by Fiona Faris
He ran a long, sure finger across the Atlantic Ocean in front of him and seemed to contemplate his thoughts carefully before answering. His voice became dark, and he looked through her rather than at her. When he finally answered, Amelia wasn’t sure he was speaking to her at all. “The worst would be the dungeons, lass, and trust me ’tis no place for a lady.”
They stayed silent for a moment, Amelia understanding the darkness in him. He had spent enough of his life in dungeons and dark places. She stood and joined him at the globe, spinning it on its axis and marveling in the intricate designs of cherubs and mythological creatures as it turned. A constant reminder of time passing. She grabbed Gavin’s hand. Suddenly excited, she allowed herself a small pleasure in the heat of his calloused fingertips as his hand grasped hers.
A thought occurred to her. If it only took an invitation to get to Cabduh — and the MacGilles were an allied clan — she herself was practically a MacGille; if not technically, at least adjacently.
She had a fantastic idea. Careful to keep her tone light, not wanting to risk Gavin’s anger at such a forward suggestion, she leaned in and spoke softly. Flashing the most brilliant smile, she could manage when standing so close to a man such as he.
“Maybe Lucas would ask for an invitation for me?”
His response, however, was not anything like what she expected. Instead of anger, or rejection, Gavin’s laugh filled the room. Gavin struck her as a man unaccustomed to laughter.
“Lass, ye must be mad!”
He was laughing at her. If Amelia wasn’t so annoyed, she might have stopped to appreciate the velvety thickness of his burr and the twinkle in his eyes. But as it stood, she didn’t know whether she wanted to slap him or kiss him, and that bothered her a great deal, indeed.
Chapter Five
Gavin meant what he said. The woman, no matter how enchanting, how beautiful, was mad as a hatter. For her to ask Lucas to secure an invitation to the Mad Laird of Cabduh? Or worse, ask him to do it for her? If it wasn’t so preposterous, he might actually be tempted to shake some sense into the lass.
“I’m not mad!” Gavin could see he angered her with his laughter, but it felt too good to stop. He hadn’t laughed in ages. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her toward him. Looking intently at the blue-eyed, golden-haired angel in front of him, he couldn’t help but keep laughing. “It’s not a thing to be laughing at, Gavin! I mean it. I insist you stop laughing this instant!”
She tried to pull away, but it only made him want her closer. She was enchanting, determined, and angry. Gavin knew he should feel guilty for being so aroused by the lass, but he could not help himself.
Oh, but she is bonny when she’s angry. He inhaled deeply as he tried to regain control.
“You said yourself that the only way to be allowed into Cabduh is by invitation, why would it be so funny to you that I ask Lucas to secure such an invite? I need to learn more, and it seems the only place to learn it is in Cabduh Keep.”
“Och, lass. Yer right, I shouldnae hae laughed, but the idea of Lucas willingly sending the sister of his beloved wife intae that place is funny.” He didn’t even try to keep the sarcasm from his tone, yet Amelia did not pick up on it. He admired her determination.
“I demand to know why!” He could tell that she would not take his word for it without a more detailed explanation. He took a deep breath, still trying to remove any mirth from his voice.
“Ye’ve seen much of Scotland in th’ last few years haven’t ye lass?”
“I have.” She nodded. He expected as much. He wasn’t sure exactly where or how her life had shaped up since she left Perth, but she didn’t look any worse for the wear. It led him to believe she was used to a certain level of comfort. A comfort she would not find in the lands run by Clive Cabduh and his men. He briefly thought of Tristan Cabduh and wondered how his friend was faring since returning to his father’s keep. How different the clan would be were Tristan to take up the mantle of laird.
“Not all lairds are like Lucas, and not all keeps are run like Cadney or even the MacKenzie Keep, th’ neighbors to our west where Milly & Nathan are Laird an’ Lady. Nay, not all families hae had th’ same luck an’ skill as th’ MacGilles an’ MacKenzies. Cabduh, well, Cabduh is the worst by far.”
“How so?” Gavin knew he wouldn’t be able to shake the notion from of her mind simply with a dire warning.
“Cabduh is a dark place. I’ve only been there once myself as a lad. The lands are filled with craggy rock and gorse, which makes it hard tae grow proper food or keep cattle. There is no loch close enough tae claim, so there are nay fish or fertile soils.
“The people are hungry and must trade for a good deal of the food they need tae sustain themselves. The laird is a paranoid sort. He hates the English more than he hates anythin’ else. He fears all science and learnin’. Calls it out for witchcraft when he sees it practiced. His council doesn’t sit often, and rumor has it, if they do, they always side with the laird on all issues lest a dissident be put in the dungeons.”
“It does indeed sound awful. Why do the people stay? Why not leave and join another clan?” She looked up at him with soulful eyes. Unafraid, but filled with paid and emotion for the people of the Cabduh clan. His heart gave an extra beat. Amelia’s heart was so large, she could feel emotion for people she has never met, nor was likely to meet. Gavin had never met a woman like her.
