Charming the Highlander Laird

by Verlin Underwood

  “Oh, that is quite all right.” The man was English; the accent sounded similar to Nellie’s, as Tara’s sister-in-law had an English mother. But this man’s accent was a little more refined, with no hints of ever living in Scotia for any extended amount of time.

  “Now, tell me about this boy,” Rhona said.

  “Well,” the man paused. “Where do I begin? This boy’s mother was a selkie. She is now deceased, so I have been taking care of him since he was a newborn.”

  “Ah,” the witch said, as though that explained everything. “But there is somethin’ else yer not telling me, am I correct?”

  The man hesitated. “I don’t think it’s pertinent to the issue at hand,” he said tightly.

  “Aye, verra well. Continue, please.”

  “Lately, he has been drawn to the ocean, like he is being called to it. He almost drowned once, so I have to keep an eye on him, day and night.”

  Ach, no wonder he looks so tired, Tara thought.

  “His family is callin’ him back to the sea,” Rhona observed.

  “That is what I fear,” the man agreed. “I was hoping that you could perhaps give us refuge as he learns his powers. I am hoping he will eventually find a point where he won’t inadvertently put himself in danger.”

  “The boy can stay here if he chooses,” Rhona told him. “An’ indeed, he may learn a wee bit studyin’ what I have in my library. But I canna stop him from goin’ to the sea if he so chooses. Admittedly, I do not have experience with sea fairies like the selkies. It would perhaps be best if it were the selkies themselves who taught him his magic.”

  The man furrowed his brow. “But I have heard that there may be a chance he would not return if the selkies took him in.”

  “Aye, there is always the chance that he would prefer to live with his selkie family,” Rhona told him. “Like I said, the boy chooses where he wants to stay.”

  The strained silence made it obvious the man did not like that idea. He looked at the boy. “His home is here with me.”

  “What does Baldric have to say?” Rhona asked, indicating the boy who had sat quietly in his seat the entire time.

  The boy looked from the man to the witch. “I don’t wanna live in the ocean,” he said finally. “I don’t know how to swim!” The man wrapped his arm around the boy and gave him a smile.

  “I suppose that settles it,” Rhona said. “Will ye stay in Haddington if yer boy is to study at my church?”

  “Of course I will remain here.”

  “Verra well. He can start his lessons tomorrow, going over the basics of the Seelies and his people.”

  “How much do I pay you?”

  “I don’t ask for money. I give my knowledge freely.”

  “How do you manage? What do you do for food?” The man asked. Tara wondered the same question.

  The old lady chuckled. “I haven’t needed food nor drink for close to two centuries,” she told him. “It makes things convenient, that’s for certain.”

  The man seemed as shocked by her words as Tara was. How old was this woman? “All right then,” he said and picked the boy up in his arms. “We will see you tomorrow. Baldric, let’s go find a place to play, shall we?”

  “A selkie is a very peculiar creature,” Rhona told him. “They can’t help but be drawn to the ocean, even if they want to remain on land. I fear the same for this boy. But I will see what I can do. There may be somethin’ that I have not yet read, or an amulet I can make that will help him refrain from wanderin’ too close to the waters.”

  The man lowered his head. “Thank you,” he told the witch before leaving the room. Tara pressed herself against the wall as he passed by her. He took no notice of her hiding in the shadows as he took his leave from the church.

  “Ye may come in, Tara.”

  Tara cringed and poked her head sheepishly into the door. “You knew I was here?” she asked Rhona.

  “I knew the moment ye walked into my church. Sit down.”

  She sat in the chair that the man had just occupied. “Who was that man?” she dared to ask.

  “I do keep confidentiality with my clients.” Rhona’s tone of voice was admonishing.

  “Verra well. What did you find out about me, then?”

  Rhona took out her parchment with Tara’s blood and looked at it. “Indeed, the blood of the leannan sith is runnin’ deep in yer veins, lass, but there is also somethin’ much wilder in ye.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Whoever yer father was… he was no ordinary human. He was a Seelie—and he was a shifter.”

