Sworn to a Highland Laird

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Sworn to a Highland Laird Page 3

by Sky Purington


  “Welcome, Linds.” Milly rolled her eyes at Christina over Lindsay’s shoulder as Linds did her kiss-on-either-cheek thing then they embraced. “Thanks so much for coming.”

  Go get her something stiff to drink she mouthed to Christina. Pronto.

  Lindsay was a beautiful woman with her naturally white blonde hair and silvery eyes. Heads turned everywhere she went, and it wasn’t just because she was becoming more famous, but because she possessed a vibrant allure that drew women and men alike. A special energy all her own. She was, if anything, one of the most enigmatic people Milly had ever met.

  Lindsay fingered a tendril of Christina’s hair in passing and said, “Be a dear and fetch my things from the car?”

  Christina snorted and headed for the kitchen. “Fetch ‘em yourself, lady.”

  Lindsay smirked over her shoulder and scrunched her nose. “Too much then?”

  Milly held her forefinger close to her thumb and grinned. “Just a smidge.”

  “You’ve gotta tell me about this part you’re auditioning for,” Christina called out to Lindsay as Milly headed outside. As she suspected Lindsay’s suitcase rested near the front door waiting patiently as she made her grand entrance. She picked it up and was about to head back inside when a flash of light in the barn caught her attention.

  Curious, she headed that way, overly aware of how eerie it felt outside. Night had fallen, and the moon was in and out of clouds as trees blew in the cold wind. She had taken the padlock off the doors earlier, so they were banging on the sides of the barn now. Strangely enough, what she saw hadn’t seemed like a flashlight but fire. Maybe a lantern.

  As she got closer, she had the uncanny feeling she was being watched. That someone was standing there. Gooseflesh rippled over her, and her heart started to race. Was he here? Was her mysterious Scotsman turned Englishman back? Even as she thought it she realized she had let Jessie get inside her head.

  “Stop being a fool, Milly,” she whispered. “Just turn on the light.”

  Yet she didn’t right away. Instead, she stood at the entrance of the barn and stared into the darkness. Somewhere in the deepest part of her, she wanted him to be standing in the shadows.

  She wanted him to be watching her.

  Waiting for her.

  So despite how silly it seemed, she closed her eyes, inhaled deeply and murmured, “Where are you?”

  Long seconds passed and naturally nothing happened. Of course, it didn’t. She was being ridiculous.

  “What’s the matter with me?” she muttered and opened her eyes only to hear a deep rumble from directly behind her.

  “Come back to me, Mildred.”

  She spun only to find nothing there. Yet she had felt him. Heard him.

  It was clearly Phillip’s voice with a Scottish accent.

  “Milly, you coming in?” Christina called out. “I’m cookin’ up some Hush Puppies and She Crab soup!”

  Leave it to Christina to cook a good ol’ southern meal on a chilly New England night. But thank goodness for her right now or Milly might be scrutinizing her own sanity a whole lot closer.

  “Be right there, Christina,” she called as she shut the barn doors.

  When she turned to walk back, she stopped dead in her tracks. Did she just see light in the attic? The same sort she saw out here?

  “I’m just seeing things,” she muttered as she strode for the house. “I have to be.”

  Yet her eyes never left the attic window as the flickering light grew brighter.

  “Hey, you all right, honey?” Christina exclaimed as Milly burst through the front door and raced upstairs to the attic. Sure as shit, just like with the barn, nothing but darkness greeted her by the time she got there. If she were to truly entertain this insanity, she would do what she had outside. Talk to a phantom.

  But enough was enough.

  She was letting her imagination run away with her, so she flicked on the light.

  “I don’t remember bringing that up here,” Christina said as she joined her, concerned. “Do you?”

  “No,” Milly whispered.

  Chills raced over her again as she stared at the bench that had been sitting in front of the ranch. The very one she felt like she had sat on before. Except now she sensed something else. Someone had sat on it with her. Many, many times. There had been long conversations. Companionship. Deep love.

  But with who?