“Ahh, ’tis a good question to be sure, lass. Anyone who proves themselves worthy can be taken in by another clan, yet clan life is different from what ye may be used to. Yer clan is more than yer family. It’s yer way of life here in the highlands. There are generations of proud people, warriors, who identify with their clans. It’s nae easy to change. Many of the people of Cabduh doona leave because it’s unfathomable. The connection is deep. Others worry the repercussions to their families and loved ones should they leave. More still worry that their laird may war with another laird over the leavin’ an’ doona wish tae be the cause of such sufferin’. The reasons are many.”
“If Laird Cabduh has information about the lad, our brother, then I must find a way to speak with him, regardless of how his clan fairs, he must have some leadership qualities. Besides, it’s not as if I plan to stay long in his presence.”
“Lass, that doesnae matter with a man like Cabduh. Yer English, there is no guarantee even with an invitation he would nay just throw ye intae the dungeon once he heard yer pleasant accent, regardless of yer bonny face. Ye have tae give up. Years have passed. Mayhap the lad doesnae want tae be found?”
“And, Gavin, where would you be if your sister had just given up? That’s right, I know it was Milly’s love for you and her own persistence that got you out of gaol. How could you ask me to abandon this? It’s all I’ve known for four years! I’ll not just give it up.” She moved toward him again, this time her finger all but speared his chest, with each point she made. She was right, but he was right as well. There had to be a way to get the information she sought without risking her to the mad laird.
He was astonished that the reasoned and leveled response he gave her was not met with crumbling resolve as he expected. Instead, she looked more determined than ever. Amelia was unlike any woman he’d ever met. It was clear she was not going to be dissuaded. She crossed her arms over her chest and took another step away from him, and Gavin found he didn’t like her positioning at all, even though he respected her focus and bravery.
Before he had a chance to argue her point, a loud crash came from the direction of the door. His vision began to tunnel, and all thought left him save for one, save Amelia. He dove for her, crashing them both to the ground, covering her body with his own. As the crashing continued, his breath shallowed.
“Gavin, what…?” His hand clamped down on her mouth. He had to keep her quiet. Their enemies could be great in number and close by. He wouldn’t risk her voice drawing attention. Rapidly scanning the room for anything that could be used as a weapon, he kept one han
d on her mouth and the other firmly on her waist. She fought to get up, but he refused. His years of tactical training and subsequent time in the goals prepared him for this. As stubborn as she was, he needed her to trust him. Something was happening. The crashing and yelling continued.
Suddenly, he was transported back to the battlefield at Dunkled. The air around him chilled with autumn frost. The clank of metal against metal filled the space around him as the moans and cries of the men who had been put down by the British became oppressive in their bleakness. He needed to find his father, Lucas, anyone to help navigate through the disaster and bloodshed. Then, smoke filled what was left of his vision, and a hollow ringing began to overwhelm him. Starting first in one ear, then quickly moving into the other, replacing the sounds of battle. All around him was darkness. Where was the enemy coming from? Were they surrounded? His senses should have honed, warning him of an attack before it happened. He had learned to trust the tingling in his fingers and legs that told him to be poised to strike if needed. However, the feeling was missing. Something was definitely wrong. If only he could figure out what. The moans of the men changed. He was hungry, so very hungry. Everyone was ill. The smell of rotting flesh and disease entered his nose, he struggled to breathe.
“Ye can beat me as much as ye need, bastards. I’ll nae let ye win!” he screamed into the nothingness. “Doona hide in th’ shadows. Show yerself and fight me like a man!” His arms were no longer anchored, he flailed unseeing. He needed softness, her softness. Where was she?
“Amelia!” he shouted again. They took her. They would not listen to him. They took her away, and all that remained was darkness. “Amelia!”
Chapter Six
Amelia didn’t know what was happening. One moment she and Gavin were arguing about Cabduh and the next a crash from the hall forced him to propel her to the floor, and then something happened. She wouldn’t have been able to explain it if asked directly, but somehow Gavin simply disappeared. He didn’t disappear in the physical sense. He was literally on top of her, but his eyes glazed over, and his breathing became labored. It was as if he was frozen in some far away time.
“Ye can beat me as much as ye need, bastards. I’ll nae let ye win!” he shouted out, and Amelia instantly knew. He was not with her in the library at all. He was back in Perth. It was as if the sound of whatever crashed outside triggered an involuntary response in him. He was at war all over again.
“Doona hide in th’ shadows. Show yerself and fight me like a man!” He was frantically waving his arms as if he had a sword or weapon of some kind and couldn’t see his enemy.
“Gavin,” she whispered. “Shh now, it’s all right. I’m here.” She ran her hand across his brow. He had broken into a sheen of cool sweat. He looked at her for a moment, and she thought he had come back, but then he backed away again as if she were his enemy.
Another loud clatter crashed through the silence of the library. This time, instead of metal that sounded before, it sounded like wood on wood; something large. It was definitely coming from the hallway. They were in the center of the large library, and nothing was amiss.
The crashing continued, and Amelia desperately wanted to rush into the hallway and see what the ruckus was all about, but Gavin was in no state to be left alone. As much as he had just angered her, she was connected to him. She knew or at least suspected what ailed him. She wouldn’t leave him like this.
