Relief swelled within Artair and his tension ebbed. Drostan’s honor had been one of the main reasons he’d wanted to marry into his family, his clan. He reminded him of his own father’s sense of honor, though Drostan wasn’t as closed off as his father had been.
“I thank ye,” Keagan spoke up. “Laird MacGreghor, for ye tae help people ye’re not affiliated with—”
But Drostan interrupted him with a wave of his hand. “Yer brother-in-law remains my ally, and he's a good man. ’Tis why I was going tae marry him tae my daughter, till this imposter came along and stole her heart,” he said, giving Niall a teasing smile.
Niall returned his smile, holding his hands up in a mock gesture of guilt.
“I can get fifty tae one hundred men willing tae fight at a moment’s notice—perhaps more,” Drostan continued, his expression turning serious. “Do ye have men of yer own?”
“I plan tae return tae my manor tomorrow and ask the local men who are willing tae fight tae join me,” he said. “Ye should ken—Tamhas may seek men from rival clans tae help.”
Drostan’s smile was dangerous.
“Then that will give my men even more motivation tae fight. What is yer plan for battle?”
“I want tae lure Tamhas tae my manor,” Artair said. “’Tis better if I choose the place where we fight.”
“That’s wise,” Drostan agreed. “I’ll send out messengers far and wide tae other clans—foe and ally alike—alerting them that ye’ve returned tae yer manor. If Tamhas is in the Highlands, he’ll soon ken of yer whereabouts. Ye can have the men willing tae fight set up camp on the lands around yer manor. They’ll be ready for an attack.”
The castle’s steward entered with a records book, and Drostan gave them an apologetic smile.
“A laird’s duty is never done,” he said. “I’ll see ye all at supper.”
“I’m going tae tell Liosa we have Laird MacGreghor on our side,” Keagan said, as they left Drostan’s study, hurrying down the corridor and leaving Niall and Artair alone.
Artair gave Niall a sidelong glance as they walked. It was odd to look at the man. Though there were subtle differences between them, looking at him was like gazing into a mirror.
“I know,” Niall said, meeting his gaze with a wry smile as if reading Artair’s thoughts. “It’s strange to me as well.”
Artair stopped, studying him with curiosity.
“Ye said we’re kin?”
“Yes. I did some digging, and we’re related through a distant cousin on your father’s side,” Niall said. He paused, looking around at the servants who passed, many of whom looked at them with open curiosity. He gestured for Artair to follow him into an empty chamber.
“You should know—I never intended to pose as you. As soon as I arrived here, people just assumed I was you. I was so desperate to help Caitria that I went along with it.”
“I bear ye no ill will,” Artair said. “What danger was Caitria in?”
Artair listened as Niall told him how a clan noble, Ferghas, had killed Caitria’s brother and nearly killed Drostan had he not stopped him.
“I kent Ferghas, and I never trusted him,” Artair grumbled. “I’m glad ye stopped the bastard.”
“As am I,” Niall said. “If I hadn’t come to this time . . . ”
His eyes darkened, and he shook his head as if shaking the thought away before continuing. “It sounds like you’ve also had an adventure. I’ve heard much about stiuireadh—but I’ve never met one. I assumed there would be something . . . otherworldly about them. Diana seems like a normal woman—a very beautiful one, but—”
Artair didn’t realize that his eyes had darkened at the compliment until Niall held up his hands with a chuckle.
“It was just a compliment. I’m happily married, remember?”
Artair gave him a gruff nod. Niall studied him for a long moment before his face broke out in a smile.
“Maybe it’s because we share a likeness—but I know that look. You’re in love with Diana, aren’t you?” he asked.
Artair opened his mouth to deny this, but the words wouldn’t come. He stilled, his heart picking up its pace as the realization struck him.
