A dark brow arched over a clear blue eye as he said drily, “Have no fear, Mother, the wee lass did naught but dent my pride.”
She laughed at his remark and leaned her head against his shoulder. “She seems like a fine match. I look forward to meeting her.”
As they headed back to the castle, she inquired, “And how have the arrangements been progressing with Lady Brighton and her father? No problems, I hope.”
At that he took a deep breath. “I sent word with the best explanation I could fathom and a heavy purse as recompense. Perhaps that will be all that is needed. Now, shall we return for supper? I can hear Cook giving orders all the way over here.”
As they entered the great hall, Lady MacGregor glanced at the stairwell. And fainted.
Leith patted a damp cloth to his mother’s brow and lightly patted her cheek, hoping to force her to regain consciousness. She moaned, her eyelids fluttering, as she slowly focused her eyes.
“Mother? How are you feeling?” he asked, frowning with concern.
She inhaled sharply. “That girl!” she exclaimed.
Leith and Raine exchanged glances. When his mother had suddenly gone limp in his arms, Raine had dashed to his side and insisted on remaining there. She did not know the woman, but the family resemblance was unmistakable.
Raine came forward slightly until she was in Lady MacGregor’s line of sight.
Lady MacGregor sat up quickly and then slumped while holding her hand to her head. “You! I know you! I have seen you before, I know it.”
Raine chewed her lip. “I am sorry, but I am certain we have never met before. You must have me mistaken with someone else. I have never been to this country before.”
Lady MacGregor gingerly rose from the bed. She touched Raine’s long golden hair that she had not bothered to put up in a braid today. Her hand traced Raine’s jaw, then her eyebrows, until stopping at the corner of her mouth. She nodded. “I know you.”
Raine muttered, “Believe me, ma’am, I assure you that we have never met. I guarantee it.”
Leith said carefully, “Mother, perhaps ye should rest. Mac should be here momentarily to check on ye.”
On cue, the old monk entered the room, his brow furrowed with concern for the wife of his oldest and dearest friend, Leith’s father.
“Madam.”
He went to her side and immediately began poking and feeling her head, shoulders, arms.
She gave a small laugh. “Mac, my dear, I am fine, I assure you.”
She glanced at Raine from beneath her lashes. “Tell me, Mac, do you still have that old, black leather bound book that my grandfather gave you when we were children? The one that speaks of that silly curse on Hell’s Gate?”
Mac stopped his perusal of her body and met her gaze. He followed her gaze to Raine and then back, then back again to Raine. Lady MacGregor touched a strand of Raine’s hair again, then grabbed her chin and tilted it to catch the evening light. He gasped. How had he not seen this before? How could he have been so stupid? Leith had given him all the information and he had overlooked it. He realized that she was somehow connected to the stones, but it was the stones themselves that he had concentrated on, not the lass who was the catalyst of the two.
In unison, Mac and Lady MacGregor said softly, “Rayanna.”
Leith stared at them in bewilderment. They had both lost their minds. Raine was chewing her bottom lip so fiercely he was waiting for the blood to come forth at any moment.
The bell sounded for dinner, and he grabbed at the opportunity to end this. He took Raine’s hand in his and his mother’s in the other. “Dinner, my ladies.”
As they entered the dining hall, he seated his mother on the opposite side of Mac in the hopes of discouraging any more talk of this legend, but they just craned their necks and spoke around him or over him.
“Believe me, Leith, she is identical to the girl in the book. I have not seen it in many years but I know it,” his mother whispered excitedly. She grasped his hand. “I know it.”
Mac chimed in, “I find it difficult to admit that I did not make the connection myself, since it is my duty to know everything in the books that occupy my shelves.” He took a bit of venison. “Especially after you told me that she was inquiring about the stones.”
“Stones?” his mother repeated, frowning. “What stones?” After a second of thought, her face lit up. “The stones!” she exclaimed.
