by Darci Balogh
"Oh, he's running around with his new best friend," Bridget said with more than just a little attitude. She waved her hand around in the air like she was swatting a fly. "They're probably hunting boars or shopping for kilts or something."
In fact, Thomas and Michael were drinking Scotch in the blue parlor. The women stumbled upon them while looking for a quiet place to relax together before dinner.
"Hello Ladies," Thomas lifted his tumbler in a toast to them as he unsteadily got to his feet. Apparently they had been drinking Scotch in the blue parlor for a while.
While the others teased Thomas about being drunk, Tawnyetta gathered up enough nerve to look at Michael. He was glowering at her from a chair in the corner that was very near the statue of Artemis. She remembered the first time she had been in this room and their roles had been reversed. She had been giving him a dirty look that time.
"...Gavina told me all about the love of my life, too," Bridget was filling drunk Thomas in on the details of their afternoon. From what Tawnyetta could tell he was drifting between not comprehending and being annoyed at her chatter.
"Would any of you bonnie lasses like a drink?" Michael's deep Scottish brogue came out of the corner.
The sound of his voice caught her by surprise. Her reaction, actually, is what surprised her the most. She was catapulted back to the bothy this morning and their singularly amazing kiss. The warmth of his hands on her cheek, the heat of his lips on hers, the soft tickle of his breath on her neck. Had all of that only happened this morning? It seemed like a lifetime ago.
"Why, thank you," Bridget said. Dissatisfied with Thomas' responses she turned away from him and zeroed in on Michael. "I would love a drink."
As quickly as the thrill of this morning had come upon Tawnyetta, the heartache of how they'd ended everything returned. The amazing kiss they'd shared was not to be repeated. Any spark of romance they had shared was doomed and that knowledge filled her with grief.
She accepted the first drink Thomas brought to her and slammed it down. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand she asked for a second, then a third, but the strong liquor did little to squelch her pain.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Tawnyetta awoke on her last full day in the Scottish Highlands with a splitting headache. She just wanted to stay in bed in the dark with the curtains drawn and nurse her hangover. Her head hurt. Her stomach roiled. Her spirit was tangled in the sour, damp sheets she had twisted around herself during a night of fitful, drunken sleep.
Tawnyetta squinted at the light peeking around the edges of the heavy draperies and glowered. She dared the sun to shine so brightly over her misery.
As she lay prone on the bed wishing she could magically transport to her own snug house in Colorado and forgo all of the pain and misery this day was bound to bring her, she had a moment of insanity. Thoughts of the greasy sausages that were present at every castle breakfast popped into her aching brain. Maybe, just maybe, they would help.
Bridget, Angie, Luna and Sofia were no better off than Tawnyetta at the breakfast table. They all poured black, black coffee into their mugs and avoided the eggs at the buffet like they were toxic waste. Though they were in bad shape, Thomas was even worse as he stumbled around the table letting out small groans and squinting in agony just to see in the daylight. Michael hadn't even shown his face yet. That's probably for the best, Tawnyetta thought to herself as she sat down at the long table with a plate holding four sausage links and a piece of buttered toast.
Recollections of the night before swam through her groggy brain. How the party in the blue parlor had progressed. How she'd become more and more morose. How Bridget had grown louder and more animated through the evening. How Thomas had been beside himself with the drunken 'I love you's' he was famous for saying. And Michael. Michael, who remained smoldering hot and unbelievably sexy even when he was drunk, hovered around the edges of their group–grim, glowering, and deliberately difficult. That's how she remembered it anyway.
There had definitely been moments between them that were too physical considering where they'd left everything in the bothy. Like when she had swayed a little standing up and leaned into the closest sturdy object, which turned out to be Michael, gripping his iron bicep for support. Or when he had stood just close enough behind her that she could feel the warmth of his body without even having to look. As the evening had gone on and she had gotten more and more tipsy, she honestly didn't know how she had kept her hands off of him.
Unbelievable self-control. Self-preservation. Pride. That's how.
