Highland Wish

by Colleen MacGregor

  We descend the stairs into a great room already full of people seated at massive wood tables, and all I can think is that this looks like a renaissance fair I attended once with my friends. Gone are suits and ties. No jeans or baseball hats. This is the real deal. Men have long hair past their shoulders or pulled back into queues. The women are in similar dresses to mine, each more beautiful than the next. And as I survey my surroundings, I realize it’s grown quiet and I’m the center of their attention.

  “There she is. Lady Katherine, come and join us. Ye must be famished,” Lord MacGregor calls out from the table.

  The woman at the head of the table rises as I approach to take my hands and kiss my cheek.

  “Lady Katherine, my husband and I are indebted to you. How can we ever repay you for saving our son? Anything you wish and it shall be yours.”

  The words tumble around my head as she takes me into her arms.

  “Thank ye, truly,” she says into my ear and pulls back to smile at me. Her smile is half-pained and I wonder why.

  “Please sit. We’re about to eat.” With that I sit next to Lady MacGregor and take a piece of cheese from my plate.

  “It must be verra painful to be the only one left of your kin to have survived the brutal attack by the Murrays. Angus came upon them on the road to Castle Crathes. No one was spared, I’m afraid. You poor lass. You’re verra lucky to have escaped.”

  “Crathes Castle, it’s near here?” I exclaim.

  “Aye. About a day’s ride,” Lord MacGregor replies.

  “I have no idea what I’m going to do now,” I say, and Lady MacGregor takes my hand.

  “You’ve a place with us for as long as you need, Katherine,” she says kindly.

  “I’ll protect ye, Lady Katherine.” Duncan stands and places his hand over his broach. He looks like a gallant young knight.

  After taking his seat, he weaves a tale about my abduction. Expertly weaving a story together entertaining the curious people around me. He pieces it together from what he thinks the story must be, and I nod my head. I can’t tell them the truth or they’ll lock me away somewhere.

  They seem satisfied by my story though I haven’t actually said anything, and they move on to the business of what to do with me.

  “Lady Katherine, I assume you can read and write,” Lady MacGregor says. I nod my head.

  “Good.” She eyes Duncan. “Because I know a little boy who could use a new tutor.”

  Duncan’s head pops up from eating his tart. He’s covered in some sort of sticky berry.

  “Tutor! I don’t need a tutor. I need to practice fighting with the guard. Angus is teaching me.”

  “Young man, if you’re going to be laird, you need more than combat skills. And you should know that Angus has traveled far and knows a few languages. You should ask him some time when you’re not busy with that bow and arrow.” She smiles and sips her wine.

  Duncan doesn’t look too happy about this but then again what little boy would be happy about being tutored.

  For now, I can play along and try to stay out of the way until I figure out a way home. I don’t have a plan B, heck, I don’t even have a plan A, but I certainly can’t stay here.

  We finish our meal and rise to go about the day. “Duncan, since Lady Katherine will be tutoring you why don’t you show her to the library.”

  “Yes, mother,” Duncan replies, and stuffs the rest of his tart in his pocket. I hand him mine and he takes it eagerly.

  “Good thing you have two pockets,” I say and wink at him.

  “Come lady,” he says around a mouthful of flaky crust and berries.

  “So Duncan, do you like to read?” I ask as we make our way down the stone hallway. My heart is beating in time with my footsteps.

  “Like to read?” scrunching up his face like he just got a whiff of broccoli, he takes a stance like he’s loading an arrow into a quiver, “Aye, I suppose so, but I’d rather be at the practice range than in the stuffy library.”

  Smiling, I reply, “It is a lovely day outside but I have to say that I love libraries. I love the smell of books and the feeling of paper under my fingertips.”

  My voice sounds whimsical as I dream of shelves filled with books.

  We come to a large wooden door at the end of the hallway and Duncan stops.

