Highlander’s Curse

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Highlander’s Curse Page 15

by Melissa Mayhue


  Ellie’s face clearly reflected an internal battle over the words she chose. “It certainly seems like it should work that way, doesn’t it?” With a shrug, she picked up another item from the bundle and headed around the bed to where Abby waited. “By all means, you can try wishing yourself back any time you want, but I wouldn’t hold my breath expecting it to work.”

  “Wait.” Abby caught Ellie’s hand with her own as the other woman held out another garment to her. “What do you mean it won’t work?”

  Again Ellie shrugged. “I’m not saying it absolutely won’t. I’m only saying it didn’t for me. The real version of Faerie Magic isn’t at all like the fairy tales you and I grew up on. You can’t just rub a lamp and get three wishes. See, the thing is, the Faerie Magic works for its own purpose. It’s almost like the Fae are only loaning you their Magic to get you to do something they want done. If they granted your wish, they had a reason. They want something to happen. Whether it’s some lesson you have to learn or some task that needs to be performed, until that particular thing is done, no matter what you want, you’re stuck here. At least, that’s how it worked for me.”

  If all this was real, how completely awful for this poor woman to be stranded here, so far away from her own time.

  “Couldn’t you ever figure out your task? Is that why you’re still here?”

  “Oh, no,” Ellie chuckled. “I’m here because this is where Caden is. And I was meant to be with Caden.”

  “In fourteenth-century Scotland,” Abby countered, fully aware of the sarcasm in her voice. “With no cars and no cell phones, and not even any freaking toilet paper.”

  Ellie’s responding giggle was infectious. “Oh, honey, believe me, there are things that are so much more important than any of that stuff. I wouldn’t trade my life with Caden MacAlister for all the toilet paper in the entire twenty-first century. You wait and see. You’ll get used to it here.”

  “Used to it? Oh, I don’t think so. I can’t even begin to imagine wanting to live in the fourteenth century. If I really am out of my own time, you can bet I’m going to do whatever it takes to get myself back to where I belong.”

  Ellie shrugged. “But until you manage that, since you’re an archaeologist and all, maybe you can think of this as a hands-on learning experience. You know, like an up close and personal chance to study the things you normally only see after they’ve rotted in the ground for centuries.” She leaned back over the bed, digging through the piles of clothing while she spoke as if she were discussing nothing more important than the weather. “Well, darn. I guess I didn’t grab those little slippers after all. You wait right here, and I’ll be right back.”

  With that, she hurried out the door, pulling it softly shut behind her.

  Abby brushed her hands down the long overdress she’d slipped over her head, absently smoothing the soft fabric as her mind worked frantically to process all she’d been told.

  Just because wishing didn’t work for Ellie didn’t mean it wouldn’t work for her. Assuming it had ever worked at all.

  One way to find out.

  “I wish to be back to my own time.” She stood very still, eyes closed, waiting.

  Nothing.

  Maybe the Faeries were simply concerned with her well-being and didn’t want to send her back into danger.

  “Okay, then. I can respect that. I wish I were safely back in my own home, in Denver, in my own time.” Again she waited, watching for any tiny sign that might indicate it was working.

  Where was the green lightning Ellie had spoken of? Or the green bubble of light she’d seen in the cave? Or even—oh, my God!—the green glow she’d seen the night in the bar when she’d wished to find the one man for her?

  Maybe it was true. Maybe it was all true. But if it was, why wasn’t it working now?

  The little dog at her feet let out a growly moan and laid her chin on Abby’s bare foot, her big brown eyes actually looking sorrowful.

  “Sucks, doesn’t it, dog?” Abby reached down to scratch the little furball at her feet. “I’m doing the wishing thing, just like everybody keeps swearing is true, but I’m sure not seeing anything.”

  “Missy’s real sorry it didn’t work for you.”

  Abby jumped, thinking for a moment the dog had spoken, since she hadn’t heard Ellie’s silent entrance.

