by Tamara Gill
“This is where I used to hide from my tutor.”
Kenzie kneeled and looked into the dark space. Did you have candles in there? It looks awfully dark.”
“Aye, candles and animal skins. I can assure ye, it’s still habitable should the need arise.”
He closed the doors quickly as a servant came up the stairs. “Now, to the ground floor.” Like most castles, each floor was connected by a stone spiral staircase. The ground floor held the massive great hall, an entrance chamber with no purpose other than to stop the cold going straight into the great hall during the winter months. The kitchens were off one end of the great hall, while the other housed another ante room that was Ben’s private office, or solar, as he called it.
“Should we go outside? You could show me about the castle proper, and we’ll leave the town and outlying areas for another day.” It was marvelous to walk about Ben’s home and let him tell her stories of his childhood, all that happened within the heavily fortified walls.
“My mother had been considered one of Scotland’s most beautiful women, not noble by birth, but born into a farming family who’d made their fortune in cattle. A money source I still trade in to this day. Mother had been the sole inheritor of all her father’s holdings. Making her an heiress. She was an only child, ye see.
“And your father. What of his background?”
“My father was already the laird by the time he’d met mother. He’d been besotted from the day they met, and the marriage was hasty.”
Kenzie laughed, understanding why that would be, if Ben’s father had similar looks and temperament to his son. She found it hard to be around Ben and not have one part of her brain constantly wondering when she could get him alone.
Walking along the side of the castle they came upon a vegetable garden where linen sheets billowed on a line. At the very back of the castle the yard was flat and well maintained, with low grasses that looked similar to lawn, but native. Kenzie walked up to the wall at the edge of the garden and looked down to the rocky shoreline below. The beach was sandy and possibly safe enough to swim. This part of Ross would be a little more troublesome to access if anyone wanted to invade via the sea.
It would probably end terribly, with the boat smashed to smithereens against the stones.
“I love the ocean. It’s so vast and deep. Did you know that the highest mountains on earth are below sea level?”
Ben threw her a puzzled look. “Ye tease. ’Tis impossible, lass.”
She leaned against the wall, pulling her shawl a little closer around her. The wind off the ocean was cold. “It’s true. Can you imagine how deep some parts would be? How dark? It’s kind of scary when you think about it. A whole other world we know nothing about.”
He laughed, and she smiled, her enjoyment at hearing his deep masculine chuckle warming her blood. “You think I’m mad now, don’t you?”
“Nay, not mad. Mayhap a lot wiser as to the wonders of this world than I am, but that’s to be expected when one is from the future.” He pulled her against him, heedless of anyone who saw them. “What else do ye know?”
Kenzie wrapped her arms about his waist. “Let me see…there’s lots of things, like, all the land masses of this world have been found and are populated. We have planes that allow us to fly around the world. From here, for instance, I could travel to America, what you would know as the English colonies, in seven hours or so. Bees can smell fear. Scotland just voted to remain part of England.”
At her last statement Ben held her away, his face a mask of shock and outrage. “That cannot be true. A true Scot would never do such a thing.”
“They did, but times are different in the future. Scotland relies on a lot of income from England for support. Most industries have closed or moved elsewhere. Some think Scotland wouldn’t be able to survive on its own, and so they voted to stay part of the United Kingdom.” She stepped back into his embrace, rubbing his back when he still didn’t reply. In fact, Ben looked like he could be ill.
“It breaks my heart to know that.”
Kenzie could understand how it would. It had broken her own a little when the country had voted to stay. But that was the word of the people, and what the majority had wanted. “You must know that Scotland is a lot different from this time. It’s no longer so harsh to make a living. The divide between the wealthy and poor has lessened, for the better, I think. The country relies heavily on tourism, people visiting it for its beauty and history. It still is a wonderful place.”
“But it is not free.” Sadness tinged his voice and Kenzie regretted telling him of his homeland’s current political situation.
“I didn’t tell you to upset you, Ben. I think, if you were to see my Scotland, you’d like it. It’s hard not to.”