  “The smell of musty old books makes you dreamy eyed?” Duncan asks with a wicked grin on his face. “Then you shall swoon when you see this, but first, you must close your eyes.”

  “Close my eyes, why?” I ask.

  “You’re in for a treat, and when mother gives me a treat, she makes me close my eyes first.” Eyes dancing in delight, Duncan’s practically hopping with excitement.

  I squeeze my eyes shut and wait.

  Duncan giggles and I smile. A child’s joy is so pure. It’s contagious.

  The hinges squeak as the lock disengages. Duncan giggles more as he takes my hand.

  “Come lady Katherine. Are you ready?” Duncan asks.

  “Ready as I’ll ever be, Lord Duncan,” I say, and he pulls me forward. I put out my right hand to steady myself.

  “I’ll not let you walk into the wall, lady,” Duncan says, “You can trust me.”

  Taking small steps, I allow Duncan to guide me into the room. The only sounds are our footsteps along the stone. A ray of sunlight kisses my face in greeting and I raise my chin like a greedy lover eager for more. Breathing deeply, I smell them before I see them.

  Chapter 4

  “Ye can open yer eyes now lady,” Duncan says with a smile in his voice.

  “There must be thousands,” I say softly to myself as my eyes scan the seemingly endless aisles of books.

  “Aye, my father studies many things. He’s a verra learned man.” Duncan speaks proudly of his father.

  “Your mother reads too, doesn’t she?” I say as I’m drawn to a desk in the middle of the room. Covered with open books and maps, I want to get lost in this room among the worlds of words.

  “Yes. Mother reads me stories of our history and faraway places. She also loves her poems. The ladies love their flowery poetry.” He laughs.

  “Hey, that’s a sexist thing to say young man. Women don’t just love poetry. And men can like it too.”

  “What’s sexist?” Duncan asks. As I’m about to answer him, I feel a prickling on the back of my neck like someone is watching me. I turn to find the giant warrior, Angus, standing in the doorway behind us.

  “Duncan, yer wanted in the yard for training,” he says. With that, he leaves the room and I wonder why he’s so cool toward me. For the short time I’ve known him, he always seems to have a curious look on his face. I can’t tell if he wants to throttle me or if he just plain wants me. It’s funny the two feelings are so closely related. It’s also curious that he seems so familiar—like the eyes in my dream. Like our souls have known each other before.

  “I must go now,” Duncan says. “Training’s in the yard. Would ye like to come watch?” He asks me so sweetly I can’t bear to refuse him.

  “That sounds lovely, Duncan,” I reply.

  “Come then, I’ll bring ye back later. The books will be waiting.” Duncan reaches for my hand.

  “I’ll be along shortly, I promise. I’d just like to look around a bit more, please.” I give him my brightest smile and he blushes.

  “Alright then, come soon and watch me battle. You can cheer for me, aye?” he asks expectantly.

  “I’d love to,” I reply.

  Satisfied I’d be joining him, he hurries out.

  I take the opportunity to walk around the room. I can’t help touching the books. E-readers are great but there’s still nothing like holding a book in my hands, turning the pages. I walk to the desk in the middle of the room. It’s lar
ge enough to set maps upon it and I can’t help but wonder what the world looks like now. There are still so many unexplored lands and adventures to unfold.

  “What year is it?” I wonder aloud. Since I’ve been swept along by the tide of the McGregor household, I haven’t stopped to think about practical things such as what day it is or even what year. Taking a closer look at the maps, I search for clues as to the date.

  In the corner of one of the maps, the year looks smudged, but it’s sixteen something. It’s a place to start. I press my fingers to my temple to massage the headache that’s beginning.

  “There you are.” A happy blonde comes into the library to greet me. Medieval Barbie. Amazing.

  “I heard you were in here. I’m Lady McGowan but you’re to call me Claire. I insist.” She hugs me and kisses my cheek. I like her immediately.

