Kissed by the Laird (First Ladies of the Fae Book 1)

by Sydney Sloane

  This time he did not speak, but whipped Damon around and slammed a fist into his jaw. Delilah jumped out away from the assault, and out of Damon’s reach. “Go. Mo Daol is in the study, and she will attend ye.”

  Still lying upon the rushes of the great hall floor Damon cursed. “Damn ye, MacLaine. The bitch has something I require.” Delilah froze mid-stride at his words.

  “Is there any truth to his claim?”

  She pursed her lips in annoyance, and then answered. “Nay. What he seeks can only come from, Diana. I cannot give him what he seeks. ” Then she was gone a moment later.

  “Get up Campbell. Ye have stretched our hospitality to its limits.”

  The other guards returned and now stood at Calum’s back. Campbell staggered to his feet wheezing and grasping his chest. Blood trailed from the corner of his mouth as he swayed and knocked into Calum. He pushed the drunken fool toward Seamus and Ivor. “Get him out of my sight.”

  Seamus nodded at the command and dragged the swaying man with the help of Ivor. Though he struggled to break free, he ranted for all to hear. “She lies! She has the power to give me what I need. Ye do not understand, MacLaine. She’s a witch like her whore of a sister.”

  Calum shoved the belligerent man. From over his shoulder, Damon continued to scream in the direction Delilah disappeared. “Ye will help me witch! When ye least expect it, I shall be there and when I do ye will aid me with your magic potions like yer sister before ye. Then ye will help me retrieve this book yer sister has gone on about for weeks.” He bent at the waist to take in a shallow breath, and shouted. Spittle flew from his mouth. “Do ye hear me? If ye do not I will see ye burned! Burned!”

  “Get him out of here, now!” Talk of magic and witchcraft had been his concern all along. Jesu, Mo Daol! If she was not careful, she might find herself on a stake, right alongside Delilah.

  Campbell’s mention of a book startled Calum. It couldn’t be a coincidence. At the edge of the corridor, she stepped out of the shadows and pierced him with a stormy glare. Campbell was referring to the Tir Nam Famhair, Jesu, it canno’ be possible. Had they all gone mad?

  She nodded in acquiescence, as though she read his thoughts. The single motion from her raised the hairs at the nape of his neck. He could not help, but close his eyes as he made the sign of the cross again. When he opened them…she was gone.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Warm rain trickled down her face as she lay upon the sun-kissed grass near the water. A warmth radiated throughout her entire body. A gentle breeze blew as the scent of bluebells tinkled her nose. The feel of Ian’s large hand lay upon her hip, as they soaked up the highland sun. Without warning, he pressed his cold, wet nose against her ear, and…

  “Ahhhhhhh!” Caroline threw herself back from a huge, gray beast that loomed over her. Before she realized the animal’s next move, he lolloped in the direction she had crawled and watched as its long, pink tongue waved from side to side. A second later, he dragged his warm tongue across Caroline’s bottom jaw.

  The sound of her laughter drowned out the familiar voice coming from behind. “Arrow! Come to me!”

  The bright sun shone high against the pristine, blue backdrop of the sky. A salty breeze tossed strands of her chestnut hair across her eyes. Tucking the errant locks behind her ears, she brought a hand to shade her eyes, looked up, and was met by a giant silhouette. The large, darkened image stepped forward, and blocked the sunlight and allowed her to make out the face. Ian.

  “Sorry, lass. I turned my back for a moment and he could no’ resist waking ye. It was no’ the welcome I had planned for ye, but at least my brother’s hound approves of ye.” Ian gave her a smile, while he scratched the enormous dog behind an ear. If the beast stood on its hind legs, he’d stand as tall as a six-foot man would.

  Had they done it? Caroline slowly spun, as she took in the picturesque scenery all around them. Bright red, gold, and orange leaves still clung to the tree branches and interspersed with the vivid green pines. Were they really back in his time? With a quick blink of her eyes, their journey began. “Is this it? Are we…?”

  “Aye. My brother canno’ be far, if Arrow has come all this way.”

  That is when she noticed the tall stones that formed a circle around them. “What is this place?”

  He reached a hand down and pulled her onto her feet, and the blood rush to her head at the quick ascent.

