by L. L. Muir
He hadn’t seen his family. He’d mentioned guards earlier. At times he seemed insane. “Have you been locked away somewhere?”
He chuckled, but it seemed humorless. “Aye, lass. You could say that.”
“And your family didn’t visit you?”
“In the early days they came a few times, but they’ve been gone a long while now.”
Compassion she didn’t want to feel rushed through her. “How long were you imprisoned?”
“It’s been 270 years now.”
“Oh. Well, then.” She didn’t know what to say to that. His gaze was clear, unmarked by insanity, but lunacy was the only thing that made sense. “Tell me your name. Who are you?” Perhaps she could look him up on the Internet and find out where he came from. Surely someone was missing him. A warden, perhaps?
“I am Gareth Alexander Sutherland McGregor. I was born in the year 1720. My parents are Mary Alice Sutherland MacGregor, and John Gareth Michael McGregor. I worked for the French army, and by Culloden served under Lord Murray and fought with the Glengarry regiment. To my everlastin’ shame, I talked my brothers into joinin’ me in takin’ up the Jacobite cause to place The Young Pretender upon the throne.”
Chills ran up her back. She’d seen enough of the movie the day before to understand the gist of what he was talking about. She nodded. “Go on.”
“Charles Stuart betrayed us all. The man was a coward and a cheat. Along with myself, my brothers and my comrades all paid the price for his cowardice and ineptitude.”
Just to be sure they were on the same page, she asked, “At Culloden Moor?”
“Aye.” He seemed pleased by her understanding. “We were slaughtered in 1745, and ever since we have lived in a state of otherness, fading in and out, neither alive nor truly dead and gone.”
“Ah.” That sealed it then. He resided in a psychiatric institution, and he’d obviously escaped. He was out terrorizing tourists and needed to be captured and reinstated in his ward.
That’s what her brain told her anyway.
But she’d seen him yesterday, hadn’t she? What were the chances Culloden Moor’s visitors center had an elaborate hologram that chased people back to the parking lot?
Still, what were the chances an enraged highland ghost had overheard her bragging she was a Stuart and tried to kill her?
She rubbed her forehead, glanced around and tried to ground herself in reality. There was no way this man had been born close to 300 years ago. That was obviously impossible. But she had to ask. “You were the ghost yesterday at Culloden Moor?”
“Aye.”
“Did you see me there?”
“Aye. I tried to strike ye down with my claymore.”
Chills lifted the hair at her neck.
“And now you’re no longer a ghost?”
He held out his arms. “Flesh and blood.”
“Why aren’t you a ghost anymore?”
“I’ll not expect ye to believe,” he looked down, as if embarrassed. “It was a young witchling. She’s given us a second chance, hasn’t she?”
“So, a witch brought you back to life. A teenage witch?”
“That’s what I’m sayin’.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I understand if you dinnae believe. I’d not believe either, if I’d not experienced it firsthand.”
“Why hang about Culloden Moor? Why haven’t you moved on?” She tried to sound reasonable.
He shrugged. “I’ve considered it over the years, of course, and ’tis my belief we got stuck.”
“Why’s that?”
He took a step back. “I’ll not stand here and answer all your questions.” He sounded on the verge of anger once more.
She sighed. Even if the memory of the ghostly apparition from the day before caused her to doubt all rational beliefs, where did they go from here? “Tell me what you want. Are you going to kill me?”
He rubbed the back of his neck again. “Nae. I’ve decided not to.”
She took a breath, and released it slowly. “What do you want, then?”
“I dinnae know.”
He seemed lost and afraid and she could feel her heart softening. Not a good idea. How many actors had tried to get into her good graces, telling her sob stories, hoping she’d intervene on their behalf with the higher ups? She was trying to learn to steel herself against exactly this kind of manipulation.
In fact, could this man be a Hollywood actor determined to land a part in the movie she was researching? She wouldn’t put it past any of their ilk. “Would you mind if I left?”
