Highlander's Charm
Page 4
Yes, never in her life had she been this relaxed with a man. “So, do you have any interesting moles yourself?”
“Nay, but I do possess a curious looking birthmark on my right cheek.” He smoothed down her side, over her hip and cupped the curve of her bottom. “Right about here.”
“You’re getting rather touchy-feely.”
“So are you.”
Because she couldn’t damn well help it. She tip-toed her fingers down his bare chest. Ties partly unfastened, his pants sat low on his hips. “What’s your birthmark look like?”
“Take a guess.” One sly grin. “Or would you care to see it?”
“I would say yes, but maybe another time, when I’ve known you for longer than a few short hours.”
“A sound idea.” He dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “Tell me more about this place you call home.”
“I live on the other side of the world, in a country as yet undiscovered. Sydney is a bustling city where buildings are far taller than this castle and they stand row upon row.” But she’d rather learn more about him. “What’s it like living here?”
“’Tis my home and I would live nowhere else.”
“It must be nice to have a home.” Without Nanna, she now had none. Their small apartment certainly hadn’t provided her any solace since Nanna’s awful disappearance. She lifted up onto her elbows. On the bedside table, firelight flickered over her talisman and lit the inscription. “Is it possible to find the fortuneteller who gave you your charm? Since they’re identical, she must have been the one to give Nanna mine. She may be able to impart more knowledge.”
“She vanished mere moments after handing it to me. Although she spoke of having another charm to gift, and she’d see it done.” He stroked her cheek and stared into her eyes. “You’re now in my care, and I gladly offer you my protection. You will always be safe with me.”
“I know.” Deep inside her, that knowledge rang with truth. Except he was still a MacLean, her enemy. Nanna had used the last name of Cunningham, as she would too. Until she learnt more, she’d take every precaution.
“’Tis been a long day. You should rest.” He settled her back against him and tucked her head under his chin. “I’ll watch over you.”
She closed her eyes and drifted, so content within his arms.
“Goodnight, Calum.”
“Aye, ’tis a good night, my charm.”
Chapter 3
Sunlight slivered through the wooden shutters over Calum’s narrow window and woke him too soon. Lila slept in his arms, her heart beating against his and bringing such peace to his soul. Charms and wishes had brought them together, but they were bound by far more. She was his.
“Calum?” Rubbing her feet against his legs, she mumbled his name. “Is it morning already?”
“Shh, there’s no need to awaken.” If he could, he would hold her all day.
“There is when I have to find Nanna.” She wriggled until she escaped him then arms raised, stretched and let out a contented sigh. “Mmm, I love the mornings. They’re my favorite time of the day. So many possibilities lie ahead. Don’t you think?” Her cheeks were rosy and pink, and the sprinkle of freckles across her nose made his fingers itch to trace them.
“I prefer the nights when my duties are done and I can rest, as I did last eve.”
“Have you had any more visions of things to come?”
“Nay, and you?”
“Nope. I even had an undisturbed sleep, which hasn’t happened since Nanna disappeared.” She tweaked his nose. “You don’t snore either. A bonus.”
“You’ll need to take care how you speak. There are many who will question your strange words.”
A rap sounded on the door. “Calum, ’tis Colin.”
Good. His brother had returned from Tobermory. “I’ll meet you in the chief’s solar. I willnae be long,” he called out. He shoved his bedcovers aside, strode to his trunk and dragged on a tunic.
“Who’s Colin?” Lila crawled out of the covers and hopped off the end of his bed.
“My brother, the one I spoke of last eve.” He nabbed his plaid, wrapped it around him then secured it with a silver pin across his chest.
“Can I meet him? Where’s he been?”
“On watch along the coast.”
“Watching whom?”
“John MacIan of Mingary. He’s our greatest threat. Following John’s marriage to Lachlan’s mother, my chief tossed him into our dungeons. Lachlan believed John could be swayed to our side with the alliance, but his support toward his MacDonald kin remained unwavering.”