The Prescotts, thankfully, had left on a day trip early in the morning. So the Americans were saved any awkward explanations about their disheveled appearances to the utterly upright and well behaved British family. Upon seeing the six of them stumbling around the breakfast buffet, Stewart very kindly instructed the staff to bring up extra greasy bacon and fried potatoes as well as a silver bucket full of cans of the orange soda drink, Irn Bru, on ice.
"This will set you straight for certain," Anne insisted as she handed each one of them a freezing cold can of the fizzy orange stuff.
Bridget covered her face with her hands at the sight of the food in front of her. "I don't know if I should eat anything."
Thomas moaned, then pushed Bridget's plate closer to her. "Eat. You'll feel better."
"Please," Sofia held her palm up to Thomas. "No shouting."
Angie had her eyes closed and was doing breathing exercises. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Luna watched her with blood shot eyes, unable to stop observing others even when suffering the effects of too much drink.
Thomas moaned again, this time with some measure of relief. He had pressed the ice cold can of Irn Bru to his forehead. "That does the trick," he said.
Tawnyetta took up her own can, placing it gingerly against her temple, and immediately wished she had a dozen of the aluminum cans strapped around her head. The smooth cold of its surface was at once shocking and soothing. She sighed with relief.
Luna looked back and forth between Tawnyetta and Thomas blissfully holding their drinks against their foreheads. She scooped up hers and copied them. The others followed suit until all five women and Thomas were slumped back in their fine hand carved wooden chairs holding iced Irn Bru cans to their foreheads.
Angie looked around at all of them and in her recently perfected Scottish accent said, "Well, isn't this a fine kettle of fish."
Thomas cracked up first. Then the rest of them. Laughing made their heads hurt, which made them laugh harder. None of them removed their can from their head because it felt so good, which was the funniest part.
"Is that even a Scottish saying?" Sofia asked, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes.
Angie shrugged, "I don't know. It just popped into my head."
"It certainly has been a crazy few weeks, hasn't it?" Bridget said. "Starting with the mammoth disaster of my wedding!" She lifted her Irn Bru into the air as if toasting. They all returned the gesture before placing them back against their heads.
"Then we came here on the Not a Honeymoon," Tawnyetta added. Again the mock toast and return.
"Then we surprised you!" Luna said. She raised her can again and everyone returned the favor.
"And then Tawny got lost during the flash flood and Laird MacBrody found her," Angie reminded them. They all toasted Tawnyetta then returned the cans to their foreheads.
"What about when Angie almost drowned and Tawny jumped in after her," Sofia lifted her can.
"And Laird MacBrody saved her," Sofia, Luna, and Angie all said at the same time. Tawnyetta had to laugh at the drama of it all.
"Here, here!" Bridget said as they all lifted their cans high in the air again.
"Here, here!" They responded.
"And then Laird MacBrody fell in love with Tawny!" Thomas called out, caught up in the moment.
The room fell silent.
All arms froze mid-air with the Irn Bru lifted toward the ceiling. All eyes t
urned to him.
His cheeks grew red and he gave a timid, "Here, here."
"What?" Bridget asked in surprise.
Sofia looked at Luna and said, "You were right."
Angie's face filled with joy and she looked at Tawnyetta. "How wonderful!"
All eyes turned to Tawnyetta and she felt color rising in her cheeks. She fumbled for something to say, but nothing intelligible came out. Her stomach felt sick. Churning from her hangover and a heavy dose of embarrassment and guilt, and something even more sickening, a quavering sensation of hope.
"What is he talking about?" Bridget asked.
"Laird MacBrody has a thing for Tawnyetta," Sofia explained. Luna nodded in agreement.
Bridget kept her gaze on Tawnyetta, trying to understand.
All of them had lowered their Irn Bru's, except Thomas. "More than just a thing," he interjected, closing his eyes once more against the conversation and the too bright morning.
Tawnyetta wished he would just shut up. "It's nothing," she insisted. "Nothing is happening between us." Everybody still watched her, less than convinced. "Okay, well, maybe there was some attraction and...I mean, we were trapped in the bothy for a long time...but I let him know yesterday in no uncertain terms that we were not an item."