He scowled. “I’m not ready to see you go. I’ve still questions.”
She folded her arms in front of her. “Can I finish answering your questions and then be on my way?”
“Nae. I’ll not have ye leavin’ me.”
She could see the man was in pain, angry, and perhaps in need of medication. Still, her heart was touched. “I could stay with you for a while. Is there anywhere you’d care to go?”
Angry and confused, his vivid gray eyes searched her face. Tanned skin and broad cheekbones highlighted a strong, masculine beauty, and braids held black hair out of the way. “I want to go home, lass. Can you help me get home?”
She felt herself softening further. “Are you going to hurt me?”
“Nae, lass. Stuart or no, I told ye I decided not to.”
“Thank you.”
His lips tilted in a smile. “So, we’re to be friends, then?”
She wondered if she had Stockholm syndrome? Could you get that after one night? Apparently so. Regardless, she did feel everyone was entitled to a second chance. She’d received one once, hadn’t she? And she’d been able to turn her entire life around because of it.
Her kidnapping, while she still didn’t understand it, hadn’t hurt her. It scared her, but she was unharmed. Was she willing to see the man behind bars for the rest of his life for an ill thought out kidnapping when he was so obviously under stress?
The answer was no.
“What’s it to be, wee kitten? Will ye help me?”
She looked at him for a long moment, and he shifted from one foot to the next. He seemed to be anxious, holding his breath.
She was going to be an idiot, wasn’t she?
She slowly nodded. “Yes. Yes, I will.”
~~~
After walking a couple of hours, they stopped in a small town so Lissa could purchase some clothing. Gareth wouldn’t risk returning for her things and insisted they press forward. She insisted she wasn’t wearing her night clothes for the rest of their time together, and though he was anxious to move on to Inverness, he’d been curious about the place as well. The town had not been there the last he’d walked this way.
Lissa had declared the place generic, and claimed it was similar to eastern towns in America. She’d been disappointed by its lack of Scottish charm, as she called it.
For Gareth, there’d been plenty to see. None of the buildings, trees, or people looked familiar to him. The cars were the worst, speeding past, frightening the wits out of innocent bystanders.
How could so much have changed?
He’d worried about trusting her and resorted to threats once again. “I dinnae want to hurt anyone, but I will.” He’d insisted.
She’d been furious. “I’ve said I’ll help, so stop with the bullying already!”
He nodded, but stayed close just the same.
Now they’d finally hit Inverness and he felt hollow and muddled as they traipsed through the crowded city.
“This place is gorgeous!” Lissa gazed about in awe. “And look at the street. Cobblestones! There are certain things Europe has in spades that we don’t have in America.”
“Ye’ve not any roads?”
She rolled her eyes. “Of course we do, but not like these. And we don’t have anything similar to this.” She gestured at the tall, colorful buildings. “We have cathedrals, but nothing like the ones you have here in Europe. The architecture is so different from what I’m
used to. The last place reminded me of where I’m from. Do you see the difference? Here it’s all arches, tall buildings, steeples, and cobblestones. And we have cities rather than villages. Plus, we don’t have castles.”
He shifted around a couple shopping at a stall. “No castles?”
“No. Plus, you have structures dating back to the prehistoric era, Roman times, middle ages, the Renaissance, and beyond. I did some research to get started, but there’s so much to see, I really don’t know where to go first.”
“We go to Inverdeem.”
She laughed and her good mood was contagious, her enthusiasm attractive, marking her somehow even prettier than before. “Inverdeem is as good a place to start as any.”
“All right, lass.” Gareth glanced around a bit uneasily. He didn’t care for the crowds, and though some of the buildings were similar to those in his time, most things looked different to him. Especially the size of the city. He hoped the changes in his village were less dramatic.
Earlier they’d finished off the food he’d stolen the night before, and he was hungry again. He could smell meat roasting and glanced about to see if he could spot the source.