  “A shifter,” Tara repeated slowly, trying to recall all of what she knew about the fairies of the Seelie Court. “So that means he could change into the form of an animal?”

  “Precisely.”

  “An’ does that mean I can as well?”

  “Well, ye’ll have to figure that out.”

  “And how do I do that?”

  The woman got up and went over to a cupboard. She pulled out a jar and blew on it, sending a puff of dust into the air before walking back to Tara and handing it to her.

  Tara stared at it. “What’s in this jar… a bat?”

  “Aye, it is a bat. Worry not. It is verra much dead.”

  How disgusting, Tara thought. She wanted to drop the thing on the ground. “What do you want me to do with this?”

  “I want ye to change into a bat by nightfall.”

  Tara’s eyebrows rose high up her forehead. “Do you jest?”

  “Nay.”

  Tara stared mutely at Rhona for a good long while before finally realizing that she was, indeed, not jesting. “I’ll try. An’ what about my leannan sith magic? I have no control over it.”

  “Yes, ye do,” Rhona said simply. “Ye just don’t’ realize you do. Ye have no confidence in yerself, lass.”

  “Yes, I do…” Tara started to retort.

  “No, ye don’t, otherwise we wouldn’t be arguin’,” Rhona shot back at her.

  Tara began to refute that statement but stopped herself. Was it so simple that she hadn’t the confidence? Had she really had control over her leannan sith magic this entire time? It sure didn’t feel that way.

  “All right,” she told Rhona. “I’ll try to turn into a bat.” The words sounded ridiculous to her ears. Nonetheless, she took the jar with the dead bat inside of it and left the church.

  Haddington was crowded, especially in this early afternoon. If she were to experiment with shapeshifting, she would need to do it far from people.

  Tara found her way back to the bridge that crossed the river she’d stumbled upon yesterday. She’d since then learned that the river was called Tyne and that it snaked all the way east, eventually emptying out into the sea.

  She found a copse of trees near the river that seemed well enough away from the hustle and bustle of the town. She would very likely go unnoticed. She lay her breacan down on the grass and sat on top of it, pulling the jar out of her bag and staring at the contents.

  “How am I goin’ to do this?” she wondered out loud, not knowing whether to laugh or cry at the mere thought of trying to transform into a bat. Was Rhona perhaps actually senile and throwing a bunch of nonsense at her? She supposed that she should at least try and find out.

  She heard voices and the musical laughter of a small boy. Tara stood up and walked toward the bank of the river. Baldric and the man from earlier were on the other side of the river, behind a group of trees, playing on the grass. From her position, she saw that the boy had spread out a bunch of wooden knights on the ground. He and the man were imagining a fantastic battle, by the sounds of their hoots and hollers.

  Tara smiled to herself, suddenly feeling homesick for her niece and nephews back in Dunaid, but also for the joy of watching a father play with his son. She could tell how much the man loved the boy, and she felt sad that she had never experienced such a thing with her father.

  Ah, yes, the mysterious Laird Calum Maxwell. If Rhona told the trut
h, Tara’s father had Seelie blood in him. She wondered if he ever knew that fact. Did that make Adam a shifter as well? What about Adam’s children?

  Tara looked back down at the jar. Whether she was telling the truth or not, Tara had naught else to do today but try. She sat back down on her breacan and closed her eyes, focusing on the qualities of the bat: the large ears, furry body, and the long, sinewy, membranous wings. She imagined how they flew in the air, wings flapping more erratically than the gentle glide of a bird in flight. Very soon, her body started to feel light, like she was floating.

  But then she saw her mother, and the light feeling quickly dissipated. Tara could see that Una was no longer in Glastonbury, but much farther north. She was on a horse, making a decent pace, perhaps in Northumbria. In the vision, Tara was alongside her mother. Her mother suddenly turned toward her, as though she either sensed or saw Tara. Tara panicked and was about to break the link, but decided to stay.

  If it gave Dunaid some time, it was a good thing for the leannan sith to know where Tara now was. Perhaps Una would now make it to Haddington first to find her daughter, rather than going straight to Dunaid to lay waste to it. Tara could only hope.

