by Tamara Gill
Ben thanked the lad and broke the seal, scanning the letter quickly. It was from his manservant and friend who was looking after his lands in his absence. His mention of Aline’s father visiting, and the prolonged time he’d spent with Ben’s son made the hair on the back of his neck rise.
What was the man trying to tell him by visiting his lad when he himself was away? Unease trickled down his spine, and he stood, striding quickly toward the foyer. He ran into Braxton on his way to find his servant to ready his departure without delay.
“Is all well, Ben?” Braxton asked, halting his steps.
“Aline’s father has been at Castle Ross. I must return. His visit during my absence is a warning I’m not likely to ignore. I must go.” He stepped away, but Braxton pulled him to a stop.
“Now? But we were about to celebrate the arrival of Kenzie and your son. Surely, if you brought ye boy to stay here with us, there is naught that Clan Grant can do.”
It was true, Braxton and Gwen lived under the protection of Clan Macleod. ’Twould be a fool indeed who tried to cause trouble here, but Castle Ross was isolated, and with his son there alone with only the servants as protection, Ben had left him in a vulnerable position. There was also little chance of Clan Grant allowing the lad to travel here in the first place. Not if they wished Alasdair to stay with them; they would not see him anywhere but where he was right now.
He swore, running a hand through his hair. He’d been a selfish bastard for leaving the boy not long after his birth. No matter how far he traveled from his lands, the memory of Aline and her unbearable sweetness while she’d lain dying wrecked his mind even now.
It was his fault she’d died. To prove to her that his marrying her was due to his affection, the more time he spent with her, the more he actually came to like the lass, and somehow, in the time that they were married, he had come to care for her deeply.
“I cannot risk my son or lands. I must go.”
“Aye,” Braxton said, clasping him on his shoulder. “I’ll see that ye servant is notified and you’re on ye way by daybreak.”
“No, I must leave now.” He started toward the stairs. “I’ll have a cart sent to gather the remainder of my possessions, which are few, but I’ll go by horseback tonight. If I can trouble ye for one of ye best fighting men, I would be greatly appreciative.”
“Anything,” Braxton said without hesitation. “I’ll have James sent for. He’s my best swordsman.”
Ben thanked him and started up the stairs. He stopped after two steps and turned to face Braxton. “Will yet tell Kenzie and Gwen of my parting? I dinna want to say goodbye. I’ve never been vera good at it.” His goodbye with Aline had left him with many unsaid words. How he was sorry that he’d married her under false pretenses. That he feared she’d guessed his deception but tried to make the best of a situation that wasn’t what she’d hoped for. That he’d made her have his son, which, in turn, had killed her. Goodbyes were never easy, and Ben now avoided them like the pox.
Understanding dawned in Braxton’s eyes. “I can do that for ye. I’ll also have ye horse ready to depart within the next half hour.”
“Thank ye, Braxton. You’re a good man.” One of the best, in fact. It was no surprise why Aedan Macleod had allowed the man to marry his sister.
It didn’t take Ben long to put the few articles he’d traveled with together into a sack. Going about the room and checking he had everything that he needed for the journey home; he doubted a cart would be required, after all. He left the room and strode down the hall, slowing his steps as he passed Kenzie’s quarters. No feminine chatter came from behind the door and he wondered if she were in there, reading or looking out over the estate’s lands. Was she lying on her bed, dreaming of him…?
He cursed himself as a damn fool for acting like a green lad. It was not like he’d never met a lass before who’d made the blood in his veins burn. So soon after the death of his wife, he didn’t need to become embroiled with some meddling woman from the future who had a tongue as sharp as his blade. There were a few lasses at his own estate that would scratch the itch that annoyed him daily. He would seek them out as soon as he returned home.
Another lie. He would do no such thing.
But first he had to deal with his deceased wife’s clan and make perfectly clear that they had better keep off his lands unless he was present. Ben could understand that after the death of Aline they harbored anger and resentment toward him, but he could not allow them to take what was his.
