Stranded By The Highlander: A Scottish Time Travel Romance-Highlander Forever Book 2

by Preston, Rebecca

  “Only on the surface,” Nancy said primly, drawing a laugh from him. She watched him with a beady eye as he turned and walked from the hall, his shoulders hunched and emphasizing his exhaustion. A day of sleep would do him good. Would do all of the men good, honestly, she thought, glancing around the Hall as she finished her breakfast.

  Every soldier she could see looked absolutely exhausted — some were just coming in from their patrols, while others were getting up for the day, but either way, they all looked like they needed to go straight to bed like Brendan. She wished she could do something to spare them. Well, she supposed she could do her part, at least — go and visit Maggie and find out if there were any changes since the night before. Maybe she’d slip into the meeting, too. She’d made a habit of attending them, wanting to keep in the loop as much as possible, but they weren’t particularly useful. Just reports about what had been stolen, and what the patrols had discovered… which was largely nothing at all. But it would be interesting to hear from them tonight, to see if the kerfuffle with the monster last night had had any impact. Maybe Nessie ate all the thieves, she thought hopefully… but somehow, she doubted that very much.

  She took the old chestnut mare out, giving the horse a stroke as she put her bridle into place. It was getting so much easier, especially now she’d figured out the trick to the bridle. The morning was cold, with autumn putting a chill in the air, but there was some weak sunlight that warmed her arms as she rode down the road toward Maggie’s house. She didn’t have lessons with Kaitlyn for a week, so she was free to visit at any time — Kaitlyn had been called upon to help prepare for the harvest, leaving Maggie with more free time.

  “I thought I might see you this morning,” Maggie called from the porch as Nancy rode in, reining her horse to an easy stop.

  The mare was used to this particular visit and headed enthusiastically for a particularly lush patch of grass that she usually nibbled at while Nancy was visiting with Maggie. Nancy gave the animal a pat before turning to Maggie, obeying her impatient gesture to come inside. As usual, it was fiercely warm in the cottage. Maggie was clearly taking no chances with the autumn chill — and fair enough, too. A woman her age — and her stature — couldn’t afford to catch a chill. Did faeries get sick? Even half-Fae creatures like Maggie?

  “How are you, Maggie? Keeping yourself busy without Kaitlyn to tutor?”

  Maggie chuckled, clearing a space by the fire for Nancy to sit. “She’ll be back soon enough. I’ve plenty to keep myself busy. How are you faring, up there in that drafty old castle?”

  “Pretty well. Feel a bit useless with all the thefts going on, though.” She frowned, gesturing helplessly toward the forest. “The patrols are helping a little, but the men are all so exhausted, and any time they let up, there’s more thefts.”

  “And the iron crosses? Kaitlyn told me about those. Very clever,” Maggie said with a sly grin. “Keeping the priest and the more devout among the villagers happy. Whose idea was that?”

  “Mine,” Nancy admitted, pleased at the praise. “But unfortunately it’s only slowed down the process a little… it’s a lot slower to manufacture iron crosses than simple iron bars.”

  Maggie shuddered. “Well, I can’t say I’m a fan of any of it myself, but it works on the Unseelie a treat and that’s what’s important.”

  “Speaking of the Unseelie — there was a big commotion in the Loch last night. I was wondering if you heard anything?”

  “Aye, I heard a great deal of screeching and splashing, and our mutual friend has a full belly for the next week,” Maggie said darkly.

  Nancy’s eyes widened.

  “So there were people in the lake? Or — something?”

  “Aye, there were. Nessie told me all about it. Lots of little figures, was all she could say. Said they smelled of iron but had none on them.”

  “Could that have come from the iron crosses up in the village? Maybe they were trying to retreat back to the Fae world!” Nancy leaned forward, excited by this prospect.

  But Maggie was shaking her head.

  “Nay, these were creatures who’d just come through the burgh. Reinforcements, perhaps, for whatever’s already here. I’m afraid the patrols may not quite cut it any longer, depending on how many of the creatures got through,” Maggie said regretfully. “Nessie ate quite a few, but there were more still that waded ashore… I thought I heard some footsteps by my cabin.”