Bridget's eyebrows crinkled in confusion. "When yesterday?"
Tawnyetta looked into her big blue eyes. She didn't want to lie. She didn't want to hurt her feelings. But this was Bridget, one of her forever friends. They were all her forever friends. She had to tell the truth.
Tawnyetta drug her gaze away from Bridget and glanced at all of them quickly before looking down at the can of orange soda in her hands. She sighed, then said, "When I went back to the bothy to get my sweater...after the picnic...and he kissed me."
There was a weighted pause as what she said sank in. Her friends stared at her in stunned silence. As surprise slowly registered in their expressions, Tawnyetta sat twisting in discomfort. She couldn't believe she had told them. What did they think? What did she think, really? She didn't know what to think or feel anymore.
When it seemed like she couldn't stand their silence for one more moment and she thought she was going to have to tell them to just say something already, the feeling of uncertainty in the air shifted. In one unified moment the whole room erupted into astonished delight.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
"Oh my God!" Sofia exclaimed.
"Tawnyetta, that's so romantic," Angie said, beaming at her from across the table.
"You called it," Sofia said to Luna again. Luna just smiled and nodded as she watched Tawnyetta react to their overwhelming positivity.
"Tawny..." Bridget searched for the words, then raised her Irn Bru once again in the air to toast her friend for real. "He's totally hot!"
They all laughed, Tawnyetta included. Relief at Bridget's reaction made her a bit giddy.
Bridget turned her attention to Thomas who was the only one of all of them still slumping in his chair. Obviously his hangover had more of a hold on him as he still held his Irn Bru to his forehead. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "How did you know?" Thomas squinted at her, looking a little sheepish. He lifted one shoulder and let it drop in an uninspired half-shrug. He opened his mouth to answer when a new thought struck Bridget and she flipped her attention back to Tawnyetta. "More importantly, why didn't I know?" She looked pained. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Tawnyetta didn't know what to say. Sometimes it was difficult to think when hit with the Bridget spotlight. Especially now. Especially with her body surging with the thrill of admitting her and Michael's secret romantic encounter. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again.
"I think she was worried about you," Luna said softly.
Bridget looked bewildered. "Me?"
Tawnyetta nodded, thankful for Luna's words hitting the nail on the head. When she started talking, the whole story spilled out. "I wanted to be there for you, after Christopher and the whole wedding thing." She waved her hand around as if shooing away a pesky fly. "You were all excited about finding the Laird of the Castle and I just...I just..." Tawnyetta couldn't find the right way to say it.
"You were protecting her," Angie spoke up.
Tawnyetta nodded emphatically and pointed at Angie. "Yes, what she said."
Bridget struggled to understand.
"She thought you needed a distraction," Sofia explained further.
Tawnyetta nodded again. "I didn't want to go after the guy you were interested in, especially after what happened with Christopher."
Bridget tilted her head sideways and stuck out her bottom lip, looking at Tawnyetta as if she were a really cute puppy. "Aww, Tawny, that's so sweet." She shook her head and flashed a charming smile, "But I'm not really into him. Not really, really."
The weight of the world lifted from Tawnyetta's shoulders. "You're not?"
"I mean, he's absolutely gorgeous and manly, and that accent! Plus he has a castle and everything," her face softened and she reached out to touch Tawnyetta's hand. "But I'm not ready for a relationship right now, you know?" Tawnyetta nodded. "Besides, he's into you! He kissed you!" Bridget's eyes flew open as she sucked in her breath and fluttered her fingers on her chest. "Tawny!" Her voice was high pitched and excited. "You could be a princess!"
Tawnyetta laughed, reassured that her feelings for Michael weren't going to ruin her best friend's Not a Honeymoon, a glimmer of true hope lit like a tiny candle in the pit of her stomach. It was immediately squelched by the memory of what she'd said to him in the bothy. Her face fell.
"What's the matter?" Angie asked.
"Do you not return his feelings?" Sofia wondered.
