Milly pushed thoughts of kissing Adlin aside and focused on what was happening. What these people were going through living in this country right now.
She loved her heritage and had done plenty of research. Luckily, William Wallace and Robert the Bruce were well-known figures, so the First War of Scottish Independence was something she was relatively familiar with. If the history books were accurate, then something was off right now.
From what she heard, the country was only days away from falling to the English. But that hadn’t happened. They had never come that close that she knew of. Not now anyway. Maybe it was just talk, but it sounded like a good portion of the country was already overtaken and many estates seized. As soon as she had a chance, she intended to take Adlin aside and figure out exactly what was going on. If he was a wizard who could travel through time then surely he knew if history was somehow askew.
Speaking of Adlin.
It did not take long to spot him through the crowd. Her breath caught at the sight of him. He seemed far more formal now in a dark shirt, his tartan wrapped around him neatly with a shiny brooch at his shoulder. A few tiny braids were interwoven into his damp hair.
She honed in on those braids as a memory hovered just out of reach. She had seen them before on a child...with blue eyes. Yet the moment she thought she could visualize him he vanished. But deep down she knew it was Adlin.
She was starting to remember something.
Or at least she had been before Adlin, and the men at the head table began to stand. Though she couldn’t quite catch what they were saying, she knew they were arguing about her. First Graham, then Conall, both intent on her ring. As their words became clearer, she realized they were talking about its gem's color. A third man spoke to Adlin as well, his eyes also on her ring. She had not met him before but knew right away he was different than the others.
Adlin stood as a hush fell over the crowd. He seemed caught in the throes of disbelief, bafflement, and even anger as he stared at her ring too. It was clear he saw no color. Not yet anyway.
She widened her eyes on the gem and shook her head when it began to glow a soft golden brown. It was not the color of Adlin’s eyes. Or any of these men’s for that matter. Though she continued to gaze at the ring, her confused, murmured words were for Adlin. “Don’t you see it?”
When his eyes widened then narrowed, she knew he did.
This could not be good. Wasn’t her gem supposed to match his eyes? Wasn’t that the sole reason she was here? True love or something along those lines? What she found even more alarming though, was that the damn gem did appear to be a color. That blew her mind. Especially considering it was the wrong color. She tried not to panic, but it became difficult as the room closed in on her. As the people around her felt suffocating.
“Milly, ‘tis nice to finally meet you, lass,” came a deep, kind voice. Though much older with white hair, the man who spoke had a strong presence as he continued. “My name is Grant Hamilton.” When his gentle hand landed on her shoulder, and his eyes met hers, a strange but soothing warmth spread through her. “All will be well.”
“Hello,” she murmured, a little thrown off balance but grateful for his presence.
By the time Adlin joined them, which was rather quickly, it felt less like the room was going to swallow her. Adlin nodded at Grant as though thanking him.
“I will introduce you to everyone later.” Adlin put his hand to the small of her back. “For now, let’s get you some fresh air.”
“What’s going on, Adlin?” She shook her head as he steered her toward the door and Grant followed. “This gem...it’s...it’s...”
“’Tis all right,” he said softly and urged her to take a mug from a servant in passing. “Once we find a quiet spot, Grant and I will explain things.”
Milly flinched at the taste of whisky, but that didn’t stop her from taking a few more sips. By the time she got outside and took several deep breaths, she felt better.
“Though ‘tis likely all can be trusted ‘tis best we bring her somewhere no ears can hear us, lad,” Grant said to Adlin.
Adlin nodded, took her hand, led her down the stairs, and around a bend to a creaky door leading to utter darkness. “’Twill be a bit daunting but fear naught, lass, there is nothing beyond this door but a dungeon and ghosts.”
“Excuse me?” She frowned as he fell to one knee in front of her.
“What are you doing?” Was he proposing? “For God’s sake Adlin we just met,” she began, but he interrupted.
“Grip my shoulder.” His eyes met hers. “And give me your foot.”
Well, that’s an odd way to propose.
