Kaitlyn and the Highlander

by Diana Knightley

  There was a knock on the outer door of our bedroom. Magnus stopped still and listened. Emma's voice reached us. “Katie, your father is here with paperwork. He says you have a meeting with him?”

  I opened my eyes wide. “I forgot Dad was coming from the bank.” I slammed the shower off, grabbed two towels, tossed one to Magnus, called, “It will take me a moment, I'm still changing from the workout!” and pulled Magnus's hand to the bed.

  I dropped back and pulled him on top of me; there was no way I was missing out on this moment. He caught on immediately and entered me with a breathless rush. I held on, steamy skin, his hair the scent of lavender mixed with that scent he carried around always, musky and sexy. My legs wrapped around his back, deep breaths in his ear. His mouth heavy on the edge of my neck.

  He was fast. It was intense. His moan at the end made me feel powerful, desired, loved. Could it be? He hadn't said it, not really, and love takes time, right? But this was really, really liked. And I really, really liked him too. Deep.

  He pulled away and wrapped the towel around his waist. “Would you turn the shower on for me again?”

  I was sprawled naked on the bed, an arm behind my head, a grin on my face. “Is that why you married me, to turn on the shower for you?”

  “I married ye because I canna live without ye, mo reul-iuiel. Tis nocht to do with the shower.”

  Thirty-eight

  My father brought stacks of paperwork and one of the local lawyers. It looked like we would be at this for a while. It was basic name-changing, and adding me to the accounts, or so I thought, but in reality Magnus signed absolutely everything over. The lawyer asked about joint ownership, but Magnus asked if it meant we would both have to sign for withdrawals and deposits, and yes, there was a requirement that both partners signs for major changes. So he asked to have me made the primary account holder. Just me, alone. And so, form after form, Magnus signed off, and I signed on. Lady Mairead's name wasn't on any of the contracts which was good, but it seemed kind of final that he was giving it all to me as if he wouldn't be around to need it.

  This was an astonishing amount of trust. He was giving me everything, no questions asked. My father and the lawyer still spoke to him as if he was in charge though, crossing the paperwork to him, deferring to him, barely noticing my questions.

  It was past one o'clock when Dad and the lawyer left. That's how long it took for me to make a fortune. I was rich. Not just by marriage, but on paper, official-like.

  Zach was motioning us toward the kitchen where he spread lunch. Sandwiches, warm, melted, cheesy, yummy, exactly what we needed.

  During lunch Zach said, “Tomorrow is Fourth of July, Magnus, would you like to have a barbecue?”

  “I dinna ken, would I?”

  I explained, “It's the American celebration of our Independence. We blow up massive quantities of fireworks, have barbecues, and drink all day. Probably starting tonight. I actually expect the invitations to start any moment now.” My phone rang — Hayley. I said, “Hold that thought,” and answered.

  “Hey Babe, Quentin is on his way”

  “Perfect, thanks.”

  “And tonight Michael, James, me, and the whole gang want to give you a little wedding reception at the Cafe in the courtyard. Starting at four. We'll buy all your drinks.”

  “Let me ask Magnus, just a minute.” I held my hand over the phone. “Hayley and the gang want to throw us a party to celebrate our wedding at a restaurant. It won't be a late night.”

  “Would you like tae go?”

  “I would.”

  “Aye then, I could go out for a few hours.”

  “Your head feels better?”

  “Much. Chef Zach always makes me feel better. And other things.” He grinned.

  I returned to the phone. “Yes, we'll come, but probably closer to five. It will take me a while to get ready.” I remembered to ask, “Hayley, what are your plans tomorrow for the Fourth?”

  “Nothing, maybe James's house?”

  “What if we had a cookout here?”

  “That would be great, will Zach grill?”

  “You know it.”

  “Perfect.”

  I hung up and told Zach, “Yes, a cookout tomorrow, possibly ten to twenty people.”

  He asked, “Hotdogs, burgers, steaks, or chicken?”