  “Tis the standing stones. We are a mile or so from Moy.” He pointed to a worn path beyond the circular structure.

  Sounds of gulls cried overhead. Caroline watched them float on air for several heartbeats as a strong gust filled the space beneath their wings. The surroundings were not unusual, especially for someone who spent most of her life in a coastal, ghost town like Harpers Cove, Maine. Caroline inhaled a deep breath and took the clean salt air into her lungs. She closed her eyes and let the sun above kiss the tip of her nose. With her arms spread wide, Caroline twirled within the stones, smiled, and absorbed her untainted environment.

  When she opened her eyes, Ian stood smiling.

  “Sorry.” She blushed. “Everything is so clean here…fresh. I feel rejuvenated with just a single breath of this air. It’s amazing.”

  “No need to blush. Yer response to my…our home pleases me much.”

  Home? His words quickly put her decision into perspective. The familiar feel of the coast and beautiful scenery was one thing, standing stones and four hundred year old warriors were another matter. Without warning, the skin on her neck and arms prickled with gooseflesh. Something watched them. She could sense a presence lurking in the surrounding atmosphere, or was it the mystical tales she had read about these ancient pillars and druids.

  A hammering began in her chest, as her eyes drew to a copse of trees to her right. The colorful array of yellow, red, and brown leaves swayed, but soon slipped away. A vision and she stood alone. Evil surrounded them, and beckoned to her from beyond the shrubbery. Overpowered by its pull, she was about to step forward when the sound of Ian’s voice broke through the trance.

  “I can see your mind wandering, Caroline.” He came up behind her and placed steady hands upon her shoulders. As reality sunk in, Caroline lifted her hand and grabbed his hand needing the warmth of its security.

  Arrow trotted up beside them and lapped at her hand. Good thing I’m not a germaphobe.

  She leaned back, lifted her head, and looked up at him from over her shoulder. “It’s nothing. I thought…” Arrow tore off barking down the path Ian pointed out earlier. “Well, what’s gotten into him?”

  Ian grimaced. “Tis no doubt my brother, Calum.” He let out a groan of disgust near her ear.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “Aye, whatever ye do, lass do not move from this spot. I will be needing a bit of extra plaid tae save my dignity, and even more of my pride.”

  She cringed and scrunched up her nose at the memory of this hulking warrior who stood in her kitchen in a shrunken kilt. “I’m sorry, Ian.”

  “Aye. I know ye are, but not as sorry as I will be when Calum gallops over that knoll in the path and sees my plaid hiked above me knees.”

  Fuzzy, gray fur bounded back up the path, this time towing a man near to Ian’s height and frame. He had the same dark hair, though this man wore it a bit shorter, the ends curling below his ears. When Arrow spotted her again, the playful hound barked loud and clear, as though he announced his master’s presence.

  Arrow’s incessant barking drew closer, as Ian recognized the sound of several horses approaching at a causal pace. Instinctively, he placed a hand on the hilt of his claymore wanting to be prepared for anything. A moment later, horse and rider trotted over the knoll in the dirt path, as Arrow barked wildly at his side. As though his stare willed it, Calum lifted his head and looked straight at him in disbelief.

  “Ian. Ian! Tis ye!” He kicked the horse’s flank into a trot and left a trail of dust in its wake.

  “Calum!” He raised his arm in
acknowledgement.

  With the horse still moving forward, Ian’s brother dismounted and pulled him from behind Caroline, into a tight embrace. “Jesu Ian! Do ye know the fright ye have given us all? Tis been near on three weeks since ye disap…“Bloody hell! What happened tae your plaid?”

  Ian could feel the heat rising to his face, but before he could answer, Caroline stepped forward to stand in front of him. With a hand on her hip and a finger waving in Calum’s face Caroline spouted off, “It’s not his fault! I’m the one that shrunk it, so do not even think about razzing him about it.”

  Calum’s eyes darted down to the affronted voice. “Tis that so, lass?” His brusque tone invoked a challenge. Ian’s brother looked up to him and asked, “Is this the slip of a lass that has caused such an uproar?”

  Ian pulled his shoulders back with pride and gave a resounding, “Aye!”

