Talisman of Light: Highland Hearts Afire - Time Travel Romance

by B. J. Scott

  Upon Agnes’s death, the solicitors sent Katherine a financial statement, showing a bank balance of forty-two pounds, along with pictures of a large, ramshackle, stone cottage in desperate need of repairs, and the several acres of unkempt land on which it sat. Since the estate of her spinster aunt didn’t amount to much, she hadn’t pursued the issue when first contacted and had never bothered mentioning the meager windfall to Ethan. Something she was thankful for now.

  She dragged her hand across her brow, pondering her current situation. Was she insane for putting her life on hold and flying half way across the world? No. She was crazy for getting romantically involved with her boss in the first place. She knew better than to mix business with her personal life. And learned her lesson the hard way.

  Just thinking about the man caused her skin to crawl and a knot of trepidation to twist her belly. A womanizing rogue by reputation, Ethan swore that was all in the past, and she was the only woman he wanted in his life. But they didn’t call the world renowned advertising executive The Chameleon of Maddison Avenue for nothing. And while he presented a suave, debonair, carefree demeanor to everyone he met, behind closed doors, he’d turned out to be the master of deception. Doctor Jekyll and Mr. Hyde was more in keeping with his personality. A serious drug and alcohol problem, a violent temper, and a jealous, possessive streak a mile long were among his best kept secrets.

  In need of a stretch, Katherine rose and wandered to the window. Upon catching her reflection in the polished pane of glass, she touched her bruised cheek, a stark reminder of her last encounter with Ethan. The vow she’d live to regret it if she ever tried to leave, echoed in her head.

  Given the severity of the altercation, it was a wonder a bruised face was all she had to show for it. That she walked away was a miracle in itself. She’d never seen a man so irate and out of control. And all because she danced with his partner at the company party.

  It was George’s birthday and they’d done nothing wrong. For Ethan to fly off the handle and accuse them of having an affair in front of everyone, including his partner’s pregnant wife, was totally uncalled for, not to mention false.

  Katherine balled her fists at her side. There were two things she couldn’t abide, a lying cheater or an abusive partner. Being hit once was enough and she swore it was the first and last time, he’d ever lay hand to her. But she should have waited for him to calm down before announcing she was breaking their engagement.

  “Did you know your aunt well?” the receptionist asked.

  Katherine jumped. Startled back to the present, she faced the woman. “I beg your pardon?

  “Where you close to your aunt?” The receptionist smiled. “While a recluse, I’m told she was quite a colorful character. It’s a shame she never married or had any children.”

  “No. I didn’t know her well.” Katherine sucked in a cleansing breath to settle her nerves before continuing. “When I was seven-years old, Aunt Agnes paid a visit to my family’s New England home. Unfortunately, it was the only time we met. But my maternal grandmother, Margaret, who was my aunt’s only sister, often said I was the spitting-image of Agnes when she was a child. Even though I inherited my father’s dark hair.”

  “You must have been a very comely bairn. I’m told your aunt was quite breathtaking.”

  The heat of embarrassment rose in Katherine’s cheeks. She wasn’t fishing for compliments. “Aunt Agnes was much lovelier than I could ever hope to be.” She closed her eyes, picturing her great-aunt’s Titian hair piled high on her head, her wide green eyes, and sweet, yet mischievous smile. To say they looked alike was an exaggeration as far as Katherine was concerned.

  She’d never considered herself to be a beautiful woman by most modern standards. While Katherine prided herself in being physically fit, her slender—almost boyish figure—lack of buxom feminine curves, her aversion for too much makeup, passable facial features, and the dusting of freckles across her nose was far from model material. She saw herself as average looking, more like the girl-next-door than a raving beauty. A woman most men smiled at, asked out for a drink, but never longed to possess. Eye-candy she wasn’t.

  She’d often wondered why Ethan asked her to marry him. Especially when he could have any beautiful Manhattan debutant of his choosing. Was it her intelligence, ingenuity, and keen knack for business that intrigued him? Or was it her reluctance to fall for his charm when they first met? He often fixated on things that were out of his reach. And with her aversion to relationships, she did present a challenge.

  True, she had her share of date offers, but finishing her education and the drive to succeed in her chosen profession overshadowed her desire for fun and frivolity—the very things on which Agnes reportedly thrived. Structure, hard work, and responsibility were traits her father instilled in her from the time she was very young. But Katherine secretly wished she had just a touch of adventure in her life.

  She smiled, remembering the wonderful tales Agnes told about the faeries, kelpies, selkies, and other fae creatures who occupied the Highland forests and waterways. But they were just that, stories meant to entertain children and those foolish enough to believe in, superstition, romance, and happily-ever-after endings.

  “So your mam was a Grant, I take it?” The receptionist licked the seal of a rose-colored envelope and pressed it closed before adding it to a pile of outgoing mail in front of her.