  “I’m sorry, too.” Ellie handed over a pair of soft leather slippers. “But I can’t say I’m surprised. Like I said before, Faerie Magic works on its own mysterious timetable, only when it’s good and ready. You know, it’s likely that, since the Fae sent you along with Colin, he’s part of whatever it is they want from you. One thing I’ve learned: there are no coincidences when it comes to Faerie Magic. Everything that happens, happens for a reason. I’m guessing that whatever you have to do to get home, you have to do it with Colin.”

  Colin was the missing piece of her return-home equation? In that case, wherever Colin was, that was where she intended to be.

  “He’s downstairs?”

  Ellie nodded. “As far as I know he is. The midday meal is the largest one of the day. One thing I should mention, though. We don’t really talk openly about the Magic in front of everyone. Though the whole clan has heard the Faerie stories, they don’t all have firsthand knowledge of their truth. We try to keep that limited to just the immediate family.”

  Abby nodded her understanding. She could see how that might tend to be the sort of thing that could scare off the hired help.

  “So.” Ellie smiled brightly and looped her arm through Abby’s. “Speaking of the family, you ready to meet them?”

  “As ready as I’ll ever be.” What she was really ready for was to find Colin MacAlister and give that wishing thing another go.

  Twenty-four

  Colin?”

  His back stiffened and he sat straighter in his chair at the long table in the Great Hall.

  He hated it when his mother began by using his name in that particular tone of voice. It was the one she reserved for determining which of her boys had broken into her dried fruits or which of them had trampled through her herb garden when they were young. To this day it immediately put him on the defensive.

  “I met yer Abby at midday meal. She’s a lovely young woman, though I believe she was distressed you dinna join us.”

  He felt the rebuke of her statement but couldn’t bring himself to explain his absence. It wasn’t as if he were actually avoiding Abby. There had been arrangements to be made for his travels on the morrow.

  “She’s no my Abby.”

  “Oh?” Rosalyn smiled up at the serving girl who filled her cup, waiting until the girl moved on. “There’s a thing which has troubled my thoughts since our talk this morn. Would you mind if we discussed it before yer Abby joins us?”

  With resignation, he nodded his acquiescence. There was obviously no deterring his mother once she set her course.

  “Once I sat down to my mending, I began to wonder, Colin, if the Magic sent this lovely young woman, this Abby of yers, into yer bed without a single stitch of clothing, would I be correct in my assumption that you also were in that bed? And that you also were unclothed as she was?”

  “I’ll admit, Cousin, the same has crossed my mind,” Blane added from Rosalyn’s left.

  “And mine, as well,” Caden chimed in.

  Perfect. The whole of the clan seemed intent on joining in this discussion of his and Abby’s state of undress.

  He started to answer but paused, considering where his mother was leading this conversation. As if the room were closing in on him from all sides, he quickly realized there was no answer he could give that wouldn’t bring looks of disapproval to every face at the table. For a brief instant he considered lying but discarded that idea even as it formed. It wasn’t just that the telling of untruths violated his sense of honor. He also doubted it would help, since he’d spent the better part of his childhood half-convinced that his mother had the uncanny ability to read his thoughts.
r />   The truth it was, then.

  “Aye.”

  The admission was made more uncomfortable by his inability to follow up by telling them it had all been perfectly innocent and platonic. It had, in fact, been anything but. And truth be told, he knew in his heart that were he to find himself in a similar situation, he’d do the exact same again.

  “I see.”

  The arch in his mother’s brow should have warned him of what was to come, but he chose to ignore it, hoping he was wrong.

  “And what do you propose to do to rectify having dishonored this young woman?” Blane asked, clearly speaking in his capacity as Laird of the MacKiernan rather than concerned older cousin.

  “Dishonored?” This was not a conversation he had any desire to pursue.

  “Aye,” his cousin answered. “You’ve taken the lass to yer bed, with full knowledge of yer entire clan. She is a lady, without protection of kith or kin. If she’s unable to return to her own home, what will you do to make this right for her?”

