"What the hell kind of question is that?" Alex asked, forcing the words through his clenched teeth.
"It's just... well, I don't think the people here wear underwear as we know it. If anyone sees your boxers..." she paused at his upraised eyebrows. "Okay, if anyone sees your briefs, they'll know something is wrong. Get rid of them as soon as possible."
"I canna believe that I am sitting on a horse somewhere in godforsaken Scotland listening to a woman tell me to get rid of my underwear."
"I'm only trying to help," Maggie explained as she tried not to laugh at his discomfort. "I'm trying to cover all the details I can think of, since we agree that this might be real."
"I know. This whole thing is just too much for my brain to handle." Alex shook his head and urged his mount into action again, catching up easily with the group.
"It'll work out, Alex, just hang in there." Maggie tried to sound soothing, but she was just as confused and worried. Then she realized what she had asked someone she had met only hours before. Was he wearing underwear? Luckily, his attention was back on the horse and the path, so he couldn't see the blush that once more must surely color her cheeks.
"Look, we come to the village." Alex pointed as they passed through the last edges of the thick forest and into a clearing, the point of no return for them. Maggie leaned carefully to one side and peered ahead.
Looking like a picture out of a medieval storybook, closest to her were clusters of small cottages with thatched roofs. She could see smoke and hear the telltale sounds of a smithy in the distance. Farther up the hill, a dark gray stone keep with a high wall grabbed her attention. It wasn't the make-believe village she had hoped to find. It was larger than she'd expected, and it looked solid and defensible... and dirty! The squawking of geese, the barking of dogs, the snorting of pigs, and the obvious odors of their refuse hit her like a brick wall as they approached the village border. She grimaced at the earthy smells.
"I wonder where they're keeping the infamous Scottish sheep?" Maggie asked under her breath. Alex chuckled but didn't respond.
As people began to gather along the sides of the road leading through the cottages, Maggie saw the gap-toothed smiles, the well-weathered skin, and the premature aging that were shared by the inhabitants. Living in this time was so hard that it made the people old before their time. But, without fail, each man, woman, and child raised their hand in greeting to Alex and her.
The warriors urged their mounts into a gallop as they approached the wall of the keep. Alex kept their horse to an even pace, and they were soon passing through the gates into an-all-too-real Scottish medieval keep.
"I'm afraid we're not in Kansas anymore, Toto," Maggie uttered as she faced the unbelievable situation.
"I'm afraid you are right, Maggie. Verra afraid."
Chapter 6
Maggie resisted the urge to clap her hands over her ears when the warriors began to shriek their battle cry, but instead, she clutched Alex's waist even tighter. The doors to the keep swung open wide and an older man and a girl took their places on the steps leading up to it. The man raised his arm in greeting, and a broad smile brightened his life-toughened face. Alex drew in the reins and brought the horse to a stop at the landing. Brodie ran up to them and pulled Maggie from the horse's back. Alex then dismounted. She tried to keep up with him, but Brodie's unyielding grip on her upper arm kept her a few steps behind. Frowning, she looked at him and struggled to get free. Brodie just shook his head and held her tighter. To avoid any more pain, she ceased struggling and turned her attention to the top of the steps.
"Is that Struan?" she whispered.
"Aye, that's the laird, Alex's faither," Brodie answered quietly.
Nodding her head in the direction of the girl standing off to the laird's side, she raised her eyebrows in question.
"Aye, that is his betrothed, Anice MacNab, a fine Scottish lass, if ye ask me." Brodie smirked as the insult sank in.
Maggie yanked her arm unsuccessfully one more time, then watched the scene unfolding in front of them. Alex had reached the top and paused in front of the man. Even if not true father and son, the resemblance was strong between them. Alex knelt on one knee and bent his head. She could barely hear his words when he finally spoke.
"I'm home, sir." Alex spoke in that accented English she was beginning to like.