  “Not good,” Nancy frowned.

  “Aye, not good at all.” Maggie heaved a sigh. “But I’m sure your strapping young lads at the castle will sort something out soon enough. How are you and Malcolm getting on?”

  “Oh, well enough.” She blushed a little, though Maggie’s tone had been innocent as the driven snow. “I rarely see him these days, though. He’s so often on patrol.”

  “Well, he’ll be back at the castle for lunch. See him then. Always good, to have friends.” Her eyes were gleaming. “And maybe more.”

  “Maggie!”

  “An old woman sees these things, that’s all,” Maggie said, waving a hand dismissively. “Certain looks, certain glances, certain pining. Neither of you are especially subtle, my dear.”

  “Well, maybe,” she admitted, “but… well, it’s all very complicated at the moment.”

  “Isn’t it always?” Maggie rolled her eyes. “Talk to him, girl. Honestly, it’s a wonder anyone ever falls in love in the first place, there’s always a whole list of reasons it’s a terrible idea…”

  Nancy couldn’t help but laugh. “Good advice as always, Maggie.”

  “Aye, I’m full of wisdom, that’s what they tell me. Off you head, now. Tell him the bad news first, get it out of the way. Then you can sweeten it.”

  “Maggie!” she said again, blushing to the roots of her hair. The old woman’s laughter followed her all the way back down the road toward the castle… and she couldn’t scrub the smile off her face. It seemed her feelings weren’t unreciprocated. She was looking forward to having lunch with Malcolm.

  Chapter 34

  Sure enough, as Maggie had predicted, Malcolm was waiting for her at the castle. Well, not waiting, exactly — he was standing by one of the tables, staring down at the food there, clearly so exhausted that he’d sort of rolled to a stop and frozen, mid-thought. She grinned, moving up beside him as quietly as she could before grabbing him by the elbow, rewarded by a huge jump and a gasp of surprise from him that felt very out-of-place coming from such a usually unflappable person. She giggled apologetically at the reproachful look he fixed on her.

  “Sorry. Couldn’t resist. You looked so exhausted.”

  “I can’t remember the last time I had a good night’s sleep,” he said forlornly, taking a seat at the table with her following suit. “Patrols last night were… awful.”

  She blinked, feeling a little guilty now for startling him if he’d had such a terrible night. Reaching for a bread roll, she glanced up at him. “Awful how?”

  “More raids. Lots more than usual. They hit five or six houses,” he said bleakly. “Got in through windows and doors that we hadn’t managed to get a cross onto yet. John’s working as fast as he can, but you can’t really rush blacksmithing. There’s a pace, and that’s it. At this rate, every house in the village should be protected within the week… but then there’s the outlying farms and fishers who need protection for their stores, too. They’ve been coming into the village, asking about what’s going on. A handful of them will be at the meeting tonight.”

  Nancy sighed — she’d forgotten about the meeting. She’d hoped Malcolm would be able to head off and get some rest, but it seemed he’d need to stay awake a little while longer — the meetings tended to take place before nightfall to make sure everyone was home safe by dark. “That sucks,” she said sincerely. “I’m sorry.” A sudden connection to the events of the night before became clear. “More raids… were the patrols any less?”

  “No, we were full strength. We learned our lesson the other week
when we were shorthanded,” he said irritably. “God, that was a terrible idea.”

  “Then would the effects be consistent with… an upswing in the numbers of thieves?”

  “Aye, that could be it. Why? What do you know?”

  She took a deep breath. “We’ll probably have to talk about this at the meeting,” she said levelly, “but I have reason to believe more of the thieves came through the burgh last night.”

  Malcolm stared at her, rubbing his face in dismay. “Aye, I heard a few rumors about last night. The Monster was roaring, the men said. I suppose it wasn’t able to stop all of them.”

