Highlander Hunted: A Scottish Time Travel Romance (Highlander In Time Book 8)

by Rebecca Preston

  "How are you, Helena?" he asked softly.

  She shrugged, aware that she must look a mess, tucked up in bed with tears still streaking her face and the bedclothes all twisted.

  He pulled up a seat beside her bed and rested the plate on the bedside table. "You look a bit under the weather."

  "I feel it," she admitted, shrugging her shoulders. "I just… it's a lot to adjust to, that's all. I'm okay."

  "You're not," he said firmly.

  She felt a twinge of panic as she looked up at his face. What if he thought she was mad? What if he carted her off to lock her up in an insane asylum? She felt her pulse racing… but Brendan just smiled at her.

  "It's okay to be having trouble. Everyone does, sometimes."

  "I'm fine, really," she said, still a little worried about showing weakness to this near stranger.

  But Brendan was still smiling. "You're a lot like Brigid," he said with a smile, sending an odd pang through her body at yet another comparison to this woman she'd never met. "She always used to claim she was fine, even when she fell so ill she could barely get out of bed. It was all I could do to pin her down and force her to admit that she needed to take it easy for a moment. You're like her," he said thoughtfully. "Too strong for your own good."

  Well, that was a little better than trying to drag her to the insane asylum, she supposed. She wished, not for the first time, that she knew a little more about these strange times she was trapped in. "It's not that I'm too strong," she said, rolling her eyes. "I wish it was. I just… don't adjust to things very well." She sighed, fidgeting with the bed covers. "I'm a geologist. That means I study rocks, basically. The earth. Tectonic plates, the way the earth moves and shifts… the impact of time on the planet... that kind of thing. But the earth changes incredibly slowly. I'm not used to change that happens over a shorter timeframe than thousands of years, you know?"

  He was looking at her thoughtfully, clearly mystified by what she was talking about, but an attentive listener regardless. Well, that was nice, at least. None of the guys she'd been on casual dates with had listened especially well. They'd give her a few seconds to talk about geology, then jump in with what they knew about it. Exhausting. This guy at least was willing to listen.

  "Anyway," she shrugged, "give me a few thousand years and I'll be right as rain, I guess."

  "Oh, is that all?" He smiled.

  She found herself laughing a little, surprising herself with how much better she felt after having talked a little about how she was feeling.

  "I can't begin to imagine what you're going through, Helena. Not only moving countries, but across time… it's unbelievable. I talked to Anne a lot — Brigid's late mother," he added, a shadow passing across his face.

  Helena thought of what she'd learned about Anne earlier that day — and decided not to bring it up.

  "She moved here from Ireland, and had a few troubles getting used to the new place. From what I can tell, it just takes time."

  "Time heals all wounds, I guess." Helena sighed. "I just feel… lost. Completely lost. There's nothing here I can relate to, nothing that makes any sense…"

  "It will, in time," Brendan said simply. "And for now…" He reached over, carefully lifting the cover from the plate he'd brought up with him.

  Her eyes widened as she saw what was revealed — several little pastries with what looked like dark berry insides, still gently steaming with warmth.

  "I don't know about you, but I always find that dessert helps me feel better when I'm down."

  "I suppose I could try it," she said, a smile spreading across her face as she reached for a pastry. "How'd you know about my sweet tooth?" That shadow crossed his face again, and she sighed. "Brigid again?"

  "Aye," he said softly. "She loved sweets more than anything. I'm sorry, if that makes you feel strange," he added, looking at her. "I don't mean to compare you, but…"

  "I guess it's hard not to, if I look just like her." Helena sighed, taking a bite of the pastry… and quickly distracting herself from the topic of conversation. The pastry was delicious. The fruit was the perfect balance of sweet and tart, and the pastry was perfectly cooked, crunchy and golden. "Oh my God. These are incredible. What are they?"

