Lost in the Highlands, Volume Two

by Lorraine Beaumont

  “Thirteen ye say?” Her wrinkled brow lifted.

  “Aye. Thirteen,” he repeated.

  The crone gave him an assessing look and then with her cane gripped firmly in her gnarled hand, she hobbled across the wooden planks to the powdered wig Magistrate. Leaning in close, she whispered something in his ear.

  In turn, the Magistrate looked at Gavin, his ruddy face twitching strangely, as he lifted his stubby finger to count off the men in line awaiting their execution. Once he finished, he dropped his hand back to the table and turned his head towards the witch. He shook his head back and forth.

  The crone/witch pressed the palms of her gnarled hands on the table, leaning forward until her face was level with the Magistrates.

  Reflexively, the Magistrate leaned back, his face showing his revulsion.

  More heated words were exchanged between the two, while the men shifted uneasily in their places as the Headsman sharpened his blade.

  Gavin hoped he didn’t make a mistake. He knew he should have only requested his men for the task and not the rest, but he didn’t have the stomach not ta at least try ta gain their freedom as well.

  The Headsman lowered the sharpening stone to his blade again, making Gavin and the rest of the men flinch from the awful sound.

  The sun disappeared under a black cloud, alleviating the blistering heat while casting each of the men, as well as Gavin, in an unnatural crimson shade.

  Gavin’s weak body tensed. There was a strange reddish haze surrounding the area. Under different circumstances, Gavin may have wondered why a witch who was pretending to be an old beggared crone was having a heated discussion about the fate of his person and his men with one of King James’ Magistrates.

  But there were many such oddities to compare at the moment and their survival took precedence. There was, however, no doubt in his mind about one thing—something unnatural was afoot. He lifted his face to the sky. Gray fat bellied clouds roiled above, growing in size with each passing minute. He said a silent prayer for the men and himself. He wasn’t normally a religious man, but he had little else ta lose at the moment. And deep down, he knew he would need nothing short of a miracle ta escape whatever fate the capricious witch and the bloodthirsty Magistrate had in mind.

  The arguing grew louder and Gavin could hear what they were saying now. He brought his gaze over to the dais, listening intently.

  “I will not spare them all,” the Magistrate argued.

  “Ye better or ye will have ta explain ta the King why his treasure can no be retrieved.”

  A roll of thunder broke loose, shaking the mud laden Earth beneath the scaffolding and dais.

  The Magistrate jumped up. “What kind of witchery is this?” he yelled above the din.

  “I told ye there would be hell ta pay if ye said nay.” As soon as that warning crossed the witches’ lips, a fork of lightning pierced the ground in front of the dais.

  The Magistrate lifted his swollen belly in his hands and ran towards the stairs.

  Gavin didn’t move and neither did any of the men.

  “What of the men?” A soldier asked, blocking the Magistrates retreat.

  The Magistrate looked warily over his shoulder back to the witch as another roll of thunder shook the Earth. “Let them go,” he yelled out. Pushing past the soldier, he stumbled awkwardly down the steps.

  The witch picked back up her cane. In disjointed intervals, she hobbled forward, leg-dragging, cane thumping. She tossed a coin to the Headsman. “Go,” she ordered.

  The Headsman pocketed the coin, grabbed up his ax from the block, and followed the same path as the Magistrate down the stairs to the ground below.

  CHAPTER SIX

  BLOWING ROCK, NORTH CAROLINA

  The Cottage Property- Present Day

  After Gavin left, Paige couldn’t fall back asleep. There were too many things bumping around in her mind. Giving up on sleep, she climbed from the bed and took a quick shower.

  After her body was reddened and pruned, she got dressed in a simple pair of cut off jean shorts and a gauzy eyelet tank top. Grabbing a clip off her dresser, she threw her wet hair up into a messy bun and headed downstairs to make some coffee.

