Trusted By The Highlander: A Scottish Time Travel Romance

by Rebecca Preston

  She thought back to the luminous, glowing figures. "I'm impressed you could even make out their faces," she said, shaking her head. "I couldn't even look straight at them without blinding myself, so you did a lot better than I did."

  He chuckled. "You get used to the light," was all he said.

  She realized that the road beneath them was beginning to rise as they turned inland, heading for the village, and her eyes widened as the dirt road turned to cobblestones beneath their horses' hooves. The road rose steadily, and before they knew it, they were amongst houses, riding up a wide road that ran straight through the middle of the village. She recognized it straight away from Karen's description — there was the tavern on the corner, and there, in the distance at the highest point of town, stood the church. Between there and here were dozens of little houses, all crowded together… and a surprising number of people out and about.

  In the castle, she'd gotten used to curious looks… and now she was grateful to have been prepared for the way the townsfolk gawked at them. Aelfred didn't seem to mind at all — maybe he was used to it, she thought with a frown — but she couldn't help but glance around at the stares they were getting. Two women leaning on a fence were exchanging comments in low voices, and even though she was dressed in period-appropriate clothing, Melanie felt like she may as well have been wearing a pair of those '2020' glasses people had worn to celebrate the new year. They knew she wasn't from around here, they knew she was a stranger… and fear began to prickle at her for the first time. What if they got the wrong idea about her? What if they thought she was a witch? What if they tried to burn her at the stake and —

  "Good morning!"

  An unfamiliar voice pulled her out of her reflections, and she realized with a jolt that she'd disappeared into her own mind, letting her horse follow along after Aelfred's. It seemed they'd reached their destination — he'd gently guided the gelding to a halt, and even now was sliding down from the horse's back, still a little awkward about extracting his feet from the stirrups — being used to riding bareback would do that to you, she supposed. But her eyes quickly went from Aelfred to the woman who'd spoken to them.

  She was leaning on the gate of a fence that surrounded a little cottage toward the highest point of town, closer to the church at the top than the tavern at the bottom. Melanie recognized her straight away, not from her face, but from her eyes, which were the same silver as Aelfred's — and as Maeve's. The eyes of a Changeling.

  "You must be Leah," Aelfred said brightly, bringing out the bundle he had tucked away inside his cloak and striding towards her. "It's wonderful to meet you. I am Aelfred Grant, and this is my companion Melanie Orwell."

  Leah turned those curious silver eyes to Melanie as she slid down from her horse and approached the gate. "Another traveler?"

  "In a way," Melanie said with a smile, not sure whether they should get into the full story just yet. Leah gestured for them to follow her inside, leaving their horses on a loose tether so they could crop the sweet grass that grew by the roadside. She was a handsome woman, perhaps a few years older than Melanie, with a head of dark red hair that set off those bright silver eyes beautifully. But it seemed she lived here alone — there was just one pair of boots by the door, and no signs of a husband or a family in the home, either. Curious. A woman like that would surely have her pick of men… perhaps she, like Melanie, had always preferred her own company.

  Aelfred presented her with the gift, which she seemed delighted with, quickly digging out a pat of fresh butter and cutting the bread to share with her guests. The three of them sat around her dining table in the warm kitchen at the back of the cottage, and Melanie realized how hungry she was, her stomach growling at the sight of the fresh bread, slathered with butter…

  "Now we're away from prying ears," Leah said brightly. "Tell me everything. How are the Sidhe?"

  "When were you last there?" Aelfred asked, smiling.

  "It's been three years on this side of the Burgh," Leah said, shaking her head. "I know that's of no help."

  "Last I was there, everyone was well," Aelfred said. "There had been a little political upheaval with … " He hesitated, frowning, and Leah laughed.

  "You're trying to name one, aren't you. It's impossible to speak their names, this side of the Burgh. But could you be speaking of Glimmerbright?"