  "Mary's secret recipe," Brendan said, chuckling as he took a bite out of his pastry as well. "She's a genius and no mistake."

  "Seriously. No wonder there's so many rumors of witchcraft in the castle," Helena chuckled… but she could sense she'd said something wrong. Brendan's face was stricken, and she sighed, taking a deep breath before she spoke. "Sorry."

  "It's fine," he said shortly, his face shadowed. "You didn't know."

  "I did. I talked to Mary and Audrina and Cora today, about… about Brigid. About everything that happened. I'm so sorry," she said softly, feeling a little useless about how powerless those words felt. "What a terrible thing."

  "It was," he said softly. "No justice in it. I've spent a lot of time angry… angry with the curse, with what it took from me. Me and Anne both," he said sadly. "I suppose Mary told you about Anne, too?"

  "She did."

  "Mary and Anne were close. I know it hurt her deeply when Anne disappeared." He sighed heavily, his eyes distant… then, to Helena's surprise, he seemed to focus again, something like a smile crossing his handsome face as he looked at her. "I only wish she was still here now. To meet you."

  "Why?" Helena blinked at the thought of meeting her ancestor's mother.

  "To show her that her daughter returned to us after all," he said softly, an oddly touching smile on his face. "So she'd know that the witch hunters didn't win, in the end, for all the pain and suffering that they caused."

  She bit her lip, a little torn. She didn't want to take this away from Brendan… it was clear that her presence here had given him a great deal of comfort when it came to the death of his wife. But the fact remained that she wasn't Brigid. She didn't have any of her memories, didn't know the first thing about her… she was her own person, not his lost wife, despite their resemblance. But how could she say that to someone who was so clearly lost in grief? So instead, she just reached out to touch his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. It seemed to surprise him — there was a flash of something in his eyes, and for a moment her heart leapt into her throat, convinced for a heartbeat that he was going to …

  But he just smiled and got to his feet. "I'll leave you to get some rest," he said softly, that smile that made her heart flutter still dancing across his face. "And I'll leave you the rest of the pastries, too."

  "Thanks, Brendan," she said softly, still feeling a little strange about what he'd said about Brigid having returned to them, but not knowing what to say about it. "For cheering me up. I feel a lot better just — just to have talked about it."

  "Talking always helps," he said with a smile. "Much better than bottling it up inside. And any time you need someone to talk to, Helena, I'm more than willing to be that person. Just send for me, and I'll be here."

  And with that, he was gone, leaving her to reflect thoughtfully on what he'd said. She had to admit, his presence had been very comforting. Just having him there, listening to what she was saying, his low voice and that beautiful accent of his… it had made her feel less alone. But it was more than that. It was as though there was something to be here for… a reason to be in this bizarre place. What was that? Why did she feel such a strange pull toward him? Was it possible that this had something to do with her ancestor, with whatever fate or magic had brought her here? That made her feel strange. She didn't know the first thing about magic, or how it worked… she was having difficulties even believing it existed in the first place, let alone confronting the possibility of trying to figure out exactly how it worked. Was it possible that she had some kind of destiny that was entwined with Brendan's? Was that why she felt so comfortable in his presence, why even now she was looking forward to seeing him again?

  "Don't be stupid," she told herself, turning over in bed to reach the pastries. Th
ere were still four left — she was awfully glad Brendan had left them for her. Skipping dinner had left her hungry, and the pastries were hitting the spot perfectly. "You just have a crush on him, that's all." Could that really be it? She'd never felt like this about crushes before… they'd usually just been silly distractions, nothing more. There was something about the way she felt about Brendan that was different… he was magnetic, almost, drawing her toward him like the tide going out.