He walked over to a vendor roasting chicken, and Lissa followed. “Do you want to get something to eat?”
He nodded, but the sudden realization he had no coin bothered him.
She set her pack down, retrieved a small purse, and pulled out a card. He’d seen them before at the visitors center and wondered at their use. “This is for payment?”
“The money is in the bank and this credit card allows me to use it.”
“’Tis yer hard earned coin?”
She glanced up and seemed to read his concern. “Don’t worry. My boss pays for all my food and lodging. If we don’t eat at fancy restaurants, there’s plenty for the both of us.”
He nodded, relieved the coin wasn’t coming directly from her.
As she ordered their meal, he looked around with interest. He wandered a few feet away to watch the cook throw spiced meat over hot iron bars and fry up what looked to be potatoes.
“Gareth! Help!”
Gareth rounded, his dagger in hand.
Lissa glanced frantically around. “My pack! He stole it!” She pointed in the direction of a young man moving fast. “Please, you have to stop him! He has my laptop and my camera and everything I need.”
“Ye’ll stay here?”
Her eyes were filled with tears now. “Yes! Please, catch him.”
It was a relief to have a task to accomplish. There was much he didn’t know about this time period, but he knew how to deal with a thief.
“Give me yer word ye’ll not leave.”
“I give you my word. I’ll be right here when you get back. Please, hurry!”
He took off after the thief. The young man was fast, glancing over his shoulder occasionally, but Gareth was faster. He’d spent his entire life on his legs and was fast and strong. Not only that, but Gareth was happy to have a goal. It had been a long time since he’d been able to fight a villain. He would not let Lissa down.
The thief ran down a side street, but Gareth ran after him, gaining fast. The young man turned a corner, jumped on a fence, and started to climb while casting a look of fear behind him.
Dagger in hand, Gareth was almost upon the young man when the thief squealed, ditched the pack, and scrambled over the fence.
Gareth, heart racing, was almost unwilling to give up the chase, but realized someone else could come pick up the pack, and he’d lose it. Lissa wouldn’t be impressed by the fact he’d pounded the lad’s face a bit if her pack went missing.
With a resigned sigh, he gave up the chase, and watched his prey run off.
He didn’t have to like it.
He picked up the pack and slung it over one shoulder. “I’ll not forget yer face!” He yelled after the young man.
He hurried back to find Lissa waiting at an outside table, food laid out, wringing her hands. She saw him coming and rushed forward. “Are you all right? Did he hurt you?” She petted his arm.
Pleasure and indignation fought to rule. It was nice that she worried, but truly? “Ye’re not serious, lass?”
She looked slightly abashed. “He could have had a knife or something.”
Gareth chuckled. “I should be so fortunate. He ditched the pack, forcin’ me to give up the chase.”
“What would you have done if you’d caught him?”
“Simply taught the lad some manners.” He sat and looked at the food on the table. “Shall we?”
“Go ahead.” Lissa opened the pack and searched inside. She let out a breath. “Thank goodness, it’s all here. I can’t thank you enough. You were amazing.”
Pleasure flooded him and heat rose in his cheeks. He reached for some chicken. “Think naught on it, I’ll keep ye safe while yer with me.”
“And how long might that be?”
“I’ve been thinkin’ on that as we walked. ’Tis obvious I won’t be able to kill ye even though ye carry tainted blood.”
She lifted a brow. “That’s good.”
He looked at her bent head suspiciously. Was she laughing at him? “That does not mean ye dinnae owe me.”
“How do you figure?”
“I’m not takin’ yer life, am I? And I retrieved somethin’ precious to ye, did I not?”
“You did.” They ate in silence for a moment.
“I want ye to agree to help me of yer own free will. I want yer word ye’ll not run off.”
“You know what? Fine. I’m used to it anyway. Every man I’ve ever been around has wanted something from me. So don’t worry about it, I’m used to being used.”
Gareth scowled. “Did yer father not protect yer virtue? Yer brothers?”