  Aelfred tilted his head. "Perhaps. His friend was killed by —"

  "That's the one," Leah agreed. "There was quite a bit of chaos on this side of the Burgh when he came over to make mischief in vengeance — but one of the travelers from the castle tricked him with wordplay."

  "A human bested a Sidhe?" Aelfred looked flabbergasted as he took a bite of his bread. "That's a rare thing."

  "That was Julia!" Melanie's eyes widened — she'd heard this side of the story from her friend. "The elf called Glimmerbright, right? He wanted to marry her, to take her back to the Fae with him to be his queen."

  Leah and Aelfred exchanged glances. "It's a translation of his name, I suppose, though he's no elf," she said softly, smiling. "You know Julia?"

  "She's one of the women who —" She hesitated, and Leah smiled.

  "It's alright, Melanie. I know all about the women of the castle — of how far you've traveled," she said meaningfully. "I've made that trip myself, though not from quite as far afield as you, I'd warrant."

  "Tell us about it?" Aelfred said immediately, leaning forward.

  "Absolutely." Leah's smile lit up her face. "We can all trade stories, how about that?"

  Chapter 18

  They sat for hours in that little kitchen, finishing the loaf of bread between them as they took turns speaking. Leah told them all about her own travels to the Fae. It seemed she'd been a young woman trapped in a marriage to a man who was nothing but cruel to her — but her parents had pressured her into the match. They were desperately poor and claimed that no better suitor would come for her if she waited, and they couldn't afford a spinster. She'd gone off to the man's house and been installed as his live-in maid and servant, doing everything for him while he barely lifted a finger.

  "It was no kind of life," she confided, shaking her head heavily. "Within weeks I was desperate for any escape — even death. My deepest fear was that I'd fall pregnant and be forced to bring a child into that life, too. Then I'd never escape him. Maggie helped me," she said with a smile. "I'll always be in her debt. She taught me which herbs would keep me from falling pregnant, when to take them, how to conceal it from my husband. For a full year, he waited for me to give him a son… but my womb stayed mercifully empty."

  A shiver ran down Melanie's spine. The idea of being trapped in a marriage was one thing, but to feel your husband pressuring you into bearing his children… it was a nightmare. "Anyway, he lost patience with me soon enough when he realized I wasn't going to conceive," she said with a shake of her head. "He had begun to suspect that I was doing it intentionally, defying him on purpose… which I suppose I was, though he had no way of knowing that. On the night that the Sidhe took me away, I know he was going to kill me. And then… then I was with them." A beautiful smile wreathed her face. "And I knew I was finally safe. Safe… and free, for the first time in my life. I've never wanted to give up that freedom — and I never have."

  "What happened when you came back?" Melanie wanted to know. "Did he recognize you?"

  "No," Leah said, shrugging her shoulders a little. "He was nowhere to be found. And nobody seems to remember him, either. This was our house," she added, gesturing around the little kitchen. "I found everything exactly as I left it… except that my husband was gone without a trace."

  Melanie felt a shiver run down her spine. "How did they do that?"

  "I have no idea," Leah said simply. "But I'm more grateful to them than I can possibly say." Her silver eyes gleamed. "But what about you? Tell us your tale."

  She did her best to make the future details clear — Leah, like Aelfred, was fascinated by what she said about the future, about c
ars and houses and skyscrapers, computers and modern medicine… but she was very amused to learn that even after five hundred years, marital problems remained almost identical.

  "There's a woman in the village whose husband sleeps around just the same way," she chuckled, shaking her head. "Good to know that people never do change."

  She wasn't surprised to learn, though, that Melanie had nearly been killed before the Sidhe snatched her up from the jaws of death, healed her and sent her through to this strange place. "They only take people away who need to be taken," she said softly. And then her eyes moved to Aelfred, who had been oddly quiet as the stories had been told. Melanie had suspected that he'd been quiet because his mouth had been full of bread, but the look on his face now made her suspect that something else was at play. "Tell us about your story, Aelfred. Who were you before the Fae took you?"

