Lost in the Highlands, Volume One

by Lorraine Beaumont

  That was surely one way to get the rushes clean, Gavin mused. He looked over his shoulder at the lass hanging between Callum and Muir. “Take her ta my chamber.”

  “Do ye want her on yer bed?” asked Callum shifting her legs under his arms.

  “God no!” Gavin shook his head. “Put her on the floor.” He stood there waiting but neither of the boys had moved. “What?” He glared at them.

  “Do we put something on the floor? It tis awfully chilly in here,” Callum said, shifting uncomfortably.

  “Ye can use one of the older furs.” Gavin exhaled. “Not the good ones…understand?”

  “Yes.” Callum and Muir both nodded.

  Gavin widened his eyes. “What are ye waiting for? Take her upstairs.”

  Both Muir and Callum carried her up the stairs.

  Gavin only saw them hit her head twice on the way up - that was something, he supposed.

  ♦

  “Look at what ye have done, Callum.” Muir shook his head disparagingly. “Now he is in a bad way.”

  “Me?” Callum gasped. “I just asked whether we should put the lass on the cold floor. Think ye he would have a care with this new one since he nearly killed the last one before he sent her off.” He shook his head morosely. “She made good bread, though.” Callum swallowed hard. “Where’d ye think he sent her ta?”

  Muir shook his head. “I don’t know and I don’t think I want ta truly find out.”

  Callum gasped. “Think ye he sent her ta the loch?”

  “That is just a silly superstition,” Muir said trying to keep the quivering edge from his voice.

  “If it’s just a silly superstition, why is yer voice shaking like a wee scared lassie?”

  “Ye’ll be sorry for that.” Muir dropped his burden and made a lunge for Callum.

  Callum did the same and jumped across the room, dodging Muir. Back and forth, they faced off against one another, ducking, lunging, and exchanging blows with each other.

  “Cease both of ye,” Alec yelled as he came to stand inside the door. “By the saints above, ye stupid fools, I think ye have broken her.”

  Both Callum and Muir looked down at the girl.

  Callum bent over, straightened the strange crick in her leg, and tossed an old fur on top of her. He shoved his hand through his hair. “What? She looks fine ta me.”

  Muir crossed his arms. “Callum, think ye we should put the fur underneath her?”

  “Ye both better hope she wakes up, if not Laird Grey will have both yer heads on a platter and be serving them up as an offering to the monster of Loch Morar.

  “Och, Muir, ye lied.” Callum shivered. “The monster does exist.”

  Muir shrugged. “How do I know? I have never seen a monster in the Loch.”

  Callum’s eyes widened. “We have a monster in our Loch?”

  Alec rolled his eyes. “Where do ye think all the people go?”

  “Ta another town.”

  “Ye keep telling yerself that Callum.” Alec shook his head and walked out of the room.

  Callum looked at Muir. “We should probably put the fur under her like ye said.”

  “Can we use more than one fur?” Muir asked.

  “I don’t think we should, Laird Grey said ta use the bad one. He didn’t say anything about two bad ones.”

  Muir looked over at the bed skeptically. “They all look in a bad way ta me, how’d ye know which one ta take?”

  “It was easy,” Callum boasted. “I took the one with the least amount of fur on it.”

  Muir sighed and shook his head. “Come on, let’s roll her over on the fur before Laird Grey comes and sees the mess we made.”

  “Och, is she bleeding then?” Callum asked, leaning over, pushing her hair away from her face.

  Muir bent down and did a quick inspection of her head. “Not anymore.” He stood up. “I’m sure it was just a scratch anyway. Remember she hit her own head by the Loch.”

  Callum’s eyes widened. “Think ye Alec is telling the truth about the monster?”

  Muir shook his head. “I don’t know and I am not in any hurry ta find out.”

  “Why do ye think we haven’t heard about this fierce monster before now?”

