“Och, darlin’ Maggie.” He led her over to the opening near the base of the cairn. “Let’s go out from this place of death for a moment.”
Maggie crawled out and he followed, then pulled her to her feet and held her again. The unseasonably warm Highland evening wrapped itself around them as in the distance, the first faint curve of the moon could be seen risingabove Ben Lomond.
“I am so sorry,” he whispered. “I dinna have a clue that ye would come follow me.”
She slid her arms around his waist and rested her head on his chest. “I read about your death, and Ian’s, in a historybook,” she told him. “I knew that whatever plan you had cooked up, it wasn’t going to work. I had to come back and save you.”
Quinn gazed down into her face, smoothing her hair back gently, sweetly.
“Ah, but it worked perfectly. Ye just didn’t know what the plan was to be. Ye see, I made a grand show of trying to break Ian out of the dungeon and was captured, just as I’d planned. I had a pouch of herbs a healer gave me. Once eaten, within fifteen minutes, the person appears to be dead. Ian and I both ate the herbs the morning after I was arrested, and suddenly Montrose is being accused of poisoningus.”
Maggie shivered a little. “Bittie told me you were dead, and he was so distraught—”
“Aye, poor Bittie,” Quinn said. “I dared not tell a soul my true plan, except for Ian.”
“Ian.” She pulled back from him, suddenly cold. “Did he— Is he—?”
“Ian is fine. We split up after we left our ‘graves,’ arranging to meet here to say our good-byes.” He shook his head. “I had no idea you’d be here with the devil on your heels.”
She wasn’t over the terrible trauma of thinking she had lost him, but having him standing right in front of her was going a long way toward healing that wound.
“How in the world did you ever come up with this amazing plan, that, by the way, was actually very dangerous?The herbs that could put you into that condition are nothing to be messing around with!”
“Aye, so the healer tried to tell me. She was a good friend of my mother’s and was firmly against it until I convincedher that there was no other way.”
“What made you think of such a thing?” she asked.
He hugged her closer. “’Twas from an old story my mother used to tell me. A MacIntyre woman was held captiveand her children forced to live with her far from their father. Over the next ten years, one at a time, she faked each child’s death, and then sent their ‘bodies’ home over the mountain for burial with their clan.” He grinned. “Genius,eh?”
Maggie cleared her throat. “Ahem. I’d like to point out that a woman came up with that plan.”
“Och, lass,” he said, “I’m learnin’ that a woman’s plans are always the best kind. I’m so happy to have ye in my arms once more.”
“Well, there’s just one thing I have to say about the whole thing,” she said softly.
“Aye? And what is that?”
Maggie stepped back and slugged him in the arm. “Don’t you ever do something like that again!”
Quinn scowled, one hand to his arm. “Damn, woman, my tattoo is not yet healed!”
“Well, it serves you right—do you know what I went through? I thought you were dead!” she cried, and then threw her arms around his neck and bawled.
“Quinn! Maggie!”
Maggie jerked her head around. Coming up the hillside to the cairn was someone tall and blond. “Ian!” She flew out of Quinn’s arms and met the man halfway to throw her arms around his neck. He stopped, startled, and then hugged her in return. “I thought you were dead, too!” she cried. “Oh, I’m so happy!”
He smiled down at her, his arm around her shoulders. “Well, I dinna expect such an enthusiastic greeting.” She rocked against him for a minute as he cocked his head at Quinn. “Would ye like to gae us a few minutes of privacy, lad? I think ye’ve been replaced.”
Quinn folded his arms over his chest, shaking his head. “I’ve already defended her honor once tonight.”
Ian’s face darkened. “Who? What happened?”
“Pembroke,” Maggie told him.
“Did he hurt ye?”
“No.” She shook her head. “A big, bold highwayman cut him down before he could.”
Ian’s shoulders relaxed, and he glanced at Quinn. “Well done, brother. That is good news indeed, but I’m afraid I have some bad news as well.”
“What?” Maggie asked, her heart sinking.
“There is a patrol just a few miles from here. Apparently, Pembroke followed Maggie here and sent his adjutant back to the manor with word of where the guards should come. He suspected all was not on the up-and-up with our deaths, it seems.”
Maggie shot Quinn a sharp look. Now was the moment she’d been dreading, and been hoping for, depending on what Quinn chose to do.
Quinn frowned and pulled Maggie gently from Ian’s casualembrace. “Ye must leave, Ian. If ye disappear, there is no way they can prove or disprove yer death, nor link ye to Pembroke’s.”
Ian blinked. “Where will ye be?”
He looked down at Maggie and smiled. “Maggie and I are running away, to a place where there is peace and a chance to start over again.” He raised his eyes to his friend. “Go to Edinburgh,” he said, “change yer name and sail out on the first ship ye can find. Go to France or the colonies.”
Maggie saw the lost look that came across Ian’s face.
“Leave?” He shook his head. “Quinn, I dinna want to leave. This is my home.”
“Ye must, lad. At least for a time.”
