Reunited (Book 2 of Lost Highlander series)

by Cayman, Cassidy

  “Tilly! Beggar off, y’daft cow,” he said. “He’s a man like any other in here.”

  Evie gasped and clapped her hand over her mouth as the red-faced waitress flew from their sight.

  “Sam, that was so rude,” she admonished.

  “Well, she’s drooling over him like he’s a fresh shank of lamb she’d like to braise.” Sam scowled and shook his head. “Do you get that in your own time, mate?” he asked.

  Piper almost snorted her tea out of her nose and looked to see Lachlan’s response.

  He looked discomfited and shrugged. “Aye, a bit I suppose. But I’ve none so much money or land, so most quickly lose interest.” He turned to Piper and gave her a beatific smile. “Good thing yer so filthy rich, my love.”

  It was Evie’s turn to snort at Lachlan’s attempt at a joke. Her cheeks were still pink from embarrassment at Sam’s outburst to the waitress, but he assured them he’d known her since primary school and she’d said far worse things to him over the years.

  Their meal was brought to the table by the bartender, who winked at Piper and rolled his eyes at Sam.

  The arrival of the food seemed to bring their situation back with it and they all wilted over their plates, not ready to give up their new good moods.

  As they huddled together over the sandwiches, they went around and around the problem. Evie was adamantly opposed to them trying again, especially with the specter of people getting sucked back in the spell.

  Sam kept waffling, at first agreeing with Evie, then coming up with reasons they should try again, namely Piper’s possible disappearance from the face of the earth. Lachlan was oddly quiet, agreeing abstractly with everyone. Piper sat there staring at her ham and cheese croissant, picking at the watercress and wishing she knew what to do.

  Evelyn made an impassioned speech about the dangers, tugging at Sam’s shirt to show the scar from his stab wound, and pulling down the sleeve of her own top to show the scar she had from Daria slicing her shoulder.

  When she ran to the restroom to lose her lunch, they stared at each other morosely, knowing it was too dangerous to try again.

  When the bill arrived, Sam grabbed it before Piper could, even though she gave him a pained look.

  “Come on, World’s Tiniest Philanthropist,” Evie said as she took out her wallet and she and Sam began adorably putting their money together on the table. “Let us pay for lunch.”

  Piper closed her eyes and let out a long suffering sigh. “It’s Britain’s Cutest,” she corrected, knowing full well that Evelyn knew that.

  Evie gave her an impish grin, but her eyes were serious. “I’m just glad you’re staying,” she said, her voice catching. She covered it with a quick cough and rested her head on Sam’s shoulder.

  Piper felt uneasy about the decision, but tried to hide those feelings. Sam was as relieved as Evie and showed it. Only Lachlan was inscrutable. When they were walking back to the car to go home, she asked him if everything was all right and he merely nodded tersely at her before getting into the passenger seat.

  She wondered if he hadn’t wanted to live in this modern time, but collect her and go home to his own time. It was one more worry on top of an already large pile, and the thought of him not being happy was agony.

  Back at the castle, she drove the car around to the back, noticing that Pietro’s truck was still where he usually parked it, and she glanced down at the barn to see if anyone was around to saddle up the mare for her.

  She was about to ask Lachlan if he’d enjoy a ride around the grounds, when she noticed he was looking at her strangely, almost mournfully. The look in his eyes tore at her heart.

  “What is it?” she asked, hurrying to his side.

  “There is more … I have unfinished obligations I must attend. Piper, this mistake is my doing. I have put ye in danger.” He crushed her close to him and kissed her. “I must go back on my own.”

  Chapter 11

  Pietro rolled over on the lumpy straw mattress and saw Bella standing by the doorway, looking out. He was amazed that he had fallen asleep on the smelly, itchy thing, and rolled off it, thumping at his clothes in case anything might have taken up residence in them.