  “And you shouldn’t be in the library when it’s so lovely outside. Come, I think there’s something more interesting going on in the courtyard. Will you join me?” Claire doesn’t give me a chance to refuse as she takes my hand and leads me downstairs. She’s giggling all the while, and I get the impression there’s more to the story than she’s telling me.

  Big blue eyes framed by lashes that a Kardashian would kill for and cheeks flushed with mischief not bronzer, Claire is nothing short of stunning.

  Clashing of swords, grunting, and shouting are a stark contrast to the quiet of the library. We turn the corner and stop in our tracks. The guards are standing in a circle around two men locked in battle.

  The sun, now high in the sky, blazes upon their bare chests. The warriors are covered in a sheen of sweat and bent on murder. I’m mesmerized at how powerful, yet graceful, their movements are. I’ve never seen anything like it. If I’m being honest, I’m less interested in their swordsmanship than I am in Angus, shirtless in battle.

  He belongs on the cover of a book. Hair pulled from his queue, gleaming with sweat and sporting a kilt, he’s quite the sight. Tall, broad shouldered, lean muscled, and tanned from training in the sun, he’s covered in a smattering of black hair along his chest and leading in a trail down his stomach.

  Holy Mother of God, he’s gorgeous. He’s focused on his opponent with such intensity—I wonder what it would be like to have all that directed at me.

  “You look like you could eat him alive,” Claire says a little too loudly.

  “Who? Angus? Of course not,” I say, but I can see out of the corner of my eye that she’s smirking. “I’m just admiring his swordsmanship.”

  I can hear Claire giggling, and I nonchalantly scan the area to see if anyone heard. I can’t take my eyes off him.

  As Angus raises his claymore to strike his opponent, he catches me watching him, and it’s just enough distraction for the other guard to get in a lucky shot. The next thing I know, Angus is on the ground with his face covered in blood. Uh-oh.

  Claire and I scream, and then look at each other. This is not good. As we start to back away, the courtyard quiets and every eye turns to me. The guardsmen can’t hide their smirks as they realize what distracted the captain of their guard. I don’t know that they’d ever seen him bested.

  Claire grabs my hand and pulls me around the corner. I hear the laughter and ribbing as we run.

  If he didn’t want to throttle me before, this oughta do it.

  We run straight into the kitchen where the women are working on dinner preparations. Pots are brewing, meat is roasting over the fire, and herbs hang from the ceiling. It smells amazing. It’s a shame I have no appetite.

  “Well, ladies, where are you running to?” the cook says as she stuffs a hen.

  “I’m saving Katherine from Angus,” Claire giggles.

  This has their attention. Times don’t change. Everyone loves to gossip. All of sudden, I become the center of attention. Thankfully, Duncan runs in grinning from ear to ear.

  “Beth, Beth! Ye should have seen it! Angus got knocked on his . . .” He stops mid-sentence.

  Seeing me at the table, his smile grows impossibly wide.

  “Och, Lady Katherine. You’ll have seen Angus then. I must say, he wasna pleased to see you.”

  “Duncan!” admonished the cook. “You’ll nay be speaking to her ladyship so. Why would ye say such a thing?”

  I fiddle with a sprig of something green and fragrant as Duncan relates the tale. The boy could certainly spin a yarn. Throughout his animated retelling, I keep my eyes averted from the gasps and giggles.

  “Well, I canna say I’ve ever heard of Angus flat out then, have ye?” Cook says with a sly grin on her face.

  I finally look up from the now demolished twig between my fingers to find the ladies of the room surveying me as only women can.

  “Nay, Beth, I canna say I have. I’ve ken Angus since he was a wee lad. He’s never caught off guard.”

  “Aye, he’s the fiercest, bravest man among the guard. He must have been quite distracted,” says one of the kitchen girls. More giggling.

  Now they’re all in on the conversation. I want to hide under the table.

  “Ah, there you are! I’ve been looking all over for you.” A lovely bright-eyed woman breezes into the kitchen grabbing a tart as she passes the table. She reminds me of Keira Knightley in Pride and Prejudice. I feel like a giant compared to these women.