  While the coffee brewed, she grabbed a breakfast bar out of the jar on the counter and nibbled on it while she went out onto the screened porch attached to the back of her cottage to check on the clay pieces she was drying. Although there are several different variations of clay, Porcelain, Earthenware, and Stoneware, the three main ones —Paige preferred using Porcelain for her pieces.

  Lifting up the plastic, she checked one of the fairies she made. Depending on what kind of clay she used it could take up to three days or more to dry completely. If it was humid or wet it would take even longer to dry. Living in the mountains, it was rarely humid and when it rained it usually came and went within a few hours so she normally didn’t have to wait more than three days to fire the pieces she made. She kept most of her pieces covered with plastic to prevent them from drying too fast. Sometimes she even used newspaper and then plastic, so if there was condensation it would collect on the outside of the plastic. If she didn’t take these precautions then she would have to worry about the pieces cracking or exploding when she put them into the kiln—a glorified oven with high temperatures used for cooking clay. Once the pieces were finished firing, the clay became a hardened porous bisque, ready for glazing. The glazing process she used was to not only decorate the clay pieces but also seal the pieces.

  After she moved some tiles she made over to a wire rack to dry (so the air could circulate on all sides of each piece), she decided to take a walk and pick some flowers to replace the old ones in her house. She also wanted to head down to the stream to see what Gavin was up to since she had some time to kill—the clay she mixed the day before needed to age—(aging increased the plasticity of the clay), making it easier to work with.

  Sometimes, she found it hard to believe that she had even been in the past at all.

  The only definitive part of her otherworldly experience was the very real reminder she had living with her now, Gavin, her highlander.

  It was a bit surreal, their situation, and she couldn’t help worrying from time to time if one day she would wake to find him gone. But she usually squashed down her trepidation by busying herself with inane tasks until they were once again, together, lying in each other’s arms in bed.

  The coffee maker spurted out the last of the dark brew down into the pot bringing her back from her thoughts. Pushing off the counter, she reached up and grabbed down her favorite cup from the open shelf. Big surprise, it had a bear on it and Grandfather Mountain, scrawled underneath. She bought it the day they came back to the present together, a reminder of sorts of where she had been. Adding Sugar in the Raw and some half-and-half from the fridge, she used the spoon on the counter and stirred it until the top was nice and frothy.

  Setting the spoon on the rest, she lifted the cup, took a sip, and walked over to the back door to slide on a pair of flip-flops.

  On the way out, she grabbed a basket, and clippers. Shutting the door, she headed out to pick some flowers on her way to the stream. When her grandmother was alive, she planted several different types of flowers as well as herbs in the garden and along the cobbled footpath that led to the lower garden, which wasn’t really a garden at all, but rather, a strip of grassy land.

  Paige had a hard time keeping up with the yard work herself so she hired Mr. Tomkins, a nice retired man in his seventies, from town, to help with the maintenance. He cut the lawn and tended to the garden and flowers. He did an incredible job and usually he came and went without her even seeing him. As she walked down the steps, she noticed a bucket filled with vegetables and herbs.

  “That’s strange,” she said, wondering why Mr. Tomkins didn’t put the vegetables inside of the screened in porch like he always did. She shrugged. “Oh well, maybe he forgot.”

  As she walked down the cobbled footpath, sipping her coffee, she
inhaled the sweet smell of freshly cut grass. Stopping every so often, she clipped the stem of a flower and then put the bloom in her basket. Later, when she got back to the cottage, she would remove all the old flowers from the vases and make new arrangements for the coming week. Nothing smelled better than fresh cut flowers, well, besides coffee. She loved the smell of freshly brewed coffee.

  By the time she made her way down to the stream, she was sweating even though she wasn’t wearing much clothing. As quietly as she could, she set down her basket of flowers and mug on one of the large boulders. There was a small copse of trees ahead, and on the other side was the stream. Thinking to sneak up on Gavin, get a little spying in, like she used to do when he trained in the past with his men—she tiptoed through the tress as silently as possible.