  “No, though according to Maggie she did her best,” Nancy said, smiling a little as she thought of the creature. Somehow, the news that it had killed and eaten sentient, intelligent creatures didn’t quite manage to make her love the creature any less. But Malcolm’s face was drawn.

  “God, what are we going to do? We can’t increase patrols without completely gutting the staff on our own walls, which would open us up to attack… we can’t turn out the iron crosses any faster, we can’t get any more dogs, we can’t —”

  “I have an idea,” Nancy cut across him. “Let’s declare an hour-long moratorium on shop talk. How about that? Just an hour where we talk about other things. You might find it restful.”

  “That sounds like an excellent idea,” Malcolm said heavily, giving her a grateful smile. “Let’s talk about other things.”

  They found plenty, too. Malcolm was full of questions about Nancy’s home — about how technology had progressed, what modern medicine was doing, what the political situation was. She’d explained American independence, which had surprised and pleased him, but unfortunately her memory of politics in Europe wasn’t especially good — she wasn’t exactly sure what was going on with Scotland, only that it was still bound up with England somehow. And somehow, though she wasn’t quite sure how, they got on to their respective romantic histories.

  “I never really had time for dating and all that stuff,” Nancy admitted, shrugging. “I dated a few boys in high school, nothing too serious, but I never really felt much when we broke up. Mostly just glad that I’d have my weekends to myself again, so I could go diving as much as I liked without getting passive-aggressive texts about how I wasn’t spending enough time with them.” She grinned. “But yeah. I tried online dating —”

  “What?”

  She hesitated. They hadn’t touched on the subject of the Internet. He’d had enough trouble with the concept of cars. “Basically… like match-making.”

  “Oh. Right.” He raised an eyebrow. “Did you find any matches?”

  “None at all.” She laughed. “Only a bunch of terrible men. But what about you? Have you left a trail of broken hearts behind you?”

  “Me? Of course not.” He hesitated. “I mean, I’ve seen a few women, I’m no hermit, but… it all felt a little hollow. I’m waiting for the real person, now.”

  The real person. Something about that resonated with her. Something that she’d been thinking about almost since she’d met Malcolm, what felt like years ago but was really only a few weeks. She smiled at him. “Me too.”

  There was a curious silence — and maybe that conversation would have continued to a more intimate one as well as more interesting place had that not been the time appointed for the meeting. Soon enough, the hall was full of grumbling villagers and taut-faced soldiers, and the opportunity to pursue what exactly Malcolm had meant by ‘the real person’ was lost. Nancy ground her teeth a little but shuffled down when Anna appeared behind her. Trust the woman to be at this meeting — she wouldn’t miss a strategic meeting for love nor money.

  The first order of business was a discussion of how many houses had been attacked the night before. Sure enough, considerable damage had been done — to several houses at once, which indicated that there were now enough attackers to be operating in multiple groups at once. Brendan, looking a little more well-rested, explained the situation — Malcolm got up to add that Maggie had confirmed that a number of the thieves had been killed before they had been able to join their brethren. There was a sense of unease in the room that Nancy couldn’t put a finger on — not, that was, until a fisherman stood up, a weathered-looking man that she hadn’t met.

  “I’ll speak bluntly, Laird Donal,” the man said, his accent thick. “We’re concerned about the goings-on in this castle. Have been for some time. It stinks of witchcraft, y’see? And so does all this.”

  “I can assure you,” Donal said, getting to his feet to respond with anger darkening his handsome face, “that there is no witchcraft, here or anywhere. The attacks are coming from the Loch, where a burgh allows the passage of Unseelie Fae into our world —”

  The fisherman scoffed. “Fairy stories. Stupid superstitions. I’m not a child, Laird Donal.”

  “And nor am I,” Donal said, his voice low and deadly. “I have seen these creatures. I have fought them. I, and everyone in this Sept, know a great deal more about the matter than you do. Why do you think the iron crosses above the doorway are keeping these creatures at bay?”

  “Because they’re blessed by the Lord!” another villager called out, truculent. “And these creatures are demons, beings of witchcraft, brought here by witches —”

  “There are no witches here,” Donal boomed.