  She turned around and gave him a radiant smile. It almost knocked him on his ass, and he fumbled around on the ground to find his boots to hide his discomfiture.

  The night before had been odd, bordering on bizarre, to say the least. After she’d gotten the peat fire started to warm up the dismal little hut, she’d loosened her gown and flopped onto the mattress, falling to sleep without any problem, and nothing more to say to him.

  He had lain stiffly next to her, afraid of getting too close, and listened to her soft, gentle breathing while he fruitlessly tried to figure out what had happened to him. He finally gave it up and used his combat training to force himself to shut off his mind and go to sleep so he could be ready for whatever the new day rammed down his throat.

  “We can probably stay here one more night. Much more and we risk Granny’s sons returning to fetch her. I canna say for sure when that bloody feast will be,” Bella said.

  He scratched the back of his neck, convinced he was teeming with bed bugs. Where did they bathe, and for that matter, where was the loo? Things were about to get extremely uncomfortable, and they were not in the least bit comfortable now. She must have noticed his tense look, because she stepped outside and pointed away from the hut.

  “Out back,” she said. “And the creek is down a ways if ye want to wash. Or I can pull ye up some water from the well?”

  She seemed less than enthusiastic about the offer and he quickly shook his head, wanting to be a gentleman and show her that not all men were like her beast of a husband.

  He then couldn’t help wondering if she filled a tub for him, if she’d also scrub his back. He looked her over and his imagination started to work overtime.

  “The creek will be fine,” he said, hustling outside before she could read where his thoughts were heading.

  The air was crisp with the menace of approaching winter and he jogged to the water to get warm. The creek itself looked very much like the one he knew from taking the horses out on the trails, though he’d never had reason to get in it before.

  He stood there looking at the burbling stream, tiny white water eddies crashing over small boulders here and there. He rinsed his hands and face with the frigid water and was about to call his ablutions done when he was positive he felt something shimmy down his left side.

  Stripping every last article of clothing off in record time, he held his breath and crashed into the creek, trying not to yell at the stinging cold. He dunked himself and scrubbed as best he could with no soap, then hopped out and hung his clothes up over a low hanging branch. He found a sturdy stick and began beating his clothing with bug hating gusto. The exertion warmed him up and dried him off and he was about to put his clothes back on when he heard a rustling behind him. Snatching his shirt down from the branch, he held it in front of him and whirled around.

  Bella was standing a few feet away, with her head cocked to the side, blatantly staring at his naked form. Her cheeks were flushed from the brisk air and a sunbeam made its way through the branches to reflect off her shining russet locks.

  He swore to himself. She was every bit as gorgeous as he recalled from the night before, and if he wasn’t fooling himself, she definitely looked interested in what she saw.

  He snatched the rest of his clothes from the tree and jumped behind it, tugging on his jeans as fast as he could, nearly falling flat on his back in the process.

  She was married, he reminded himself. To someone who would snap him like one of the twigs that were jabbing his bare feet. When he was respectably covered he came back around the tree and smiled at her.

  “I beg your pardon,” he said, feeling stupid.

  She merely smiled and gave him a slow once over, which caused his temperature to rise.

  “Ye dress strangely,” she said, though not judgmentall
y.

  He shrugged and nodded, giving her a quick once over himself. She was wearing the same dress as the night before, but now she had a pale gray shawl tucked around her shoulders. She nodded to his boots, which were still in a heap under the tree.

  “D’ye need help with them?”

  He pulled the boots on, hopping in a circle as he did so, causing her to laugh.

  “No thanks,” he said when they were both on. He leaned against the tree and wiped his brow dramatically. “It was no problem.”

  She hurried over to him and tucked her arm in his, looking up at him with her large brown eyes. Close up to her, he could see they were very dark and flecked with amber, and ringed with almost black. Her lashes fluttered and he lost all capacity of thought for a split second. He had to shake his head to clear it.

  “Shall I cook ye an egg?” she asked solicitously, squeezing his forearm and pressing against his side.