  But she couldn't entertain that kind of thinking, now could she? Even if she'd been in any kind of state to entertain the possibility of a relationship… she looked just like his dead wife. He'd made it pretty clear that he saw her as a copy of Brigid, as a kind of reincarnation of her… if he was attracted to her too, then it was his dead wife he was attracted to, not her. Not Helena. And she was smart enough to know that a relationship built on a lie like that wasn't going to last. No — she couldn't let herself fall for him, no matter what fate or destiny or magic might have to say about it. She had to focus on looking after herself, on figuring out a way of having a life here. At least for now — until she could figure out a way to get back home. There had to be a way back, right? She hadn't been able to bring herself to ask Audrina or Cora about it, but she was confident that there must be. If magic brought her here, then magic could take her home again. It was just a question of figuring out how to do it.

  Maybe it would help to meet all the other women. She'd been thinking rather negatively about the lunch that Audrina and Cora had organized for the next day, but now she found herself looking forward to it. The other women would have insight, surely. Maybe they'd know how to get back to the future. Or at the very least, they'd be able to help her feel better about being here. Show her how to fit in a little better, help her figure out what kind of life she could build here.

  And maybe she could ask them a little more about Brendan. It couldn't hurt, could it? And it wouldn't hurt to spend a little more time around him either… maybe not for romantic purposes, of course, what with all the complications, but they could at least be friends. After all, he had a close link to the woman who'd brought her here — who better to help her figure out how to use the magic of the curse to get back home? And if it meant spending a lot of time looking at his handsome face, well… she supposed she could deal with that, too.

  Helena smiled to herself, finishing off the pastries as the evening wore on. Once they were finished, she brushed the pastry crumbs from the bed and settled in to sleep, feeling a lot better than she had just a few short hours ago. She had a plan now — or at least the beginnings of one.

  In the morning, she'd start figuring out how to get home.

  Chapter 8

  She slept late, surprising herself. It felt she'd done nothing but sleep since she got here, and yet still her body seemed desperate for more and more sleep. Was it a crazy kind of cosmic jetlag, she wondered? Traveling across the world on an airplane was hard enough… she wondered what the impact of traveling across not only the world, but time itself, could be. She decided not to beat herself up too much for oversleeping. After all, she had no idea what kind of impact the journey had had on her poor body.

  It did mean she'd missed breakfast, though. She dressed slowly, not sure of what the time was — by the placement of the sun in the sky she figured it was getting toward midday. Lunch time, then. She was going to meet all the other women who'd gotten lost in time, who'd ended up here because of the strange curse on the MacClarans. Interesting. Maybe they'd have some insight into what the hell she was doing here… into how she could maybe get back home… and maybe even into what she should do about her odd friendship with Brendan. Because as much as she enjoyed his company and wanted to see more of him, she couldn't shake the feeling that it was a bad idea, especially with how he felt about his wife…

  She headed for the dining hall around midday, but she was surprised to find Marianne at her elbow, gently guiding her away. Helena tilted her head, a little confused.

  "We thought it might be nice to eat somewhere a little quieter for today," Marianne said meaningfully. "Somewhere we can talk freely about everything without worrying too much about being overheard. The people of the castle are good people, generally, but you can never be too careful when it comes to rumors of witchcraft getting around…"

  "Sure," Helena said blankly, following Marianne down an unfamiliar passageway. "Where are we going?"

  "We thought the library. Someone mentioned that you liked reading… figured we'd kill two birds with one stone, show you where it is and introduce you to everyone too. It's not really a library," Marianne explained as they walked. "Just a room full of books, really. Nobody shushing you or anything and borrowing them works on the honor system."

  "Sounds great," Helena said, grateful to hear there was somewhere she could go aside from her room that sounded like a nice place to spend time.

  Sure enough, it was a cozy room stacked to the ceiling with bookshelves loaded up with books. Marianne led her through the stacks to a big table in the middle of the rather large room — clearly designed for research, though at present it was stacked high with plates of sandwiches and surrounded by more than half a dozen women, all of whom turned curious eyes to Helena as Marianne guided her through. There was Audrina and Cora at the head of the table — but Helena didn't recognize any of the others, all of whom seemed a little younger than Audrina, Cora and Marianne. A small woman with mouse-brown hair and a quiet demeanour was sitting beside a redheaded woman with a thick pair of glasses perched on her nose. At the other side of the table, two women with a noticeable family resemblance — the same jet black hair and fine features, though one had blue eyes and one had brown.