“I read about John MacIan’s nuptials with Janet Campbell.” A wary expression crossed her face and she eased back a step. “Please tell me you didn’t have anything to do with slaughtering MacIan’s people on his wedding night.”
That black night, Lachlan had attacked without warning, moving swiftly from chamber to chamber. He’d murdered MacIan’s attendants where they’d slept, and when Janet’s screams had pierced the night, Calum had jerked awake and flown from his bed. “I was too late.”
“What do you mean?”
“When I arrived at Janet’s chamber, Lachlan stood over MacIan, ready to slay him where he lay. Janet begged Lachlan for leniency, but he wouldnae listen. ’Twas fortunate Colin arrived moments after I did. It took both of us to subdue him.”
“Your chief butchered eighteen people and all because he didn’t get the alliance he wished for?” She shivered and rubbed her arms. “I wouldn’t blame John MacIan if he desired retribution. How could you condone such an action?”
“I didnae condone it, but I gave my chief my oath. Virtue mine honor. I am loyal to him and my clan.” She clearly didn’t understand clan loyalty, and now wasn’t the time to explain.
“Then perhaps the king is the only authority on this land who can adequately bring about justice. He has a far greater force, an entire army at his disposal compared to those of the clan chiefs.”
“Highlanders fight for what is theirs, and the king shouldnae be permitted to rule over all of Scotland.” Though there was also truth in what she said. Times were changing, and the clans would eventually have to move with that shift. Needing to hold her before he left, he backed her against the wall and planted his hands either side of her on the cold stone. “You may no’ agree with my actions, but there’s naught I can do. MacIan was released within the year, and now we await his vengeance.”
“That’s a terrible way to live, to always be at war. I can see I’ll need to take great care while I’m here, but I can and will look after myself. Where I come from, women do.”
“My oath to you stands firm. You have my protection and my aid.”
“Thank you, but I’m strong in my own right.” She ducked under his arm and walked to the window. With each step she took, his shirt molded itself sweetly to her bottom.
His cock hardened and made him wish for what he’d seen in his vision from the cave. She’d lain before him, a plaid pooled around her hips as he’d traced her beautiful mole with one finger. “I’ll send a maid to you.”
“I’d appreciate that.”
’Twas best he leave before he no longer could. Quietly, he closed the door behind him and trod down the passageway. His heart grew heavier with each step he took away from her.
At the base of the winding stairs, he beckoned a serving maid forward from where she wove around his men seated at the trestle tables.
She dipped her head as she approached him.
“There is a lady making use of my chamber. Ensure she is given adequate clothing, a meal and a bath.”
“Aye, sir.” She hurried away.
He stepped across the great hall and entered the chief’s solar. His brother stood near the hearth, his hair an unruly mess and his fur vest damp with the morning dew. He clasped Colin’s shoulder. “I see you rode hard through the night.”
“Aye, I left Neil watching Mingary. What’s this I hear about you bringing a lass into the keep?”<
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“I fished Lila Cunningham from the sea and have offered her my aid in finding her grandmother. Mistress Jean journeyed through here a month past. Do you recall her?”
“I do. She spent a great deal of time with Margaret.” His brows drew together. “Lila? That is the name inscribed on your coin.”
“The old woman’s prophecy has come true. Lila also holds an identical charm to mine, one her grandmother gifted her after receiving it from a fortuneteller.” He reached into his pocket and palmed his charm. It hummed with warmth, alleviating a touch of the dark mood that had invaded him since leaving Lila upstairs. “Some form of magic has brought her to me from the future, the year twenty-fourteen, and since her arrival, the two of us have had visions.”
“Twenty-fourteen? That’s over four-hundred years from now. How is that possible?”
“I cannae say. I only know there is magic at work. Our bond is strong.”
“You must take care. The clan wouldnae understand.” With a concerned look, Colin scraped out a chair from under the table littered with the seneschal’s accounts and sat.
“Aye, neither of us can speak of what I’ve learnt.” He took the seat opposite. “What news do you bring from Tobermory?”