  “What would you have of me?” Surely his cousin couldn’t be suggesting a marriage. The fate of two of their clansmen, as well as the whole of their king’s army, hung in the balance and these people were fashing themselves over the reputation of one woman?

  “I would have you do the right thing, Cousin. I would have you wed this Abby of yers.”

  “Hold on a minute. Let’s not anybody get carried away here.”

  Somewhere during the back-and-forth with his family, he’d missed Abby’s entrance. She stood behind him with Caden’s wife, Ellie, who even now pulled out the chair next to him for Abby to sit.

  Abby seated herself and clasped her hands in front of her before looking up with what could only be irritation on her lovely face. “Pardon me for jumping in, but I must have misunderstood what I just heard. Colin and I aren’t getting married. I am not marrying him, he’s not marrying me. There’s no marrying of any sort going to happen. Just so we all get that straight. I’m only here for a little while.”

  “Thank the Fates someone here has some sense,” Colin muttered, ignoring the twinge of uncomfortable emotion her immediate rejection of him brought with it. Ridiculous, that. He felt exactly the same way she did. “On the morrow I leave for Methven. Once I’ve found—”

  “Excuse me,” Abby interrupted, laying a hand on his forearm. “You meant to say we’re leaving for Methven, right? Because you’re not going anywhere without me.”

  “I go to save the lives of my clansmen. I go to warn my king of the treachery awaiting him.” Surely she could see the higher cause here. “It’s no a place for a lass such as yerself.”

  “Yeah. See, that’s not going to work for me.” Abby paused as the serving girl set a trencher between them. “It appears that the only way I can get home is with your assistance. So, whither thou goest, and all that stuff.”

  Perhaps he’d credited the woman with good sense far too quickly.

  “You canna mean to accompany me on this journey, Abby. I head toward battle, my purpose too important to risk on having to fash myself over yer safety. I ken you have no experience with the ways of our world, but I assure you, where I go is no a place for a woman such as yerself.”

  An uncharacteristic silence filled the room as his entire family watched and waited for Abby’s response.

  “You said you were going to save people, not to fight them.” Abby shook her head stubbornly, picking at the meat in front of them. “I may not have actual experience in your world, Colin, but I’m not ignorant of its ways. I’m not waiting here while you traipse off and get yourself killed leaving me trapped here in this time. You aren’t going anywhere without me. Where you go, I go. Simple as that.”

  This was not a disagreement he relished having under the avid view of his family, but he would not back down. As far as he was concerned, there was nothing left to discuss. “Yer staying here and that’s my final word on the matter. It’s as simple as that.” He could have sworn he heard his brother chuckle behind him.

  “Oh, really?” She turned to meet his gaze, her eyes narrowing. “Well how about this for simple?” She leaned in close, lowering her voice and forcing him to lean toward her. “How about I just wish us both back to my time right now? How about that? If my wishes are so damn powerful and you’re so damn set on saving these friends of yours, then I’d strongly recommend you reconsider taking me with you or the only place you’re going is the twenty-first century.”

  “You canna mean that. My clansmen face death if I’m no allowed to go to them. My king faces defeat.” Aloud, he denied her threat, but from her expression, he feared she meant every word she uttered. “You wouldna do such as that.”

  “No? Try me.”

  Colin sat back in his chair, waiting for a wave of anger and frustration to pass over him. If anyone was trapped anywhere, it was him. He couldn’t risk being tossed back through time. Not before he’d had a chance to warn his king of what was to come.

  “I’ve changed my mind,” he announced in a loud voice. “When I leave on the morrow for Methven, Abby will accompany me.”

  “Damn straight,” she murmured beside him.

  “As yer laird, I canna allow that.” Blane spoke up for the first time. “As yer own mother has just reminded me, an unmarried lass canna travel unaccompanied with a man who is not of her family. It’s no a proper thing to do and we’ve none to spare to send along with the two of you.”

  “I’m not the least bit concerned with what’s proper,” Abby rejected.