The corner of Adlin’s mouth shot up, and his eyes twinkled before he murmured something and a small pair of boots appeared. “You should not go below stairs in your current shoes, Mildred. ‘Tis cold, damp stone down there.”
Right. That made far more sense than a damn proposal. What was the matter with her?
“Uh...thanks.” She was caught between how strangely intimate the moment felt and the fact that he had just manifested shoes with a chant. A chant. Unreal.
Yet still, she wasn’t as shocked and disbelieving as she probably should be.
After he laced up her boots, Adlin grabbed a torch from a wall bracket and led her inside a musty smelling chamber. Soon after, they started down a long, winding staircase. “These stairs have been here since I first built this castle hundreds and hundreds of years ago. As have the dungeons and many tunnels that run beneath the castle.”
“I thought I read somewhere that dungeons didn’t exist in this time period,” she mentioned. “That prisoners were kept in towers.”
“Aye, that’s true,” he replied. “But with magic at my disposal as well as the ability to time travel and see castles from the future, I did things to my castle that others had never heard of. For privacy more than anything. The occasional enemy has been brought down here, but thanks to magic doesnae remember it once they leave. Outside of kin and close friends, most dinnae know this part of the castle exists so ‘tis a good place to meet in secret.”
“Ah, that makes sense I suppose.” She tried to focus on anything but how creepy it was. “Do you actually remember building everything?”
“Sometimes,” he replied. “I have moments of clarity on occasion. Flashes of memories.”
“Ah,” she whispered. That had to be strange.
By the time they reached the bottom the damp chill was getting to her, and she shivered.
“Here, lass.” Adlin murmured a chant and swung a fur around her shoulders before he handed one to Grant as well. “You too, mentor.”
Mentor? She glanced at Grant as he shouldered into the cloak, and headed down an arched hallway. So if Adlin was a wizard that meant, what, Grant was his teacher? Milly pondered that as they walked. More so, the strange calming effect Grant had on her earlier. Had he used some kind of magic? No doubt considering Adlin seemed to be able to chant anything he wanted into existence.
As they walked wall torches flared to life, illuminating random chains attached to the walls. Adlin made it sound like few had been brought down here, but she had to wonder.
“Pay them no mind, Mildred,” Adlin murmured from behind her as they continued down a stone hallway. “This would not have been my choice of places to show you but ‘tis the best for discretion and...”
When he trailed off, she stopped, glanced at him and perked her brows. “And what?”
“Come, lass,” Grant urged from ahead. “The lad’s mind’s going in circles, and he’s not saying things as he should.”
“No.” Milly frowned and didn’t budge. If she was learning nothing else here, it was that she should demand answers as often as possible from Adlin. And right away. If not, he would likely sweep her into another conversation or in another direction without her ever being the wiser. “Tell me, Adlin. Stop keeping secrets.”
“’Tis just that in the long run, ‘tis probably best that you familiarize yourself w
ith all parts of our castle.” He gestured around them. “Especially beneath it as there are hidden escape routes.”
“Escape routes?” she whispered and swallowed hard. “Why would I need to escape?”
Probably not her brightest question given the state of Scotland.
“Och, laddie!” Grant, who had doubled back when he realized Adlin hadn’t kept quiet, tsked him, took her hand and urged her along. “Dinnae let the lad frighten you, lass. As I said, he’s not in his right mind at the moment.” He shook his head. “Come on, Adlin. Let’s get Milly where she can rest then we’ll answer all her questions, aye?”
Adlin said nothing but wore a frown as they continued. “They’ll be along, you know.”
“Aye, I know,” Grant said.
“Who?” Milly asked.
“The others,” Grant explained. “Adlin’s cousins.”
“What?” She shook her head, more and more aware of how dark and isolated it was down here. “I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that.”
“They would never harm you, lass,” Adlin said. “That much I can assure you.”
“Yeah, well, I seem to remember you assuring me this gem would match your eyes too,” she muttered, paying close attention to where they were going in case she needed to make a break for it. She rolled her eyes at the thought. Like she could ever outrun any of these men in a dungeon that they no doubt knew inside out.
