Soul of a Highlander

by Melissa Mayhue

  He rolled off her and rose from the bed.

  “Good Lord!” She slapped her hands over her eyes. “You’re naked!”

  “I thought we already established that fact, my sweet. I’m okay with it.”

  “Well I’m not,” she muttered as she heard him rustling around the room, his low chuckle sending a shiver through her whole being. He was an overbearing Neanderthal and he’d called her old in front of her entire family. How could she possibly be this attracted to him? “And I’m no yer sweet anything.”

  The bed dipped next to her, alerting her he had finished whatever he was doing. His hands on hers pulled them from her eyes.

  “Okay, since you don’t want to finish what you started.” He paused. “Do you?” At her emphatic head shake, he grinned. “Then what are you doing in my room at this hour of the night?”

  She sat up, discreetly glancing toward his legs. The rustling had obviously been him putting on his pants. But no shirt. She quickly looked down at her hands. That chest view made it hard to concentrate.

  “We need to find out about someone named Ran. He’s apparently one who knows this Duke Servans. Sallie has mentioned him several times, but I haven’t been able to learn anything about him from her other than that he’s a friend of the family and that he squired here.”

  “Squired here? You mean like an apprenticeship or something?” He leaned back against the head of the bed, swinging his feet into her lap.

  “Something like that,” she answered. One foot moved methodically up and down her thigh, distracting her. “Stop that.”

  “Then tomorrow I’ll ask one of the boys who this bloke is. No problem.”

  The foot in her lap moved again, this time against her stomach. She quickly stood, spilling his feet to the floor.

  “I need some wood.”

  “What?” His strangled question stopped her. She turned as he rose from the bed to stand uncomfortably close to her.

  “Wood. Our fire was almost out and there’s no more in Sallie’s room.”

  “Ah.” He chuckled again and walked to the fireplace, squatting down next to the filled wood basket.

  As he turned, she caught sight of his shoulder, covered in an elaborate tattoo. “What’s that?”

  He glanced down to where she pointed and frowned, turning his shoulder away from her. “Nothing. Come on. Let’s get you back to your room. And, Mairi?”

  Staring at the broad expanse of his back, she almost didn’t respond. “Hmm?”

  “Once you’re in your room, stay there. Wandering around a dark castle in the middle of the night isn’t the sort of thing I want you doing again.”

  She followed him through the door and into the hallway. He thought nothing of ordering her around, but let her ask him a simple question and what happens? It appeared her curiosity would remain unsatisfied for now.

  Just like her body.

  Ten

  That’s no so bad. The bleeding’s almost stopped.” Andrew rocked back on his heels, grinning as Ramos splashed another handful of water over his face. “Caden’s good, aye?”

  Not that good. “Shame he wasn’t good enough to miss me.” Ramos fingered the cut on his cheek. My own damn fault.

  Caden strode into the small room, stopping to stand over Ramos. “I dinna want to miss. Next time we spar, you’ll remember and pay attention to what yer doing.”

  He was right about that, at least.

  After nine months of training with Dallyn’s Elite Guard, the swordplay of Caden MacAlister should have been no challenge to Ramos. But he’d allowed his mind to wander, automatically returning each attack without concentrating. Let his thoughts drift to a woman’s body so tantalizing, just the memory of it filled him with need. Thoughts of soft curves draped in clingy silk that outlined every delicious inch of her. A body that responded to his own with an electric intensity. Mairi’s body.

  That was his first mistake.

  No. Last night was his first mistake.

  Allowing himself to daydream like some lovesick teenage girl was his second. And Caden had simply exacted a punishment for that error in judgment.

  Caden reached down and placed a finger under Ramos’s chin, surveying the damage. “Drew’s right. It’s no so bad. Naught but a scratch to give yer bonny face some much-needed character.”

  Ramos pulled his chin away, splashing water over his face again. It was one thing to be bested in battle, entirely another to be sloppy.