Leith briefly retold the story that he had previously explained to Mac. Lady MacGregor leaned back in her chair and shook her head. “I never thought that I would live to see it, but my grandfather always said it would happen soon. Hell’s Gate will prosper and will no longer be considered the boil on the Queen’s arse.”
Leith choked on his wine. “Mother!”
She patted his hand absently. She continued as if speaking aloud to herself, instead of carrying on a conversation with others. “He said that a girl of hair the color of the sun and eyes the color of the sea would ensnare the heart of the Laird of Hell’s Gate and would breed magnificent warriors who would one day rule the land as far as England’s shores. The land would prosper, the crops would be bountiful, and the water would flow as clear as crystal. The women would start to have babies again and Hell’s Gate would no longer be cursed.”
Leith dropped his fork. “It is not cursed, Mother. We have crops, we have clean water, and there are plenty of children running amuck.”
Mac and Lady MacGregor, and Raine as well, looked at him. Raine was not sure of the crops or the water, but the lack of children was evident. The youngest child she had seen was at least ten years of age. Strange she had not noticed that before.
“Och, the land is barely able to feed the people through the winter and the water is, although acceptable for most cases, quite on the murky from all the silt it carries.”
“If your nephew, Alisdair, would stop raiding my borders and polluting my waters, there would be plenty of clean water and lots of babies to be birthed if their father’s were not killed in the raids,” Leith replied pointedly.
“Well, the land could use a good dose of reproducing and so could the people, my lord.” Mac glanced at Raine, causing a blush to creep up to her cheeks.
She decided to interject her own two cents. If she could find the stones the Professor had used, she could return home. “So, since it is evident the stones exist in your books, as you said, is it possible for me to see them? Just for curiosity’s sake.” She added a smile for good measure.
Leith glared at her. “The stones are a myth.”
“On the contrary, my dear.”
All eyes were on Lady MacGregor. “I have seen them.”
Chapter 9
Raine had fought the entire way as Leith half dragged and half carried her through the castle and up to her room where he promptly deposited her on the bed, turned on his heel, and bolted the door from the outside as he left. Her objections and screams fell on deaf ears.
She pounded on the door, realizing the denseness of the heavy wood was withstanding the beating much better than her fists were. She paced a trail in the floor rushes, pounded on the door a couple more times in case someone might be within earshot, and then flounced on the bed unappreciative of the hand designed silk coverlet.
After what seemed like an eternity, the door opened and there stood that giant of a man whose mother knew the location of the pieces of rock that could get her back home.
Leith did not enjoy arguing with his mother but tonight he’d had no choice. He knew that Raine would now hound him endlessly to be escorted to the stones in the hopes of conjuring up magic to return to some imaginary native land. He was ready to pull his hair out between. His mother had insisted that her father had brought her on a family pilgrimage as a child, and they had stopped to view the stones. She had said that she remembered vividly the story he had told her about the magic and power that these stones held but that only a select few could access it when the moon and stars were in perfect alignment
.
However, Leith was practical. While he believed that Raine believed the craziness of her tale, he did not put much faith into its authenticity. He also did not put much faith into a tale a father told his young daughter about magic rocks.
“Are you taking me to the stones?” Raine could contain herself no longer and had to voice the question.
Leith continued to stare at her, frowning.
She shifted on the bed. “Are you?”
He stared.
She stared back.
He cocked his head, still staring.
She jumped to her feet, exclaiming, “Well?!”
He turned to the window and replied heavily, “Well, what?”
She wanted to scream but almost choked trying to say calmly, “Are you taking me to the stones? If your mother knows where they are, I can get back to my own home.”
She walked over to him and put her hand on his arm. “Please.”
He did not move even though the heat of her had made its way up to shoulder and down to his groin. He had a thought, a delightfully wicked thought.
He met her pleading gaze and wanted to drown in the green depths. “I will take you to the stones.”
