Promised to the Highlander: A Scottish Time Travel Romance

by Blanche Dabney

  “No. I dinnae see at all. Why can you not give me a straight answer to my questions?”

  “For the same reason I dinnae raise an army whenever danger beckons near my wee cottage. I am not taking charge of your life nor any life. I am just an old woman who likes her peace and I only came to bid greeting to a man in a bath.”

  “And I’m a man who is done with his bath so if you’ll excuse me.”

  She nodded, getting to her feet. “I shall see you at dinner this evening.”

  She was gone without a sound leaving Callum to climb out of the bath and dry himself by the fire. He looked down at his body, examining the damaged skin, the bruises, the scars from a lifetime of conflict. He wouldn’t mind a life of peace if he was able to share it with Kerry.

  That wasn’t to be of course so he had no option but to marry Nessa. He dressed and left the infirmary, the heat of the fire soon no more than a distant memory. If only he could say the same of Kerry.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Kerry had made her mind up. She would wait until they got to the old hall and then cry out for help. The place had been deserted when she’d last been there but Callum had told her why. They had all been summoned to the castle or something like that, leaving the way clear for a MacCleod to enter MacIntyre land without sparking war.

  There were bound to be people there this time. She might not be able to escape the painful grip Edward had on her but she wouldn’t need to. Once they got there and she started screaming the entire population would come charging over and in the confusion she’d run for it. She’d get through the portal on her own and keep running. In her own time the police would be able to help her keep Edward away. Here she could only rely on herself.

  There was no point trying to get to Callum. She would only make his life worse.

  He had to marry Nessa. That was the conclusion she’d reached as they grew closer to MacIntyre hall. She kept looking around her for any sign of life but there was nothing yet.

  She’d decided it would be better for him to marry the woman he was supposed to. Even if he did love Kerry it wouldn’t be possible for the two of them to be together, not really. They were from different worlds. He was used to violence and death surrounding him but she wasn’t. Not only that but if she stayed she risked causing clan war.

  Edward would keep chasing her too and she shuddered to think of the damage he could do to a medieval people. What if he brought a gun back with him? Even the strongest medieval highlander could do little against a revolver or a shotgun.

  Or what if he tried some sports almanac shenanigans? The future might be President Edward. The idea didn’t bear thinking about.

  She would get through the portal and then she would destroy it. That was the only way to protect the past and the future. How could she destroy it? She would work that out when she got there.

  The main thing she needed to do was break free from him. Could she get through the portal and destroy it before he got through? Could that work? Leave him stuck in the past to get an arrow through the throat when he picked on the wrong highlander. That might just work.

  She would be in the present and it would be as good as killing him but without any of the moral complications. He’d be trapped in the past and she’d finally be safe.

  The downside would be that she would never get to be with Callum. She did her best not to think about that part.

  They turned a corner and there was the hall in front of them. A plume of black smoke was rising from it. The hall itself was ablaze.

  It was a hellish image and for a moment Kerry couldn’t take in what was happening. There was too much to see.

  Edward’s hand slipped from hers as he stood in shock staring at the sight before him.

  An old woman burst out from the flames, appearing in the doorway and then staggering away. At the same moment a group of men carrying flaming torches were running over to the hovels next to the hall. Another group of men on horseback were riding in from the road to the right.

  “We need to help them,” Kerry said, taking a step forward.

  Edward blocked her way. “No we don’t. We need to go home.”

  “But there are people in trouble.” Already the men with torches were setting fire to the hovels, the thatch was alight, more dark smoke rising into the air. “They need our help.”

  “Don’t you get it? These people are already dead. They died hundreds of years ago.”

  “No they didn’t.” She saw another person bursting out from the doorway, this one also somehow not ablaze. “They’re alive right now.”

  “Listen, we’re going home and that’s all there is to it.”

  “How?”

  “What?”

  “How are we going home. The place is an inferno.”

  “She just came out of it and that guy just ran inside. It can’t be that bad.”

  Glancing from side to side, Kerry thought about screaming but realized the noise would be lost against the roar of the fire. As she looked past the village she saw the old woman stagger back and vanish out of sight.

  Edward had let go of her again and was busy staring at the fight. She took her chance, running as fast as she could toward the old woman. She heard him shouting behind her but she didn’t look back, sprinting across the grass toward what she saw was a steep riverbank.

  She stopped at the edge and looked down into the foaming torrent. There she was, her head just vanishing below the waves. “Hold on,” she shouted, sliding her way down the bank, her arm outstretched. She tried to stop at the edge but the grass was slick with dew and she was unable to prevent herself from losing balance.

  With a single gasp she fell headfirst into the river and was immediately lost under the water. Opening her eyes she saw the old woman floating nearby, the two of them being fast washed downstream. Putting on a spurt of speed she kicked her legs and grabbed hold of the stranger, lifting her head to the surface so she could breathe.