  Tara opened her eyes to find herself in her still very human body. The sun had moved over the clouds and dipped toward the east. How long had she been in her vision? She no longer was able to hear Baldric and the man. She stood up on stiff legs and walked back over to the bank, but they were gone. However, the boy’s knights still lay scattered on the ground. Perhaps they’d gone for a walk. Tara sighed and went back to her breacan and picked it up, shaking off the grass and dirt before tying it around her shoulders.

  “Baldric! Baldric!”

  Tara’s body froze as she heard the man shouting. Suddenly, he appeared to her right, still on the other side of the river, with his child nowhere in sight.

  “Baldric!” he cried out again, his voice hinging on desperation.

  Did the little boy wander away? Tara tucked the jar back inside her bag and walked along the banks of the river in the opposite direction, looking for that tiny cherub of a boy. She remembered Rhona’s words from earlier.

  Selkie’s are drawn to water, aren’t they?

  But Baldric can’t swim.

  Her pace quickened, and she prayed that he had not made it into the water. Then, not too far in front of her, she heard a child crying softly. She pushed a few reeds away and noticed the boy, drenched from head to toe, curled into a tight ball, whimpering.

  “Baldric?” she asked softly. The boy lifted his head up and stared at her with wide eyes, as uncanny as her own eyes were.

  “How do you know my name?” the boy asked worriedly. He wiped his tears with the back of his hand, which was covered in mud from the river.

  “I’m a friend. My name is Tara,” she said reassuringly. “I heard your father call out to you, so I started searching for you. Your father is very worried. Let’s go find him.”

  The boy pulled himself up out of the reeds. “He’s…” he began but faltered. “I’m cold.”

  Baldric’s entire body was shivering, and his teeth clattered together. “Of course you are, swimmin’ in the river like that,” she admonished gently. She took her breacan off her shoulders and wrapped it around the boy. “Let’s get you back to your father, shall we?” She guided the boy back down the river toward the town and his father.

  The man was still on the other side of the river, calling out Baldric’s name.

  “Oy!” Tara cried out to him. “I found your boy!”

  The man turned and looked at her, causing Tara’s breath to catch in her throat. Aye, she’d noticed he was handsome before, but she didn’t expect to have that reaction just by meeting his eyes. Tara felt herself blush. Ach, this wasn’t the time or the place.

  The man’s eyes brightened with relief as he waded across the river toward them. Once he was on the their side, he took the boy immediately into his arms.

  “Baldric!” he said, embracing the boy close to him. “I told you to never leave my sight.”

  “I’m sorry,” Baldric mumbled. His eyes were filled with tears. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it.”

  The man kissed the top of the boy head and turned to Tara. “Thank you,” he said to her, his voice breathless and filled with gratitude. “If there’s anything I can do for you, just let me know.”

  “Oh, that’s fine,” Tara said. “I’m happy to help.” She couldn’t quite meet his gaze, as her heart hammered wildly in her chest. What was she doing? Why was she reacting this way?

  “What’s your name?”

  She risked a glance up to him. “My name is Tara,” she said.

  “Tara, I’m Colin. Are you from around here?”

  “Er… no, I’m from the Highlands,” Tara said. For a moment, she wondered if she should’ve revealed as much to him, but for some reason or another, she deemed him trustworthy.

  “Tara, let me treat you to dinner. I’m staying at the Frog’s Grog.”

  “Oh, I am lodged there, too,” Tara blurted out before she could catch herself.

  “I suppose that makes sense since it is the only lodging in town.” Tara liked the way the man smiled. He had sad eyes and a worried face, but when he smiled that all went away. She wondered if it was Baldric’s circumstances that made him seem so melancholic, or if there was something more to it.

  Well, it is not any of my business.

  She risked another chance to look at his eyes. Like Ealair’s, they were not glazed over. Perhaps Rhona was right, and she did have a handle on her leannan sith magic, or perhaps the man wasn’t interested in her. Still, she needed to be careful, especially since now she was seeing how her body reacted to this handsome man. This had never happened to her before, and it alarmed her.