  “Hmm, odd. Maybe Jim grabbed it and didn’t tell us.” Christina shrugged. “Guess we’ll have to talk to him about his thievin’ ways.”

  Milly didn’t respond but kept staring at it, trying to remember, trying to grab onto something just out of reach.

  “Hey, you with me, hon?” Christina nudged Milly. “You seem out there.” She frowned. “You’re not lettin’ Jessie get to you right? God knows I love her, but she tends to frequent off the beaten path a little more than needed sometimes.”

  “No, I’m good,” Milly murmured and tore her eyes away from the bench. “Just...” What? Confused? Lost? Losing it? “Hungry I guess.”

  “Well, then sweetness, I’ve got just the thing for you.” Christina took her hand and pulled her downstairs. “You don’t smell it yet but you will soon.”

  Though Milly figured she would keep obsessing over the strange things happening, she forgot how entertaining Christina could be in a kitchen. It was a bit of work whipping up her menu, but she managed everything with a constant smile, and a ‘can do’ attitude.

  In the end, Milly figured Christina was not just a pro at cooking but delegating. Which meant propping Lindsay against a counter with a glass of wine and putting Milly to work. Jessie had zonked out and slept peacefully on the couch with a warm blanket and a crackling fire.

  “So I said, ‘Absolutely not!’ when they told me who was directing the movie.” Lindsay shook her head, disgusted. “I might not be where I want to be yet, but I still have standards.” Her eyes rounded on Milly. “Why would they think I wouldn’t? I’ve done nothing but top-notch work. My performances have become highly acclaimed.”

  “So I hear.” Milly smiled, took several sips of wine and blew Lindsay a kiss. “Congrats to you, beautiful.”

  “Thank you.” Lindsay’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, but she masked it quickly with yet another one. “Are you sure I can’t help with anything, Christina?”

  “Nope.” Christina refilled Lindsay’s glass. “Just keep on keepin’ on, sexy. Makes for good cookin’ entertainment.”

  Milly smiled and took another sip of wine. While they were all close, Lindsay and Christina, against all odds considering how different they were, really hit it off. Milly surmised they shared similar roots beyond Broun blood. Likely a difficult childhood. Though Lindsay was vague about her past, Christina had shared hers here and there. Her family didn’t have a lot of money growing up, and things had been tough.

  True to her word, the house soon filled with the smell of Christina’s cooking and not long after they were sitting at the small kitchen table enjoying delicious food.

  “Oh, this is sinful,” Lindsay said as she delicately nibbled on a Hush Puppy and closed her eyes. “I don’t know how you do it, Christina.”

  “Lots of practice.” Christina’s eyes met Milly’s. “Eat up, honey, it’s been a long day.”

  “Oh, I am,” she assured, enjoying the soup. “Then I’m off to bed.”

  As well as back up to the attic to study that bench.

  “I’ve got an air mattress,” Milly continued. “You two take the beds upstairs, okay?”

  “Forget that.” Christina shook her head. “I’ll be just fine on your loveseat. It’s super comfy.”

  If Milly knew nothing else about Christina, it was that there was no point arguing. Like Jessie, she had her own stubborn streak, and it stretched from here straight down to Virginia.

  “Thank you, Christina,” Lindsay said, still nibbling on the same Hush Puppy. “I do need my beauty sleep.”

  “Of course you do, darl
in’.” Christina winked. “Movies to make and better directors to find, right?”

  “That’s right,” Lindsay agreed. She finally gave up on taking tiny bites and popped the whole Hush Puppy right in her mouth.

  “There ya go, Linds.” Christina grinned. “Put some meat on those bones.”

  Once Lindsay finished and patted her lips, she said, “I could say the same for you. Based on your eating habits I’m amazed that you haven’t grown a tad thicker.”

  Christina smiled but said nothing. She was always close lipped when it came to why she was so fit. Call it humble. After all, she was the most active and admirable person Milly knew. Likely because of her upbringing and things she had yet to share, she ran a lot of marathons for charity and various disability fundraisers.