  "I don't know," he said softly. "That's just the thing. I barely remember. I was so young when they took me away. I don't know why they felt the need to take me from my family, from my home. I remember my mother, that's about it. I remember that she loved me, that she protected me, kept me safe… I remember her promising that she'd do anything to make sure nobody ever harmed me."

  Leah tilted her head to the side. "Were you in danger?"

  "I don't think so. But I was a child. What do children know of danger?" He was silent for a long time. "She had eyes like you," he added, looking up at Leah. "I remembered the moment I saw you. Silver eyes."

  "Did she name you?" Leah asked softly. "Do you know?"

  "I think so."

  "Aelfred. It means friend to the elves… did you know that?"

  "The Sidhe told me," he said with a smile. "I thought it was a coincidence. When I was smaller, I thought it might have been why they took me."

  She hesitated, and Melanie could tell that she was worried about what she was about to say. "Aelfred… the Sidhe only take children from their parents when they need to."

  "I know," he said softly. "I just… can't figure out why they'd have thought that they needed to."

  "Every child I know who was taken to the Fae was a child of an abusive home." She took a deep breath. "I know that may be hard to hear, but…"

  He nodded… but he didn't respond. His eyes were on his hands where they were resting on the table, and the three of them sat like that in solemn reflection for a long time before Leah got to her feet, cleaning up the table a little and pouring the three of them another cup of water. Melanie sipped hers, torn between worry about Aelfred — and not wanting to break the silence in the room.

  "You think your mother was a Changeling?" she asked finally, when the silence grew too much to bear. He looked up at her, his eyes distracted, but he nodded with a small, distant smile.

  "I think so. Of course, I didn't know it at the time, but… well, the other children always said she was odd. Always singing and dancing at strange times."

  "Runs in the family," she pointed out, raising an eyebrow. That won a slightly bigger smile, bashful and rueful.

  "Perhaps."

  Leah rejoined them, and they spoke a little more — though Melanie noticed how studiously the woman avoided the subject of Aelfred's family, of the possible reasons the Sidhe might have had to take him away from them. It didn't seem like his mother had been cruel or abusive to him — just about every story he had of her, every memory he'd kept, was a positive one. Her dancing, her singing songs to him late at night, holding him close and promising to keep him safe no matter what… but if it wasn't his mother who the Sidhe had been trying to rescue him from, who could it have been? His father? She had noticed that he barely mentioned his father… but she recalled him mentioning being afraid of his father. It seemed to upset him, so she thought better of bringing it up. He clearly had some things he needed to process on his own, and she was no therapist. She'd be there to talk if he needed someone — that was all she could do.

  They realized that the afternoon had disappeared in a flash, and Aelfred got to his feet, apologizing at length for taking up so much of Leah's time. She laughed as she rose, too, waving away the apology with a graceful flick of her hands.

  "Don't be silly. The two of you are wonderful company, and more than welcome to visit any time you're in the village."

  She saw the two of them out, waving farewell from the doorstop. Sunset was close, and the air was cool, making Melanie shiver as she drew her cloak a little closer around the shoulders. The horses had put quite a dent in the sweet grass around their hooves, but seemed happy enough to see their riders, their ears perking up as Aelfred and then Melanie swung aboard — she was getting better and better at mounting a horse, she noticed with a pleased little smile, although she was still aware it was far from a graceful process. Aelfred, of course, leapt aboard his gelding as nimbly as a cat, and the two of them waved as they set off down the road toward the Loch.

  He was quiet as they rode, clearly deep in thought, and Melanie was happy enough to enjoy the peace between them. It had been a very pleasant afternoon, and she felt good about having made a new friend in the village — a woman who wasn't one of the eight from her own time, too. But Aelfred was clearly worried, and she suspected she knew what he was worried about.

  "Penny for your thoughts?" she asked finally when they were through the village and riding along the road to the Keep. She could see it in the distance the way she had what felt like years ago when they'd first climbed out of the lake, the torchlight already shining from the men on the walls, keeping the place safe. Aelfred glanced up at her.