  The current was too strong for her to do anything but hold onto the unconscious woman and pray they both made it out of the river alive.

  She had no idea how long they floated through the churning torrent but after an eternity of fighting for breath and spitting out foam the current finally began to slow and she was able to look around her. On both sides were trees lining the bank. The smoke from the fire at the old hall was nowhere to be seen. The only sound was the river and her own labored breathing.

  Rolling onto her back, she kicked with her legs, keeping her arm around the old woman who still hadn’t moved. Eventually she made it to the bank, using the last of her strength to drag her companion onto the grass.

  Utterly exhausted she laid back, her eyes closing at once. The sound of the river faded away.

  The next thing she knew she was lying in a lumpy bed hearing someone say “She’s alive. I know she is.”

  Opening her eyes, she said, “Who’s alive?”

  She was in some kind of large hall,

  “My daughter,” the old woman next to her said. “She’s at MacIntyre hall.”

  “That’s a coincidence,” Kerry replied, sitting up and looking around her. Who was the woman next to her? She knew her from somewhere. “That’s where I was headed. Where am I?”

  “Crossraguel abbey apparently.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “The abbot just left. Is it true that you dragged me out of the river?”

  All of a sudden the memories came flooding back. “I remember. You fell in and I went in after you. It had gone for a moment but now I remember.”

  “What’s your name?”

  She knew that without having to think. She knew everything that had happened from falling out of the window in MacCleod castle to that moment. “Kerry Sutherland.”

  “Janet Dagless. Thank you, for getting me out of the river I mean.”

  “Don’t mention it. Any idea how we got here?”

  “I think one of the monks found us on his way to a grange.”

&n
bsp; “A grange?”

  “Like a farm but run by the abbey monks instead of tenant farmers.”

  “Oh, I see. So we’re in an abbey. Is that allowed, us being women and all?”

  “I heard them talking about that very subject. They want to move us to the guesthouse when we’re well enough.”

  “I feel fine now. How about you?”

  “All I want to do is get back to MacIntyre hall and find my daughter.”

  “Your daughter. What did she look like?”

  “Like me but younger and with fewer wrinkles.”

  “What was she wearing?”

  Janet described perfectly the woman that Kerry had seen walking out of the inferno moments after her mother. “I saw her,” she said when the older woman was done. “She came out right after you.”

  “So she’s alive? Thank god. I have to go find her.”

  “Hold on. You’re heading up to MacIntyre hall?”

  “Right this minute.”

  “Then let me come with you. You look like you’re struggling to walk.”

  “I’m fine.” Janet climbed out of bed and staggered on her feet for a moment. “Which way’s out?”

  “Come on. We’ll go together. Find your daughter and then get back to our own time.”

  “Our own time. What do you mean our own time?”

  Kerry swung her legs out of the bed, testing her balance as she stood up. Nothing seemed broken though she felt as bruised as she had when she woke up in the middle ages for the first time. “Brace yourself for a bit of a shock but this isn’t the twenty-first century.”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “I’m not. This is the twelfth century and we’re in the middle of clan territory in the highlands.”

  “Are you sure you didn’t hit your head when you went underwater?”

  “You’ll see soon enough. Come on, let’s get going. The sooner we head north, the sooner we get home.”

  As they made their way outside, Kerry thought fast. They needed to get to the old hall. That part should be easy enough. Edward might be hiding there though, waiting for her to come back. She would need to keep an eye out for him.

  Once she was certain it was safe she would get the two of them through to the present, hopefully with Beth with them too. Then she would find a way to destroy the doorway so Edward couldn’t follow them.

  That was if the doorway was still there. What if the fire had destroyed it? She tried to think about how it had looked. It was made of stone. Wouldn’t that give it a chance to survive the inferno?

  Eventually she decided not to worry about it. There was nothing she could do but get there and find out for herself whether it still existed.

  To do that they needed to get out of the abbey, not easy when the entire place seemed surrounded by a tall stone walls.

  When they got near the church she heard the sound of male voices singing in unison, the sound echoing out toward them, loud in the quiet of the day.

  “They must be in the middle of a service,” she said. “Perfect timing for us to get out of here.”

  “How? There’s a guard on the gate.”

  Kerry tried each door they came to. She found what she wanted on the third attempt. A pile of clothing waiting to be washed. “Put this on,” she said to Janet before slipping a habit over her own clothes.

  A few minutes later they were outside the walls and heading north, just two laborers walking from one job to another.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Callum had managed to find an hour to himself. The peace it brought him was in stark contrast to the chaos going on inside the castle. The wedding preparations were in full flow and everywhere he turned someone was asking him something.

  He didn’t care about whether the flowers would wilt if they were picked too early, nor what color they were. He didn’t care about the amount of grain being brought out of the winter store to provide the feast. He didn’t even care about his future bride.

  He had tried. He had done his best to make conversation with her but she had made it abundantly clear she wanted absolutely nothing to do with him.