  As always when Milly spent time with her friends, she had an amazing night. They enjoyed a final nightcap of expensive red wine Lindsay had brought for her housewarming then everyone made their way to bed.

  Milly rested with the intention of waiting until the house grew quiet before heading to the attic, but she dozed off. Or at least she must have because the next thing she knew someone sat down beside her, gently brushed hair away from her forehead and whispered, “Come back to me, Mildred.”

  “Who’s there?” she mumbled as she blinked, and sat up. Moonlight dusted the corners of her bedroom but didn’t offer much light. “Christina? Linds?”

  Nobody answered because no one was there. Then she heard something else. Booted feet walking in the attic that sounded too heavy to be a woman.

  Once she and Jim split, he insisted she keep one of his pocket knives for protection, and she did. Right in her bedside table drawer. Though she wished it was a bit bigger and more threatening, it would have to do. Seriously, though, who was she kidding? As she left her room, she knew better. If she truly felt she and her friends were in danger, she would have called 911 immediately.

  Yet she wasn’t doing that, was she?

  No, she was creeping down the short hallway, prepared to face not a living, breathing intruder but something else altogether. Christina and Jessie were downstairs, so she checked in on Lindsay as she passed.

  “Oh sweetheart,” she whispered when she found her friend not getting her beauty sleep in a comfortable bed but curled up on the floor in the corner sound asleep. While tempted to get her back into bed, Milly had a funny feeling based on the turned down covers and lack of crinkles in the sheets that Lindsay was right where she wanted to be.

  Where she felt safest.

  Though she did not want Lindsay to wake up and be embarrassed, she had to do something, so she grabbed an extra blanket and covered her. She might be on a throw rug, but old houses tended to run cold. Especially the floors. She sighed as she eyed Lindsay one more time then shut the door. What the hell had happened to her?

  By the time she was back in the hallway, her mind was still so focused on Lindsay that she nearly forgot why she was heading upstairs. No sooner did she think it than light flickered beneath the attic door. Candle light. Just like before.

  “Fine then,” she whispered. “I’m coming.”

  Knife at the ready, she inched along, less frightened than she supposed she ought to be as she opened the door and peered up the stairs. The light didn’t vanish but continued to flicker, so she made her way up.

  Should she call out hello? Probably. But at this point, it seemed pretty silly. There wasn’t an intruder in her house. Not in the normal sense anyway. She was somewhat surprised by how readily she was accepting that.

  Though her breathing was shallow, Milly felt strangely calm as she started to climb the stairs. It was then, in those moments between the sixth and ninth steps that she started to remember a dream. In this particular dream, she didn’t run but walked slowly because she knew her treasure had waited and was finally ready for her. All she had to do was find it. Then all she had to do was look at it.

  That’s when she began to recall even more.

  A ring with two hands holding a heart.

  As a candle flickered on the floor in the middle of the room, she sank onto the bench seat and gazed around. She felt like a child again as she relived a dream that told her so much. This place, this attic, had been important. A lifeline for the Brouns. Their place.

  The heart of their magic.

  “Witches,” whispered through her mind.

  “We were,” she murmured and closed her eyes. “Are.”

  Then the candle snuffed out just like it had in the dream. Just like it had when she was a child. Because, somehow she was a child right now, wasn’t she? Caught in a dream and remembering.

  “Dinnae be afraid, lass,” came a young voice close to her ear. “If I’m not then neither should ye be, aye?”

  “Why aren’t you afraid?” she whispered.

  “Because I am right where I should be,” he replied. “And yer right where ye should be.”

  “That’s no kind of answer.”

  “But ‘tis my answer and all ye need for now.” He pressed a small box into her hand. “Now go hide this, aye, wee Mildred?”

  “Why are you calling me wee when you’re a kid too,” she asked.

  “Because ye’ll always be more wee than me.” There was a grin in his voice. “Now go hide the box.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, dinnae ye want to find me?”

  “No.” She frowned. “Why would I want to find you when you have a funny accent and won’t even tell me who you are?”

  “Because ye already know who I am.”

  “Do not.”

  “Och, but ye do.”