He didn’t reply, just turned them toward the castle and back indoors. “We’ve wanted our freedom for so long. Hell, my own ancestors fought and died for that cause. How could our descendants vote to stay? It makes no sense.”
The distraught look on his face broke her heart, and she hated that she’d even brought the subject up. What had she been thinking? She needed to keep her mouth shut from now on.
A guard walked briskly toward them when they came into the great hall, and Kenzie’s attention snapped to the large sword that bounced against his leg. The tall, muscular man looked her up and down, and Kenzie had the oddest feeling that he knew she didn’t belong.
“Riders, my liege, coming from the southwest. It looks to be Clan Grant.”
A chill ran down Kenzie’s spine, and like a flick of switch, Ben stilled, his body tensing under her hold.
Close the gate, and we’ll see what they want when they arrive.”
“They have a wagon traveling with them,” the guard said, stepping back, bowing a little.
Ben swore and met her gaze. “Then it’s not a war party, but something else.” He kissed her cheek and strode away, pausing at the door. “Stay here, Kenzie. I’ll be back soon to let ye know what is happening.”
Kenzie watched him until he was out of sight and then went and stood before one of the two fires, which burned in the room. Clan Grant was here? This wasn’t good, and if they were the clan behind Ben’s demise, it was even worse than she thought. Had her arrival at Castle Ross brought forward his death in some way? Had she already changed history by doing something as miniscule as sleeping with him? She chewed her bottom lip, her mind awash with what their arrival could mean, not just for Ben but the people who relied on him.
Not to mention the little boy who lay upstairs, more than ever needing his father to remain alive to keep him safe from those who ruled by tyranny and fear.
…
Ben went up to the gatehouse and looked over the wall toward the forest beyond. The arriving party had long disappeared under the green foliage on their way to Castle Ross, and Ben wondered why they were back. What do they want from me?
Clipped footsteps sounded, and he looked to his side and noted his good friend and clansman, Bruce.
“It’s Clan Grant that’s coming, and they have a woman with them. I believe it may be Aline’s only sister, Athol. A lot of luggage accompanies her. She travels with her brother, Evan. The Laird of Grant is not present.”
What does this mean? Ben rubbed his jaw, hearing the rattle of the carriage on the dirt road before he saw it. “Keep the gate closed, but we’ll go and greet them with six of our best swordsmen. I do not trust them that this isn’t just a ruse to allow them inside before they attack. The Grants have never been known as peacemakers.”
They were, in fact, known for their backstabbing of their fellow clansmen, if it meant they gained more power, money, or land. Oh ay, they had been civil at Laird Macleod’s, but that was when the Laird of Grant had thought an alliance was assured. A marriage between two clans.
But when Ben had run away with Aline, Clan Grant had shown its true colors and had demanded Macleod have Ben hunted down and hanged or drawn and quartered.
The carriag
e came into view, and Ben went outside the castle walls to greet the Grants. Evan arrived first; his stoic gaze, all hard angles, reminded Ben of why this clan couldn’t be trusted. Not toward him, at least.
Evan Grant bowed a little atop the horse. “Laird Ross, Ben, ’tis good to see ye again. It’s been too long.”
Ben ground his teeth. Not long enough. “I wasn’t expecting ye. What brings ye to my castle doors?” And what do ye bastards want? They had not bothered to come to farewell Aline, and so, to show themselves now made the dormant anger Ben had for them simmer.
“I’ve come here, along with my sister, to offer our apologies and ask for forgiveness for the trouble that’s always been between us since ye married Aline. We were wrong in treating ye with so little respect, and so we’ve come to stay for a time, if ye agree. Father would like Athol to be of help to ye and little Alasdair.” Evan dismounted the horse just as the carriage rocked to a halt.
The clansmen about Ben shifted and clasped their swords. Evan raised his hands in submission. “We dinna come here to start a clan war. Father wished for us to work together, strengthen our alliances just as we should. We’re family, after all.”