“And the gem will match my eyes,” he assured, cutting into her thoughts. “As soon as we get to the bottom of things.”
“Which I think we should have tried to do far sooner,” she mentioned. “If you hadn’t been so focused on other things.”
While they had discussed a few topics upon arrival, he knew exactly what she was referring to. Or so she assumed based on the sensual heat in his gaze when their eyes met. He might have a lot to tell her, but she got the impression he also had quite a bit he wanted to show her...or remind her of.
“Ah, here we are,” Grant murmured as they arrived at a large, circular room with several chairs and a small table with bread, a pitcher of ale and several mugs. “And bless her, Euphemia knew we were coming.”
Adlin frowned. “Euphemia willnae go below the castle.”
“Not the youngin’, nay,” Grant said as he urged Milly to sit and poured her some ale. “But her grandmum.”
“So she’s returned then?” Adlin nodded. “Good. Euphemia will be pleased.”
Milly thanked Grant and didn’t waste any time. “Okay, start talking Adlin because I need to understand what’s going on.” She eyed the brown gem. “And why this changed color.”
“Aye,” Conall agreed as he appeared out of the darkness with Graham and the third man she had seen earlier.
“It didnae take you long,” Adlin muttered and narrowed his eyes in warning. “She doesnae ken what’s happening, so you’re to keep quiet until I’ve had a chance to explain.”
“You speak to us as though you are our laird,” Conall quipped as he crossed his arms over his chest. “When all but one of us are your equals.”
Graham snorted. “So ye think.”
“Ye arenae Adlin’s equal and never will be, Grandson.” Grant gestured at a chair, frowned and narrowed his eyes at Conall. “Now sit yer arse down and mayhap, if ye start adjusting yer attitude some, ye’ll find yer way to equal ground someday. Until then ye better remember well that ye wouldnae exist if not for all Adlin’s help in his previous life. None of us would.”
Milly strained to understand Grant because of his brogue. When these men got heated, their accents grew damn thick. She took several sips of ale as she eyed them all and tried not to focus on how she was the only woman in a dungeon full of huge guys.
First, she eyed Conall with his movie star good looks. He was classically handsome with unusually pale sage green eyes. Close to the color of Leslie’s but with more mint in them. Graham almost struck her as ethnic with his swarthy skin tone and sharp features. He was the sort of handsome that was hard to look away from.
Then there was the third man. Taller than the others, he was just as handsome but in a different way. More intense. Though his features were not quite as chiseled as Adlin’s, his slashed brows and strong stubbled chin leant him a ferociousness that she imagined many women liked...even if they shouldn’t. Then he had those strange golden eyes that she wasn’t so sure she wanted turning her way.
Yet they did.
“’Tis nice to finally meet you, Mildred,” he said, his voice a deep baritone. “I am Laird Bryce MacLeod, fast friend, and kin to Clan MacLomain.”
“Nice to meet you,” she managed under his steady appraisal. “Please, call me Milly.”
He nodded before his eyes like the others fell to her ring.
“Let us begin there then,” Adlin said as he sat and asked the same of the men. “Why it is we all see Mildred’s gem differently. Why it appears to match all of your eyes.”
Come again? Milly frowned. “What are you talking about?”
When he told her she decided a few more sips of ale were in order. “You mean to tell me that when all of you look at my ring, each of you sees the gem matching your own eye color?” She looked at Adlin. “Yet when you look at it you see the same shade as me?”
“Aye,” everyone replied.
“Oh, man,” she whispered, overly aware of how intently they were looking at her. All except Adlin that is.
“Stop looking at her like ye’ve a mind to throw her over yer shoulder and make off with her,” Grant chastised as his gaze went from man to man. “She isnae meant for any of ye but Adlin. Know it and know it well, ye ken?”
“Fair enough, Grandfather. At least for now.” Conall’s eyes turned to Adlin. “I am fairly certain I speak for all of us when I ask this. We all knew Milly was coming and that once her gem matched your eyes, we would begin to execute our plan to save Scotland.” He cocked his head. “So how are we to do this now when her gem is clearly undecided about whom her true love is. Therefore, undecided if it will assist us.”
