Chapter Nine
Kris had no desire to turn around and see the look of pure anger she sensed emanating from Iain. His eyes bore into her back. Eyes closed, she prayed for a quick death.
"Bring her back into the chamber," Iain managed between clenched teeth. His temper, when crossed, could be almost uncontrollable. At the moment, he held it in check, but 'twas on a very thin tether indeed.
"Will ye be needin' anything else then, laird?"
"Nay, Brian. I believe I can manage well enough now." Iain nodded to Brian as he set the lass on her feet near the fire.
With a slight bow, Brian exited the chamber. Iain eyed Kristianna warily. A brow rose at her stiff stance. Aye, she might be afeared of him, but she would ne'er let it show. She had courage and spirit, he'd give her that. He noted the tilt of her chin as she squared her shoulders. She looked prepared for battle.
"Will ye sit?" He gestured to a chair.
"No, thank you, I think I'll stand if it's all the same to you."
Iain shrugged and took his own seat. "Shall we talk, lass?" He might look as if he were relaxed, but every muscle was ready should the lass decide to attack again. He would not be taken unaware this time.
"I have no idea what you want to talk about. I want to go home, and you won't let me. You don't even believe I'm telling you the truth on the matter."
Iain raised a brow at her. "If what ye say is in truth, then how can ye get home? If ye are truly from the future, and ye have no idea of how ye came to be here, how can ye return?"
"It is the truth. I don't know how to get home from here. I just know I have to try. There has to be a way."
"Why? What is so important that ye must return for?"
"You wouldn't understand, nor would it be likely that you'd believe me." She furrowed her brow at him. "Why would you want to keep me here, anyway? You don't trust me. From all I've seen, you don't even like me, so why won't you let me try to go home?"
Iain couldn't answer that question either. The portrait he'd seen of her and the man standing next to her popped into his mind without warning. Was he her husband or her betrothed husband? Is that why she was so anxious to return home? He shoved those thoughts aside.
"Try to explain it to me, lass."
Kris sighed. "Why should I bother? I've already explained it to you. I can't stay stuck here," she swept her hand around, gesturing the room, "in this crumbling down, medieval castle. I have responsibilities, people who depend on me and need me."
"Are ye certain 'tis nay the Campbell laird who needs ye?" He ignored her slur against his keep being crumbled down.
"Oooh." Kris stomped her foot in frustration. "You're impossible, do you know that? I've never met a more irritating, stubborn man in all my life." Kris threw her hands up in the air in disgust, her fingers literally itching to throw something at his head. Maybe a good whack upside the skull with something of substantial weight would make him more amenable to listening to her and believing what she said.
"If I still had my backpack with me, I'd sure as heck show you all the evidence you needed to see. Although with your suspicious mind, you'd probably have me burned at the stake for being a witch, thinking I conjured the stuff up."
Iain blinked several times at the despair that showed clearly in her eyes. "I know not what this 'backpack' ye speak of is." Was it mayhap the odd-looking pouch he had in his room?
Aye, he decided, it could quite possibly be that of which she spoke. He'd ne'er know unless he got the other part of it open, and even then, he wouldn't know what to look for.
He still had no idea what he was looking for, nor what any of those other things that he'd already discovered were. They were passing odd, but he could decipher none of their uses. He still couldn't even figure out how the infernal thing opened. Several times he'd almost taken his blade to it, but something made him hesitate.
He realized if he gave it back to her, she could mayhap show him the uses of the items. He also realized that if he gave it back to her, there might be something inside it that would help her return home. He could then be rid of this unwanted complication that had appeared from nowhere to disorder his life. But now, part of him wasn't quite sure if he wanted that complication gone.
He watched her pace the room in her agitation. Her bare feet peeked out from under the long robe as she walked, her hair, now nearly dry, hung in soft waves down her back. The sash of her robe defined a small waist that led to temptingly rounded hips. There was both delicacy and strength in her face. Something about her made him want to comfort and protect her. He also wanted to grab her and kiss her senseless, among other things.
He shook his head to clear it of such foolish notions.