Chapter Eight
At dinner, Kenzie sat stunned as Braxton told both her and Gwen of Ben’s departure that afternoon. She’d been sitting in her room, trepidation making the book she’d held in her hands shake when she’d heard Ben stride down the hall. It must have been the time that he was going. That he was leaving to return to Castle Ross had not been what she’d expected to hear. A small part of her had hoped he’d stride into her room and quench the thirst she had for him. After what had happened in the library, she thought he might take charge, burst into her room, and seduce her.
Apparently not.
It was an odd reaction to have since Kenzie had never liked overbearing men. Maybe it was because she’d inherited a Scottish estate and had taken over the running and care of it when she was of age. She’d been brought up to be independent and often did what needed to be done herself. She had never relied on any others for support. Of course, she had been happy if it was offered, but it had not been needed, necessarily.
So, to want Ben to take charge of her body, throw her onto her bed, play her like a fine instrument until she sang, wasn’t the norm.
“Why did you not try and stop him? Aedan and Abby will be here later today. And now there is no point in bringing them all this way.” A small frown line marred Gwen’s brow and it was a frustration and disappointment Kenzie understood.
“You wanted me to keep Black Ben, one of the most fearsome Scots this side of Edinburgh here against his will? I dinna have a death wish, wife.”
Gwen huffed out an annoyed breath. “I thought he was bringing his son here.”
“Yes, well I suppose he wished to return home to ensure that not only was his son well, but also that Castle Ross does not come into jeopardy by Clan Grant. You know they never approved of Aline marrying him, and they’re seeking out justified revenge, in their opinion if I know anything about them.”
Kenzie hadn’t thought it was as bad as all that, but perhaps she was allowing her twenty-first-century mind not to rationalize too much and not see just how hard and dangerous this time was for others.
“Do you think Clan Grant will strike at Ben?” Knowing that in only three months Ben would be killed, Kenzie couldn’t help but think that this was perhaps the start of the Black Ben mystery that historians had wondered about. Clan Grant held a grudge, so it could be that laird who had a price on Ben’s head.
“I have to follow him, Gwen. You know why.” Kenzie didn’t want to say any more as Braxton wasn’t aware of Ben’s fate, but perhaps it was only a matter of time, if his accusing glance at Gwen was any indication.
“I promised Kenzie not to say anything, but under the circumstances, I’m sure she will understand,” Gwen said, setting down her napkin.
Kenzie wasn’t too sure about that…
Gwen explained to Braxton what she had told her only weeks ago and watched with growing alarm as her ancestor’s visage took on a horrified look.
“I must notify Aedan of this. As soon as he arrives and you,” Braxton said, his attention snapping to her, “must explain everything that ye know of Black Ben’s death. We cannot allow what history has deemed his fate to happen. He deserves better than that.”
When Kenzie had first met Ben, she couldn’t think of a more fitting outcome for the man. But now, the Highlander may be a little rough around the edges, but he did genuinely care for her family, and his death was not justified. Men married women without love all the time. It was not a crime worthy of death. Clan Grant mi
ght never believe that the marriage was a happy one, but Kenzie would disagree. Ben had certainly found Aline attractive, and Kenzie was sure that he had made her as happy as he could. They may not have loved each other, but they did care for each other a great deal, and that is more than many could boast.
It was no one’s fault that Aline had passed away during childbirth. Unfortunately, that happened, even in her own time.
They sat in the grand hall, the large fire burning and throwing heat about the cathedral-type room. Some of the clan sat on trestle tables before them, eating and talking, all of them unaware of Kenzie’s troubles.
The doors to the front of the house burst open, and in strode a rider who looked saddle worn and tired. He gazed about the room and then started toward them, handing a missive to Braxton before Gwen handed him some coin, and he was gone as quick as he came. The clansmen present stopped eating and cast speculative glances their way.
“Who’s the missive from, my dear,” Gwen asked, taking a roll of bread and dipping it into the stew.
