Promised to the Highlander: A Scottish Time Travel Romance

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Promised to the Highlander: A Scottish Time Travel Romance Page 12

by Blanche Dabney


  “I am home,” she replied, her hands slipping into his as the dust began to slowly settle once more.

  He smiled, leaning down to kiss her. She closed her eyes. A moment later their lips touched and any doubts she had about making the right choice vanished, never to be thought about again.

  His arms slipped around her and their bodies pressed together, their embrace continuing. Kerry thought of nothing at all but the feel of him against her. They had come so far together. She had thought she’d lost him forever and the joy she felt at his kiss was nothing to the joy of knowing he had come back for her.

  “I love you,” he said, pulling back long enough to stroke her hair, drinking in her image.

  “I love you too,” she replied, pulling him back toward her. “Kiss me again.”

  He did, many times. It was much later that they began their journey south together. They would never see MacIntyre hall again.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Edward looked a mess. He hated the middle ages. He hated Scotland. It was nothing but mud and wind and rain and there was nothing to look at. All he could see were miserable mountains that contained no food, empty fields that contained no food and no shops.

  It had taken weeks to track down Kerry since she so stupidly fell into the river. He finally heard a rumor she was in an abbey and he got there in time to find out she’d left. Would the monks give him a meal and some clean clothes? Only if he joined them in a service. Like that was ever going to happen. Those god botherers weren’t going to hook him into their nonsense. They might believe in fairies in the sky but not him. He laughed at their suggested deal and headed back north to look for her, stealing food from anywhere he could manage to find it.

  The last two days he hadn’t eaten the thing. The last meal he’d had was a loaf of bread snatched out of the hand of a whining child in a village that was as muddy as he was. That meal had earned him a chase from a farmer with an ax and he’d barely gotten away.

  The chase was meant to happen though because running from that brought him toward Kerry. He found her not long after finally losing his pursuer.

  She was walking with the woman she’d pointed out at the old hall. Edward didn’t know what they were doing together. What he did know was if he followed them long enough he should be able to get hold of her again. Then it would be a simple matter of going back through the portal and getting clean, scrape away the filth of this disgusting place and get back to normal. He might even make her wash him, the first step to paying him back for everything she’d put him through.

  There would be a lot more pay back for all this, he thought as he tracked her and her companion. He was able to warm himself with thoughts of slapping her across the face, seeing the shocked look that always came when he taught her a lesson.

  She couldn’t be left alone, that much was obvious. Let go of her for one minute and she was off almost drowning. That wouldn’t happen again, not on his watch. He’d keep a much closer eye on her when they got back. She’d be lucky if he ever let her out of the house again.

  He followed the pair of them into a wood. The driving rain made it hard to keep track of where they were headed and by the time he was inside the treeline they’d vanished.

  He did his best to find them, searching the wood until dawn but he saw nothing but his own footsteps.

  He emerged the next morning with no idea where he was. He couldn’t even tell which way he was heading. He would have killed for a compass.

  Eventually he made it to the old hall. It seemed to have taken weeks but it was no more than a couple of days. There was no sign of her the entire journey but that didn’t matter.

  He had passed by some dumb farmer on an empty cart and found out from him where she was.

  When he described Kerry the farmer smiled a black toothed smile of recognition. “Rode south with Callum MacCleod not two days ago.”

  Edward kept the smile on his own face until he was far in front of the farmer. That was her game was it? Get back together with that highland imbecile? Was she as thick as him?

  Edward made his mind up as he walked. The plan was simple. Go back through the portal and get some nice modern weapon. The farmer had given him the idea. Get hold of a gun. Come back. Kill Callum. Take Kerry home with him where she belonged.

  It was a simple plan but there was one flaw to it. A flaw he only discovered when he reached the hall.

  Someone had knocked the doorway down. He tried piling the stones back up but when he walked through nothing happened. The magic, whatever it had been, was gone.

  He lost it. Something inside his mind snapped. He couldn’t get back to the future and it was all their fault.

  He headed south once more. Encrusted with filth he muttered to himself as he went. “Stuck here in the middle ages. No soap. No showers. No TV. No car. Freezing cold and filthy and it’s all their fault. No way back. They’re laughing at me right now. I bet they’re having great chucks about old Edward. Well, they won’t be laughing when I catch up with them. Let them laugh. See how that Scots prick laughs with a knife in his back. And her? She’ll get me clean and maybe I’ll run his stupid clan for a while, make her my wife. I might not be able to get back but I can make them pay for keeping me here. They’ll pay all right. They’ll both pay.”

