Finding My Highlander

by Aleigha Siron

  “Welcome, Lady Andra,” Lorne rose to assist her to a seat next to his mother.

  Beatrice patted her trembling hand, “Dinnae let the gossips disturb you. ‘Tis just their curiosity o’er you. You’ll win their hearts soon enough.” Beatrice smiled sweetly and eyed Lorne in silent communication while Andra took the seat offered.

  Before sitting again, he raised his mug, “Raise your cups and let us welcome our guest, Lady Andra, whose ministrations following my recent injuries are the reason I stand before you this day.”

  Lorne didn’t use her last name. Possibly to avert the crowd’s anger over her being a Cameron. Besides, she’d heard that that information had already made the rounds of Castle Ruadhstone—more than once.

  Lorne winked at her then turned back to the room. He hadn’t missed the disgruntled murmurings. “The laird and his kin offer Lady Andra sanctuary and our protection,” he continued in a voice that brooked no further discussion or dissent, intent on settling the matter.

  Hushed whispers and grumbles hissed through the crowd, but everyone raised their cups and toasted, though none too enthusiastically. One girl sitting at a table to the left lashed her with a stare of pure venom then quickly covered her glare and turned away. The woman looked familiar; Andra seemed to remember her in the sickroom during the fog of her illness.

  Beatrice introduced the others sitting at their table. A beautiful young woman with long, golden locks and eyes the color of dark chocolate sat to Lorne’s left. Her adoring gaze followed Lorne’s every move.

  “May I introduce Lorne’s betrothed, Lady Edana, and her father, Laird John Keith.”

  The father spoke with a deep rumbling voice, “We are pleased to welcome the lass who aided Lorne’s recovery following his recent injuries.” He raised his mug to his lips, but his eyes scrutinized her closely and lacked warmth.

  Edana smiled shyly and nodded, “‘Tis an honor to meet you, m’lady. I ken we shall be good friends. I am ever so grateful for the care you rendered Lorne.” Then she glanced at Lorne, starry eyed, obviously besotted.

  “I hope we will be the best of friends.” Andra replied warmly. The days ahead would no doubt find her in need of every ally possible.

  The aroma of roasted meat and an assortment of roasted vegetables enticed Andra, but a meager appetite permitted only a few bites and small sips of wine. She considered asking why Kendrick and his men were absent, but held her tongue. After the meal, several individuals pushed the trestle tables back against the walls as men took up their instruments to begin the evening’s entertainment.

  Lorne stood again and raised his mug to gain the clan’s attention. “This night it also pleases me to announce the wedding date for myself and my lovely betrothed, Edana. The wedding will take place in a month.” The room erupted in rousing approval, much different from the weak greeting her introduction elicited.

  “Kyle tells us that you have a lovely voice, Andra. Would you grace us with a song tonight?” Isabel asked sweetly.

  Kyle and his sister, seated at a table just below the left side of the dais, had heard Isabel’s request and the lad jumped to his feet. “Aye, ‘tis true, even the Laird says she sings as sweet as the wee birds. I think she is an angel.” His smile beamed over crooked, little, white teeth and his cheeks were rosy blooms.

  Andra smiled at him, her heart about to burst. Impossible to refuse his entreaty, she thought for a moment about what song might please this crowd and not sound too strange or out of place. She decided on “My Heart Will Go On,” a love song to honor Lorne and his Edana, and hoped it would meet with their approval. After all, the song didn’t specifically reference a shipwreck and losses at sea. The song’s sentiment easily applied to these harsh times—words about love held in one’s heart no matter the circumstances lovers faced.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Kendrick and his men climbed the stairs to the keep as Andra started to sing. He stopped just inside the door to listen, noticing every face riveted on her.

  “Ahh, the lass sings like an angel when she’s no yelling and curse’in at you or Struan.” Rabbie chuckled.

  The vision before Kendrick completely captivated him. Her thick, russet hair glistened with golden and amber light like the threads in her gown reflected the hearth’s fire. She faced the dais and seemed to address Lorne and Edana but her words riveted him as if she sang for him alone. The hairs stood up along his arms despite a lack of chill in the air. Damn, he had been in her presence but a few minutes, and already, the desire to whisk her away to his bed filled him with a need beyond anything he could recall. Answers first, he told himself.

  When she finished, several seconds of quiet hesitation blanketed the hall and then the clan erupted in applause disturbing a babe wrapped in its mother’s arms. The child wailed and Andra turned to the woman and reached for the baby. The woman paused, then handed the infant over. Andra crooned softly and sang a lullaby as she swayed and flitted between the bairns nestled by the fire. All eyes, young and old alike, followed her every move. The musicians picked up her rhythm and added a bit of string, pipes, and a soft tap on a bodhrán drum.

  “She enchants them all,” Struan grumbled, but a smile tipped the corners of his mouth and crinkled around his eyes.

  Andra was still singing to the children when she turned and saw Kendrick at the door. She graced him and his men with a dazzling smile. Her song finished, she handed the quieted babe back to its mother. The musicians began a more rousing tune while the clan yelled a welcome to their laird, and men moved to dance with the women strolling about the hall.