  She frowned and crossed her arms over her chest, never letting go of the box. “Tell me who you are.”

  “Come find me and I will.”

  “Come find you? But you’re right here.” She shook her head, not frightened in the least by the dark as long as he was there. “And aren’t I supposed to be hiding the box not playing hide and go seek?”

  “Just go hide the box, Mildred.”

  “My name is Milly.”

  “So ye dinnae want to find me then?”

  “I don’t have to find you,” she huffed. “Because you’re right here!”

  “Nay, lassie,” he murmured, sad. “I am not until ye hide the box.”

  Then he was gone.

  Just like that.

  Suddenly scared, sad and alone in the dark, she clutched the box. How was she supposed to hide a box when she couldn’t see a thing? The more she thought about it, the more she realized how many times she had hidden in this attic. In the dark.

  Waiting for someone that didn’t exist.

  Yet he did. Over the phone. In disguise. Out in the barn. On her bed.

  Up in this attic.

  Just now.

  What had she done with that box? Where had she hidden it? But she knew.

  “I never hid it,” she whispered. “I held onto to it and stayed hidden here until I woke up.” She shook her head. “But I never woke up...and I never let go of the box.”

  Aware that she was out of the dream and no longer a child, she squeezed her hand instinctually expecting to find the box gone. But it wasn’t.

  “Oh my God,” she whispered as the candle flickered to life. Her eyes dropped to the small, simple box in her hand. “It’s here. I have it. This is real.”

  That’s when she remembered the little boy’s last words. Ones she had long forgotten.

  “Find the ring and find me, lassie.”

  How many times had she opened this box in her dreams? How many times had she seen the ring inside?

  “A ring with two hands coming from opposite sides holding a heart encased gem,” she murmured. “A Claddagh ring.”

  Milly closed her eyes and inhaled deeply before she, at last, did something she had done many times before. She opened the box. There it was. A platinum Claddagh ring with a heart encased clear gem nestled between the hands.

  Though it had been far too large for her back then, no
w it looked to be a perfect size. As she had done before, she lifted it out, wide-eyed. She just knew if she put it on she would see that little boy next to her at last. He wouldn’t be gone at all.

  Yet every time she put the ring on, she woke up.

  Would that happen now? Was she dreaming?

  “No,” she whispered. “I don’t think I am.”

  Rather than overthink things she slid the ring on.

  The air immediately warmed then cooled before wind started whipping. Though it was getting harder and harder to see, she could feel someone sitting next to her. Their eyes met, his pale blue and familiar. First, he was young and handsome then he was old.

  Then he vanished altogether.

  A breath later he reappeared or at least she thought he did, but things were getting far too scary. The air grew thinner and her surroundings jarring. While she should be screaming, something, a strange sort of peace washed over her before everything went dark. Moments later she realized that happened because she had closed her eyes, maybe even passed out.

  When everything finally snapped into focus, the first thing she saw were those same pale blue eyes. It was him. Phillip. But not.

  “You found me at last, lass,” he murmured. “Welcome to medieval Scotland, Mildred.”

  Chapter Three

  Argyll, Scotland

  Cowal Peninsula

  1312

  “WELCOME TO WHERE?” she whispered, too stunned to move. Nothing was getting through. Not her changed surroundings or the fact she was sitting on a stranger’s lap.

  “Scotland.” He eyed her with concern. “Are you all right, Mildred? I know ‘tis jarring traveling through time at first but—”

  “Come again?” she interrupted, finally of the mind to move and damn fast. Unfortunately, her body was as thrown off as her mind, and she ended up stumbling a few steps before she landed on her butt. She never took her eyes off of him though. “What’s going on? Where are we, Phillip?” Her eyes narrowed. “If that’s even your real name.”

  He appeared a little sheepish. “Actually, no, sorry about that.” He grinned. “The name’s Adlin.”

  “Adlin,” she murmured and frowned before it all started to fall into place. “The boy from my dreams.” Her eyes went to the ring on her finger. “The one who said if I found the ring then I’d find him.”

 

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