He loved Diana. How could he have been foolish enough to not realize the depth of his feelings for his golden witch? Had he not craved her since he’d first met her—her kindness, her power, her beauty? Would he not burn the world down to protect her? Did the thought of her returning to her own time not cause his heart to splinter? Had she not consumed his thoughts every day and every night?
Now he realized that he'd avoided love for his entire life after watching his father's emotional withdrawal after his mother's death. His father had been a jovial, well-liked man until she died—her death had destroyed him. When Artair took on the lairdship, he didn't want to risk that same vulnerability, that same weakness. That was why he'd been content with marrying Caitria—while he cared for her, he didn't love or desire her.
But he did love Diana. He loved her to the marrow of his bones. And it took his look-alike, time-traveling relative to tell him what he already knew in his heart.
His emotions must have played out on his face, because Niall gave him an empathetic smile.
“Because we’re family, I feel like I have the right to say this,” Niall said. “But don’t hide your love for her. I still regret waiting to tell Caitria I loved her until I was nearly exiled. I should have told her the moment I realized it. Our type of love—love that’s transcended time? It should never be hidden.”
* * *
Diana was as quiet as he was at supper in the great hall that evening, her gaze trained on her meal of roasted lamb and vegetables. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, a tumult of emotions swirling through him, Niall’s words echoing in his mind. Our type of love—love that’s transcended time? It should never be hidden.
How could he tell her how he felt? How could he burden her with the depth of his emotions when she didn’t belong in this time? He knew she cared for him—she’d saved his life after all—and she desired him. But to love him, to love him enough to leave her life in the future behind and remain in this time with him, a time fraught with danger? How could he ask that of her, even though it was what he wanted, more than he’d ever wanted anything.
Even with his storm of conflicting emotions, he tried to keep a jovial smile pinned to his face. The other guests in the great hall kept casting glances his way. Word had spread that he’d returned, and the other guests in the hall were looking for signs of jealousy or anger from him over Niall and Caitria’s marriage.
He sat at a table with Niall, Caitria, Liosa and Keagan, all of whom were engaged in animated chatter compared to Diana and Artair’s relative silence. At times, he felt their curious gazes on him and Diana, yet they didn’t press them to join their discussion.
When Niall and Caitria got up from the table to mingle with the other guests, Liosa turned to Artair and Diana. She shared a look with Keagan, who gave her a subtle nod.
“What is it?” Artair asked, his back stiffening with alarm.
“Always prepared for the worst, brother,” Liosa said with a teasing smile. “There’s nothing tae worry yerself over. ’Tis happy news." She paused, expelling a breath, her smile widening. She looked as if she was about to burst with joy. "I’m with child. ’Tis early days yet, but I’ve missed my bleeding and the castle healer confirmed it.”
“Liosa,” he whispered. He reached across the table to grip her hand, tears stinging his eyes. His sister was loving and fiercely protective; she would make a wonderful mother. But he couldn't find the words to express his happiness for her.
“I ken, brother,” Liosa said, blinking back tears of her own. “I ken.”
“Liosa,” Diana murmured, beaming. “I’m so happy for you.”
“Thank ye, sister,” Liosa said. She froze as she realized what she’d said. “I’m sorry, I—”
“It’s fine,” Diana interjected. "We’ve spent so much ti
me together since Dumfries it does feel like we’re sisters.”
Artair’s heart clenched; he desperately wanted Liosa’s words to be true. Diana as a part of his family, his life. His love.
The musicians began to play, and Keagan stood with a laugh, smiling down at his wife.
“Let’s celebrate with a dance.”
Liosa took his hand with a grin. Artair turned to ask Diana to dance as well, but she was already getting to her feet.
“Excuse me,” she whispered.
He stilled, noticing that her eyes were wet with tears. She hurried away before he could question her.
He got to his feet and followed her, not caring about the whispers and curious looks of the other guests. He trailed her as she rushed down the corridor and out to the courtyard.
“Diana?" he asked, when they were alone.
She turned to face him, her face awash with tears.