She'd dared to strike him, something few others had ever tried let alone succeeded. Aye, she had a fire in her, a strength he'd seen in few other women. His màthair had it, before she'd lost so much. Oh, it was still there, to be sure, it was simply hard to see beneath the sadness that clung to her like a cloak. Kristianna looked delicate, fragile even, but she had a steely determination and strength of character he couldn't help but admire. Not that he'd ever admit the like out loud, of course.
He made the mistake of gazing into her eyes. They sparkled with unshed tears, but she did not flinch or look away from him. He sensed her feeling of helplessness, could see her hopelessness in those unwavering blue-green eyes. He ran a hand through his hair and rose from his chair.
"Wait," Kris put a hand on his arm, "where are you going."
"I shall return, lass." Her touch was like lightening, sending a jolt through his entire body. He looked at her, and reached out too lightly finger a loose tendril of hair. Aye, it was as soft as he'd imagined it would be. He touched a finger to her trembling lips. "I must needs see to a few things, but I shall return soon. Then we shall talk some more." He guided her gently to the chair he'd just vacated.
With a sigh, Kris sat and watched him leave. She listened carefully, but heard nothing after the door closed. She cautiously went to the door and turned the knob, thankful when it opened with no resistance.
She had to get home. And the only way she could think of to do that was to get out of this castle and return to the woods. Hailey would be frantic. She had to realize by now that Kris was nowhere to be found. At least not in the twenty-first century. She could just imagine what her brothers and sister were going through. It had been three days now. Hailey must have called them and let them know that their sister had vanished without a trace. With a groan, she moved to the bed and sank down.
Iain thinking she was a spy did nothing to help her situation. And if she had any proof to show him, he'd probably think her a witch. She knew what they did to witches in the seventeenth century, or at least she thought she knew, and it wasn't pretty. Icy fear twisted around her heart. Somehow, she had to convince Iain that she really was from the future and needed to get back. There must be some way to prove it. Maybe Sorcha could help. At least she believed what Kris told her.
* * *
"'Tis sorry I am that it took so long, lass." Kris jumped almost a foot when Elsbeth breezed back into the room. "But I think I have found ye something that will be to your liking." Her arms were laden with what looked like yards of cloth. "Well, come on then, let me help ye."
Kris fingered the soft plaid Elsbeth laid on the bed. MacGregor plaid. There was also a belt and shoes that she sincerely hoped fit her feet.
"Come lass, off with the chamber robe. Let's get ye dressed afore ye catch a chill."
Kris nodded and shed the robe. First came the soft linen chemise, then the gown. Kris chuckled when she got helplessly lost in the many yards of fabric as she searched through a sea of green for the armholes. Elsbeth helped her pull the gown over her head and buttoned the numerous tiny buttons in the back. Next came the plaid. Elsbeth wrapped it around her waist, then brought part of it up over her shoulder and pinned it in place with a large brooch. Kris noticed that the pin was the MacGregor crest. Finally, she slipped on th
e soft leather slippers. Thankfully, they fit, her feet being the only part of her that could be called large.
"Come, sit ye down, lass and let me attend to your hair."
Kris sat obediently, her back to Elsie. Her hair was mostly dry now from standing in front of the fire. Elsbeth brushed it free of tangles, braided it and tied the end with a length of MacGregor colors.
"There," she said, patting a stray strand of hair back into place, "ye are now quite presentable, Lady Kristianna." She smiled.
Kris stood, her gaze on the door while Elsbeth put things back into their proper place. The gowns went back into the wardrobe, the corset Kris refused to wear back in the drawer along with the chemises that hadn't fit.
"I shall return shortly with some lads to take care of that tub, my lady, and some food for ye to eat." Elsbeth breezed out of the room as quickly as she'd come in.
Kris looked down at the gown Elsbeth picked for her to wear. "Humph. All dressed up and no place to go." She felt sort of like Cinderella, except no Prince Charming awaited her.
No, she'd been stuck with a toad and not even a kiss would turn him into a prince. Not that Iain wasn't handsome. He was. Handsome, sexy even, in that dark, dangerous sort of way that any sane woman would avoid at all costs. But he could certainly use some lessons in people skills.