Tawnyetta shook her head, denying that possibility. "It's not that."
"What is it, then?" Bridget asked.
"I told him I didn't want a relationship with him." Tawnyetta looked around at her concerned friends. All except Thomas, who had his eyes closed and head back, were listening intently. The tiny flame of hope puffed out completely as she confessed her mistake. "I was pretty mean about it, too. If there was the possibility of anything between us, I threw it all away."
"Nope," Thomas said, eyes still closed, head still back. All eyes, once again, turned to him.
"What do you mean 'nope'?" Bridget asked, annoyed at what she saw as his indifference to Tawnyetta's plight.
Thomas removed the can and opened one eye so he could squint at Tawnyetta like a pirate. "If you think telling him you're not interested has changed his mind, you're wrong."
"Did he tell you that?" Bridget demanded to know.
"He didn't have to tell me. I can see it on him." Thomas sat up straight and looked around the table at the five women in his life. He sighed as if he was saddened to have to convey some awful truth. "Besides, it's basic human nature. The thing you can't have is the thing you want the most."
They all considered this for a few moments in silence.
"Couldn't you just tell him you changed your mind?" Luna suggested.
Tawnyetta cringed. "I am probably the last person he wants to see right now. We're leaving tomorrow anyway," she said, defeated before she even tried.
"What's the problem? Airplanes stop flying after tomorrow?" Sofia arched her eyebrow at Tawnyetta.
"What's blocking you, Tawny?" Angie asked.
Tawnyetta felt shaky. Like if she tried to stand up she might stumble. "I don't know."
They all waited, watching her, wondering what was wrong and how they could help. Tears pressed at the back of Tawnyetta's eyes. She loved all them so much. They were the best friends anyone could ever have. But there was something deeply sad inside of her, a void, a knowledge that what she wanted could never be.
"What is it?" Luna asked again softly.
A fat tear drop rolled down Tawnyetta's cheek. She wiped it defiantly away. Her bottom lip trembled and she trained her eyes out the nearest window so she wouldn't have to look at them when she spoke.
"I'm afraid," s
he admitted, her voice quavering just a little. She looked back at them to explain, "I'm afraid it won't work. I'm afraid to be hurt. I'm afraid it's too fast and I'll regret it." Another tear escaped. "I'm afraid I'm giving up my dream of adventure for a relationship."
Bridget looked deep into her eyes. "We're talking about a Scottish Highlander with a castle, Tawny. You're hardly settling for boring suburbia." Tawnyetta laughed at this. "The only thing that would actually missing from your adventure would be dragons! And they're not even real!" Bridget declared.
"Allegedly," Angie corrected her. That made everyone laugh. Still holding all of their attention, Angie leaned forward and focused her mystical dark brown eyes on Tawnyetta. "And, really Tawnyetta, couldn't love be the greatest adventure of all?"
The first place Tawnyetta looked for Michael was in the garden. Her heart sang with the encouragement of her friends. Adding in Thomas' unalterable opinion that she hadn't completely ruined her chances with Michael after all, Tawnyetta practically walked on air as she searched for him. Through the rose garden, into the overgrown Secret Garden, and even through the woodlands right next to the castle, she looked, but to no avail. The only people she ran into were Dougie and the real Shaun who were working on the troublesome fountain in the formal garden.
A chilly mist had moved in and she clutched the front of her sweater close to her body to fend it off. When she returned from the woodlands frustrated at not finding Michael anywhere, she asked Dougie if he knew where he was.
"Could be the Master is in his chambers," Dougie guessed. He said something else, but Tawnyetta didn't hear it because she had already said thank you and was hurrying back to the castle.
As she walked she thought about what she was going to say to him. She hadn't really worked that part through, just took off from breakfast to find him. All she wanted was to see him again, hear his voice, look into his deep blue eyes. Her body ached for his touch, to be close to him and feel his warm strength. Even as she tried to formulate the words she would use to convince him that she was sorry and had been wrong about everything, she couldn't do it. Her heart wouldn't let go of her mind long enough to be that logical.