  Muir shrugged. “Mayhap it wasn’t time ta feed it.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  LOCH MORAR, SCOTLAND

  Sometime during the reign of King James

  The expanse of a very chiseled naked torso was the first thing Paige saw when the darkness receded. Blinking, she tried to focus her eyes better as it was a very fine-looking chest, and if she was dreaming, she wanted to memorize every inch.

  A large tub was placed in the center of a rather spacious stone room… well… it was more like a barrel, with cloths draped over the sides.

  Steam emitted from the top.

  The rest of his clothing fell to the floor.

  He turned towards her.

  Wow.

  A flush of heat burned her face. She swallowed hard. Who the heck was he? She felt like she should pinch herself to make sure she was awake, but then again, if she was dreaming, she wasn’t altogether sure she wanted to wake up…

  “Are ye planning on feasting yer eyes on my fine form all day?” He lifted a dark brow.

  His heavy brogue rolled off his tongue and she couldn’t understand a word. She lifted her eyes to his face and her breath caught. Paige remembered him immediately. His blue-green gaze, unforgettable, never wavered. “Uh, what did you say?”

  He exhaled heavily and scrubbed his hands over his face. “I said,” he articulated with a surprisingly less amount of brogue. “Come, wash my back woman. I do not have all day.” He climbed into the tub and sat down.

  Once his body was submerged and out of her line of view, her sense came back.

  “Excuse me?” Her temper flared. How rude! “I’ll have you know…whoever you are. I am not your personal back scrubber.” Turning in a huff, she crossed the room, grabbed hold of the handle on the large wooden door and yanked. “Heathen,” she muttered under her breath.

  “Where are ye headed lass?” he sighed audibly, lifting his leg and splashing water over the top.

  She turned back around. “I’m going to get my money back, that’s where I’m headed,” she informed him using her sternest voice and turned back towards the door.

  “Yer money?” He made a snorting noise. “I don’t think ye will have much luck finding yer coin at this juncture, lass.”

  “Wanna bet?” She whirled back to face him and once again, she was taken aback by how handsome he was. At least the gypsy got that part right.

  “Leave if ye like, but if ye stay ye will wash my back.” He lifted his brow as though he was daring me to say otherwise.

  “I think I’ll take my chances,” she informed him.

  “Suit yerself.”

  Not having any other option at this point, Paige headed out of his room into the drafty stone hallway. Wrapping her arms around her stomach, she followed the sound of voices to the top of the stairs. The room below was filled with men, all of who were in various stages of undress. She counted them and there were twelve total that she could see. Two smaller versions of the tub she had just seen were in front of the large fireplace.

  The men were pulling sticks and then laughing. She remembered the one boy from earlier. He and his friend were the ones that threw her into that damn water. He pulled out a short stick and by the look on his face, he wasn’t very happy with his draw.

  Not having any other choice, she took a reviving breath and headed down the stairs. However, the closer she came to the bottom, she felt she might have been a bit hasty in her decision to vacate the premises. Not one of the men said a word to her or bothered to cover up.

  It was hard not to stare, but somehow, she managed to keep her eyes on the door across the hall, although she could certainly see plenty in her peripheral

  A heady musky smell resonated in the room accompanied by a light scent of Lavender. Neither belonge
d in such close proximity to the other and yet, somehow, she found it to be a pleasing aroma just the same. Once across the room, she grabbed hold of the cold metal handle, pushed through the doors and stepped outside. “Oh Hell!

  ♦

  “Where’d ye think she is going?” asked Callum.

  “The same place they all go,” Muir said, wiping down the blade of his dirk with a cloth.

  “Where might that be?” whispered Callum, leaning forward.

  “Ta take a gander outside, I suppose.”

  “Why would she do that?” asked Callum, his brow creased in confusion. “Tis too dark ta see anything at this hour—the moon is not even shining.”

  “Och, tis nothing new, the lass will be back shortly,” said Muir.

  “How’d ye know, Muir? Can ye read minds now, is that it?” Callum crossed his arms indignantly.