“MacIan continues to build his ranks. A birlinn bearing Angus MacDonald’s flag arrived at Mingary the first night I arrived. It remains berthed at their sea-gate.”
“Then it appears MacIan intends to have his MacDonald kin aid him.” No surprise, yet not news he wished to hear with their ranks so severely depleted from their battle on Islay. “Readying our men has become imperative.”
“Which means you’ll no’ have time to find your lady’s grandmother with what’s about to come.”
“Aye, she can wait.” He’d certainly never allow her to travel with the danger of war in the air, not when she was his to care for.
His clan and Duart must come first.
* * * *
“Hector, show yourself now.” An anxious female voice filtered through the window.
Lila flung the wooden shutters open.
Below, a woman with long locks of red-gold raced through the inner courtyard, her red velvet skirts flapping behind her. She braced her hands against the trunk of the towering tree right under her window. Peering upward, she searched through the thick branches sweeping the side of the castle. “I know you’re up there, Hector. Please, this isnae the time for play.”
“I’m keeping an eye out for Father.” A muffled voice called back from somewhere within the dense golden foliage. “He promised he’d come home. I’ll see him better from here, Mother.”
“I’ve explained he’s in Edinburgh. ’Tis too far away to see.”
“Why did the king have to steal him?” The leaves rustled and a lad with a mop of red curls and big blue eyes crawled out along the branch leading toward her. He glanced at her then wobbled. “Who are you?”
“I’m Lila, and be careful.” She wedged sideways out the window and offered him a hand. “Let me help you.”
“I need Calum.” He clawed the branch. “He’ll fetch Father home. He’s no’ afraid of the king.”
“Hector!” The woman clutched her chest. “Down now. This second.”
“I—I—” He tried to back up but his arms shook.
“Wait. I’ll be right there.” Lila swung her legs over the stone windowsill then shimmied onto the branch. The child must be no more than seven, and far too young to be climbing trees of this height. She crawled toward him. “I’ll help you find Calum.”
“I miss Father.” Tears swam in his eyes.
“I’m sorry your father’s not here.” She grasped him around the waist.
“Hector, I’ll be right back with Calum.” The woman dashed into the keep.
“How do you know Calum?” A spark of curiosity crossed his face.
“Last night, he rescued me.” She held the boy close.
“From this tree?”
“No.” She smiled. “The loch. I was out swimming, and got into some trouble.”
“Calum’s teaching me to swim. He’s strong.”
“Hector. Lila. Neither of you move.” Calum jogged across the courtyard and swung up onto the lowest branch. He scaled the tree, and on the bough next to theirs, eased across then lowered to his haunches. “As nice a day as it is for tree climbing, you two shouldnae be out here.”
“S-sorry.” Hector launched himself at Calum and he caught the boy and sat him beside him. “Lila said you rescued her too.”
“Aye, it appears ’tis what I do best. Now, no more tree climbing for you.”
“I miss Father. Mother does too.”
“We all do.” He ruffled the boy’s red hair. “He’ll return soon. The king cannae keep him forever.”
“Calum, please send him down.” Hector’s mother twisted her hands in her skirts.
“He’s coming, Margaret.” He tucked a loose shirttail into the boy’s breeches then turned him around. “Crawl, but take care. We’ll speak more about your father once you’re down.”
“I’ll be careful.” He snuck back along the branch, climbed down then dropped into Margaret’s waiting arms.
Margaret smiled at her. “Thank you. Lila is it?”
“Yes.”
“Jean Cunningham spoke of you.”
“She did? I’m coming down too.”
Calum grasped her from behind before she could move. “Nay, you’re no’ dressed.”
“Calum’s right,” Margaret called. “I’ll be up shortly, right after I’ve taken care of Hector.” She turned to her son, hooked an arm around his shoulders then led him back into the keep.
“Inside with you now.” Calum spread his hands around her waist and angled her toward the window.
Together they crawled inside to a buzz of activity. During her tree climbing, her bath and meal had arrived. Two lads in loose brown tunics poured steaming pails of water into a tub set before the hearth, and a maid with a gown in hand, draped it over the end of the bed. They bustled out and shut the door behind them.