  Well, she couldn’t have dinner with him that night, as she remembered Rhona’s assignment to turn into a sodden bat by nightfall. “How about tomorrow evening?” she proposed to him. “I’m a bit busy at the moment.”

  “That would be splendid.”

  “’Bye, Tara!” the boy said as he and his father turned to leave. “See you tomorrow!”

  Tara waved after them then stood there long after they were gone, wondering what had happened. She was attracted to the man, no doubt—more than she’d been attracted to anyone, but he did not seem enchanted. He left her of his own accord. Men she had enchanted followed her blindly until she found a way to escape from them.

  But Colin, as kind as he was, did no such thing. She felt the dark powers of the leannan sith surge through her veins at the thought of a man denying her advances, and that horrified her.

  I’m not like my mother.

  She swallowed her rage, jealousy, and pride. Rhona is right. I can control these powers. I will not let myself enchant the man, and I will not feel enraged if he doesn’t find me attractive.

  The thought of it made her laugh out loud, and she sat back down on the grass, realizing that Baldric still had her breacan. Luckily, the coming dusk wasn’t too cold. But she did have to hurry if she wanted to figure out how to change into a bat before nightfall. She took the jar out, this time opening the lid and putting the dead bat in the palms of her hands. She felt a bit ridiculous as she sat there with the bat, but perhaps keeping the creature in the jar was only hindering her progress.

  She closed her eyes, not only imagining but feeling the qualities of the bat in her hand, thinking about how it would feel to fly as the bat through and above the trees and river.

  When she opened her eyes, she realized that she was, in fact, above the trees and the River Tyne. She looked down to where she should have been sitting, but saw naught but the empty jar and the bat lying in the grass.

  I’ve become a bat, she thought with elation. She weaved playfully through branches and almost got stuck in a spider’s web, which caused her to tumble harrowingly toward the ground before her wings lifted her back up again.

  Nighttime was coming, and a few stars lit the sky. Her la
rge ears perked at a screech to her left. She turned her head and noticed that she was flying alongside a group of two dozen or so bats, scouring the countryside for food. She joined their hunt, swooping down in certain areas in search of bugs and discarded fruits.

  This is amazing!

  Tara did eventually grow tired and reluctantly left her group to fly back to her spot by the river. She was surprised by how effortlessly she was able to change back into her human form.

  She was so excited that she hardly slept a wink that night. In the morning, she practically sprinted to the church to tell Rhona about what had transpired.

  “Aye, I already know,” the old witch said before Tara could even open her mouth to speak.

  Tara’s mouth dropped open. “How?”

  “I know all of the magical happenin’s around Haddington,” Rhona explained offhandedly. “And ye were quite obvious about it, the way ye flew about the town.”

  Tara flushed. “I just never had experienced something so thrillin’ before,” she gushed. “I can’t wait to do it again.”

  “Wait until ye do it without havin’ a tactile aid.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I want ye to shift into a cat. But this time, I’m not goin’ to give ye a cat to hold. You won’t even be allowed to look at the creature. No outside help whatsoever, just what’s goin’ on inside.” The witch put her hand over her heart.

  Tara looked at her skeptically. “So do you want me to do this again by nightfall tonight?”

  “Well, don’t ye have a dinner to go to tonight?”

  Tara stared mutely as the woman’s face lit up with a toothless smile. “I told ye, I know all of the magical happenin’s that go on in this town. Practice it, and once ye’ve mastered it, come back to see me. Take however much time ye need.”

  She wasn’t sure that she liked the idea of someone knowing her every move. “Well, I don’t have all the time in the world,” Tara said. “Since you seem to know everythin’ already, how do I tell whether I have enchanted somebody? Will I see it in their eyes? That’s what I’ve always assumed, but I’m just not sure anymore.”

  “The best way to learn is finding the answers on yer own. I believe that at some point, ye would also figure out that ye were a shifter without my help. Like I said before, ye have no confidence.”