Her mouth fell open, and then she let out a small cry as she jumped and clapped her hands in delight. That was much easier than she had anticipated.
He gave her a half smile. “After the wedding.”
Raine stomped down the stairs and made her way to the barn. She continued stomping and kicked the toe of her shoe into the remains of a withered tree stump that had been cut long ago. She grunted as her toe made contact but refused to acknowledge anything but the anger that was boiling inside of her. That man was despicable.
The previous evening had held much promise, or so she had thought, while at dinner. Even when she had been manhandled and locked away in her room after the meal when Leith’s mother had announced that she not only knew of the stones but had actually, physically seen them, Raine had thought there was hope. Hope that she would soon return to her own world, her own time, her own life. A life which did not include leaving behind a husband. Becoming a spinster was not on her agenda, but handing her virginity over to a medieval Scottish lord hundreds of years younger than she was did not sit well with her either.
She grabbed the saddle hanging by the oversized door and dragged it towards the stall of the horses, stopping when she reached the one labeled “Ellie”. Ignoring the intricate detailed workings of the leather, she slung it onto the mare. Lady MacGregor had mentioned that she would like to go riding while she was in residence and that this was the mare that was docile enough to be handled by the older woman with few complaints. She would suit Raine just fine for although she had had some experience with her grandparent’s farm, she was far from being able to handle a spirited animal at the moment.
The horse let out a soft whinny with the weight of her new rider. “Oh, now, I’m not that heavy, old girl.”
She lifted the reigns and steered her onto the well-worn path that led to the fields and hills, away from the castle. Some fresh air would cool her temper and the long ride would give her time to think of an alternative to a Scottish wedding to a Scottish highlander.
Ellie was a fine golden mare with strong muscles and sure feet. She needed little guidance from Raine and soon took her head while Raine frowned at the rolling hillside without seeing it while she pondered her impossible situation. How was she going to convince him to take her to the stones without the agreement of marriage? And why was he so insistent upon marrying her anyway?
While staring at the ground and absently wrapping Ellie’s mane around her finger, she jerked at the first clap of thunder. The dark clouds rolling over the mountains had escaped her attention and were now threatening to release their heavy load.
Raine searched the horizon, twisting in her seat to find some sort of shelter from the torrent of rain that was sure to come in a few moments time when she spotted a small ramshackled barn that had seen better days. Ellie needed no encouragement as she turned toward it before Raine had even nudged her in that direction.
As they rounded the curve of the small building that seemed to be no more than a little hut, the clouds opened. Ellie was a full gallop to close the gap between her and the promise of shelter by then. She was as uninterested in being drenched as her rider.
The door was heavy but opened easily on well oiled hinges. People must still use this little shack as she was now and thought nothing of pushing her way, and that of Ellie’s, into the building. With her long wet hair wrapped around shoulders and part of her face, she led Ellie to the corner and grabbed some hay with which to wipe off some of the water. She never noticed that she was not alone.
A scream that almost split the rafters pierced Leith’s ears as he cleared his throat from across the room. Good thing he had not thought to touch her shoulder.
She glared at him, pushing the wet strands of hair from her eyes. The ribbon tying it up must have gotten lost on the way to the barn somewhere. “Must you sneak up on me?” she demanded.
He raised an eyebrow, and replied icily, “I am at least twenty feet away from ye, lass. There was no sneaking up on anyone.”
Turning, she threw down the handful of wet hay, and began to wring out her hair. “What are you doing here? I thought you went into the town with your men.”
Irritation was running rampant at the thought that he had ruined her afternoon by being here when all she wanted was to get away from him. Her body temperature always seemed to get slightly higher when he around. Some solitude was not too much to ask.
He tied the reigns of his horse to a fallen log in the corner, and walked towards her. Leaning on the wall, he folded his arms across his chest and peered at her.
“Did ye purposely follow me here?”