  "Hi," she said faintly, giving the table a wave. "I'm Helena Crane."

  "I'll do introductions," Marianne said brightly. "You've met Audrina and Cora already, of course. That's Karin and Fiona on that side, Fiona's the redhead — and Delilah and Bethany, the Cortland sisters."

  "There are so many of you," Helena said, blinking in surprise. "You all — we all —"

  "Are from the future, yep," Fiona cut in brightly, her eyes dancing. "How are you setting in, babe?"

  "Not great," she said, shrugging a little sheepishly. "Last night was hard."

  "It takes a lot of getting used to," Karin said softly. "We've all been there."

  "This is completely insane, right?" she said, moving to take a seat at the table and smiling a little as her comment won a laugh. "Like — you all just woke up here? In medieval Scotland?"

  "That's about the size of it, yep," Delilah said, grinning. "I mean, Bethany came chasing me, but —"

  "I didn't come to medieval goddamn Scotland on purpose," Bethany objected, raising an eyebrow. "I heard you'd gone missing on one of your expeditions and I came to save you. Then — bang. Time travel. I still hardly believe it some days," the woman said with a shrug. "But here we are, still. No matter how many times I pinch myself, I still wake up here." She smiled a little. "And I'm glad of it, too. Wouldn't want to wake up in the future again without Graham."

  "You're all married, right?" Now she was here, her curiosity was wide awake and roaring in her chest. She wanted to know everything she could about these strange women and what had happened to them — and she was especially interested in their husbands. "To MacClaran men?"

  "I think so," Karin said thoughtfully, scanning the room. "Yes. All of us."

  "It's part of the curse," Delilah explained. "Well, it's actually part of the reversal of the curse. Have Audrina and Cora explained it?"

  "I think so. The men of the family were cursed so that any woman they fell in love with would die tragically — with the addition that they'd get kind of… replaced, later. That's us. We're the replacements."

  "Something like that," Delilah said drily. "I mean, it was a little more complicated than that, but…"

  "Delilah's ancestor Morag was the witch that placed the curse," Marianne explained brightly.

  Helena stared at
Delilah, a little taken aback. "I can see why you wanted to talk about all this in private," she said faintly, imagining what the locals would make of that kind of information in an age where witch hunters were as common as bad weather. "So do you… do you share her memories, or something?"

  "Not really," Delilah said. "I mean, I think she shared a few things with me through dreams and such. We all have that in common."

  "Yes," Karin said softly. "I dreamed in great detail of my ancestor's death, I'm afraid. Childbirth," she added sadly. "It needn't have happened. A senseless death."

  "Won't happen on my watch," Cora said firmly. "But yes — I've got a few of Bellina's memories, too. Also from dreams. It's not like we're them, exactly. We're our own people. But we share… a few qualities, I suppose."

  "You all look just like your ancestors?" Helena wanted to know. "Brendan told me I looked just like his wife… Brigid, her name was."

  "Yes, that's a commonality, too," Audrina said softly. "There are members of the Clan who still call me Maeve sometimes."

  "And you all — married the men who originally thought you were their lost women." She hesitated. "How… how'd you make that work? Wasn't it… a problem, that they…"

  "They got it straight eventually," Bethany said with a grin. "My Graham was convinced I was his lost love and that I'd lost my memory somehow, but I soon convinced him otherwise." She tilted her head, a thoughtful look on her face. "Why do you ask?"

  "Yeah, tell us about Brendan," Delilah chimed in with a bright expression on her face. "I don't know him very well. Keeps to himself down there in the village, mostly."