  It was a big difference from her half-hearted offer of water that morning, but he was too smitten to be suspicious. If he had to fall down a rabbit hole into a strange time, at least he got to spend time with this lovely woman.

  “Ye mustn’t put yourself out for me,” he said, patting her hand.

  She gave him another smile. “I’m verra grateful for yer help,” she said.

  They were back at the cottage and he didn’t want to go back inside, so he sat down on a rough hewn bench near a woodpile. She sat down next to him.

  “Listen,” he said, leaning close to her, deciding he needed to be as honest as possible. “It may be that I need your help, too. I’m a stranger here, and want to get out as much as ye do.”

  She scrutinized him with her head cocked to the side like a rare bird.

  He sat up straighter and tried to look capable and not completely lost. He swore to himself again, knowing that if he were in his own time and faced with a similar predicament, he’d have everything under perfect control. He almost snorted out loud at the very thought. He doubted in his own time he’d ever be strolling the woods and come across a woman fleeing from her tyrant husband.

  “Maybe we should go back to the castle and try to work things out with your husband,” he said.

  Her eyes grew wide and her mouth dropped open. “He would kill me, and kill ye afterwards. Or perhaps he’d want me to watch as he killed ye first, I dinna know. But we’d both be killed in short order. D’ye no’ understand what I said about him? He’s a madman.” She jumped to her feet and started pacing. “If ye canna help me, I understand. I was prepared to go alone in the first place.”

  Pietro jumped up and grabbed her hands. He didn’t have the first idea how to help her, but couldn’t stand the thought of her trying to make her way on her own. He felt strangely protective of her.

  “Nonsense. We’re in this together.” He asked her where she had originally meant to run before he found her.

  “I was going to beg my aunt in Edinburgh to take me in. She’s a widow and lives independently. I lived with her for this past year. She’s fond of me.”

  “Well, then we’ll have to get a train to Edinburgh,” he said, wondering how much it would cost and whether she had money.

  He didn’t think he could rob anyone, and he didn’t have anything worth selling on him. The phone was absolutely out of the question. His watch was modern, he’d kept it hidden under his sleeve the day before and it was now in his pocket. There was no way he could try to sell it and risk someone getting too interested in where it had come from.

  He realized she was looking at him funny and he thought about what he’d said.

  “Ah, bugger. There’s no trains yet are there?” he asked and waved off her even more confused look. “Well, we’ll take a coach?” he asked. “Or ride. Ye can ride, can’t ye?”

  She pulled herself up and nodded. “I ride verra well. That seems the best plan. We can duck off the roads if need be.”

  “Aye, then that’s settled.” He actually felt excited for the adventure. “I’ll borrow some horses after dark.”

  He grinned at her jauntily and she reached up on her toes to give him a kiss on the cheek. Feeling reckless, as if none of what was happening was real at all, he took her by the shoulders and kissed her on the mouth.

  With a gasp she started to pull away, but then relaxed into him, putting her hands tentatively on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her neck and cupped the back of her head, twining her thick hair between his fingers.

  When her mouth opened with a sigh, he slid his tongue inside, gripping her tighter. For a moment, she was his, then she went stiff and pulled away, looking horrified.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, and ran into the hut.

  He paced around the tiny yard, frightening a straggly chicken with his muttered oaths. Why had he pounced on her like that? It wasn’t like him. He shook his head and kicked at a log that had rolled free from the pile. He had to get a grip.

  He sank back onto the bench and leaned over, putting his head in his hands. Had he agreed to steal two horses and take this girl to Edinburgh? With a groan, he realized he had.

  ***

  They had the clothes on their backs and a fair amount of coins that Pietro didn’t have the first inkling what they were worth, or even what they were called. Some of them appeared to be gold, and that reassured him.

  Bella didn’t seem at all concerned about the money situation, and he hoped it was because the money she had was indeed a good amount, and not that she was used to everything being taken care of for her.