“I can’t do this,” she whispered.
He froze, hot panic searing his chest as his face drained of color.
“What?”
“How long until you have the men you need to fight Tamhas?” she asked.
“I donnae understand why ye’re—”
“How long?” she repeated, her voice trembling.
“Drostan’s men are going tae gather at my manor within the next two days tae make camp. If Tamhas doesnae show in a fortnight, we plan tae go south tae take the fight tae him.”
Diana nodded, looking away from him.
“Why do ye want tae ken?” he asked. “Diana, please. What’s wrong?”
“A fortnight. I can do that,” she said, ignoring his question as she thought out loud. “After a fortnight, I’ll return to my own time. My magic is stronger now, I don’t think I need to go back to Tairseach to travel, so I can just perform a spell. You have the MacGreghor clan to help you now. It’s not as important that I stay.”
“Ye—ye said ye wanted tae help,” he said, trying to speak past the pain that twisted his heart.
“I will help,” she whispered. “As much as I can, but if the fight isn’t over in a fortnight, I’m going to return to my own time. I don’t belong here, Artair. It’s—it’s time for me to go home.”
Chapter 24
When Diana hurried to her chamber after leaving Artair, she wiped away her tears, embarrassment rushing through her over her near breakdown.
For the entire day, conflicting emotions had torn through her over her love for him and returning to the future. When Liosa accidentally called her her sister, it was as if a dam had burst inside her as she realized how desperately she wanted that to be true. She wanted to be a part of Artair’s life as his wife, and Liosa’s sister-in-law. The brief surge of joy that filled her at the thought had taken her by surprise—she knew she couldn’t remain stoic.
She hadn’t expected Artair to follow her out of the hall, and she tried not to think about the pain on his face when she told him it was time to go home. She’d wanted him to tell her to stay, that he loved her, but he’d only stared at her in frozen silence.
It is time for you to go home, she told herself. You’ve done what you’ve said you would do. Artair had help from Drostan MacGreghor, and soon he would have the help of his own men. If Tamhas arrived within the next couple of weeks, she would do whatever she could to help fight. But then she would leave—she had to. The longer she remained here with Artair, the harder it would be for her when she returned.
She barely slept that night, her mind consumed with images of Artair’s pained face and her longing for him. After she awoke, she was still groggy as she washed and changed into another one of Liosa’s borrowed gowns.
She avoided looking at Artair as they bid their farewells to Caitria, Niall and Laird and Lady MacGreghor. Due to her pregnancy, Liosa was going to linger behind at the castle until the conflict with Tamhas was resolved.
Liosa embraced her for a long time, pulling back to murmur in her ear, “Tell my brother how ye feel.”
Diana stiffened as she met Liosa’s eyes. But she shouldn’t have been surprised that Liosa knew how she felt about Artair—she had proven to be perceptive.
Liosa just gave her a kind smile and turned to embrace Keagan farewell.
She considered Liosa’s advice as she, Artair and Keagan rode to his manor, which wasn’t far from the castle.
I can’t tell him how I feel, she decided. He doesn’t feel the same, and I already told him I have to go home. It was best that she set aside her feelings for the remainder of her time here, as difficult as that would be.
When they approached his sprawling gray stone manor, she saw that a line of his servants stood outside, waiting for him with wide smiles.
Standing in the center of them was a tall, handsome man with dark hair and whiskey-colored eyes, stark relief and joy on his face as he took in Artair. She assumed this was Latharn, Artair’s loyal servant who’d led the search for him.
As Diana studied him, something seemed familiar about him, though she was certain she’d never seen him before.
“Artair,” Latharn said, striding forward to clamp his hand on his shoulder when they’d all dismounted. “I’m glad tae see ye.”
“As am I,” Artair replied, giving him a wide smile in return. “I’m sorry tae have caused ye worry—and I thank ye for searching for me.”
“We’re just glad ye’re home and alive,” Latharn said.