Ian nodded, downcast. “Aye, ye are right, Quinn.” He reached out to clap him on one shoulder and Quinn did the same. “I will miss ye sorely, brother.”
“Aye,” Quinn said, “I’ll miss ye as well.”
“Guys, guys,” Maggie said, moving between the two. “Wait just a minute.” She turned toward Quinn. “Rememberhow you said women always have the best ideas?”
He frowned. “Aye.”
She put her hands on her hips and, gazing out across the Highlands as the moon rose and the shadows stretched across the valley, she smiled.
“Well, I have a doozy.”
epilogue
“Maggie, have you seen my necklace?” Allie said, as she rushed into the small room off the sanctuary of the little kirk in Drymen.
“Over there, on the desk,” Maggie told her.
“Maggie, have you seen my skean dhu?” Ellie said, as she rushed in right behind Allie.
“It’s in my backpack, out of harm’s way,” she told her sister.
“Maggie—”
“Maggie—”
“Girls, girls!” Rachel came frowning through the room, her hands on her hips. “Your sister is getting married today,remember? Kindly let her have ten minutes to get dressed before the ceremony starts!”
The twins grumbled, but soon scurried away, leaving Maggie in peace, with only Rachel for company.
“Thanks, Rach,” Maggie said. She stood in front of a full-length mirror, turning to and fro, admiring her weddinggown. Ellie had found it at a Renaissance shop in Edinburghand brought it home for Maggie’s approval, just last week.
After Quinn popped the question again and they set the date for just a month away, October ninth, Maggie had despairedof ever finding the right dress in time. But when she saw the colonial-style wedding gown made from creamy Indian silk dupioni, with a bodice corset layered with silk, an underskirt, and romantic full sleeves with a long “frill” falling from the elbow, both made from custom-embroidered net lace, she knew it was The One.
Just like she’d known that Quinn was The One, in spite of the interesting “challenges” of their relationship.
She laid her hand over the “stomacher” of bridal satin, trimmed with white braid and accented with handmade silk roses, all in a creamy white and laced up the back, and sighed in contentment. The dress fit her perfectly, and she felt like a princess. She smiled at her refle
ction. Her long, auburn hair hung to her waist in curling waves, and her tiara was a garland of white forget-me-nots, with a veil of embroidered lace falling from the flowers to the floor.
The bridesmaid outfits were traditional Scottish dresses, and Maggie had picked them out herself, giving Allie the deep blue skirt, with a lavender, blue, and cream plaid bodice; Ellie the purple skirt, with purple, blue, and cream plaid bodice; and finally, Rachel in the forest green skirt, with green, blue, and cream plaid bodice.
Each of the girls would be wearing blouses made from the same net lace in the same blouse style as Maggie’s, and each wore a blue forget-me-not garland in her hair.
She was in heaven. Not only was she marrying the man of her dreams, but she now had the job of her dreams. Alex MacGregor, inspired by his success in discovering the triskele in the “Drymen Cairn” as it was now called, had turned over a new leaf and abandoned his “archaeological digs for beginners” con and instead had actually applied for and received a grant to further explore and excavate the cairn.
And he had asked Maggie to be his paid assistant. Quinn had surprised her by asking Alex to be one of his groomsmen, and he’d offered to bring along his friend Davey, so that all three of the bridesmaids would have escorts.
“Maggie! Do you have your something old?” Rachel demanded, orchestrating the wedding like a drill sergeant.
“My mother’s pearls,” she said, turning and showing her the necklace.
“Check. Something new?”
“The tri-spiral ring you had made for me—which, by the way, I love!”
“Check! You’re welcome. Something borrowed?”
“Er, Ellie’s black garter?”
“Don’t understand that one, but check! And finally, something blue?”
Maggie turned and lifted a nosegay of blue forget-me-notsfrom a plastic box. Creamy white ribbons fell from the base, along with more custom-embroidered lace.
“A present from the groom,” Maggie said proudly.
“And check!”
Rachel sighed in satisfaction and stood beside her best friend, her arm around Maggie’s shoulders as they gazed into the mirror together. “Okay. I just want to say one thing.”
Maggie bit her lower lip. From the serious look on Rachel’s face it must be important. “Oh-kay,” she said.
“I call dibs on Ian.”
Maggie laughed and hugged her friend. Her idea to bring Ian home with them from the past would remain her and Quinn’s secret. He was still adjusting to the strange, new world in which he found himself, but as he said, it was better than rotting in the duke’s dungeon.
“Sorry, kiddo,” Maggie said, “but Ellie has already called him, and Allie is livid. Oh, and Ellie’s furious that he’s escorting you down the aisle today instead of her!”
Rachel grinned. “Hey, is it my fault that I’m the maid of honor, and he’s the best man?”
“This is a dream,” Maggie said softly. “I’m afraid that I’m just going to wake up and none of it will be real.”
Rachel turned her friend to face her and put her hands on her shoulders. “Of all the people I’ve ever known, Maggie,you deserve this the most. You are the kindest, most generous person in the world, and I am so honored to have you as my friend.”