  The very first time they’d met, she had whispered in his ear, “I want to make it very clear that I have no desire to marry a MacCleod.”

  “Point taken,” he replied, looking around the great hall at all the happy diners. Everyone was enjoying the meal apart from him.

  “If I had my way I would marry the man I love,” she continued. “A man with MacKay blood running through his veins.”

  “I get it.”

  “I hate you.”

  It was fair to say their initial encounter did not go as well as Callum’s parents might have hoped.

  Standing next to the shore of the loch, the only sound was that of the water gently lapping at the heather covered grass. Across the water two curlews were coming into land. The sun had not long risen and streaks of orange and red coated the far mountainsides. The tops were sprinkled with the first snows of the winter. It would not be long before a white blanket covered most of the MacCleod lands.

  Mild autumns always led to severe winters. Callum found himself thinking about the amount of food in the castle stores, making rough calculations about how much was going to waste. First the feast to celebrate the betrothal and now more for the wedding feast. Would there be enough for the winter?

  What he wanted to do was go back inside and call off this farce. She did not want to marry him. She had made clear there was a man she loved back at MacKay castle and if only she had an excuse to cancel the ceremony she would take it without a moment’s hesitation.

  He could give her an excuse. He could tell her about Kerry, tell her that he too was in love with another woman.

  He had thought about raising the issue but decided against it. The wheels were in motion. The wedding was going to happen. If she backed out his father would likely banish him for all time.

  Besides, he thought as he skimmed a stone across the water, he hadn’t heard a thing from Kerry since she left. No doubt she was already back home in her own time. Would she look him up in her history books? Find out what had happened to him?

  If she did she would see that he married Nessa MacKay like he was supposed to. There would be no mention of his inability to summon up any positive feelings about the wedding. How he’d watch her berating the kitchen girls for burning her toast, yelling at them until they cried. How she’d demanded, and been given, better accommodation at the castle, thicker blankets, a bigger bed, more servants. She seemed determined to make as many enemies as possible but no matter what she did, his parents turned a blind eye. Even when she kicked the farrier’s cat from the battlements for hissing at her, Alan MacCleod just turned away and said nothing.

  “Did you not see that?” Callum said to him. “You would still have me marry her?” The cat limped away, mewling piteously.

  “You have to marry her to align the clans,” his father replied through gritted teeth, walking away without another word.

  Callum felt something by his ankle. Looking down he saw the bundle of fur purring and rubbing against his leg. “Good morning Roughshod,” he said, reaching down to stroke the cat’s head. “Glad to see your leg’s on the mend.”

  The cat yawned loudly before darting its head to the left. Catching sight of a field mouse it stalked off leaving Callum to turn back to the loch. He felt more affection for Roughshod than he did for Nessa MacKay. She also didn’t hiss at him as often.

  A horn blew out in the castle, the sound echoing loudly around the valley. With a sigh Callum turned and headed back. The sound of his doom. Someone was looking for him. He doubted it would be anything good.

  As he walked back up he thought about the men out on patrol. They had gone without him. He hadn’t expected that. On the morning they were due to leave he had climbed out of bed before light and made his way to the stables only to find the horses were gone, the men were gone, and any hope he had of maintaining the life he desired was gone.


  The laird had sent them without him, insisted they go according to his mother despite their vocal protests. “It was patrol or be banished,” she said to him when he found her in the solar. “They had no choice. You are soon to be wed. This is not the time to go out and get a sword to the gut.”

  On the way back up to the castle he kicked a stone as hard as he could. It struck the castle wall and bounced back with surprising force, catching him on the forehead.

  “Violence often has unpredictable results,” a voice said from the castle gates.

  “Nice to have some sympathy,” Callum replied, wiping the blood away from his eyes. “How are you Fingal?”

  “Abbot Fingal now.”

  “Abbot? Which bunch of fools put you in charge?”

  “The monks of Crossraguel have better judgment than you, Callum. In many things.”

  The abbot smiled, holding out a hand to shake. Callum took it, surprised by how strong the grip was. “It’s good to see you.”

  “And you. What brings you here?”

  “I came to bless the wedding.”

  “You’ve heard then?”

  “All the highlands have heard of the union of the MacCleods to the MacKays. The MacIntyres are thinking of uniting with the Campbells and the MacDonalds in return. They think you mean to invade.”

  Callum swore quietly. “The whole point of the wedding was to make things safer, to bring peace to the highlands and islands.”

  “Not everyone sees it that way. I tried telling your father but he will not listen. You marry Nessa and the other clans unite against you. All he sees is the dowry that will come with the wedding.”

  A light went on above Callum’s head. “Of course. That’s why he’s not worried about wasting our food on the feast. He’ll get the stores refilled by old man MacKay.”

  “And their people will starve instead.”

  Callum nodded. “Still, it must be done. I have no choice.”