, visiting his sister and her newborn bairn, he'd seized the castle and lands that were previously Stewart, but by right MacRae. It had been a short and brutal siege, and if it weren't for the insult to Connor and the deaths of his clansmen, Connor would happily be rid of the lands.
Very few lived on the "accursed lands" and those who do have no livestock or crops; the earth was scorched. That was when the Campbell had sent for his wizards, who in turn brought Mackenzie here. While Connor didn't believe in the power of the curse itself, there was no denying the legend or the connection Mackenzie had to the Stewarts of his time. The power of the curse was in the minds of the simple folk who believed it to be true. This was where the Campbell's marriage to Mackenzie was ingenious; if he could convince the rest of the people that the curse was ended, he might be able to sway their loyalties.
Connor gritted his teeth at the thought of Mackenzie being married to the Campbell. The idea of that man, of any man for that matter, touching her, running his hands along the smooth silk of her skin. Feeling her heart speed as he took her. It made his blood boil and his vision turn red. She was his! The primal claimed resounded throughout the whole of his being. He took several deep breaths to calm himself; he didn't want Mackenzie to ask about his thoughts. Those thoughts, however, continued along the same path as before.
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