Tears slipped down Maggie’s cheek and she laughed. “Now, see what you’ve done!” she cried, but then, unmindfulof her makeup or gown, she clasped her friend tightly. “Thanks, Rach. I love you.”
Rachel was leaving the next morning to go back to the States and Maggie was going to miss her terribly. The twins had decided to stick around awhile and get an apartmenttogether in Edinburgh. Maggie suspected that the arrival of Ian had something to do with that, and perhaps Alex as well.
“Maggie!” Allie and Ellie rushed into the room, their dresses flying, their faces glowing.
“It’s time!” Allie said.
“Come on,” Ellie cried. “You don’t want to be late to your own wedding!”
“Uh, before we go into the sanctuary . . .” Maggie turned to the three women and gave them her very best “stern teacher’s look.” “Do you three remember your promises?”
They all rolled their eyes and spoke in unison. “Ye-es,” they said.
“No jokes on my wedding day. Right?”
"Would we do that to you, Maggie?” Allie asked, all innocence.
“Right?” Maggie said again, more emphatically.
“Right,” Rachel said.
“Fine,” Allie agreed, “but we will definitely owe you one.”
“Hey,” Maggie said, gazing around at the three, “I love you all very much. Thank you for making this such a specialday with no jokes. Really, it means a lot.”
The three exchanged glances.
“I told you,” Ellie said.
“It’s not really a joke,” Allie began.
“It’s really more for her own good, if you think about it,” Rachel explained.
Maggie folded her arms over her dupioni silk and glared. “Okay, nobody leaves this room until you confess.”
“Well,” Rachel went on, “we don’t quite trust you, so— ready girls?”
Allie grabbed one arm. Ellie grabbed the other. Rachel slapped something around Maggie’s wrist and she stared down, horrified, at the ugly black bracelet.
“What in the world is this?”
“GPS unit,” Allie said. “Big sis, we are never going to lose you again.”
“Here,” Ellie said, opening a plastic florist’s box and taking out a wrist corsage made of forget-me-nots. She put it on top of the ugly wristband and almost completely hid it. “See, we think of everything.”
“You guys are insane,” Maggie said, glaring down at her wrist. She sighed and looked up. “But I couldn’t live withoutyou.”
The door opened and Alex stuck his head inside. “Hey, are ye getting married today, lass, or what? Quinn thinks ye ran out the back door. Come on!”
Hastily the girls lined up, Allie, Ellie, Rachel, Maggie.
“Tell them we’re ready, Alex,” Maggie said.
He nodded and disappeared, and a few minutes later, the sound of bagpipes echoed through the hallways of the tiny kirk. The tune was one of Quinn’s. He’d written it for her. Maggie’s throat tightened as the three women headed out of the room. They paused, lining up at the curved doorwayleading to the kirk, and she began to tremble.
Marriage was a big deal to Maggie. Her parents had been very happy together and she wanted to be happy, too. Not only was Quinn from another country, he was from anothertime. Not to mention the fact that he was much, much older than she. She smiled feebly at the thought.
What if he didn’t like the twenty-first century? Of course, he’d seemed thrilled to be there and had enrolled in music theory classes at the local university and had joined a pipe band.
But what if he changed his mind?
She looked up and saw that it was her turn to walk down the aisle. With her heart in her throat, she took the first step forward, hoping the beautiful pipe music would take away any fears, any qualms. She tried to smile as she approached her fiancé.
Quinn stood straight and tall, as she walked down the aisle toward him. Well, he looked like he was happy. So far, so good.
He wore the pattern of the ancient hunting tartan of Clan MacIntyre across his chest and in his kilt. The corn-flower blue and Kelly green background with the thin bands of red and white looked classy, but Maggie couldn’t help but miss his green and cream plaid.
He did look gorgeous, his dark hair curling over the collar of the romantic, full-sleeved, open-necked cream shirt Maggie found for him at a faire. He hadn’t liked the sissy socks and shoes that she’d talked him into wearing, but when he learned his groomsmen were wearing them, too, he had politely given in.
Maggie’s mouth was going dry as she walked toward this man, this stranger, to whom she was about to pledge her entire life. Marriage could be a trap or a beautiful union, and she wanted more than anything to ha
ve that union.
She finally reached the altar and Quinn took her hand. She was trembling and afraid to look at him. Then he bent down, just slightly.
“Ah, Maggie mine,” Quinn whispered, “ye are beautiful.”
And just like that, Maggie wasn’t afraid at all. This was her love, her friend, her partner in laughter and in sorrow, and as she looked into his eyes, she realized that no other couple in the entire world had ever had, or ever would have, the experience what they had lived through together. No other man and woman would ever battle time and space and evil and death to find each other once again. No other husband and wife would ever reach across three centuries to join their lives together in love and joy and happiness.
So, of course . . . they had it made.
And as Quinn and Maggie stood before their friends and their families and kissed, and the pastor of the small church pronounced them husband and wife . . .
On the other side of Drymen, in the heart of an ancient cairn, three spiral carvings, forged together by Time itself, began to glow.
Highland Rogue Page 27