  “Mayhap I can,” Muir laughed and cuffed him on his ear. “Tis dark Callum and the last time I checked no wee lass is going ta want to stay out in the night pitched in blackness alone, at least not for verra long.”

  “Well, I don’t think she’s coming back.”

  “Ye care ta place a small wager then,” asked Muir.

  “What do ye want ta bet?”

  “I will bet yer second helpings at breakfast.”

  “My second helpings?” Callum made a face. “Och that is too steep a price ta pay for such a thing. What do I get if I am right and ye are wrong?”

  “Ye can have my second helpings at breakfast for an entire week.”

  “A week ye say?” Callum crossed his arms and stroked his chin, thinking. “I want yer turn bathing as well,” Callum added as an afterthought.

  Muir shrugged. “Suit yerself but if we are betting that as well, I also get your turn bathing if the stick ye pulled is better than the one I pull.”

  “Fine, it is a deal then,” Callum said.

  “Alec, will ye bear witness ta this bet?” Muir asked.

  “Aye, why not,” he said, stepping up to take his turn in the tub. The water was already a light shade of brown. He unbelted his kilt, draped it over the back of a chair, and climbed inside. Reaching up he pulled a strip of leather from his hair; the length fell in soft waves down his back as he settled down into the water.

  “Well?” Muir held out his hand.

  Callum reached out and took his hand. “Yes, we have a deal.” They shook hands then turned toward the door and waited.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  LOCH MORAR, SCOTLAND

  Sometime during the reign of King James

  “Way to go, Paige!” She threw her hands up in the air and couldn’t even see them. It didn’t go unnoticed to her that the room she had just walked through looked like it should be in another era, as did the several men in various stages of undress. And now, with nothing but blackness in front of her, the idea of scrubbing off the back of a Highlander… err… correction… a very handsome Highlander, who also had a very broad, muscular back…

  A strange scraping sound cut through the darkness like a knife. She turned, but she couldn’t see where it was coming from, let alone see what it was.

  “Oh hell!”

  Not having any better options at the moment, she reached out in the darkness until her hand closed over the cool metal handle. Jerking open the door, she headed back inside the castle.

  Once again, her view was of several men in various stages of undress. Her eyes flitted to the left and then the right as she hustled quickly across the room. When she reached the stairs, she lifted her skirts and practically ran the rest of the way to his door.

  ♦

  “Ha!” Muir slapped Callum on the back. “I told ye she would be back.”

  Callum brooded.

  “What’s this, Callum?” Muir peered closely at his face.

  “Och, Muir, if I didn’t know better I’d think ye cheated.”

  Muir made a disgusted grunt. “I didn’t know ye were such a sore loser Callum.” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter anyway,” he said. “I still get yer second helpings at breakfast for the next week.”

  Callum’s eyes boggled. “I didn’t say ye could have my second helpings for an entire week.”

  “Ye did too,” Muir argued.

  “No.” Callum adamantly shook his head back and forth. “I said ye could have one of my second helpings at breakfast and ye said if I won I would get a week of yer second helpings at breakfast.”

  “Och, Callum…” Muir shook his head solemnly. “I never figured ye for a liar.”

  “Take that back Muir,” Callum snapped, putting his fists up. “I will not have ye sully my good name,” he spat. “And if ye don’t take back what ye said I will be forced to seek retribution.”

  Muir crossed his arms. “And what retribution might that be, Callum?”

  “I WI—will’,” Callum sputtered. “Put my boot right up yer hairy arse.”

  Muir scoffed. “Try it Callum and I will cuff yer ears again and make ye cry like a wee girl like I did the last time ye tried ta fight with me.”

  Alec rose from the tub. “Cease both of ye else I will be the one shoving my boot up both ye arses.”

  Callum gave Muir a smug look of satisfaction.