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t have any brothers. And men didn’t want that from me.”
He ran his gaze over what he could see of her, sitting as she was, pretty as a picture, her curves obvious in the tight shirt. “Of course they did.”
She blushed. “Be that as it may, tell me what, exactly, you want from me? “
He dropped his gaze to his food so as not to stare at her. “I seem to be headin’ home. I’d like yer word ye’ll help me complete this task. I dinnae wish to worry every second that ye’ll run.”
“Look, I’ll be glad to help you find your sister.” She hesitated. “Or, if she’s not around, her descendants. Either way, I’ll do whatever I’m able. There will be church records, and I’m actually quite good at this sort of thing.” She held out her hand. “So, yes. You have my word.”
He took her slight hand in his and ran his thumb over the back of it, enjoying the softness and the feel of her skin. “So ye’re to be my servant? If only for a short while?”
It was her turn to scowl and his to laugh.
CHAPTER FIVE
They walked out of town and down the road again.
“Are you sure you don’t want to get a rental car?” Lissa asked.
“I enjoy the road. It’s been a long while since I’ve been able to walk it.”
He realized he was a bit leery about reaching Inverdeem. As much as Inverness had changed, he wondered what his own village would look like. He feared what he’d find there. If they walked the entire way, that was all right by him.
Besides, he enjoyed the feel of Scotland under his feet once more. Enjoyed the connection, the air in his lungs, the sun on his skin.
He glanced at the girl. He appreciated the company as well. “Ye’ve been a good sport.”
“And you saved my backpack.”
He gripped the strap over his shoulder and smiled. It was a small thing, but it made him happy to have done such for her. Perhaps the witch would consider it his good deed? He doubted it. It was but a small thing. If he’d been able to thrash the thief, then mayhap she’d accept it as such. He wished he’d had the chance. A good fight might be just what he needed to set his world straight again. “’Twas naught.”
“It
might have been nothing to you, but it meant the world to me.”
Again, he felt his chest puffing. The girl made him feel good, and he was glad of her companionship. If he accomplished his good deed too soon, Soni might come for him. He wasn’t ready to go yet.
He gestured to the fields on either side of the road. “Much has changed, but it makes me glad to see some things stayed the same.”
She looked out at the rolling fields. “Scotland is beautiful.”
“Aye, lass. There’s no place like it in the world.”
“Have you been many places?”
“France, Rome, Italy. England, of course. Though the circumstances weren’t what ye’d call pleasurable.”
“Have you ever been to America?”
“No. Though, I understand many from Scotland went there after Culloden Moor. Chased there by the English. From what I’ve seen and heard, it wasnae a good time.”
Her eyes narrowed as, once again, she visibly struggled to accept he’d been born centuries earlier.
“What say ye, lass, ye’ll not believe I’m a ghost come back to life to haunt ye?”
She looked at him and said darkly, “Oh, I believe you’re here to haunt me, all right.”
He laughed aloud. As confused as the girl was, she was good company. He could feel her softening toward him, as he was to her.
If he could simply forget who begat her, he’d find their time together pleasant, indeed.
Not only that, but he found himself feeling possessive of the girl. He enjoyed sheltering her, protecting her, and carrying her pack. He hoped for another opportunity to champion her so as to see the adoring way she gazed at him. He knew he should not care for such, but could not will himself to stop.
On the other hand, perhaps he should be feeling such. She was his prisoner, and no matter what she said, for the moment, his servant. She was to do him a good turn, and in response, he’d spare her life.
A fine arrangement, that.
And it handily explained his feelings.
He should feel camaraderie toward his servant.
That, he could live with.
~~~
Lissa wiped the fog from the mirror and studied her face. She couldn’t believe she was sharing a bed and breakfast with a madman. They’d walked for most of the day, Gareth trying his best to stay away from the general populace. At first she’d thought he was afraid she’d run away, but the longer they walked, the more he seemed to enjoy it. So maybe he was just the outdoors type.