  “Dinna fash yerself, my friend. I’ve no ruined yer pretty visage.” Caden laughed and moved to lean against the wall, stopping to retrieve his shirt and put it on. “Yer good—I’ll give you that, Spaniard. If I dinna know better, I’d say you’ve the soul of a Highlander in you.”

  Ramos relaxed and grinned up at him. “Next time,” he promised.

  “Aye, next time,” his opponent agreed. “Perhaps then you’ll take me seriously enough to keep yer mind with the fight.”

  That he’d been so transparent rankled. He was no amateur, though he’d certainly acted as if he were. “Of that you can be sure.”

  He stood as Colin ran in holding a skin flask he offered to his older brother.

  Caden took a long drink and held it out to Ramos.

  “Wine?” He didn’t think he could stomach another mouthful of the rank spiced mixture, not even for the sake of bonding.

  “No,” Caden scoffed. “This is a man’s drink, no a ladies’ table accompaniment.”

  Ramos accepted the flask, tipping it back for a quick taste. Strong Scots whisky. Quite good. He downed another swallow, feeling the mixture burn pleasantly along his throat.

  Ramos and Caden moved outside the shed, where they sat on benches and leaned against the wall, enjoying the welcome respite after their vigorous work-out in the lists. They passed the flask back and forth in companionable silence.

  “Who is Ran?”

  Caden looked up, suspicion clouding his eyes at the question. “Why do you ask?”

  Ramos shrugged. “Your sister spoke of him to Mairi. I wondered about him is all.”

  “Like as not, if Sallie mentioned his name it came in the same breath as that of the illustrious Duke,” he responded sourly.

  “I take it you’re not as impressed as your brothers with this Servans?”

  Caden glanced over his shoulder, assuring himself his brothers were well occupied in their own round of sword practice before answering quietly.

  “I dinna begrudge him his political beliefs. I dinna even begrudge him the use of Sithean Fardach. But I’m no in favor of his luring our lads off to serve his purposes with fanciful tales of battle and glory. I dinna want to be burying my brothers. War may be coming, but I want no part of it.”

  “Is this Ran one of the young men who follow Servans?”

  “Aye, sadly enough. Ranald MacPherson is like a brother to me. He spent more time here growing up than he did in his own keep.” Caden chuckled and slowly shook his head. “If you’d ever met his family, you’d understand why.”

  MacPherson. As Ramos recalled, Mairi had been rather upset at the mere mention of the name. “I think I may have met this Ran of yours. Mairi and I originally traveled to Sithean Fardach. There was a young man there by that name, along with several others. It’s their horses we, uh, borrowed. Since our own were missing, that is.”

  “Aye, those were MacPherson steeds you rode in on. We sent a messenger letting them know we had them here and would care for them until they came to make claim.”

  “How did your friend come to be mixed up with the Duke?”

  “Ran went to university in Paris for a time.” He shrugged. “His father’s mother, the first wife of Red Dunald, was a French lass, what can I say? Ran met the Duke in Paris. Servans returned to Scotland with him, sending Ran on ahead to Dun Ard to make arrangements for his use of Sithean Fardach.”

  Of one thing Ramos was sure: no Fae ever did anything without a good reason. What could this Servans have learned from the boy that brought him here
? His father’s plan last year to use Sarah Douglas as a means to enter the Realm of Faerie flashed through his mind. Could Servans have heard stories about the MacKiernans’ claim to Faerie ancestors? Could that knowledge be what would lead to Sallie’s death?

  “Your friend Ran sounds like someone I should meet.” And question.

  Caden chuckled. “I hope yer no setting yer mind on him as a husband for yer ward. He’ll have no interest in Cousin Mairi, lovely though she is.”

  As if. “Why would that be?”

  “Ran’s been head over heels for Sallie for as long as I can remember. Follows her about like a motherless puppy. She’d do well to have him, too, but the spoiled tart has airs. Ever since she heard of this Duke’s visit, she seems to think she needs herself a great man for a husband.”

  “She did seem rather insistent about meeting the Duke.” Her scene at dinner came readily to mind.