“Good God, okay, this is where I’ve got to hit the pause button,” Milly kicked in, loosened up enough by the ale and just plain old exasperated with Adlin. So it was him she focused on. “Wouldn’t you say it’s time you explain why I’m here? Because obviously, it isn’t just about romance.” She frowned. “What are you up to? Why am I really here?”
When Adlin tried to take her hand, she shook her head. “No, none of that. Just tell me. I deserve answers. The truth.” She looked from Grant back to him. “Now.”
Adlin eyed her for a long moment before he sighed and finally started sharing. “Thanks to an unusual Viking ancestor named Aðísla, Grant and I were given a dire warning about what was going to happen to our country if we didnae take certain measures. Thanks to her particular brand of magic, we were able to witness but not stop the capture of South Berwick, which marked the beginning of all the strife happening now.”
“I’m familiar with the event,” she said softly, amazed that he had actually been there. After going back and forth between Scottish and English rule countless times, the location was now Berwick-upon-Tweed, England. “But as far as I know, that battle made William Wallace rise up then Robert the Bruce later.” She gave it some thought. “The war you’re currently fighting eventually ends in a peace treaty, right? In Edinburgh?”
“Aye, according to history books,” Adlin said. “But that can change, and Aðísla showed us. There is an alternate history, Mildred. One that will happen if you and I dinnae make sure things go as they should.”
“Pardon me?” She perked one brow then another. “You’re joking right?” She eyed the others for their reactions before looking at Adlin again. “Because I’ve heard you like to joke.”
“He’s not joking, woman,” came a soft voice with an unusual accent before two women appeared through the darkness. The one who had spoken was tall, blond and gorgeous. She wore brown leather pants and a leather tunic cinched at the waist. She had nume
rous braids interwoven in her hair, lightly tattooed arms and several blades tucked here and there.
“Aðísla, my lass!” Adlin crossed the room in three longs strides, embraced her and spun her once before holding her at arm’s length. “I didnae think I’d see ye back here so soon.”
As in she had been here recently, and he still seemed so damn happy to see her?
“Things have changed.” Aðísla’s eyes swept over the room, taking in everyone present before her eyes fell to Milly’s ring. “As I am sure you’ve all gathered.”
“Aye,” Grant said before he embraced the woman who had entered with her. “’Tis good to see ye again, Niece.”
Though not as tall as Aðísla, it was clear the other woman was a fighter too based on her linen trousers, tall boots, and braids. She had dark hair, delicate features and a sharp intelligence in eyes that were nearly the same shade as Adlin’s.
“Aye, Uncle Grant,” she said. “I’m glad I returned home in time.” Her eyes went to Milly, and she nodded. “Welcome. I am Blair, daughter of Logan and Cassie MacLomain.”
Ah, she had heard about Blair. How hard she had taken the loss of her brother a few years ago and her determination to avenge him. Since then, she had not worn a dress and vowed to fight alongside her countrymen until the end. According to Leslie, had Adlin not wanted the position, Clan MacLomain would have gladly made Blair the first woman chieftain in recorded history.
“Nice to meet you, Blair,” Milly said, grateful to have a few women around. Especially ones that looked like they could take these men if anything turned sour. “Your mother’s been very kind to me, and I’m thankful.”
Blair nodded. “Aye, good.” She winked. “Ma’s got a soft spot for time travelers.”
Milly didn’t miss how Adlin and Aðísla were still holding hands. What was going on with that?
“Come. Sit. Both of you.” Adlin finally let go of Aðísla’s hand as the women sat, more mugs were chanted into existence and he poured them ale. “I see you had no problem tracking all of us down here.”
Blair eyed the room. “Nay, ‘twas a good spot for ye to pick.” She gestured at Adlin. “Please, continue explaining things to Milly. She deserves it at the verra least.”
Sworn to a Highland Laird Page 7