  Unsure of his brother’s reaction, Caroline stepped back and met with Ian’s chest. Ian responded by placing a protective hand upon her shoulders. It unnerved him when she shuddered beneath his grasp. That she feared anything, especially after he vowed to protect her with his life troubled him.

  Any snide retort Ian’s brother had brewing would have to wait. Two more horses crested the knoll revealing, Delilah and his grandmother. In a matter of moments, his humiliation would be complete. As though she read his mind, Caroline shifted in his arms and caused him to look down. The pensive look in her eyes, and the wavering smile near did him in.

  When Calum turned toward the two approaching women, Ian lowered his head and whispered in her ear. “Do not mind my brother, Caroline. He jests.” When she nodded, Ian continued. “Do ye see the grand lady upon the dapple gray mare approaching?”

  “Yes. She is lovely. You know her?” Caroline’s eyes never left the women, except for a split second when Ian slid back behind her.

  “Aye, I know her verra well. She is my grandmother, Mo Daol. Would ye like an introduction, lass?”

  At the sound of his name, he drew up to his full height, as his elated grandmother approached.

  “Ian!” For the second time that day, Ian was pulled from his hiding spot behind Caroline. There was a warm embrace, before his grandmother pulled back and looked up. Her face was alight with joy, and her eyes misted. Beginning with his face, she examined every inch to ensure he was well. When Mo Daol was assured he was real and not some illusion she spoke. “Tell me true. The key lead ye to the Tir Nam Famhair….and” His grandmother’s attention turned to Caroline. Her face brightened with excitement and asked, “Is this her? The lass in your dreams, Ian?”

  Ian’s cheeks heated at his grandmother’s questions. He would answer all Mo Daol’s questions in time, but now he was relieved to be home with the deed in hand.

  He nodded and then asked. “Have I really been gone three weeks? How could that be? I was not even gone, but a night.”

  Delilah stepped forward. “The magic is strongest when the moon is full. When ye left, it was not expected for another three weeks.”

  So much time had passed and his thoughts turned toward Argyll. “What of the earl?”

  His brother winced. “The last I saw him and that irksome nephew of his they were going tae the king.”

  “Let him.” He bent over and pulled the yellowed parchment from his boot.

  “Ye have retrieved Moy’s deed, so we can be rid of that confounded Arg…” She halted her question the sight of his bare knees. “Och, Ian your nearly undressed!” Pulling him down for a private exchange, Mo Daol said “Tis not proper, ye being alone with a lass with verra little covering ye.” She clucked her disapproval.

  Ian chuckled and whispered into her ear. “Do ye think I do no’ know this, Mo Daol? There was a small accident from where…” Caught up in his grandmother’s welcome, he realized he had not introduced Caroline properly. “I have forgotten my manners. There is someone I would like ye to meet.” He took the older woman’s thin hand and directed her toward Caroline.

  Before he could make the proper introductions, his grandmother released her hand from his own and went right to Caroline. With a firm hand, Mo Daol cupped Caroline’s face. “My Ian, he saved ye did he no’”

  “Yes, but….” Still caught in the woman’s tight grasp, Caroline looked toward him for help, her knitted-brows mirroring his own.

  “Mo Daol, I think it best if we get back to the keep before ye interrogate the lass.” For once, he was relieved his grandmother did not question him, and as she turned back, he spotted the swath of plaid she held under her arm. “Mo Daol do ye carry that extra tartan for me?”

  “Oh Ian, forgive me! The sight of ye was not enough, I needed tae reassure myself that ye were indeed here in the flesh. It completely slipped my mind.” She handed him the plaid and continued. “Delilah saw in the scrying bowls that ye would have need of a new tartan, tis why I brought it.”

  They all turned toward Calum when he released a guffaw of disbelief.

  A crisp autumn breeze whipped around them, and Delilah stepped forward holding a woolen cloak. “M’laird. We have a wrap for your lady.”

  “The scrying bowls?” He took the much-needed wrap from the Fae woman’s hands.

  “Aye. It showed me of your return, and…” She reddened before even mentioning the shortened tartan.

  His brother interrupted Delilah. “I will not stand hear listening to her witchery.” Calum spun on his heel and went to his mount.