Artair briefly introduced Keagan and Diana to Latharn before stepping forward to greet and embrace each of his servants. He greeted each servant by name, and they seemed genuinely delighted to see him. She even saw several maids’ eyes brim with tears. Artair must have been a kind and generous laird. It made her love him even more.
Artair had a maid lead her to her guest chamber while he, Keagan and Latharn left to talk to the locals about fighting Tamhas.
She decided to turn her thoughts away from Artair by practicing several defensive spells and mentally reviewing the spell she’d need to perform to get her back to her time. For this spell, she’d need a focal point from her time, something that would draw her to it. She tried to focus on aspects of her life in the present that she enjoyed—the manor she was restoring in the Highlands. Her reliable job. Her comfortable London flat. Her aunts—both Kensa and Maggie.
Again, none of these tugged on her heart or filled her with longing. Instead, her mind kept conjuring images of the year she was in—bustling medieval villages and cities. Sunlit-dappled groves and lochs. Expansive glens covered with winter frost. Liosa and Keagan’s laughter.
Artair’s handsome face, smiling at her. His husky voice in her ear. My golden witch.
Frustrated, she took a break and explored the manor. It was elegant and refined—dark, hardwood floors, tapestries draped over the walls, burning fireplaces emanating warmth, candlelight casting the rooms in a soft, homey glow. It was her intention to restore the manor in her own time to something like this, a peaceful refuge from the modern world.
Artair and Keagan soon returned, leading her to the drawing room where they informed her they’d found a couple of dozen local men willing to fight. In addition to these men, Drostan’s men would make camp tomorrow in the patch of forest adjacent to his manor.
“Now that Drostan’s messengers have spread word that I’m back, I pray that word has reached—or will shortly reach—Tamhas,” Artair said.
“I can use a Concealing spell to hide the camp away from any who approach your lands. It'll make your manor look as if it’s undefended.”
Artair gave her a brusque nod while Keagan’s eyes went so wide she thought they would pop out of his head.
“I’m sorry,” he said, at her look of amusement. “It’ll take time for me tae get used tae what ye can do.”
“Ye willnae have tae,” Artair replied, not looking at her. “Diana is leaving us in a fortnight.”
Diana’s stomach twisted at the nonchalance in his tone.
“When ’tis time for battle,” Artair continued, stil
l not looking at her, “ye can use yer witchcraft tae defend the manor and the stables. We’ll have tae make certain the servants are all inside.”
“But—I thought I could help you on the field,” Diana said with a frown.
“No. Ye'll use yer witchcraft for defense only. I want this tae be an honest fight. If we rely only on yer magic, we may not be able tae defend ourselves when ye’re gone. And,” he added, his eyes glittering with the promise of violence, “I want tae be the one who kills Tamhas with my own hands.”
He left the drawing room before she could reply. Keagan, who now seemed to sense the distance between them, gave her a sympathetic smile and thanked her before following him out.
She’d hoped to spend alone time with Artair now that they were at his manor, the way they had when they were at Keagan and Liosa’s home, but that evening a maid told her that Artair would dine alone tonight as she brought her meal to her chamber. Diana hid her disappointment behind a polite smile.
Artair’s avoidance continued over the next few days. Artair would eat his meals alone or with Keagan and Latharn, while Diana ate alone in her chamber. The men who were to fight would show up at the manor just after first light, and Artair would spend most of his days with them, preparing for battle.
Diana spent her days working on her spells or taking brief walks around the manor, battling the loneliness and heartache that swelled within her. Keagan would sometimes join her to keep her company, for which she was grateful, but it was Artair’s presence she longed for.
When she did catch glimpses of Artair, he would merely give her a polite nod of acknowledgment. She told herself that his distance was a good thing, that it would prepare her for his absence from her life in the future, but that didn’t stop pain from twisting her heart.
Artair's Temptress: Highlander Fate Book Five Page 14