  I picked burgers and suddenly, Zach and Emma and I were planning the menu for our party. I made the shopping list. They were going to do the shopping and literally everything else. I was very happy with this, being the decider not the handler of everything.

  In my relationship with Braden I came up with the ideas for each video then made them happen, buying the supplies, writing the script, even handling the tech issues when they came up. From idea to implementation it was always me doing everything, and at the end of the day, though I was only twenty and Braden and I were partners, I got to figure out how to feed us both too.

  Braden was pretty traditional in that he didn't give a shit how he got fed as long as someone fed him. Sadly my care-taking freed him up to spend his time dating someone else.

  I scowled down at my sandwich.

  Magnus noticed and asked quietly, “What is it?”

  “I was thinking about something, not a good thing, not you — Thank you for trusting me with your accounts, your money, everything. I hope I can figure it out. I'll have to learn how to manage it all.”

  He held out his hand and squeezed mine. “I figure ye are more qualified tae run the estate than I am, since I dinna ken half what your father was speaking of.”

  “Do you understand only half of what I'm talking about too?”

  “Nae, you are easy tae understand. Ye speak with your eyes.”

  “I do? Whatever does that mean?” Emma took my empty plate to the kitchen.

  “Means... I am nae certain. I can tell what ye mean though many of your words I hae never heard before.”

  “So like, you get me, that's nice; I like being got. I think I get you too.”

  He looked down at his plate. His smile seemed sad. He fiddled with his fork overlong and seemed thoughtful about something. He said, “I will need tae spend some time with Master Peters when he arrives. Before I get ready for the party.”

  Thirty-nine

  I showered again and this time put some effort into the work that needed to be done. Hair removal, scented drops, lotions, a pedicure. I put on a silky pale blue party dress. I worried it was overly dressy for the restaurant we were going to, but it fit the occasion — my wedding reception.

  He had spent a couple of hours talking security with Quentin and rushed in to get dressed.

  Emma had laundered his linen shirt. He wore a kilt of course. From the looks of his drawer he owned four now. I wondered where he got them, did they sell kilts in Jacksonville, or were they mail ordered? He spread the long tartan fabric on the floor, kneeled beside it, drawing it into pleats, then laid down on it and wrapped it around his waist.

  “Well, you aren't getting dressed in a hurry.”

  “Tis why we wear it all the time. I imagine twould be easier tae pull up a pair of pants.”

  “And what is that called?” I asked as he fastened on the bag thingy he often wore at his front.

  “A sporran.”

  “What do you keep in there?”

  “Wee bits and pieces of things.” He opened the top and pulled out his bank card with a grin. Then he sifted through it and pulled up the shark tooth I gave him the day we went to the Fort. “You kept it? That's so sentimental.”

  He nodded. “Aye, Kaitlyn Sheffield gave me the tooth of a monster, I plan tae keep it tae guard me.”

  “I'm Kaitlyn Campbell now.”

  “Och aye, ye gave me the tooth of a monster. I had tae marry ye. I'm nae a fool.”

  I pulled my bare feet up under me and sat on the bed watching him get dressed. Strapping on his belts — one around his waist holding the sporran, another holding the sheath for his dirk. He slid the dirk into it
with a fondness that was kind of thrilling to watch. He was so gentle and kind and good natured for all these armaments.

  He picked up his coat, pulled it on, and buttoned it up the front.

  “It will be hot for so many layers.”

  He nodded like he didn't hear me. “I might need it, I winna know.”

  Then he pulled out a wider belt with his sword's sheath and strapped it across his back. There was a steel circle at his chest, leather straps pointing in three directions, the sheath centered on his back. He picked up the sword that lay on the floor beside our bed, swept it over his shoulder, and shoved into the sheath.

  “What is that sword called?”

  “Claymore.” He ran his hands through his hair. He had grown quiet, his expression was pensive.

  I pushed my feet into a pair of strappy, overly high heels encrusted with rhinestones.

  “You can walk in such a verra high shoe?”

  “Boy, can I.” I strutted, catwalk style, across the carpet and back.