She paced the room, feeling more frustrated as the time crept slowly by. She stared into the fire for a few moments then looked around the room. She needed a distraction, something to do before she went stir crazy from boredom. She wasn't used to being so idle. Inactivity was not in her vocabulary. Her life for the past few years between school, her job and homework had been full and active with not much opportunity for any downtime.
She strode from the fireplace to the door and back again, twice. The second time, she put her hand on the knob. Just as she opened the door a crack, Elsbeth was there again, her arms holding a heavy tray laden with enough food to fill up even Kris' brothers. And they were known for their prodigious appetites.
"Thank ye, lass. Ye had perfect timing. I dinnae have any idea how I was going to manage opening the door wi' this heavy tray." She smiled at Kris, who glanced at the food in dismay.
"I hope you don't expect me to eat all that food." She laughed, "There's no way I'll be able to eat even a quarter of it."
"Nay, lass." Elsbeth's face creased into a wide smile. "The laird said to inform ye that he will be joining ye for the meal." She shook her head, "why he dinnae just ha'e ye come to the hall I dinnae know, but there ye have it."
Kris was too surprise to do more than nod. She watched in silence as Elsbeth moved the small table over near the fire, set up the chairs and proceeded to lay out the food. There was bread and cheese, along with some kind of pastries, fruit, and vegetables in what looked like a white sauce, fish, and lamb, as well as a large slab of ham. She also put two bottles on the table, one looked like a red wine the other was probably ale.
Kris decided she needed something stronger if she was to survive dinner with Iain. "Elsbeth, do you think you could possibly get me some whiskey?"
"I beg your pardon, lass," Elsbeth's head shot up, a look of utter disbelief on her face. "I dinnae think I heard ye aright."
"I think you did." Kris searched her mind for the proper word. "I'd like some usquebaugh, please."
"Lass, 'tis dangerous stuff ye ask for."
"Do you have any?"
Elsbeth nodded hesitantly, "Aye, the laird keeps some in his private room, but he ne'er drinks the stuff. 'Tis used mainly for a pain killer by our healer."
"Would you get me some? Please?" When Elsbeth continued to hesitate, she added, "I have a terrible headache. I just want to try to get rid of it so I can eat and enjoy my food."
Elsbeth looked skeptical, but finally agreed to get the whiskey for her. Kris sighed as she watched her scurry from the room. She returned moments later with a dark bottle and handed it to Kris.
"If ye are certain ye want this." She said, not taking her hand from it.
Kris nodded enthusiastically. "Oh, trust me, I do." When Elsbeth still didn't release the bottle, Kris said, "I promise I'll be careful. I just want to get rid of this nagging headache. I've had it for three days now and not even sleep is helping it."
With a resigned shrug, Elsbeth reluctantly released the bottle. Kris hurried over to the table and picked up a glass. She poured a small amount into the cup, sniffed, and took a small sip. It burned all the way down, bringing tears to her eyes. She quickly popped a piece of cheese into her mouth and sighed with pleasure as the fiery liquid warmed her insides.
"Ahh, that's better." She laughed at Elsbeth's startled expression. "Don't worry, I'll go easy on it." She downed the rest of the cup like an expert, then refilled her goblet.
Elsbeth stared at her in astonishment, but Kris ignored her. "I'll just return it to the laird's solar now, my lady." She grabbed the bottle out of Kris' hands before Kris had the foresight to stop her.
Kris waved her away. That was fine with her. She didn't need anymore. The wine would suit her just fine now. As long as nobody had watered it down. She furrowed her brow, her thoughts becoming a bit fuzzy, but there was a nice, relaxed feeling happening in her head and body and she just didn't care anymore. She was suddenly very happy and carefree. So she was stuck in the seventeenth century. She could deal with that, especially now. At this moment, she could deal with just about anything.