Those blue eyes held her gaze for a mere second before she could feel them scouring her body, taking in the details that her damp clothes were portraying. She folded her arms over her chest but that only increased her cleavage level while bringing a smile to his lips. She frowned. These darn bodices.
She quickly turned her back to him and took a few steps.
“I was not following you. I thought you had gone into town. I was out taking a ride when the clouds rolled in before I realized how far away from the castle I was.”
She turned, feeling safer as she moved away from him. “Besides, I wanted to be alone for awhile to think. It’s a bit hard with all the hustle and bustle of the entire castle preparing for a wedding.” She chewed her nail and stole a glance at him.
“A wedding that could be postponed, if you wanted to,” she said, pretending severe interest in her thumbnail.
Leith let out a robust laugh, causing a scowl to mar Raine’s features. He quieted and wiped his eye, saying, “Yes, let us do that, shall we, my sweet lass?”
He pushed off the post and stalked her as she backed up. “We shall tell my mother, who has traveled hundreds of miles to send her eldest son into wedded bliss, that the wedding in cancelled. We shall tell the villagers and tenants that there is to be no grand celebration, no feast, no entertainment, that we shall have to refuse all of the gifts they have gone to so much trouble to prepare for us – for me – their Laird and my beautiful wife. A wife who cares naught for them or their efforts, only for herself and her selfish desires. We shall also,” his voice dipped deceptively, “tell the Queen that after she has given us her blessing, after she has annulled my betrothal to Lady Brighton, that she has sent couriers bearing gifts to us from the monarchy of the kingdom, that we have decided to cancel the wedding all because you want to remain an unmarried virgin.”
Her back was pressed up against the hard wood, splinters cutting into her hands and elbows as she braced herself while her eyes moved frantically trying to judge if she could make a dash for the door. Leith blocked all escape and hope when he formed a box with his arms braced on either side of her. She could feel her temperature rising but she was sure it was her anger
rising.
“You will not intimidate me, mister.” She made to pass to his left, but he pressed himself closer. Her breath came in shorter gasps, and she knew she had to make a run for the door.
Her foot made contact with his shin, and as he double over, she shoved his shoulder back so that he sprawled on the hay strewn floor, letting out a string of curses. She leapt over him, but he snatched her ankle and couldn’t stop a jolt of delight as he heard a welcoming thud as she lay sprawled next to him.
She scooted away, but he dragged her back, as she kicked out at him, catching his knuckles with the wooden heels. She was on her hands and knees, almost sure of victory, when the hard floor rose up to meet her and the air left her lungs in a grunt. Leith lay atop her she swore she heard him growl as he effortlessly flipped her on her back.
Blowing a combination of hay and hair out of her mouth and eyes, she scowled as she shouted, “Get off!” and continued to squirm underneath him.
He smile was wicked as he replied, “I will, on our wedding night. Maybe sooner if you keep wigglin’ like ye are.”
Her green eyes bulged and she had to tell herself to shut her jaw, which she was sure had dropped, and became still as stone. Icily, she nearly commanded, “Kindly remove yourself from my person.”
Since that did not appeal to Leith, he instead shifted slightly to a more comfortable position on top of her with his groin creating too much heat where it met her thigh. “Now, lass, let us have an understanding betwixt us, eh? I was here waiting out the rain, minding my own business, like a good Laird, when ye burst in upon me, alone and unchaperoned.” He frowned as he voiced his next thought. “Where is Dudley? I told him to stay with ye if ye left the keep.”
Raine had the grace to blush. She had seen him flirting with a pretty red headed girl in the servant’s quarters and had used the opportunity to slip away. Poor Dudley never even noticed.
“I left the castle and took a ride. I wasn’t planning on coming here either. I just wanted to be alone and clear my head.” She noticed that he was actually listening to her. She tried to shift and close her legs with modesty but he shifted right along with her, making her thighs spread further apart instead. Her blasted dress was slowing riding up exposing more of her flesh with every movement.
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