"I can see that much. I do not expect ye home without the king. How is it that you are here and he isna returned to Scotland?" The man's gruff voice could be heard clearly by the crowd that had gathered. Alex raised his head and looked around. Everyone was waiting for his answer. Before he could offer one, the laird pulled him up by his shoulders and embraced him. "Weel, no matter. 'Tis good to have ye back any time. Ye can tell me more inside after some food." Turning to the crowd, he called out, "Ye can all greet my son after our evening meal. Now, go back about yer work."
The crowd started to disperse, and Maggie tried to follow Alex. Brodie again held her in place. She looked up and saw the laird motion to Alex and nodding, Alex stepped over to the girl standing behind Struan. Anice was dressed plainly but well. Wearing a plaid skirt and bodice with a white blouse under it and a plaid shawl over it, she looked like a typical Highland lass. Anice had obviously prepared herself for Alex's arrival; she looked freshly scrubbed and young. Her long, red hair was bound back with only a ribbon and her face was glowing when Alex finally approached her. She dropped into a perfect curtsy and lowered her head and eyes demurely. It was at that moment she looked directly into Maggie's eyes.
Maggie instinctively stepped back when she saw the hatred in Anice's glance. For once, Brodie's rock-hard body behind her was to her advantage. Maggie regained her balance and waited for the rest of the scene to unfold.
Alex reached out to Anice and assisted her in rising. He leaned over and kissed her hand briefly. Struan burst out laughing at the sight. He smacked Alex on the back and warned him, "Ye been wi' the English too long, Alex. Ye are acting like a damned courtier instead of the good Scottish lad ye are. Kiss her, by God, she's been waiting long enough for ye."
Alex hesitated briefly and then drew Anice into an embrace and kissed her on the mouth. It seemed to last an indecent length of time, but Maggie knew it was only a few moments in reality. Brodie must have felt her tension because he again whispered in her ear, "Ye better get used to it. That's the woman that'll bear his name and his bairns. And, believe me, she'll not be liking ye any more than ye like her."
Maggie gasped in outrage and stomped on his foot. Brodie laughed loudly, drawing attention. Alex and Anice looked down at them briefly before Struan urged them inside the keep. Alex looked from Anice to Maggie and saw the anger in both women's eyes.
"Brodie. See to her?" Alex called down to them.
"Aye, Alex, I'll see her settled." Brodie nodded.
Instead of following Alex and the others into the hall, Brodie directed her around the building to the back. His grip had loosened a bit, but Maggie felt a band of bruises already forming around her upper arm from his grasp. He walked briskly through the dusty courtyard, pulling her along, until they reached a busy door in the back.
"This is the kitchen. Ye can find food and drink in here. Then I'll take ye to the laird."
Maggie swallowed slowly. "The laird? Why are you taking me to him?" He shook his head at her, and she knew she was missing something.
"The laird will decide what yer duties will be when ye are not servicing his son."
She was so angry at his crude comment that, without thought, she wrenched her arm from his hand and backhanded him across the face. Brodie stepped back, not from the force of her blow but in complete surprise. She could tell the exact moment when the shock turned to anger. His freckled face flushed a bright red and then he stepped menacingly closer to her.
Without hesitation, he grabbed her hair in one hand and her neck in the other. Forced to stand on her toes because of his height, she wobbled, off balance. Choking and fighting for breath, she clawed at
his hand, trying unsuccessfully to break his hold.
"Now, I'll let ye get away wi' that once, seeing that you are not one of us. But be warned," he shook her head to emphasize his words, "I do not want to hit a woman. But do that again, and I'll see ye laid flat in the dirt wi' the back of my hand. Do ye know?" He waited for her to respond, and Maggie forced her head up and down. She could hardly breathe in her position.
"If ye are going to be staying wi' Alex for awhile, ye better learn yer place. The laird will find ye duties that will keep ye out of Anice's sight. The less she sees ye around the keep, the better for all concerned. Now"— Brodie let go of her and Maggie slid down the wall at her back, gasping for breath—"let's go inside."
"Brodie, ye should be ashamed of yerself. Picking on a lass half yer size."