“Aedan. Abby isn’t well, and they’re unable to come.” He paused, folding the missive again. “’Tis probably for the best. I shall travel to Druiminn Castle and speak to them in person. You’ll come, too, Gwen. If what Kenzie knows of Ben’s future is true, having you at Druiminn will be safer, should I have to accompany Aedan to Castle Ross.”
“You think Aedan will travel to Ben’s home, knowing what we do?” It shouldn’t surprise Kenzie that he would, as it was exactly what she herself wanted to do. Ben was his oldest friend and ally. The man had married Aline so Aedan could marry Abby. If they did arrive with reinforcements, it might be enough to tweak Ben’s past and his death would never occur. Hope bloomed in her chest.
“Aedan will go, and so, too, will my husband, but take care, Braxton. Kenzie knows very little in relation to Ben’s death. He just seems to disappear. So, whoever his enemy is, he’s cunning and most likely someone Ben knows but does not suspect. Mayhap ’tis someone none of ye would.”
Kenzie stood, the crunch of her chair across the flagstone floor echoed loud within the room. “I’m going, too, and I’ll pack tonight.” She held up her hand when Braxton stood and crossed his arms.
“Stop, Braxton. I’m going, and there is nothing you can do to stop me. As much as I love you both very much, I have to go. It was one of my main reasons for traveling back. And anyway,” she said, shrugging, “you and Aedan will soon be at Castle Ross. There is nothing for me to fear.”
Braxton looked less than convinced, but Gwen smiled, pulling her husband to sit back down. “I will have a horse prepared for departure first thing in the morning and send some armed men with ye. You’ll be safe, my dear, but be warned, ’tis a five-day horse ride to Castle Ross. Are ye sure you’re up to it? If you’re not used to such long distances on horseback, it can become quite uncomfortable.”
Kenzie waved her concerns away, absolutely positive that this was the right choice. Five days on horseback shouldn’t be so bad. As long as the horse didn’t get spooked and bolt, everything would be great. “I’ll be fine. I promise. Five-day horse ride will be fine. With all the renovations I’ve done in my life, I think it’s safe to say I’ve done worse.”
…
She had not done worse. In fact, the pain in her legs and her bottom could very well be the worst hurt she’d ever experienced in her life. The first day of travel had gone well, and though when she’d jumped down from her mare to eat it had taken a few steps and stretching to feel herself again, it hadn’t been so bad.
But by end of day two, her inner thighs had started to rub against the saddle, even though she’d worn trews under her dress. Not only that, her bottom was so numb that she wondered if it had fallen off.
And no matter how much she rubbed it, or walked about when they stopped, nothing helped. It also didn’t help that the few armed men that accompanied her seemed quite amused by her unfortunate circumstances. Kenzie was positive they’d taken the long way round to Castle Ross and were spending less time on breaks. No doubt taking pleasure from her pain.
Damn Highlanders.
By day five, the outer lands of Castle Ross could not come soon enough. They rested the horses beside a slow flowing river, and Kenzie took the opportunity to wash her face and freshen up as much as she could. The thought of a warm soaking bath made her get the men going sooner than they probably wanted, but Kenzie had had enough. If she ever sat on another horse it would be too soon. If only she had her car, she would’ve been at Castle Ross within a few hours.
Her first glimpse of Castle Ross was nothing like she expected. It sat on a picturesque outcrop of land beside a loch. One single road led toward the castle, and the greenest land circled the building like a protective screen from the waters below. Kenzie pulled her horse to a stop, taking in the castle’s magnificence. In her own time, she’d only seen the ruins of this great home. To see it in its full glory—chimneys with smoke puffing out, windows twinkling in the afternoon sun, people milling about outside, going about their jobs—was amazing.
As they came closer, the structure became more imposing. She had always tried to imagine the castle as it once was, but with only a few walls remaining, and even those broken and crumbling with age, it was hard to tell just how large the home had once been.
Seeing it now was awe-inspiring. Castle Ross was, in one word, stunning.
“They’ve seen us,” one of her guards shouted.