  Her question interrupted, Katherine’s musing. She had never been one for small talk with strangers, but she decided it was better than sitting there in silence or thinking about Ethan. “My maternal grandmother was Agnes’s younger sister. She was a Grant until she moved to the United States and married my grandfather, Harold Lindsay. They had one daughter, Moira, and she was my mother.”

  “I see,” the receptionist stroked her chin. “And your da? Is he an American?”

  “He was born in Hartford Connecticut, but he had Scottish roots too. His name was Hunter MacDonald. He was an architect in Boston, and—” Katherine bowed her head.

  “Was, dear?” The receptionist asked.

  “My parents both died in an automobile accident when I was sixteen. They were hit by a drunk driver. After that, I went to live with my grandmother, but she has also passed on.” Katherine wiped a tear from her cheek with the back of her hand, then coughed. Talking about her family always caused her throat to thicken with emotion.

  The receptionist rose, rounded her desk, and handed Katherine a tissue. “I’m sorry for your loss. According to Ms. Grant’s file, you were listed as the only beneficiary of her will. I’m assuming from what you’ve said, you were also an only bairn, and there are no other living relatives on your mother’s side of the family.”

  Katherine almost choked on the words. “That’s correct. I had no brothers or sisters.”

  “Are you married, lass?”

  Katherine balled the tissue in her fist, her gaze fixed on the floor. She swallowed hard. “And there is no one of significance in my life.”

  “I’m surprised a lovely lass like you hasna married,” the receptionist said.

  When her parents died, followed by her grandmother two years later, Katherine was left alone. They’d been her whole life and she missed them terribly, the deep ache of loss devouring her heart and leaving her chest an empty void.

  Determined to guard herself from further pain, she concentrated on her studies, vowing never to fall in love. She had plenty of friends and acquaintances, but eventually realized it wasn’t enough. Unfortunately, the one time she broke her hard and fast rule of never getting into a relationship proved to be a disaster.

  “Is this your first trip to Scotland?” the receptionist asked.

  “Yes. I always planned to visit, but never got the chance.” And, she wouldn’t be here now if she wasn’t trying to escape from her abusive fiancé.

  After graduating from university with honors and a Master’s Degree in business administration and marketing, Katherine was thrilled to snag a job with the
prestigious Cochran Advertising Agency—leaving her little time for a social life and even less time to think about the fact that she was very much alone. But meeting Ethan changed all that.

  Refusing to dwell on her past mistakes or to wallow in self-pity, Katherine abruptly rose to her feet and approached the receptionist. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I’ve waited long enough and my time is valuable. Have Mr. MacBain or Mr. Murray call me when they would like to reschedule my appointment.” She grabbed a notepad and pen from atop the desk and jotted down her cell number. “They can reach me at—”

  The phone rang and the receptionist answered it. “Aye Mr. Murray.” She replaced the receiver on the cradle and smiled at Katherine. “If you can abide a wee longer, they’ll be ready for you soon.”

  “Fine.” Katherine stomped back to her chair and sat. But a few minutes to MacBain and Murray seemed like yet another lifetime. Her eyelids growing heavy, she rested her forehead upon her hand. “Maybe if I shut my eyes for just a minute, I’ll feel better,” she mumbled.

  ~ * ~

  A warm breeze caressed her cheek and Katherine tipped her face toward the sun, hoping to catch the warmth of its rays. Lifting the hem of her ivory colored gown she dipped her bare toes into the loch, then withdrew them quickly, the water still frigid from winter’s grip.

  With arms outstretched, she spun full circle, taking in the panoramic beauty of the burn, the glen, and mountains around her. Fragrant heather dotted the brae and meadow, along with bluebells and other assorted wildflowers. Highland cows and sheep grazed on sweet tender shoots of grass and a pair of hawks circled in unison overhead, in what she guessed was a mating ritual as old as time.

  Spring had always been Katherine’s favorite time of year and this one had proved to be more glorious than others she recalled.

  “I nary tire of looking at you, lass. You always manage to take my breath away.” A warrior wearing a chainmail tunic, padded gambeson, trews, and leather gauntlets rode into the clearing on a black destrier. He quickly dismounted and strode toward her with purpose. “Have you been here long, ma gaol?”

  Katherine smiled up at him. “Long enough. I am na a lass who likes to be kept waiting. You’re lucky I dinna leave before you arrived,” she answered playfully.

  “Is that so? Then, you’d have missed out on this.” He slid his arm around her waist, drew her against his chest, and nipped at her lower lip. “And this.” He buried his head in the curve of her neck, suckled lightly, then feathered kisses upward until he reached her mouth.