Maggie, still taking in huge gulps of air through her injured throat, watched as the giant who just manhandled her turned into a huge, cuddly bear. She looked up to the source of the voice to see who had caused this metamorphosis. A petite girl with bright blue eyes stood at the door to the kitchen. A few wisps of pale blond hair escaped the kerchief that held the rest of it back. She smiled at Brodie and he just seemed to shrink. Turning to Maggie, she reached out a hand to help her up.
"Sometimes Brodie does not even know his own strength. Ye must be Alex's le— Begging yer pardon, but I do not know yer name." The girl blushed as she realized what she had almost said.
"Maggie. My name is Maggie Hobbs. And you are?"
"Rachelle. I work in the kitchen. The laird said to get ye some food and let ye rest while he's talking wi' Alex. Come wi' me." Rachelle led her into the busy kitchen, past the gawking workers, to a small wooden table in an alcove. "Sit here, and I'll see to yer food."
Rachelle had barely moved away when Brodie took a seat across from her. She looked directly at him, and to her surprise, he had the good grace to blush. Deciding that the best defense is a good offense, Maggie made her move.
"So, should I tell Rachelle that you've offered to take me off of Alex's hands when he's done with me?" Maggie couldn't help smirking at Brodie's obvious distress.
"I was only having a bit of fun wi' ye and Alex. Ye shouldna be taking everything I say to heart."
"Should I take your threat seriously?"
"Oh, aye. I meant that. But ye have a good backhand for a Sassenach." Brodie smiled as he rubbed the redness on his face where her blow had landed.
"Should I take that as a compliment?" Maggie asked.
"Aye, that's how it was meant." Brodie leaned back a bit and looked her up and down. "Can we cry peace afore Rachelle gets back and blisters my ears about what I did to ye?"
Affecting an accent that came close to his, Maggie answered, "Oh, aye, Brodie, peace." She offered her hand to him, and he accepted it in a strong grasp.
"Peace, then."
"Weel, that's a better sight to see than the one that greeted me outside the door." Rachelle approached the table with a large tray of food. Brodie reached up as she got closer and helped her ease the tray onto the table.
He received a warm smile in thanks from the woman who obviously returned his feelings.
Maggie looked over the selection of food and saw a chunk of hard cheese, a small loaf of bread, and two bowls filled with some kind of stew. She sniffed the hot concoction, and it smelled reasonably appetizing. She waited for Brodie to start.
It didn't take long for him to begin. First he brought out a dagger from his belt and cut off two pieces of the yellow cheese. Then he broke the loaf into two pieces and offered her a piece. He took one of the bowls and used the bread to scoop up the stew. Enjoying the food, Brodie soon disregarded her presence and attacked his meal with gusto.
"Would ye be wanting to use a spoon for yer stew?" Rachelle asked. "I put one on the tray for ye." She moved the remaining items on the tray and found it. "Brodie does not let a spoon slow him down."
Maggie laughed as Brodie lifted his gaze to Rachelle and grunted his response. Rachelle left for a few moments and came back carrying two leather mugs, which she placed in front of them. Brodie again wasted no time sampling his, and Maggie could smell a beerlike aroma as he drank from his mug. Maggie wrinkled her nose and slowly reached for her mug.
"Do not worry, I brung ye water to drink. I wasna sure if ye like ale or milk."
"Thank you for all of this," Maggie said, gesturing at the tray. "I didn't realize how hungry I was." Rachelle nodded and went off on another errand. There wasn't any conversation between her and Brodie as they finished the food before them.
* * *
Maggie's attention to her food was interrupted by the loud clearing of Rachelle's throat. Subtlety was not something indigenous to the Highlands, Maggie thought.
"Brodie, I think Rachelle wants to talk to you."
"Thank ye, I hadna noticed." Brodie wiped his hands on his plaid, drank down the last of the ale in his mug, and pushed back from the table. Rachelle grabbed him and pulled him over to her so that no one could hear their exchange. From the finger-pointing and angry whispering, Maggie gathered that Brodie was in trouble for something. It was amusing to watch this giant of a man be put in his place by a petite, soft-spoken lass. He didn't stand a chance.