  Alec stepped over the rim of the tub and used a drying cloth to remove the excess water and few pieces of debris that had settled on his muscular thighs from the bath. He looked at Callum. “I witnessed the bet. Ye have to give Muir yer second helpings at breakfast and now, yer turn bathing as well.” He lifted his plaid, tossed it over his shoulder, and walked away from the tub.

  Callum looked over at the water. It was an even darker shade of brown than before. He shook his head. He’d be lucky if he even got clean now.

  ♦

  The door to his room was slightly ajar. She peeked through the opening, watching. His head was back against the rim of the makeshift tub and his hair fell over the side.

  The gypsy’s words came back to her…

  “Take the basket of offerings lass, ta the top of the mountain, cross over the screaming bridge ta the other side and the Highlander ye seek will come fer ye.”

  At the time, she was still a bit drunk, wallowing in an ample amount of self-pity and being a mite fanciful. She wanted a Highlander and if she had to carry a basket across a screaming bridge, a mile up in the air to the top of the mountain and wait for him to come for her, she didn’t see anything wrong with it…well, not terribly wrong. However, the old bat never said anything about being a…. once again, her words came back to haunt her.

  “Be careful what ye wish for lass, it jes might come true.”

  Paige looked across the room with new eyes. It was an adequate room, that is, if you were living in a castle in the past. The sparse furnishing scattered throughout consisted of a large four-posted bed, filled with numerous furs, with a rather sizeable trunk at the bottom that looked like it should be filled with treasure, a table with a chair and a rather pretty screen with paintings of animals and fauna over in the far corner. She couldn’t see what was behind it.

  “Lass, come inside and shut the door.”

  The sound of his voice startled her.

  “How did you know I was here?” She walked through the door and shut it, just as he instructed.

  “I could hear yer breathing from across the room. I kept waiting for ye ta hit the floor.”

  “Why would I hit the floor?”

  He turned and lifted his brow a notch. “From swooning,” he explained.

  “Swooning?” She gaped. “Why would I do such a thing?”

  “Ye were ogling my body with yer eyes, I could sense it.”

  “Oh, please,” she scoffed. “Get over yourself.” Even though that was exactly what she was doing.

  He gave her a doubtful look. “There is no need to tell lie’s ta me, lass.”

  “I am not….” Oh, what was the point? She gave up. He was right. She was lying. “Where am I… exactly?”

  “Ye are in Greystone Castle, las
s.”

  “I know I am in a damn castle!” She stomped her foot in irritation.

  He gave her a warning glance. “There is no need to vent yer anger at me, lass. Obviously ye are the one who struck a deal with the gypsy.”

  That took the wind out of her sails. She did make a deal with the gypsy but what bothered her was how he even knew about it.

  “I can see ye are surprised I know about the agreement, aye?”

  She merely nodded her head.

  “Ye must have agreed or ye would no be here. Now ye are bound ta me.”

  “Bound?”

  “Aye, lass.” He exhaled as though he was tiring of our conversation. “Did ye let her draw yer blood?”

  “Well…yes but….”

  “Then what is the problem?”

  “Well…” Paige wasn’t sure how to answer that. What was her problem? She did ask for a Highlander and here one was right in front of her, looking better than she could have ever imagined…

  Now that he put it that way, she wasn’t sure why she was so upset. Well, besides the obvious reasons. She thought, well, she wasn’t real sure what she thought, other than being a bit too drunk to think clearly at the time.

  “I thought it wasn’t real,” she finally said.

  He laughed. It was a hearty sound and warmed her immediately. “If ye thought it wasn’t real, then why did ye agree, lass?”

  Stupidity.

  Scratch that.

  That wasn’t the truth. The truth was… it was wishful thinking. She wanted a Highlander and wished for one, and like the gypsy said, she now had one.

  Now that she compartmentalized it, she really had no idea what her problem was. She should be ecstatic, not partially irritated and the other part…freaking out. (Well, maybe she should be freaking out a bit) she amended.