  She seemed capable enough, but she also had a certain kind of nonchalance he could only attribute to ignorance of reality. He had to laugh at that thought, as none of this could possibly be real. And yet he muddled on.

  He sighed as he pulled off his boots, and warily eyed the mattress. Being in this time made him feel less of a man, and he didn’t like it. He didn’t even have a weapon of any kind.

  Bella had talked him out of going back to the barn that evening to steal the horses. She’d remembered a hunt that was scheduled for the guests that would kick off the following morning at dawn. The woods would be overrun with people on horseback, shooting at anything that moved, but it would leave the castle nearly empty of able-bodied men.

  They would go down the long way, avoiding the woods, and he could nab the horses while she tried to slip into the kitchen for some food.

  “Won’t they have missed ye?” he asked her.

  “They think I’ve gone with my husband on one of his mad errands. I left a note explaining such. There will only be trouble if he is already returned.”

  “What if he is?” Pietro asked.

  She seemed awfully calm. She shrugged and reached around awkwardly to loosen her undergarments. “We must pray he is not.”

  She sagged tiredly, having spent the day trying to repay the hospitality of the old lady by hauling water, gathering up eggs and wringing the necks of chickens.

  Pietro had gotten an alarming thrill watching her grab one of the bedraggled hens and kill it in short order, with barely a blink. She’d tossed the feathery corpse onto a stump and made off after another one.

  To keep from being recruited for such a gruesome chore, he had quickly grabbed the axe and started chopping firewood. He was a bit stiff and sore himself. It had been a surprisingly enjoyable day, working side by side with her, and he’d almost completely forgotten the stress over his circumstances.

  “Let me help you,” he said, moving around behind her and leaning over to see how the garment worked in the dim light.

  He started tugging on laces and found it was loosening. She eagerly tugged it all the way off and tossed it onto the chest. Her dress was already half off, hanging around her hips in an unwieldy heap of fabric. There were still dozens of buttons to be undone, and he popped them open one by one, and helped her wriggle out of it.

  “Thank ye,” she sighed, taking a deep breath and collapsing onto the mattress in her loose shift.

  Now that the lace up thing wa
s gone, he could see her skin through the thin fabric, and he hurriedly turned away.

  After staring with aversion at the hard packed dirt floor, he decided to give the mattress another chance. He sat down on the other side, unable to hold in a grunt of pain as he tried rolling the kinks out of his shoulders.

  Even with the hard manual labor of caring for horses, he’d grown soft when it came to chores like chopping firewood. He much preferred it to be delivered by one of the villagers who made a tidy side business of it in the winter time.

  Soft hands gripped his shoulders from behind and began to knead away his aches. She scooted closer, rolling her fingers forward and up the sides of his neck, and his head lolled forward at the sweet release of his stiff muscles.

  The heat of her body seeped through his shirt as she leaned into him, and he felt the slightest brush of her shift against his arm.

  “Ah, Bella,” he said wistfully. Just the sound of her name on his lips caused him to tighten.

  He was nearly overcome with the urge to reach behind him and slide his hands up the backs of her thighs, pushing away her shift so he could feel her skin. He clenched his hands into fists in his lap and tried to chase those thoughts away.

  “Will I be your husband in Edinburgh as well?” he asked, his voice coming out more mocking than he meant.

  “I am sorry for that,” she said.

  He shook his head. “Ye needn’t be. But what will ye do there?”

  She massaged his shoulders, pressing her thumbs between his shoulder blades, working her way up the sides of his back and down his arms, prodding his sore biceps.

  “I shall live with my aunt,” she said, her words trailing off wistfully.

  He realized that she didn’t know what she was going to do beyond hoping her aunt would take her in. The futility of her attempt at freedom struck him forcefully. She would maybe get a week before her husband caught up to her, forced her to return, and live out a life of misery.