  Caden made a sound of derision deep in his throat, shaking his head. “She’s insistent on everything she wants. Spoiled her beyond her own good, Blane has. Dinna get me wrong. Cousin Blane has been verra good to us all, taking us in after Father’s death, even naming me his heir. But I fear Sallie’s too much a handful for any good man now. I have my doubts any will want her.”

  “Any except this Ran,” Ramos added distractedly, his attention drawn to a flurry of activity in the far courtyard.

  The large gates were drawn up and a party of riders made their way toward the main building.

  “Aye, except Ran. And even he’s tongue-tied around her as often as not. Speak of the devil. It looks as though yer in luck, Ramos.” Caden slapped him on the back. “There’s Ran and his family arriving now. Let’s go make the introductions.”

  They rose and headed toward the new arrivals.

  A whole family of MacPhersons was here? Something told him Mairi wasn’t going to be very happy about this.

  Mairi had kept to her room for the better part of the morning, hoping to avoid Ramos. She crept quietly down the stairs, stopping at the last turn to peek around the corner, verifying he wasn’t in the entrance hallway.

  She was mortified by her behavior last night. And even more embarrassed to admit that she would do it again in a heartbeat. For some strange reason, though Ramos epitomized everything she found repugnant in men, her traitorous body didn’t seem the least bit repulsed. Quite the contrary.

  They had left his room last night, making their way back down the hall to where Sallie slept. When they reached the door, he’d dumped the wood he carried into her arms. With her hands full, he’d taken the opportunity to kiss her again. His hand at the back of her head, he’d pulled her close. When his lips met hers, she’d been unable to resist returning the kiss. His heated look as he’d left her seared into her memory.

  Thinking about him, about that kiss, she raised a hand to her fiery cheek.

  “And what do you think yer doing?”

  Mairi almost leaped off the stairs at the sound of Sallie’s voice so close behind her.

  “Dinna anyone ever tell you it’s no polite to sneak up on people?” she asked irritably.

  “What about you? It looked to me like you were doing some sneaking of yer own.”

  Mairi had no intention of explaining any of her actions to this girl, and was saved the trouble when several servants ran past them out the main door, distracting Sallie.

  “Och,” the girl breathed, “the guests have started to arrive.” She pushed past Mairi, racing down the remaining steps and out the door onto the great landing.

  Mairi descended the last of the stairs, casting a glance in both directions before stepping into the hallway. Straight ahead was the entry to the Great Hall. To her right was the entrance where, through the open door, she could see Sallie leaning over the railing.

  To her left was the door to Blane’s public solar, the room where he conducted business. At the far end of the hall was the entry to the kitchens, and next to that, looming large and threatening, was another, smaller doorway. One that led down three steps to a dark, windowless storage room.

  If her ghost were to haunt the room where she supposedly died, that would have been the room. Involuntarily she shuddered and, turning her back to that place and those thoughts, she hurried out to the landing to join Sallie.

  Blane and Rosalyn stood at the foot of the great stairs, waiting together to greet their guests. A large man dismounted and approached one of the female riders in the party.

  He looked somehow familiar.

  Mairi leaned over the railing to get a better view.

  “Oh no,” she whispered, her stomach lurching.

  It was the MacPherson from Sithean Fardach. She was positive of it. What was he doing here? Surely they wouldn’t be hosting anyone from the MacPherson clan.

  He smiled up at the woman on the horse, and lifted her to the ground. As he did so, her cloak fell back from her head.

  “Holy Mother of God.” The words escaped Mairi on a breath of panic and her hand flew to her chest.

  “What did you say?” Sallie looked up quizzically as she started down the stairs.

  She was older, of course, her once raven hair liberally streaked with gray, but there was no mistaking the arrogant tilt of her head or the haughty expression on her face.

  Anabella. The hussy who had betrayed Mairi’s brother. The harlot who had married her uncle.

  There was no chance the woman wouldn’t recognize her. They had hated one another with a passion. Mairi had to get out of here. Ramos had been right. It was time to go home.