  A gentle breeze shook the leaves above, covering the sound of her footsteps. Using a large tree as a shield, she leaned around and looked in the lower garden.

  He wasn’t training. He wasn’t even in the lower garden. He was floating on the water, and even though his body was submerged, she could tell he wasn’t wearing any clothes. As usual, when she saw him in any state of undress, her heart started pounding faster and tingly warmth spread through her from the sight.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  BLOWING ROCK, NORTH CAROLINA

  The Cottage Property- Present Day

  Living in the Highlands had taught Gavin a thing or two about sneaking up on someone. Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on how one looked at it, the same did not hold true for his lass. She made more noise than Callum and Muir trying the like while they were well into their cups and that was saying something.

  “Lass, what are ye about?” Water lapped against his waist as he stood up. Pushing his long hair back from his face with one hand, he twisted the length until all the water released from the silky tendrils.

  “Huh?” She pulled her eyes away from his glistening naked body and lifted them to his face.

  The corners of his lips lifted. “Lass,” he repeated. “What are ye about?”

  “Oh, right,” she said finally, coming back to her senses. “How did you know I was here?” Kicking off her flip-flops, she sat down and slid her feet into the water.

  “The better question to ask yerself is how I could not know ye were here. Ye make enough noise ta wake the dead.”

  “I wasn’t trying to be loud.” She kicked water in his direction.

  “I know.” He waded closer, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “Did ye come to join me for a swim?”

  “No.” She wasn’t going to tell him truth, that was for sure—that she wanted to spy on him. “I was just picking some flowers and decided to come and um….” she searched her mind for something else to say, “coming to see what you were up to,” she added lamely.

  “Hmm,” he mused.

  She could tell he didn’t really believe her but thankfully he didn’t call her out on her obvious lie.

  “The water is nice.” He stopped in front of her. “Are ye sure ye don’t want to take a little dip?”

  “Noo!” She tried to pull her feet back out of water, but she wasn’t fast enough.

  Gavin pulled her forward until her legs spread wide and her thighs were on either side of his hips. “Now,” he asked, his voice low, almost a whisper as he leaned forward, “do ye want ta tell me why ye were spying on me?”

  “I wasn’t spying,” she argued, even though the look on his face told her quite clearly that he knew she was full of it.

  He tightened his grip and pulled her a little closer.

  “Gavin…” She pressed her hands against his cool, wet, chest. “I’m not getting in the water.”

  “Who said anything about ye getting in the water?”

  Paige narrowed her eyes. “If that isn’t what you are intending, then why do you have hold of my legs?”

  “I was just trying ta be helpful.” His brow quirked up. “The embankment tis slippery and ye might accidentally fall in.”

  Paige shivered as his cold hands slid up her thighs. “What are you doing?”

  Gavin ignored her question. “Did I mention how beautiful ye look this morning.”

  “No. You …um…didn’t.” A flush of heat crested her cheeks.

  “Och…” He trailed a wet finger up her arm. “I seem to have been remiss in my duties, then, aye.”

  Paige shivered from the contact. “Um, yeah, I guess.”

  “Did ye sleep well?” He pushed her hair over her shoulder.

  “Yeah, uh…what are you doing?” Beads of water slid down between her breast.

  “I am helping ye cool down a bit.” His lips lifted into a lazy grin.

  Cool down?

  Was he nuts?

  She was burning up and she could barely catch a breath. He was so damn hot. And he is mine, she thought, or she did until that damn stupid voice of hers cut in adding its two cents, ruining it with, “for now.”

  “Ye, like this?” He slid his fingers under the eyelet lace of her top.

  What was there not to like? “Yes.”

  “I see that ye do.” He pulled her closer so she was flush against his erection.

  “Gavin…” Paige could tell by the look on his face what he was about. “We can’t do this…here.”

  He leaned back to look at her face, his brows creasing. “Why ever not?”

  “Someone might see us,” she whispered.