Ben narrowed his eyes. “Family, ye say. Well, that is to be seen, but I will welcome ye to my home, offer ye food and a bed, but do not cross me, Evan. Ye sister may have been my wife, and the grandchild of ye father may lie asleep within the walls. But that doesn’t mean I will not slit ye throat should ye be here on any other ruse than friendship.”
Evan shook his head. “No ruse, I assure ye.” He walked back toward the carriage and opened the door, helping his sister, who Ben had never met before, from the vehicle.
As the woman stepped down, the blood drained from his face and left him ill at ease. His clansmen Bruce swore, and Ben could well understand why. Athol was the spitting image of her deceased sister. He took in her every feature and couldn’t see a difference. What kind of madness is this?
Evan walked her toward them, and Ben noted the strong determination in the woman’s gaze, which was identical to what Aline’s had been. “This is my sister, Athol Grant, the much younger sister of Aline.” Evan met Athol’s gaze. “This is the Laird of Ross, or Black Ben, as a lot of the Highlanders know him as. He was Aline’s husband.”
“I understand the mechanics of family, Evan. I do not need ye to teach me, thank ye very much.” Athol curtsied and met Ben’s gaze, ice blue eyes staring back at him, and he couldn’t quite catch his breath.
“May I call you Ben, too? Or would ye prefer brother, or my liege?” The flirtatious glance made Ben pause.
“Ben will do well enough.” He gestured them toward the castle gates. “Open the gates and allow them enter,” he yelled out to his men. The creaking of the wooden doors sounded loud in the quiet afternoon.
He walked them into the yard and toward the castle itself. “I’ll have rooms prepared for ye, and if ye wish, you can go upstairs and refresh yourselves before dinner this evening.” He walked them toward the great hall, and seeing Kenzie sitting before the fire brought a smile to his mouth.
She looked pensive, and when she glanced at him, a small frown line marred her brow. He went to her, not caring if the party who’d just arrived followed him or not. “I’ll explain everything as soon as we’re alone,” he said, before the others came to stand with them.
“And who is this?” Athol said, smiling at Kenzie with genuine kindness. Mayhap the lass wasn’t similar to Aline in that sense. His wife, God rest her soul, had been quick to judge, disliked anyone she met, and took some time to warm up to them. Athol may have been cut from the same tartan, but perhaps wasn’t so quick to dislike and distrust. He mayhap had judged her too quickly.
“This is my guest, Kenzie, from Sir Braxton and Gwendolyn Macleod. She’s a distant relative to Laird Macleod and Gwendolyn, his sister.”
Evan narrowed his eyes on Kenzie and Ben watched him, not about to let the Scot insult her in any way. Not when both of them were guests under his roof.
“A Macleod. What are ye doing here, lass? Did ye travel here with other Macleods or are ye on your own?”
Kenzie’s face turned a delightful pink, and Ben clasped the hilt of his sword, an action that he was pleased Evan noted. Good. He wanted him to take heed. “I invited her to stay after we met at Sir Braxton and Gwendolyn’s estate. I hope ye don’t have a problem with that.” Not that Ben cared what the Grant thought or said, but he wouldn’t have him treating Kenzie with anything other than respect.
“None at all, ’tis your home. You may do as ye like.” Evan smiled a little at Kenzie and it looked more like a snarl. “Are ye married, lass? You look of an age that ye should be.”
Kenzie laughed and covered it with a cough. “No, I’m not, my lord. And I’m not looking to be anytime soon.”
Athol stepped forward, kissing one of Kenzie’s cheeks. “’Tis lovely to meet ye, Kenzie. Our family have long been allies of Clan Macleod and it’s very nice to meet one at last. I couldn’t attend the Highland games, alas, with Aline, where she met the Laird Ross. I was too young, ye see. Not of age.”
“And what brings you to Castle Ross?” Kenzie asked.
“Our father was very distraught, as Ben knows only too well, after Aline passed away. He held Ben to blame, ye see,” Athol said, coming over to Ben and taking his arm. “But he wishes to wrong that right, and so, here ye find us today.”