  He chuckled. “Och aye, ye can.”

  “It's cool with you that James will be there tonight?” I checked my makeup in the mirror.

  “James Cook is the easiest man in the world. He is much like my uncle and my cousins. I am used tae men like him.”

  I grabbed the keys to the Mustang off the dresser and we went down to the car.

  When we entered the garage, Quentin was waiting for us. I said, “Oh, is he coming?”

  “Aye, for protection.”

  “Fine, but—” I jangled the keys. I really liked driving the Mustang, and it was mine now, officially. Mine. I had been kind of psyched to drive it. My own, really nice, fast, sexy car. It was a convertible. It wasn't sensible at all, unlike my Prius in almost every way.

  Magnus smiled and said to Quentin, “Kaitlyn wants tae drive.”

  Quentin said, “Yes sir,” and slid into the back seat as I climbed in behind the wheel.

  “So, you're working for us now?” I looked at Quentin through the rearview mirror.

  “Yes ma'am.”

  “What the hell, Quentin, I am not your ma'am. I'm your exact same age. I've been in school with you since first grade. You have to call me Katie, same as always.”

  “Okay.”

  Magnus twisted around. “And I would like tae be called Magnus.”

  “Yes, sir. I mean, yes, Magnus — sorry guys this is going to take some getting used to.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, totally.” I pulled the Mustang out of the garage. I got to drive. I looked awesome. My new husband was hot. The party was all about us. Quentin called Magnus 'sir.' Plus, I had a designated driver for the ride home. The day had started out scary as hell, but this night was getting our honeymoon back on track.

  It was still daylight out, and would be for a while. It was hot, but not terribly. Eighty-eight degrees instead of ninety eight. In Florida you learn to be grateful for a few degrees of cool. And shade. And the bounteous awesomeness of AC.

  The restaurant was in the historic downtown just off Center Street on a little side street that barely anyone went down. The restaurant was popular though, the food delicious, the ambiance good. The outdoor patio filled an entire lot and was surrounded by a low two-foot brick wall. Open air, it was strung around and through with little white lights. At night it had the feel of a grotto, although I didn't really know what a grotto was. But even during the day the patio was nice, shady, cool, because huge oak trees grew right up out of the middle of it. Their roots busted up the pavement all around. The tables, about twenty, were all a bit tilted one way or another because of the marvelous trees.

  It had long been my favorite restaurant in the area. We were directed right to the patio where James, Hayley, and Michael had reserved six tables for the entire crew. Everyone I knew and then some were there and cheered when we walked in.

  As soon as we got to the table the bartender, Rob, beelined for us, “Hand it over.”

  Magnus sighed. “Tis always the same in these places. What if I need it?”

  “If you need it, you just ask for it. But seriously, it's Fernandina Beach; you don't need a sword. Promise.”

  Magnus handed the sword over but kept the sheath on his back, which was kind of hot, the straps stretched across his wide chest. The bartender continued to stand, hand out. “My dirk as well? Fine.” Magnus unsheathed the dirk he wore at his hip.

  “Jeez man, these are heavy.” Rob carried them away and put them behind the bar.

  James had his arm around a girl I didn't know. I was introduced to her, and then quickly forgot her name, because it was James, ex-boyfriend, philandering-ex-boyfriend. Plus I was a bride. Brides got to not care about anyone else; it was in the handbook. If he introduced me to her at a second event I would remember her name then.

  Michael poured Magnus and I beers from the pitcher, and then everyone held up their cups, “To Katie and Magnus and their super fast, overly convenient, arranged-marriage!”

  I said, “Hear hear!”

  James called across the table, “So how're you liking marriage, Magnus? Is our Katie giving you her green card?” He chuckled like that was a great joke.

  “Aye, I like it verra much. She's a bonnie lass.”

  I chugged the last half of the beer and swiped my arm across my mouth. “I think what Magnus is too polite to say is yes, I've given him the ol' green card and would give it to him again right now if there was a spot with some privacy.” I leaned down to look under the table.