  “Lass,” he sighed. “There is no one about but the small animals and birds. I do no think they would mind terribly if we had a bit o’ sport with each other, aye?”

  She would have agreed but she had the strangest feeling they were being watched. Warily she looked over her shoulder, just in case, but she couldn’t see anyone. “Well…” She turned back around and his face was only inches away from hers.

  “Just a wee morning kiss.”

  “Just a kiss?” she asked.

  “Aye,” he said. “Just a wee one.”

  “Well, if you only want a kiss, I guess that is okay,” she agreed.

  Gavin leaned forward, pressed his lips against the bare flesh at the front of her neck, and then continued downward till his lips were resting on the swell of her breasts. Using his teeth, he untied the ribbon in the front holding the eyelet lace together.

  “Gavin…” She squirmed away from him. “I thought you said you only wanted a kiss?”

  “Aye,” he agreed. “I am getting ta that.”

  Well hell. Paige didn’t realize he was going to do that. Gasping, she reflexively tightened her legs around his waist.

  “That’s more like it…” Gavin dipped his head down and put his mouth right on her breast.

  All her protests and inhibitions flew right out the window as his hot breath blew onto her hardened nipple through the lacy material of her bra. “Gavin,” she half cried/moaned, arching back. The feel of the cold water combined with his hot breath sent shivers racing against her skin.

  Within seconds he had her tank top over her head and her bra off and in just a few more seconds, he had her completely naked.

  Paige looked down. His erection was jutted upward between her thighs.

  “Do ye still want me ta stop?” he asked gruffly.

  Paige shook her head no, and tightened her hold.

  A knowing smile lifted the corners of his lips. “I thought ye would come ta yer senses.” Gavin lowered his lips to hers at the same time he thrust deeply inside her body.

  Paige gasped and clenched at the same time.

  Gavin grunted in satisfaction. “Are ye all right?”

  “Yes.” She nodded. Hell, she was better than all right—she was on fire.

  Gavin lost himself in the moment, his breath coming hot and fast now as the horrible memories churning deep inside abated with each mind numbing thrust. Tightening his hold, he jerked her legs higher for better penetration and buried himself even deeper.

  “Oh God, Gavin, yes!” She raked her nails across his flesh, making him flinch as he continued h
is relentless assault.

  Again, and again, he filled her completely. She held on, kissing and sucking, ravaging his neck with her teeth, then soothing the reddened skin with her tongue. There was no reprieve from her animalistic response to Gavin. When she was with him, she had no control over her body. She attacked him like a starving animal deprived of food and water for far too long.

  Gavin was no stranger to this kind of mating. The animalistic part of him took over and he met her attack with his own. His mouth captured hers, silencing her cries of ecstasy as he pumped harder, faster; pushing them both to the release they both were fighting for.

  Too soon, Paige cried as her mind-numbing orgasm shook her to her core.

  Jerkily thrusting forward one last time, Gavin let out a hiss of pleasure as his seed jetted deep within her.

  ♦

  Sun dappled down through the trees, flickering each time the heavy limbs creaked, shifting in the wind. The sound brought Paige back to her senses as well as the cool air drifting over her naked body. Sitting up, she pushed her hair away from her face and was surprised to find they were both on solid ground, on top of his plaid. She didn’t remember how they got on top of it but she was glad because it gave her bare bottom some defense against the prickly pine needles underneath.

  Trying to stay quiet so as not to wake Gavin, she grabbed her clothes off the embankment and pulled them back on as quickly as she could.

  A frog ribbited and a crunch of a leaf made her jump. She turned around.

  For a split second, she could swear someone was standing in the copse of trees looking at them both, but as her eyes slowly focused, she realized it was only a tree.

  Gavin rolled onto his side.

  Paige reached over and gently moved a piece of his hair away from his face. He looked so peaceful while he slept. His long lashes cast shadows across his cheekbones, and his full lips, slightly parted—looked so damn sexy. She had all she could do not to lean forward and kiss him again.