  "No need for a penny," he said with a soft smile. "I'm thinking about my family. My human family."

  "What Leah said was pretty serious," she said softly.

  "Yes," he agreed, his eyes on the road. "It's frustrating not to be able to remember much. My mother was nothing but kind to me, I know that much."

  "Where is she now?" Melanie wondered, tilting her head. "Maybe if we could find her, we could figure out what happened."

  "I don't know." He took a deep breath. "Riding through that village… I know that that's not the village that we called home. There was a tavern in town, but it was in the middle, not on the outskirts. Why do I remember that, and so little else?" He sighed.

  "There are other villagers around here," Melanie pointed out. "We just need to figure out which one was yours. Then we can go there and find your mother. I mean, why not? We can both ride now, right?"

  He gave her a grateful smile, though she could tell he was still distracted. "Maybe," he said softly. "I'm a little frightened of what I might find, though. I have a feeling…" He trailed off, and she felt a shiver run down her spine at the look on his face.

  "What feeling?"

  "Something bad," he whispered, almost to himself. "Something bad happened. I don't know anything more specific than that."

  She took a deep breath. "Do you want to know?"

  "Yes."

  "Then we'll find out," she said simply, wishing she could reach out and take his hand in hers, but not wanting to risk falling off her horse when she was trying to have a serious moment with Aelfred. "Together, okay? We'll find the village — someone around here is bound to know which village has a tavern in the middle of it — and we'll ride there, and ask around, and we'll find out what happened. If that's what you want."

  He looked up at her, his eyes burning with gratitude and affection. "It is," he said softly, and she could tell he meant it. "Very much. But… Melanie —"

  "What?"

  A smile twitched at his lips. "I'm falling further and further into your debt, that's all."

  She laughed at that, a mixture of frustration and amusement in the sound. "Aelfred! I'm a human. You know we don't — think like that. At least, I don't." She took a deep breath, suddenly a little cautious about how much she was revealing of her feelings, here. "I'm… you're my friend, Aelfred. Friends help each other."

  "Friends," he echoed softly, looking at her across the suddenly too-small space between the
ir horses.

  She felt her heart almost seem to stop beating and leap up into her throat at the look on his face. Thoughtful, curious… as though there was a question he was just about to ask, a question he couldn't quite think of the right words for… she couldn't bear any more eye contact and turned away, fixing her gaze on the distant castle and hearing him sigh softly in response. Coward, she told herself.

  But then he spoke. "I am happier than I can say to call you my friend, Melanie Orwell."

  "Me too," she said softly, chancing a glance at him… and the warmth in his smile stopped her from feeling the chill of the night wind for the rest of their trip back to the castle.

  That night, after a rather simple dinner — she was still full to bursting of the delicious bread they'd shared with Leah — she headed up to bed, lost in her thoughts. The trip to Leah's had been very pleasant, but she couldn't help but feel that it had raised more questions than it had actually answered… and she wasn't blind to how much it seemed to have disturbed the usually cheerful and easygoing Aelfred. He seemed lost in thought, deeply distracted, a frown lingering in the furrow of his brow that didn't seem at home on his handsome face. He was worried about what she'd said about the Sidhe taking children from abusive homes, she could tell. And though he'd said he wanted to learn more, he'd been evasive when she'd tried to settle on a day to make the trip to the village that he'd called home as a child.

  He just needs time, she told herself firmly. It was a lot to deal with, confronting the truth of your own past… especially when there were likely to be unpleasant details coming out of the woodwork. What if he discovered that his mother, instead of being the kind, loving woman he remembered, had actually been cruel to him? Didn't people often block out or forget traumatic memories? Maybe that was what had happened. Or maybe it was another family member who'd meant him harm… an uncle or aunty, perhaps. Possibly even his father? He rarely spoke about his father, or even acknowledged that a father must exist… all of his stories about his childhood concerned his mother. Was there a reason for that omission?