  “Tis time the bairns retire for the night,” Beatrice called to the assembly. She went to her son and kissed his cheek in welcome. “Perhaps you should escort Lady Andra to her rooms. It’s her first night in the hall, and I fear we have o’er tired her.”

  When Andra drew near, Kendrick noticed dark-blue crescents under her eyes, and she appeared thinner than when he’d last seen her. He swept a bow and held out his arm, “You look tired, lass. Perhaps it is time to retire for the night.”

  “I’ll admit I feel a bit fatigued.” She curtsied awkwardly to his mother and the dais then allowed Kendrick to escort her from the room.

  The touch of her cool fingers ignited a fire to his insides. He was grateful his sporran covered the bulge below his waist. “It seems you weave your magic on the clan with your lovely voice.”

  She looked at him askance. “We’re not back to that topic, are we? I thought you and I were in accord on the matter of magic.” A smile tweaked the corners of her lips. Her voice held a congenial and flirtations lilt.

  Kendrick patted her hand, “Aye, so we are.” When they entered her room, he stoked the fire, unsuccessfully fighting his desire for her. He flexed his muscles in an effort to relax the tension rippling across his shoulders.

  “I’m glad you’ve returned unharmed. I’ll admit to missing you and the men.” The whisper of a smile hovered on lush lips that she moistened with her tongue. In two strides, he had her in his arms and searched her eyes for any sign of reluctance. He needed no encouragement beyond her brilliant smile. He laid a gentle kiss over her wet mouth. Her arms snaked around his neck as she pressed her body into his, and all gentleness fled. He consumed her lips, his tongue invading her with deep, probing strokes. Running his fingers through the strands of her braid, he loosened her hair until it tumbled in a mass around her shoulders.

  He released her mouth when she gently pushed her hands against the planes of his chest. “Perhaps we should sit, enjoy the fire, a glass of wine, and a pleasant chat before I retire.” She urged them to restraint, but he could see she felt the same desire that roared through his veins.

  Kendrick cradled her face in his hands and kissed her forehead. “Och, lass, I think we both would enjoy something more stimulating than a chat and a glass of wine.”

  Rather than move to retrieve the wine and glasses on the small bedside table, his hands removed her jacket and ran seductively down her si
des. “Your gown is fetching and you wear no corset.”

  He ignored the niggling rebuke in the back of his mind that cautioned control. When he cupped her breasts and trailed kisses down her neck and across the flesh below her collarbone, Andra sighed and gripped his shoulders.

  “I thought it too constrictive and knew it would hurt my ribs.” she responded breathlessly while easing away from his ravishment.

  He took a half step back from her and loosened his hands to a light touch on her waist. He was a cad and not behaving in a gentlemanly manner. Nevertheless, he had not been able to shake his burning desire for her, nor the need to give her shelter and protection. Those thoughts had preoccupied him since he’d last seen her stricken with grief and illness and curled into a ball on his bed.

  “You are still sore from the injury you incurred at the river?” he asked, genuinely concerned.

  “The incessant coughing over the past week did nothing to reduce the discomfort.” Her eyes never left his. “You have caught me off-guard, Laird MacLean. You honor me with your interest in my welfare. However, I think we should take a moment to catch our breath. Don’t you agree?”

  “You may address me as Kendrick when we are in private, Andra, considering our prior intimacies and the fact that you have repeatedly used my given name.” He released her and took up the wine and glasses. “You’re right, of course. Please sit and tell me how you’ve fared in my absence.”

  They had already shared one amazing night of intimacy, so why the hesitation now? She wasn’t an innocent. She had known a man before and given birth to a son. God’s bones, she tempted him, and he desperately wanted to divest her of her clothing and gorge himself on her hot center. He also prided himself on his self-control, which he found nowhere in evidence at present.

  Before she took her seat, he raised his hands to pull her back into his embrace but stopped short. That would not be prudent and he knew it, recalling the words he’d rehearsed repeatedly; answers, you need answers from her before this goes any further. He couldn’t shake the nagging thought that the answers he sought would profoundly affect the future of his clan. You dinnae want an attachment. You dinnae want a wife, especially one with no acknowledged clan connections, and a Cameron to boot.

  He put the lie to himself again, but in the back of his mind, he knew it was a lie—all of it, except for the itching need to understand the mysteries surrounding her.

  * * *

  Andra had not yet taken a seat. Kendrick set the glasses and wine on the raised hearth facing the chairs. He started to reach for her again but stopped and silently waited. Even she knew this meeting alone in her room went beyond all propriety. But then again, what did anyone really know about the private, intimate engagements between men and women over three hundred years in her past. Why send away the most handsome, luscious man she’d ever met, a man who plainly wanted her as much as she wanted him. Soon enough she would find a way to leave, but for now, why not enjoy their time together. After all, she was a twenty-first century woman despite this temporary visit to the seventeen hundreds.

  Relenting to the desire that flooded her senses, she decided not to deny the moment. Just thinking about their previous encounter made her wet and tingly with anticipation. The second time around could only be better than the first, and their first shared passion had been spectacular. Besides, she had truly missed him.