She heard Elsbeth tsk on her way out the door, but ignored it. She was fine, everything was just fine. She didn't have a care in the world anymore. She downed the second glass and tried to pour some wine into her cup, but had to use both hands to keep the bottle steady. She spilled some on the table and swore. What a waste, she thought in dismay. She shrugged and pulled one of the chairs beneath her backside. Her legs were a tad wobbly, so she might as well sit.
She looked at the door, then at the food that covered the table. She grabbed a plate and filled it with a little of everything. Iain might not care if he ate cold food, but she did. Besides, she was suddenly very hungry. She probably should have eaten something before taking that first drink, but that didn't matter now either.
She put a slice of cheese on a still warm piece of bread, added some of the glazed ham and had just taken a large bite when the door to her room opened again. Kris whirled around to see who it was. As she did, the bread let go of its tenuous hold of the ham, which slipped away from her sandwich to hang down her chin. The glaze dripped down her jaw, leaving small stains on her gown.
She looked at Iain in dismay. Tears formed in her eyes when she realized her dress would probably be forever ruined. She gingerly took the ham out of her mouth with two fingers and placed it on the plate in front of her, careful not to let anymore drip on her dress. She swiped at the spots with a napkin, but that only served to spread the mess.
With a frown, she determined she would not cry over spilt milk, or glaze, as it were. And she would definitely not cry in front of Iain anymore either. She squared her shoulders and took another swallow of the sweet wine before she set her cup very deliberately back on the table, not wishing to miss the table and have the cup in her lap. Her hands seemed to have a mind of their own and didn't appear very steady.
A glance over her shoulder told her Iain still stood there. Heat singed her cheeks, but she shrugged off any embarrassment and reached for her goblet again.
"I wass hungry and didn't know when you get here, sho I shtarted without you." Kris mumbled.
"What was that, lass?" Iain tried not to chuckle. How much had she had to drink? He shrugged, it was evidently enough to make her more than a bit drunk. If her reaction to that piece of ham hanging from her mouth hadn't given him proof of that, her attempt at speech confirmed it.
Kris waved to the food in front of her, even as she continued to chew. "I wassss hungry," she managed to slur around a mouthful of food.
Iain made his way to the table and sat down opposite her. "So it would seem." He watched her reach f
or her goblet again. "How much ha'e ye had to drink, Kristianna?"
"Krisssh," she slurred.
"Pardon?"
"You can call me Krish." She waved her hand almost knocking over her goblet, then moistened her suddenly dry mouth, pursed her lips and tried again, "I mean Krisss." She crossed her eyes as if by doing so she could see her mouth. "Whachever. You know what I say."
"Well then, Kris," Iain nodded, though he couldn't help a chuckle this time, "how much wine ha'e ye drunk?"
Kris shrugged. "Don't think isss the wine. Might be the whishkey I drunk. Drank?" She shook her head. "Drunk." She nodded in the affirmative and reached for her cup.
"Dinnae ye think ye've indulged enough?"
"Not. Even. Close," she insisted, carefully enunciating each word before taking another swallow. She pushed her plate away from her and settled back in her chair with her goblet held tightly in both hands.
"Finished?"
She nodded. "Yes. It was delissh…" she hiccupped, "too."
"I am pleased ye enjoyed it." Iain helped himself to some of the lamb. "Tell me about yourself, lass." He prodded as he enjoyed his meal.
Kris looked up, stunned. "What would you like to know?"
"Tell me something of your life in this future. What did ye do? How did ye spend your days? Do ye ha'e family?"
She nodded.
"I dinnae wish to distress ye." Iain said softly, noting the sadness that crossed her face at the mention of her family.
"S'okay." Kris waved his concern away.
"If ye would rather not speak of it…" he let the words hang in the air.
After a long moment, Kris shook her head and raised her eyes to his.
The look she gave him made him very happy he had a chair beneath his backside. How a lass could look so heart wrenching and at the same time smile at him, he'd never understand. He found he had to fight to keep himself seated for if he didn't he realized he would draw her into his arms and try to kiss away that sorrow in her eyes.
"S'alright. Maybe if I tell you something of my life, of my world," she hiccupped again, but continued, "it will help convince you I'm telling the truth."
Timeless Mist Page 12