  Annoyed with his brother’s rudeness to Delilah, he made a mental note to speak with him when they returned to Moy. Ian gave Delilah a reassuring smile. “There is no need for an explanation. Ye have my appreciation…for everything. It was not my intention to have been gone so long. It could no’ have been easy for ye to deal with my pigheaded brother, in my stead.”

  Delilah shot his brother a smug smile and said. “Nay, it was no’, m’laird, but I have survived worse.” As soon as she spoke the words, his brother threw his leg over his saddle and mounted. Delilah chuckled at his annoyance.

  Calum’s irritation was palpable, and though it drew his curiosity, it would have to wait. Stopping Argyll from claiming Moy was the first quandary on his list to rectify.

  When he looked back at Caroline, she gave him an understanding smile and reached out to caress his arm knowing he was anxious to remedy his attire. However, he needed to see to her comfort first. He took the dark woolen cloak, and he placed it around her shoulders. The very short clingy braies that emphasized the curve of her hips and backside was not a sight he wanted to share with anyone. The tight tunic she wore clung around firm round breasts. Never taking his eyes off hers, he tied it off at the neck and made certain her exposed flesh was covered. Even if her attire were acceptable in his time, he would still cover it from the eyes of other men. Until he could devise a ruse for her presence at Moy, it was best to hide the strange clothing from his clan. However, another emotion emerged from his core, because what lay beneath the wool cloak was his, and his alone.

  As he made a few last adjustments, he placed a gentle kiss upon her lips and spoke. “If ye will excuse me a moment, while I make myself more appropriate. Then I will show ye our home. What say ye, lass?”

  Smiling, she gave him a nod and replied. “Yes, I would like that very much.”

  Beyond the standing stones, the sounds of the voices carried on the wind. Silently, Diana watched through the copse of trees. She had a clear view of the dark-haired woman that stood before Ian. Though the girl’s attire was odd, she was very comely. When Diana had seen, the young woman and Ian appear within the center of the stones she had pushed the scene to the far recesses of her mind, but now it came forward. Could this woman be involved with the ancient prophecy? Damn if the Tir Nam Famhair and the Fae were not working their magic once again. She was about to dismiss the old tale, when dark eyes stared back. And she shall have the sight. Her breath hitched, and she stepped back to hide in the thick brush. Could the guardian be this young…and a woman? It cannot be possible.
>
  Diana turned away from the foretelling scene, but froze when that old bitty, Mo Daol made reference to a key. Could she be speaking of the key that hung from Ian’s neck? All these years and no one made mention of the old, bone-carved key, only the Tir Nam Famhair. Was the key not just a trinket, a family heirloom…and why had her only sister not shared this information with her? If there was any hope of getting back in Ian’s good graces, she needed that damn book and now perhaps this key, more than ever. This could be her one chance.

  Returning to the small break in the branches, she laid eyes upon the strange woman again. An icy energy charged down her spine, and her flesh pimpled. Everything inside told her, that this half-naked woman was the guardian of the prophecy. Where had she come from? Did the Tir Nam Famhair conjure her up, as it had Mo Daol fifty years ago? And what connection did Ian claim to this woman? Her answer came when Ian protectively enveloped the dark-haired lass to him, and kissed her lips. Jealousy clawed from the inside of her chest walls. This was not possible. Ian was to be hers, and all who got in her way would pay.

  Short, angry breaths flared through her nostrils. With each passing second, the rage within her roared. Diana closed her eyes and attempted to rein in her volatile temper. Visions of a dagger plunging into the strange lass’s back played over and over in her mind. The sight of the woman’s life-blood seeping into the earth was the only thing that would sooth her irritation.

  As her breathing returned to normal, a callous grin slowly spread across Diana’s face. “Aye, I will see it done. Nothing will stop me from claiming Ian. “Once I have the book back…and the key, I will send ye back from whence ye came. I will be the next Lady of Moy.” All she needed now was a well-laid plan.

  Opening her eyes, she watched the group mount their horses and Ian took the lead. Then as quickly as they appeared, they were gone. The sound of a twig snapped behind her, and she whipped around and came face to face with Damon Campbell. She gasped his name, “Damon.”