  She smiled her most seductive smile and turned her back. “Will you help me unlace this gown, m’lai—Kendrick?” She remembered him saying he liked the sound of his name when she spoke it. Moreover, this time she spoke it with unveiled longing.

  When his fingers touched her shoulders, she noted their incredible strength. He leaned in and took a deep breath against her hair. “De you ken what you ask of me, Andra? Are you sure you want me to bed you again when I can make no promises, and I will not take you to wife? There are many questions I still need answered, and I suspect some of your own you’d wish to clarify.”

  And there it was—the proverbial bucket of ice dumped on her desire, strumming every fear she held at bay concerning her future should she not be able to leave this time period. Despite the heat from his touch and a blazing fire in the hearth, she suddenly shivered with chill. What would become of her? Who would protect her? She could not become his mistress or even more frightening, have him consider her his whore and pass her off to one of his men once he slacked his lust. Now that he knew about her son, he probably considered her a fallen woman or worse. What was she thinking to invite another tryst?

  Her mouth dropped open at her stupidity and she stepped away, pulling her arms across her chest. His words were a flint igniting her anger. “I don’t believe I’ve asked you to wed me, my laird.” She harshly bit out the retort.

  “Andra, I mean no offense. You know I desire you, and I can see the desire is mutual, but I will not lie to you. It is best we are clear about our standing before things between us progress.”

  “Of course,” she snapped, “you are right, I’m just tired and not thinking clearly. Please, leave me.” She squared her shoulders, straightened her back, and lifted her face to his.

  A spark lit in his eyes. His mouth drew into a straight line and his jaw tensed. She could see the anger and frustration, but he didn’t argue or comment. Without another word, he stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

  Sleep evaded Andra that night. She tossed and turned. Just thinking about Kendrick’s words made her burn and freeze in equal measure. “I must get my wits about me and find a way to return to my time,” she whispered into the dark. Nevertheless, a crack had formed in that resolve though she ignored it completely.

  Andra arose from her bed in the still-dark, pre-dawn hours. She pulled on a pair of her black leggings, black slip-on running shoes, and slipped on a plain linen shift and lightweight over gown. Finally, she pulled her leather vest over the shift and tied her hair in a ponytail with a piece of ribbon. It was time to get back into shape and it would start this morning. With her sgian dubh tucked into the inner pocket of her vest, she headed to the shed in the lower bailey to find the practice weapons stored there. She located the smaller weapons designed to teach younger boys the art of combat and pulled out a small bow and quiver of arrows. It would work perfectly for her purposes.

  “Thank you, Dad,” she said to the dark sky. Her father had insisted she learn archery and though she had originally balked at the idea, she quickly grew to love their time spent on the archery field.

  Tucking the ends of her skirts into a knot at her side, she began with a good stretching routine. By the time she finished the sky had turned a deep violet-gray, and she could see the hay targets used for bow practice. Movement in the upper bailey alerted her that people had begun their early morning tasks, tending to the castle and its inhabitants. Stretching out tight muscles in her shoulders and arms, she notched an arrow and took aim at the closest target. Concentrating, she let the first arrow fly and quickly re-notched another arrow aiming for the next target farther out.

  Chapter Twenty

  Kendrick walked the parapet as he often did in the early morning before his clan and the demands of the keep claimed his time. He had slept little the night before. Thoughts of Andra plagued him. After leaving her last evening he went to the village inn, thinking he would slack his lust with a bar wench or some other willing woman. A comely lass accompanied him to an upper room, but when they reached the door, he abruptly changed his mind—something he had never done before.

  He could not remove the vision of Andra with her head tilted; that sweet smile, those sultry eyes, her inviting, velvet voice made him grow hard just thinking about it. Then the sudden chilled reversal that arose when she stared him down and ordered him to leave her. She was, of course, in the right, but still…

  He spied Andra leaving the keep and heading toward the practice fields. At first, he thought to go after her, but decided she could not reach any place unobserved from his present position. It would be better to exa
mine her movement and discern why she skulked about in the dark.

  “Well, well, will our mystery woman never cease to amaze us?” asked Rabbie, watching as another arrow smacked the center of its target even in the low light of pre-dawn. “She’s an impressive woman, that she is. Did she disclose anything else last night?”

  “Nae,” Kendrick snapped.

  Rabbie quirked an eyebrow, “Why don’t you make her explain the things in her bag for starters? Mayhap it will nudge her to an open discussion.”

  “Humph. Perhaps a day in the dungeon would loosen her tongue.” However, Kendrick knew he would never throw her into that dank, filthy place under any circumstance, not even if she proved to be from an enemy clan. Besides, her recent illness still weakened her.

  “She will withdraw further if I push too soon or too harshly.” Yet he did want to push. He wanted to push and push until she disclosed every secret and then he wanted to push his hard manhood into her sweet flesh and claim her once again.

  After Andra loosed a few more shots, she dropped the bow and arrows and started running toward the lower gate. Kendrick’s muscles tightened. Did she intend to escape? When she approached the inside curtain wall, she picked up her pace and ran a circle around the entire bailey two more times before returning to the weapons she’d left on the grass. Bending over to retrieve the items, she suffered a severe coughing fit.