Kenzie tore her gaze from the many turrets and windows of the castle, to the men who had come out from the entrance gate and were blocking their way.
They rode up to them, and seeing that her guards dismounted, Kenzie did the same, trying to stem the niggling bite of fear that trembled in her stomach that they might be seen as a threat. All would be well once they understood she was a friend of Laird Ross.
“What’s ye business with the Laird Ross this day?”
An imposing guard, with shoulders the size of a heavyweight boxer, stepped in front of the other men, crossing his arms over his chest. Kenzie couldn’t stop looking at the size of his muscles until one of her own men cleared his throat.
“I’m a relative of Gwendolyn Macleod and friend to Laird Ross. I’ve traveled here to speak with your laird.”
“Ye’re English.” The question was more like a statement that left a bitter taste in the man’s mouth.
Kenzie raised her chin, not about to let this man treat her with disrespect. “And Scottish, not that it is any concern of yours. Now, if you please, would you inform your laird of my arrival and let him choose if where I grew up affects our friendship.”
The man’s gaze narrowed on her, but a flicker of respect entered his brown orbs and some of Kenzie’s trepidation dissipated.
“If you’ll follow me, I’ll take ye to our laird.”
When all of them started to follow, the guard stopped, pointing at her men. “Just the lady. Ye men stay here until our laird deems it safe.”
Kenzie turned to face her guards. “These are Gwendolyn MacLeod and Sir Braxton’s men. They are not a threat.”
“Even so, our laird will be the decider on that.”
She frowned, not wanting to leave the men who’d kept her safe for the past five days out in the cold. “I shall not be long. This is just precautionary, I’m sure. As soon as I see the laird, I’ll have you brought inside.”
“Right ye are, miss,” her guard said, nodding slightly, but clasping the helm of his sword in silent warning to any who might wish to do her harm. Kenzie smiled, thankful that men she’d only known a few days could be so loyal as to give up their lives for her. Not that it was necessary here, as the Laird of Ross would soon welcome them. But this time was fraught with danger, and one who owned such large, profitable holdings could not be complacent.
They started toward the castle and the arched doorway. The guards stepped to the side and allowed her to enter the castle proper. Goose bumps rose on her skin at the temperature change, somehow in
side the castle walls it was colder, and she pulled her shawl closer about her shoulders.
The entrance opened into a large anteroom with no real function, from what Kenzie could tell, before going through a door adjacent to the front one the room gave way to the great hall. Wooden tables ran the length of the room—one of which housed two padded seats that was undoubtedly where the laird and his wife would break their fast—and on both sides of the space, two large fires burned with ferocity.
Kenzie stood transfixed, taking in all that was before her. In her time, all of this was rubble, nothing but layers of stone that had long fallen into total disrepair. The fireplace still stood, but other than that, that was it.
“You may wait near the fire,” the guard said, pointing toward it as if she couldn’t see it right in front of her.
Kenzie nodded, not really worried where she waited, so long as she got to stay in this room and memorize everything so when she returned to her time, she could ensure Castle Ross was restored to its exact former glory.
She strolled over to the table where the laird would eat at meal times and ran her hand over the top of the dark wooden chair engraved with scrolls and different patterns. An embroidered cushion that sported a hunting scene was its only luxury. The embroidery was very well done, and Kenzie wondered if Aline had stitched it for their comfort.
The sound of a banging door made her jump, and she recognized the footsteps without turning about. “Good evening, Ben,” she said, feeling the presence of him as he came to stand behind her.
His hands came down on her shoulders and he turned her to face him. Kenzie had to look up to meet his eyes, and a shiver of expectation ran through her as his gaze was warm and welcoming.
“What are ye doing here, lass? I didn’t expect to see ye again.”
He let his hands drop to his sides, and she missed the contact as soon as it was gone. How was it possible that in less than a week she had missed the rogue? From the moment he’d returned to his estate, Kenzie had known she would follow him if only to try and save him from his own fate. To say goodbye.