  Magnus, James, Michael, the whole table burst into laughter.

  Hayley said, “I don't want to interrupt your honeymoon, which sounds awesome so far, but Magnus, I need to borrow Katie tomorrow, so I can hear all the steamy details.”

  I said, “You're coming to our place tomorrow for July Fourth anyway. We'll sneak away, and I'll tell you all about it.”

  Magnus began a conversation with James and Micheal about hiring Quentin and how he made Quentin sit just outside the restaurant in the car. They all thought that was hilarious. I was poured another beer, and Hayley and I turned our conversation to living in my new house. Amazing, of course, because I had a staff. I never knew anyone with a full-time staff.

  Hayley said, “I have a staff at work. But I don't get to order them around all day long, and I don't get to demand things twenty-four-seven. Having them around at night must be pretty weird. I mean, Zach lives there now. Emma. It's like you're running a little hotel.”

  “It's way better than a hotel; they make ice cream for us in the middle of the night, and I don't have to worry about the bill. It's not weird at all. It's awesome. The security guards work in shifts and go home to sleep.”

  “What happened to Lady Mairead?”

  “OMG I forgot to tell you, she left last night, in the middle of the night, and...” I glanced at Magnus. We hadn't discussed whether the story was one I could share. And it crossed my mind that it would freak Hayley out. It was frankly unexplainable. It might also expose my new husband to undo scrutiny. I didn't even know everything about him, yet.

  Hayley asked, “How'd she get to the airport, Uber or something?”

  “Yep, weird huh? Magnus said she probably won't come back, so yeah, I'm the woman of the house now.”

  “Well, I'll tell you what, girlfriend, that is the best news for you. You do not want your mother-in-law living with you. That would totally suck.” She raised a glass. “Let's chug.”

  We both gulped down our beers and giggled merrily.

  Magnus turned his attention back to me. “My head is beginning tae hurt from the noise.”

  I tore strips off napkins and wadded them up. He leaned forward so I could tuck them into his ears. “Have your ears always been so sensitive?”

  “Tis a recent issue.”

  James poured another couple of beers for us. The girl he was with leaned across the table to yell, “James tells me y'all got married for his green card? I would never be able to do that. Are you going to actually live toget
her or just pretend to be married?”

  Hayley said, “She's not pretending to be married, it was in a church.” She rolled her eyes and gave me the 'see what I have to deal with' look.

  “Well, James told me it was just business...”

  I looked at James with my brow raised. “Really, you have a lot of opinions for someone who doesn't know how to keep their pants zipped up.”

  He shrugged. “You should know. You were unzipping them just a few weeks ago.”

  He glanced at Magnus, “Sorry man, habit. Katie and I have a long history due to the fact that I was there first.”

  Michael's eyes went wide. “Shit James, the guy carries a sword. Keep your shit together.”

  All eyes were on Magnus.

  He shrugged. “I am aware of your long past history with my wife. But there is something ye need tae know about me. I was born a son of Clan Campbell. My father, I am told, is a king. My uncle is an Earl. My mother is a Duchess. My whole life I hae been ruled by men who rule simply because they were there first. But see, they will die. Or they will make the missteps of fools. And when they do, then I will take their crown and t'will be my turn tae rule as a king.”

  “What is that supposed to mean, are you saying you'll rule Katie?”

  Magnus chuckled “I think Kaitlyn is most unruly. I mean it dinna matter that ye were anywhere first, I am there, now, best.”

  Michael fell forward on the table laughing.

  James smiled. “Well, you are right about one thing, Katie being unruly.”

  I grinned. “I can be ruled, if the person is firm enough. Magnus does very well in that respect.”

  Micheal laughed so hard he fell out of his chair. “I wish Quentin was here he would be dying.”

  Magnus nodded and looked down at the empty plate in front of him. He said quietly. “I would wish tae add, Master Cook, ye hae a long history with Kaitlyn Sheffield, and I know she values your friendship verra highly, but in the future I expect ye tae show my wife, Kaitlyn Campbell, the respect she deserves.”