  Nancy knew that that was technically untrue — the herbalists and scholars who made the castle their home would absolutely qualify as witches by any definition. But in the sense that this man meant ‘witches’ — doers of evil and summoners of demons — there were certainly none of those here. Not that he looked particularly convinced.

  “When I can,” Donal said through gritted teeth, “I will provide you all proof of exactly which creatures are causing these problems. But until then, all I can give you is our assurances that we are doing our best to resolve the problem.”

  There were grumblings still, but the fisherman sat down. The consensus of the meeting was worrying. It seemed that with increased patrols in the village, the band of robbers were taking advantage of more isolated homes, raiding outlying farms and fishermen who lived further down the coast, often alone. It was agreed that some of the iron crosses would be brought to those outlying communities — but the villagers complained that their own homes were still not completely shored up.

  “It would be easier,” Malcolm said through gritted teeth to Nancy and Anna, “If we didn’t have to form the iron ingots into crosses and wait for the Father to bless them before we sent them out, but here we are. And they say we’re slaves to superstition…”

  “They’ll come around,” Nancy murmured, frowning — she didn’t quite believe that to be the case. Fancy living in a village on the shores of a lake that housed an honest-to-God prehistoric monster and not believing in faeries. Still — as Donal had said, sooner or later there would be real, concrete proof of faeries for the villagers to deal with. Nancy hoped that there would be a few apologies at that point, at least. It would be the least they could do to make up for all the excess trouble that was being put on these already overworked, overstressed men.

  The final note from the meeting was sobering. One of the fishermen stood up, wringing his hands — a much less confident speaker than the first man who’d spoken. His name was Daniel, and he hadn’t heard from a colleague in several days — a man he usually fished with every other day at least.

  “I’m concerned, with the robberies, that something’s gone wrong. I visited his house this morning, and there was no answer. Perhaps someone could investigate?”

  “Aye, I’ll go tomorrow,” Malcolm said, raising his voice to be heard. “We’ll find your friend, Daniel, don’t worry.”

  Nancy watched him move over to the man once the meeting had finished, lowering his head to talk to him seriously. She hoped that the offer of doing something in the morning meant that Malcolm intended to spend the evening sleeping, not on patrol. She didn’t like how exhausted he looked, how worn out. Even
his temper was frayed — he’d gotten far angrier than she’d expected at the voices of dissent among the villagers. He came back over to her a few minutes later as the last of the visitors filtered out of the hall, moving quickly — everyone wanted to get home and safe before nightfall. And fair enough, too, with paranormal thieves on the loose.

  “Would you like to come with me on a ride tomorrow?” he asked, gesturing over his shoulder toward the fisherman. “I’ve agreed to go and have a look at this man Harold’s house, to see if anything could have gone wrong. It might be a long ride,” he warned. “The fishermen live beyond the village — there’s a rock that juts further out into the Loch in that direction, where it’s a lot easier to catch fish.”

  “I’d be delighted to accompany you,” Nancy said brightly — she didn’t miss the way Anna, sitting at her side, smiled secretively to herself. Let her smile. She was delighted to be able to spend a morning’s ride with Malcolm.

  She only wished she could shake the fear that they were going in search of a dead man.

  Chapter 35

  The day dawned bright and cold, and Nancy stayed rugged up in her blanket for a little longer than usual, wishing there was a fire in her little hearth to ease the chill of the morning air. But there was no getting around it — she had to get up. They had important work to do — a lost man to find, perhaps even more information about the robberies to unearth. It was worrisome, to hear that the band of robbers (it was general consensus that the raids were being conducted by multiple creatures, probably all wielding knives like the one that Nancy had found in Marianne’s larder) were now targeting more isolated, vulnerable people. Concerns had been expressed about travelers, who often traveled the roads at night, unwary of the dangers that were presently plaguing this area. Nancy missed the Internet. It had its faults, but at least it was a good way of warning people en masse of problems like this one.