“I ordered this for you.” Calum pulled out a chair before his desk where a tray had been laid.
“Thank you. Tree climbing certainly fires the appetite.” She sat, lifted the small bowl of honey and swirled it over top of the hot oats. “It’s been ages since I’ve had porridge. I have a terrible habit of sleeping in, so I usually grab a snack bar and eat on the run.” She slid a spoonful into her mouth. Delicious, and it tasted exactly like Nanna used to make on those cold winter mornings. She held out a second spoonful for him. “Would you like some?”
He caught her hand, brought her spoon to his mouth then slid it sensuously between his lips. “Where do you run to?”
“The train station. In the future we have these big steel contraptions that run on long metal tracks and carry passengers. People all over the city ride the trains to work.”
“You dinnae ride a horse?”
“Sadly, I’ve never even touched one. There are far faster means of getting about than on a horse.” She took another spoonful. “What news did your brother bring?”
“MacIan’s ranks have grown with the aid of his MacDonald kin. With an attack so close at hand, I must prepare my men.” He brushed his thumb along her cheek. “Which means my plans have changed. You must remain here until ’tis safe to search for your grandmother.”
“I can’t. I don’t know how long I have in this time. Every minute counts.”
“Aye, though remain you will.” He stood and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “I’ll leave you to your bath afore the waters cools and return at midday after training. You’ll stay here, within Duart’s walls.” He strode out the door and shut it quietly behind him.
She’d enjoy her bath then speak with Margaret. She’d remain only until she knew where to go.
She peeled off his borrowed shirt, stepped into the tub and eased her head back against the rim. The water sloshed to her chin, and the alluring fragrance of roses wafted in
the steam. Heavenly. She scooped the soap and washed away the salt still clinging to her skin from the night before.
A knock sounded on the door. “Lila, ’tis Margaret.”
“Come in.” Not wanting to miss this conversation, she slid under the bubbles, covering herself adequately.
Margaret walked in with a posy of lavender in her hand. “I apologize for disturbing your bath.”
“No, we need to speak. I’m eager to hear about my grandmother.”
“Aye, she said you would come.” She set the flowers on the side table then perched on the chair before the fire. “She confided in me.”
“How did she know I’d come?” She sloshed water over the rim as she sat up. “Tell me everything.”
“Jean spoke of the faraway place you both came from.” She clasped her hands in her lap. “And I mean the future, a realm beyond my imagination.”
Gosh, Nanna must have trusted Margaret, even though she was married to the MacLean chief. “Keep going.”
“Afore I wed Lachlan, I too was a Cunningham as your grandmother was. We’re kin.” She dipped a finger under the red lace edging of her bodice and freed a gold necklace. The disk dangling from it was engraved with the image of a unicorn, the same mythical creature that graced Nanna’s necklace and the Cunningham clan crest. The pendants appeared so similar. “Because of our close ties, we formed a bond of trust, one I would never break.”
She rose, and lifting her skirts, knelt at the edge of the tub. “There is folklore surrounding those born under a falling star, that they have stunning silver eyes and magic flowing in their blood. When they make a wish, with all their heart and soul, that wish may be granted.”
Nanna had often spun that childhood tale, but she’d never imagined any truth in it. Yet if she and Nanna had been born with magic in their blood, it might explain how they’d both ended up in the past. Her wish had certainly been made with all her heart and soul, and she had silver eyes.
“You’re here, and magic brought you did it no’?”
“Yes, I think you’re right.” She touched Margaret’s keepsake. “How come your pendant looks so much like Nanna’s?”
“This necklace was gifted to me by my father, William Cunningham, the sixth Earl of Glencairn. He commissioned one of these keepsakes for each of his five daughters and we received them respectively on our wedding day. ’Tis been a tradition carried down through the generations. Jean acquired hers as an heirloom from her Cunningham father on the day she wed. Look.” She turned the trinket over. “Margaret is inscribed on the back of mine.”