After watching them discreetly for a few minutes, Maggie looked around the kitchen for the first time. The table she sat at was near the storage area. One whole wall of the room consisted of three hearths, all equipped with black, metal pothooks or spits suspended over the fires. Those fires were being fed constantly as the various cooks and assistants prepared for the evening meal. Small boys carried pots, turned the roasts on the spits, or added wood to the fires to keep them roaring.
A dozen women of varying ages and sizes worked chopping vegetables or making dough. They laughed and joked in what sounded like Gaelic to her as they prepared different dishes for the meal. They were industrious workers. Maggie noticed that their fingers and hands moved as fast as their tongues did. Every so often, they would glance over at her and then comment under their breath. God, she wished she understood Gaelic!
Before she could investigate any further, Rachelle and Brodie sat down on the bench across from her. She looked from one to the other, waiting for someone to break the silence.
"Maggie," Rachelle began, "Brodie has something he wants to say to ye. Brodie?" Rachelle's voice deepened into a threatening tone, and Brodie was clearly uncomfortable.
"I beg pardon for handling ye so rough-like outside. I do not realize that ye would take offense at my words about yer... er... position here in the village."
"What do you mean by 'my position'?" Maggie watched as Brodie's face turned a bright red. He looked to Rachelle, who finally took pity on him. She reached over and took Maggie's hand in hers.
"Maggie, I do not know how things like this are done in England, but yer presence here is not out of the ordinary run of things. Lemans are just part of a clan's life. The laird's son is expected to marry for clan alliances, not love nor comfort. The only real surprise is that Alex chose an English woman and, if ye do not mind me sayin', an older one, at that, as his leman." Maggie tried not to take offense at being called an old woman. She knew she was one, for this time and place.
Brodie began shifting around on his seat as though it was the hottest surface on the face of the earth. Obviously, this talk of lemans and wives made him extremely uncomfortable.
"Brodie, why don't ye go check in on the laird and Alex? Mayhap, they need ye for something," Rachelle finally said.
Rachelle winked at Maggie as Brodie moved off the bench and into the main hall as fast as his legs would carry him. Maggie looked at Rachelle, and they broke out in laughter. When she could finally get her breath, Maggie had questions to ask.
"Are you married to him?"
"Not yet, be we will be verra soon." Rachelle answered like a woman who knew what she was after.
"Does he know that yet?" Maggie almost felt sorry for Brodie. Almost.
"Are ye planning on settin
g yer sights on him?" Rachelle asked quietly. "I do not think I could offer him what ye do, after all, yer so experienced."
"Rachelle, you heard about his offer to Alex, didn't you?" Maggie was disappointed that Rachelle would feel threatened by her, especially seeing how Rachelle felt about the big lummox. Rachelle nodded, her blue eyes wide and serious.
"It was said in jest, to goad Alex, Rachelle. I am here for Alex only, and if this doesn't work out between us, I'm going back to... England. I have family there." Rachelle released a deep breath, obviously relieved by Maggie's declaration.
"I believe ye, and I am pleased. I canna fight yer fair looks and yer experience, too. I feared losing Brodie if ye set yer mind to catching him."
First she was old and now she was coming off as a loose woman who would steal another's man! This conversation was doing wonders for her self-esteem, Maggie thought.
"I am not after Brodie. Brodie is yours, and I have no interest in him. Okay?"
"I do not know what 'okay' means. Is it an English word that we do not have in Scots?"
Maggie slapped her hands over her mouth as she realized what she had said. American slang words, especially modern ones, would be inappropriate here.
"Yes, it's an English word that doesn't have a word in Scots. It kind of means 'Is that acceptable?'"
"Aye, he's mine. And I'll say no more about it to ye or anyone else."
Brodie's loud footsteps approaching drew both of their attentions. He pointed at Maggie and motioned for her to follow him. Maggie felt the color drain from her face and her hands shook nervously. The laird had complete control over this whole village and everyone in it. His word meant life or death to all in the clan. And now, without knowing what Alex had said or done, she had to face him.
She stood up slowly and took a deep breath. It was then that she felt Rachelle grabbing her hand.
"The laird's a fair mon, Maggie. Ye have nothing to fear from him."
A Love Through Time Page 5