He looked down at the dark-haired lass and across to Kenzie whose gaze was fixated on where Athol’s hand sat against his arm.
“Father has come to his senses about the whole situation. And as I’m Aline’s sister, ’tis only right that I came to Castle Ross to look after the wee babe. For as long as Laird Ross will have me, I’m willing to stay and help him raise his boy, just as I know my sister would want me to had she had the choice.”
“So, you’re going to be staying for months, years even?” Kenzie threw Ben an alarmed glance, and he frowned, unsure himself what was unfolding before him.
“Ye don’t need to stay, for Alasdair is growing strong and is healthy. But, of course, ye are welcome here for a visit, but I wouldn’t dare take ye from your family for too long. Or a future with a husband of ye own choice.”
“Ye are not taking me from anything, Ben, and we owe it to ye after how father reacted after Aline’s death.” Athol smiled up at him, and the breath in his lungs froze. She was so like Aline it was terrifying.
Had he not known and buried Aline himself, he would swear she was standing beside him right now. It wasn’t a situation he’d ever planned or thought to eventuate, and Ben wasn’t sure how he felt toward the woman beside him. It was confusing, to say the least.
Ben summoned a servant. “Are the rooms ready for the Grants?”
The young maid nodded. “Yes, they are. If ye would follow me.”
“We shall see you both at dinner.” Athol smiled and again Ben couldn’t fathom how similar the sisters were. It was like looking at a ghost.
Chapter Ten
After Evan and Athol had departed their company, Ben had been called away with his clansmen about some matter regarding the fish stock and storage, and Kenzie was left to entertain herself.
She’d gone back outside and explored the castle a little more before heading back indoors and having a quick wash before dinner. The castle was quiet when she left her room, although when she made the staircase, she could hear the muffled sound of a baby crying.
Going up to the third floor, Kenzie made her way toward Alasdair’s room and walked in to find him awake and kicking at his blankets. The wet-nurse was nowhere to be seen. He was the most adorable little cherub she’d ever seen, and without thought, she picked him up, putting him over her shoulder and patting his back.
“You’re so adorable, aren’t you, little man. And why are you awake? Did you not want to sleep?” Kenzie sat down on the rocking chair beside the crib and rocked him until he calmed down.
She ran her hand over his bottom, and the d
ampness of the cloths that were acting as a nappy told her what was wrong. Seeing the small table that the nurse had called a changing table, Kenzie took Alasdair over to it and laid him down.
He suckled his thumb, kicking his legs, obviously annoyed at whatever was soiling his nappy. Kenzie untied the cloth and prepared herself for whatever was in there and cautiously looked, relieved to see it was only wet. She smiled at her own silliness. She’d never done this before.
Kenzie rubbed Alasdair’s belly, cooing at him while she reached over to the side of the table and grabbed a wet cloth that sat in a bowl of water. Cleverly, it sat above a burning candle, which kept the liquid warm enough not to startle the baby when she wiped it over his bottom.
He watched her, his trust and innocence making her heart turn over in her chest. What a little darling. And Kenzie couldn’t help but feel sorry for the lad that he’d never know his mama.
Kenzie allowed the air to dry his bottom, before seeing a pile of folded nappies on the table. She placed one under him, and tried to remember how it was tied, muddling her way through it enough that she was sure the wet-nurse would be happy.
“Ye like children.” A voice said from the doorway.
Kenzie finished dressing Alasdair and picked him up, placing him over her shoulder once more. “I do, although I’ve never had any of my own. But he’s the sweetest boy.”
Athol came up to her and peeked at the baby. “He looks like Aline more than Ben, but I suppose that may change in time.” She walked over to the window and stared out at the growing dusk.
“Did you want to hold him?” Kenzie asked, rocking him a little when he started to fuss. He was probably hungry for his next feed.
“No, ’tis not something that, I, as a lady, need to do. We have servants for that.”
Kenzie met her gaze and read the disdain that stared back at her through cold, blue orbs. “Aren’t you here to help the laird raise his son? And if you are wouldn’t that entail holding the child at some point?”