  She grabbed Sallie’s hand, dragging her back up the two stairs she’d descended. “Come on. Hurry.”

  Where to go? Where to find privacy? The parapet. It was the highest point of the castle and the most secluded.

  Running up the stairs as quickly as she could, she pulled Sallie along.

  “Let go of me! I’ve guests to greet. What’s wrong with you?” The girl tried to pull away, but her petite build was no match for Mairi’s strength and panic.

  Through the last door, Mairi pushed it shut and leaned against it, both she and Sallie gasping for breath.

  “Have you gone completely daft? Move yer great body from the door and let me go.” Sallie again attempted to free her hand from Mairi’s grip, and when she was unsuccessful, she stamped her foot, obviously expecting to get her way.

  Her little cousin had a lot to learn.

  “Return us now,” Mairi whispered. Holding tightly to Sallie’s wrist, she waited for the green sphere and the sparkling lights.

  Nothing.

  The center of her power. She’d forgotten. She placed her free hand over her breast, over the spot where her new birthmark resided.

  “Return us now.” More forcefully this time.

  Nothing.

  No sphere, no lights and, most important, no tingling in her birthmark. It wasn’t working.

  “Now, now,” she cried frantically.

  “Now what, you daft cow?” Sallied pulled at her wrist.

  Nothing.

  “What do you think yer doing?” Sallie’s face was pink with exertion and her eyes flashed with anger.

  Suddenly Mairi knew—knew—it wasn’t going to work. It seemed as though Sallie wasn’t the only one who had a lot to learn.

  She pulled her cousin to the wall to peer over, down into the courtyard. The people looked small from here, but the threat still loomed just as large.

  “Look how pretty it is from up here. I wanted us to view their arrival from this vantage.” It was the lamest excuse on the face of the planet, but the only one she could come up with to explain her behavior.

  Sallie jerked her hand free as Mairi loosened her grip, making a disgusted tsking noise in the process. “I dinna care what Mother says, you are daft.” The girl turned, shaking her head, and left Mairi alone on the high castle walk.

  Mairi leaned against the half wall, sliding down until she sat with a thud. The wind picked up, blowing fine hairs about her face, tickl
ing her skin.

  The magic hadn’t worked. She couldn’t go home.

  Her task to save her cousin apparently wasn’t what kept her here. Her aunt had nailed it. She was here until she accomplished whatever it was the Fae wanted done.

  The problem was, she had no earthly idea what that might be.

  Ramos shielded his eyes as he peered up, searching the outline of the castle parapet. Something was wrong and his instincts told him it concerned Mairi. A flash of color had caught his eye, or perhaps it was only the prickle of his Fae sense.

  She needed him.

  He had never put much thought into the why or how of his Fae gifts, and he didn’t question them now.

  Increasing his speed, he shouldered his way through the collection of people greeting one another at the foot of the stairs. He took the steps two at a time, reaching the door just as Sallie stepped through.

  “Have you seen Mairi?”

  Her scowl gave him the answer. “I’ve just left the daft woman on the parapet. You’d best see to her before she throws herself off.”

  “What?” His stomach knotted at her words. “How do I get there?”

  “All the way to the top of the spiral stairs.”

  He pushed past her and raced up the steps.

  Once through the topmost door into the fresh air, he spotted her immediately. She sat huddled into herself, her knees drawn up, head down resting on them.

  “Mairi?”

  Her head snapped up in response, a myriad of emotions flowing across her features.

  “What’s wrong?” He reached down, pulling her to her feet when she took the hand he offered.

  “There’s someone down there. Someone I have to avoid.” She stopped, her eyes dark and troubled. “What’s happened to your face?” She reached up, her fingers hovering just above the cut on his cheek.

  “Nothing serious. Just a bit of carelessness on my part.” He captured her hand with his own, surprised to feel her trembling in his grip. “I know about the people in the courtyard, but it’s not going to be a problem.” Perhaps she thought this MacPherson person was responsible for what had happened to her, whatever it was that had kept her from returning to her own time.