  “But we are,” Rosalyn added from her spot at Colin’s elbow. “Now, if you were to wed, there would be no cause for concern.”

  Colin jerked his head around to glare at his mother. What was wrong with the woman, sitting there smiling like some brainsick banshee? Was it not bad enough he was being forced to drag Abby into danger? His mother of all people should be using her considerable intelligence and charm to convince Abby to stay at Dun Ard. He opened his mouth to remind her of that very fact but Abby’s next words interrupted his protestations.

  “Marriage has nothing to with any of this. It isn’t even a consideration.”

  Perhaps his mother was doing exactly that. This could be the escape route he’d earlier thought cut off from him! Abby had made it clear from the beginning of this conversation that she had no desire to wed him. All he needed do was to join ranks with his family, insist on marriage as a precursor to her accompanying him, and he was free to leave Dun Ard without her.

  “I fear my hands are tied, Abby.” Colin reached for the tankard in front of him, relaxing back into his seat for the first time since he’d entered the room. “It’s my laird’s decree and I must obey. In order for you to accompany me, we must wed. But it’s clear that’s an option you reject. As it stands, through no fault of my own, you’ll need to remain here. I’ve no choice in the matter. Without a marriage, I’m no free to take you with me.”

  Colin drank deeply of the dark, spicy wine. With all this nonsense of Abby’s insistence on accompanying him out of the way, he could relax and enjoy his evening with his family.

  “Like marriage makes any more sense to you than it does to me? That’s ridiculous.” Abby lifted her cup but immediately set it back down again, untouched. “You’re only grabbing onto that excuse because you know there’s no way we have time to marry before you go. You’re determined to head out first thing in the morning and that doesn’t leave any time for a wedding.”

  “That’s not exactly true,” Ellie piped up. “A formal church wedding would take longer, true, but technically, all you have to do is declare your intent to be husband and wife in the present tense in front of witnesses and that’s it, you’re married. It’s not like back in your—” She bit off the rest of what she was about to say, glancing around the room guiltily. “It’s not like where you come from.”

  Colin glared at his sister-in-law. The woman had the uncanny ability to endlessly irritate him.

  Abby tapped her fingernails rapidly ag
ainst the wood of the table before lifting her head to glare at him. “You are not leaving me behind when you ride out of here tomorrow. So, if that’s what it takes, fine. It’s not like it means anything, anyway, right? What do I care?” Abby pushed back her chair, rose to her feet, and called out in a loud, clear voice, “I, Abigail Gwendolyn Porter, take this man, Colin MacAlister, as my husband. Right here, right now, right in front of all of you guys as our witnesses. Your turn.”

  The shock of her words sent wine surging upward rather than down his throat, burning the sensitive pathway into his nose and forcing him into a fit of coughing.

  The woman was absolutely without sense of any kind.

  “By the Fates! What do you think yer doing?” he at last managed to ask when he’d caught his breath.

  “Getting married so I can go with you. Your turn. Go ahead. Do your little speech thing or I do my little wish thing.”

  She was serious. The witless woman was absolutely serious. Rather than saving himself with his earlier comments, he’d trapped himself like a greedy fish in a net. Any refusal on his part, especially after that earlier performance with which he’d been so pleased, would bring down the wrath of his entire family and likely send him reeling back through time.

  “If I do this, do I have yer oath no to wish us back before I’ve done what I need to do here?”

  Her lips pressed together in a thin, straight line, even as her eyes narrowed. “Yes. I promise.”

  There was only one thing he could do now.

  “I take this woman to be my wife.”

  “As,” Ellie corrected, a grin splitting her face as she looked from him to her husband, Caden, and back again. “As my wife. To be is future tense and doesn’t work for this.”

  “I take this woman as my wife,” he corrected, fighting the urge to grind his teeth.

  Clearly, none of the women in this family had the good sense they were born with.

  “It is done,” Blane announced, pushing back his own chair and lifting his tankard. “To our kinsman’s marriage. To the new husband and wife.”

 

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