He had moved off into the far corner of the library, behind the large wooden desk, and was now gently rocking, back and forth. His eyes fixated on something beyond Amelia, beyond the very room they were in. He shouted her name, “Amelia!” She ran to him.
“Gavin, I’m here.”
“Amelia!” he shouted again. She didn’t know what to do. Was he reliving that day so long ago in Perth? Did he think her in danger? How could she snap him out of whatever waking nightmare he was in? She needed to bring him back around. If anyone came in and saw him this way, she knew he would be not only embarrassed but also be potentially unable to control his actions. He could hurt himself or someone else, but she was sure he would not hurt her. No matter what he would not hurt her. She didn’t know how she knew that to be true, but she knew it as surely as she knew herself. Whatever demons Gavin MacGille was fighting, she was the cure, not the cause.
“Gavin!” she shouted at him, so close to his face, he had no choice but to look at her. “I’m here, Gavin, they didn’t get me. I’m right here.” She took his hands into her own and forced his body to stop rocking. “I’m here. It’s me, Amelia!”
“Amelia,” his tone was softer, and Amelia let out the breath she had been holding, as his eyes focused. He looked at her, and she instantly knew he had returned. “What happened?”
“There was a commotion,” she said, looking toward the door. “Out in the hallway. I’m not sure what happened, but you seemed to take leave of yourself?”
“Och…”
Before he could say more the library door opened and two large men came barreling through. Amelia immediately recognized both men from around the keep. Magnus, the larger of the two locked eyes with her and gave a questioning glance. While Thomas, the smaller, yet still rather large by Amelia’s standards was still focused on the hallway. She supposed it did look odd, her and Gavin together on the floor. She quickly stood, encouraging Gavin to do the same, and brushed imaginary dirt from her plaid.
“Excuse me, sir,” she said to Magnus. “All of the noise startled me. I lost my footing, and Sir Gavin was simply helping me to my feet.” She gave Gavin a pleading look she hoped conveyed he should play along. “I’m afraid I’m quite clumsy.”
“Aye, doona fash, lass, ’twas my pleasure.” He was still pale and covered in sweat, but hopefully, Magnus and Thomas didn’t notice.
“My apologies miss,” Magnus said, Amelia noticed he was also slightly distracted. “Lady Amelia, ye haven’t by chance seen two wee devil bairns runnin’ through here, have ye?”
Ahh, that made sense. Of course, the crashing and commotion would be somehow tied to her rambunctious nephews. In her short time at the keep, she’d already noticed destruction seemed to follow them wherever they went. “It was just the boys then?”
“Och, not just boys, as ye say. Two more dangerous beasties I’ve never seen. At least not since their Da and this one here,” Magnus pointed dismissively at Gavin, “were lads, that is.”
Thomas chose that particular moment to turn his focus to the library, and more specifically, toward Gavin.
“What’s wrong with ye, Gav? Ye doona look well at all.”
“Come tae think on it, ye don’t,” Magnus added. “Should I fetch Lady Ella or Violet to take a look at ye?” Amelia knew her sister and Violet worked as healers for the clan, but they were also both heavy with child, and calling more attention to Gavin would only serve to embarrass him.
Amelia, herself, was a fairly decent healer. It was a skill that, like her sister, she had learned from their mother. Although Amelia had been too young to fully grasp everything, her mother tried to teach. More interested in the butterflies and birds in the well-tended herb gardens of their childhood home than the actual lessons in herbs and healing. As she grew older, she had insisted Ella teach her those lessons that she had missed, hoping somehow learning their mother’s skill would help Amelia understand the woman she had lost too soon.
While she had traveled through the Scottish countryside, more than once, those healing skills had come in handy.
“Let’s leave Violet and my sister to their rest. I’ll gladly help Gavin if he isn’t feeling well. Now that we know the castle is not under siege, maybe some fresh air will do us good?” Gavin looked at her, his green eyes shining with relief and thanks.
“Aye, aye, I agree. I’m feeling a little peaked. Most likely, too much drink last night. A wee bit o’ fresh air might do me a service.”
* * *
The air was cool and welcomed. Amelia had quickly rushed from the library and changed into a
day dress before walking in the keep’s gardens with Gavin, and as a result, she was overheated. At least, she told herself as much, and that the warm flush in her skin had nothing to do with being alone for the third time with the handsome, tortured Highlander. She had thought when Magnus and Thomas left the library Gavin would simply thank her, and they would go about their day but was surprised when he insisted on the fresh air and agreed to wait for her as she changed.
“These gardens remind me very much of the gardens back home.” She wasn’t avoiding the topic of what had happened in the library, rather making pleasant conversation, hoping to make Gavin more comfortable to be able to discuss it.
“Aye, before Ella, this was only a tiny kitchen garden. When I was a lad, it was a sad little patch, and Cook could barely keep a cornflower alive. Under yer sister, it’s flourished.”
“Ella was always much better with growing the herbs than anyone, even our mother.” Amelia ran her hands over the last of the season’s lavender and the hearty rosemary. The smells taking her back in time.