  “You must be Lady Katherine.” She smiles mischievously at me.

  Claire introduces her friend. “This is Lady Margaret: Castle flirt.” The rest of the ladies laugh as Duncan steals her tart.

  “Nonsense. Dinna believe anything ye’ve heard,” she says as she winks at me.

  “But I’ve come to tell you that I’ve heard something,” she says, and looks at me with a crooked grin. “Someone distracted our captain during training.”

  They all look at me again. Does everyone know? How does information get around this fast without Twitter and cell phones? Amazing.

  She walks around the table to sit next to me.

  “So I’ve heard ye caught the eye of our captain.”

  “Oh, no. Not at all. I don’t think he cares for me,” I whisper to my twig.

  “Doesna care for you? None of the lasses at the castle have ever made him lose his concentration before, have they, girls?” Beth says, shaking her head at me.

  “I don’t really believe it was me who distracted him.” I begin to make my case.

  “It’s more likely that you distracted him than he let his guard down in battle. There’s a reason he’s the captain. Besides, do ye know nothing of men, Katherine?” Beth says as Lady MacGregor sweeps into the room. A glowing lovely woman; she reminds me of Angelina Jolie.

  “Lady Katherine, here ye are. I’ve been looking for you. Will ye walk with me? It’s such a lovely day.”

  I rise warily. Covered in herbs, I brush off my hands on my skirt and follow Lady MacGregor. I can feel the eyes of everyone in the kitchen following us outside.

  We take a leisurely stroll toward the garden. “So, Katherine, how are ye finding the castle? It mustn’t be easy being among strangers. I hope everyone is making you feel at home here. It is yer home now, if ye’ll have us.”

  She’s so kind and hopeful, but I have friends that are no doubt wondering where I am, probably frantic. What if they think the worst? If I can’t get back, I don’t think I have many options. Everyone has been so kind to me. I could do worse.

  I smell the garden before I see it. The fragrance is sweet and soothing. And as we come upon the grandeur that is Lady MacGregor’s garden, the riot of colors explodes into view. Every shade and every shape—hot pink, yellow, green, fuchsia, magenta, and deep purple, it’s like walking into a Monet.

  “This castle is built on ancient ground. It’s said there’s magic here if ye believe in that sort of thing.” She looks over her shoulder at m
e to gauge my reaction.

  “They say there’s spirits that travel between worlds. Stories have been handed down from my mother’s mother.”

  Between the worlds?

  “There’s one story in particular that I remember. The story of the Green Lady. She was a beautiful, quiet young girl that wed Lord Burnett. They were verra much in love. He had the garden and fountain built for his young bride. She would spend much time there in reflection. Then one day she went for a walk in the garden, and she was never seen again. All that was left behind were the coins she used to make wishes upon the fountain. It’s said her spirit lingers, searching for her love.”

  All the little hairs on my arms stand on end and I shiver, shaken to my core. I know that story. James told it the night before the wedding as we sat in front of the fire. Could it be true? If so, I have to get back to that fountain.

  Trying to calm myself, I breathe deeply of the lavender, roses, and lilies. I close my eyes, raise my face to the sun, and pray that the fountain is the key. All I have to do is get there and test my theory.

  “Yes, it is glorious, isn’t it?” I open my eyes to find her smiling at me.

  “I come here to think. The castle is always busy and noisy. Dinna misunderstand, I’m happy for we’re blessed with a lovely family, but every now and again I find I’m in need of some quiet time.”

  “This is all so beautiful. It reminds me of a painting,” I say. I wish I had my paints with me or a good camera.

  She eyes me curiously. “You’ve been well-educated then in reading, writing, and art. It will be good you’re tutoring Duncan. I canna help but think he’ll be in verra capable hands.” She pauses by some roses. “But what about you, Katherine? Have ye a man back home?”