  Enveloped in warmth and bombarded by desire that ravaged her body like a wildfire out of control, she leaned into his embrace, her stomach doing a quick flip and moist heat pooling between her thighs. Her knees suddenly weak, she fisted his tunic for support. “You know it is na easy to get away from home and na have my da or meddlesome brother follow me,” she mumbled against his lips, then kissed his cheek.

  “When we’re married, you’ll only answer to one man.” He lowered his head and nibbled at her bottom lip again. “Me.” A possessive growl rumbled in his chest as he tightened his hold and kissed her soundly. He slid the tip of his tongue across her mouth, willing her to open to his sweet invasion. When she gasped with pleasure, he deepened the kiss, plundering without mercy.

  Breathless, she planted her hands on his chest and shoved until their kiss was broken. “If we marry.” She lifted gaze until it met with his, then slowly took in the contours of his finely chiseled features. He was the handsomest man she’d ever seen and what he could do to her insides with just his presence had to be a sin. But he was not her father’s choice for a husband.

  His brows dipped. “Dinna toy with me, lass. You know we’re meant to be together and it’s only a matter of time afore we wed,” he replied. “In fact, I plan to speak with your da this evening at the feast. I’m going to ask for your hand and his permission to marry you before the garrison heads out to challenge the English bastards who threaten to take Stirling Castle.”

  “When do you leave?” She clung to his shirt.

  “Two days hence.”

  She clutched a hand to a knot of emotion choking her throat. “Why even if my father did agree to our union, there isna enough time to have the banns read.”

  “We can dispense with the reading if the priest so chooses. And if I have my way, by this time on the morrow, we’ll be husband and wife.” His brows shot up and mischievous grin tugged at his lips. “And after a night of wedded bliss, you’ll be glad to see me go, thankful for the rest.”

  “What if the priest refuses or my da says nay?”

  A stern expression darkened his features, his gaze intense. “Leave your da to me. I’ll have no talk about what if. Na when we have this time alone together now,” he said, his voice hard edged. Wasting no time, he scooped her into his arms and carried her to patch of soft grass beneath an old oak tree and gently lay her upon it. “You’re mine and let no man say otherwise.”

  When he sprawled out beside her and pulled her into his embrace, Katherine offered no resistance. Instead, she lightly traced his lips with her fingertips and sighed. “If truth be known, I want to marry you more than my next breath, and will do whatever it takes for us to be together.”

  And why wouldn’t she welcome their union? He was the oldest son of a laird and stood to be a chieftain someday. Not that she cared about title or wealth. It was the man inside that she adored, not what he had to offer in the way of land or riches. But he was fine to look at. He was tall, well-muscled, brave and honorable, yet treated her with the utmost gentleness and reverence. He looked upon her as his equal, not his property—rare for a man in his day. The fact he was a braw feast for her eyes to behold and could turn her inside out with merely a glance, didn’t hurt either. Theirs was a marriage made in heaven.

  So why wasn’t she thrilled about the prospects of becoming his wife?

  She frowned, a feeling of dread twisting her gut. Something from deep in the recesses of her soul told her their marriage would never take place, not without much hardship and heartache.

  He stroked her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “What troubles you, sweeting?”

  Tears welled in her eyes and she blinked them away. “I dinna wish for you to go with the warriors to Stirling. I fear something terrible will befall you there, and we might na see each other again.”

  “What would you have me do? I’m a son of Scotland. It’s my duty to defend her soil. I promise to return to you.” He rolled her beneath him, lowered his head, and captured her lips.

  ~ * ~

  “Mr. MacBain and Mr. Murray are ready to see you now?” The secretary touched her shoulder. “It appears you nodded off.”

  Katherine yawned and stretched. Part of her wanted to wake up, yet part of her wanted to stay asleep forever. This wasn’t the first time she’d had this dream. And something told her she belonged with her dashing knight, in another place and time. The vastness of her emotions and love for this figment of her imagination was how a relationship between a man and woman should be. But he was from the 14th Century and she was from the twenty-first. An impossible scenario to say the least. Hell, she didn’t even know his name.

  The secretary pointed to the door. “They’re waiting for you, my dear.”

  “Now, they’re in a freaking hurry,” Katherine grumbled and stood. But as she approached the door, she heard the raised voices of the two men. They appeared to be engaged in a heated argument.

  “Nay, Duncan, the requirements are verra clear. For the lass to inherit the croft, she must comply with the terms outlined in her aunt’s will,” one man said.

  “I’m aware of what the document dictates, Malcolm. However, the lass isna from Scotland and might na be willing to abide by her aunt’s requests. In which case, all will be lost,” the other man countered.

  “Aye, what you’re saying is true, Duncan, but we are bound by the terms stipulated and the lass must prove herself worthy. If she refused, we canna—”

&n
bsp; Katherine knocked on the door and pushed it open before either of the men had a chance to respond. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but the secretary told me you were ready to see me. I’m Katherine MacDonald.”

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