  He continued ranting as he walked. Anyone who saw him gave him a wide berth. They recognized madness when they saw it.

  He kept walking, knowing he would get to MacCleod castle soon enough. And he did.

  When he saw it he knew at once he was there. He could feel the two of them in there. He could almost hear them pointing and laughing at him as he approached.

  If the guards had been paying attention he would never have made it inside. They were too busy with the wedding preparations to notice what he did.

  Edward watched them from behind a tree. He waited until a cart rolled past covered in rushes. With a single leap he buried himself inside the rushes, breathing in their warmth, feeling heat return to his limbs for the first time in days.

  He listened as they continued arguing with a man who wanted paying up front for his eggs. While the argument continued the cart was able to roll straight past and then he was in the courtyard.

  Sliding out from his hiding place he looked about him. He wouldn’t have long before someone noticed him. He needed to move fast. Where would they be?

  He went to the kitchen first. The cook noticed him and yelled at him to leave, chasing him out of the door. Hiding behind an archery target he watched the cook talking to one of the guards, no doubt looking for him. They wouldn’t find him until it was too late. He only needed a minute. It wouldn’t take long to do what he planned.

  “Get me stuck here in this hellhole,” he muttered as he emerged from behind the target and made his way over to the keep. They were bound to be in there.

  The place was busy which played in his favor. No one noticed as he looked in one room and then the next, all the time fingering the knife in his back pocket. Maybe he’d mark her with his initials. Let all these bumpkins know she belonged to him, not their idiotic laird.

  He found her in the tower. A memory came back to him as he climbed the spiral staircase. He’d been here before. Then he remembered. This was where she’d fallen out of the window and all his problems had begun. This was all her fault. He was cold, tired, and filthy and it was all because she wouldn’t listen to him, wouldn’t come home like she was supposed to, wouldn’t do as she was told.

  He pulled the knife out as he climbed. He could hear her humming to herself. She sounded happy. She wouldn’t be happy for long, not until she’d apologized for everything she’d put him through. He’d teach her a lesson and then he’d go find that Scotch prick and run him through for looking at his bird.

  He couldn’t wait to see the look on Callum’s face when he realized he’d been bettered by Edward.

  Later, he told himself. First, deal with her. He walked up the last few steps and pushed open the door, stepping int
o the tower room. “Here we are again,” he said, gratified to see her yelp with shock at his sudden appearance.

  “Edward?” she asked, squinting. “Is that you?”

  “Of course it’s me,” he snapped, wiping mud from his face before taking a slow step toward her. “Don’t you even recognize your own partner?”

  “You’re not my partner. We broke up.”

  She didn’t look scared of him. That was irritating. He held the knife out in from of him, waving it slowly from side to side. Still she didn’t look afraid. Why not? Was she too stupid to realize she was about to be taught a lesson she’d never forget?

  “You can’t marry Callum,” Edward said, stopping in the middle of the room. “You belong to me.”

  “No, I don’t,” she replied, her arms by her side. “Look at you, Edward. You’re a mess.”

  “I’m a mess because you went and threw yourself in a river and I had to go through hell tracking you down. Now, come and sit down. It’s time for your lesson.”

  “No, Edward. I’m done with you and your lessons. Now why don’t you just turn around and leave?”

  He barked out a laugh. “Leave? You want me to leave after everything I’ve done for you?”

  “What have you done for me? You’ve made me afraid to be myself but not anymore. You’ve broken my ribs. I nearly lost an eye because of you but you know what? I’m done with being scared of you. You want to come at me with that knife you go for it but you better make it good because you’re only getting one shot.”

  Edward roared with anger. “You will be scared of me!” He lunged forward, swiping the knife down through the air, aiming to cut her face just enough to see that fear in her eyes that he so loved to see.

  She still refused to look scared. He lost control, screaming and running at her as she darted backward. He lunged with the knife and as he did so he over reached, losing his balance and falling.

  He wasn’t worried. She would catch him. She wouldn’t dare let him hurt himself.

  She stepped to the side and he had time to see the sky outside the window before he fell through it, unable to stop himself in time.

  He turned over in the air, looking back up and seeing the tower above him as he fell. She didn’t even look out at him. He was furious. He would make her pay for this. He’d do more than just teach her a lesson. He would hurt her so much she-

  His body thumped into the ground, the knife falling from his hand and running down the side of the moat, sinking into the water.

  Hundreds of years later a metal detectorist would dig up the knife and get it dated. When he was told it was only ten years old he would throw it out. He had bet it was older from how corroded it was but he lost the bet. He had no idea a knife bought in 2008 had been in the moat for centuries.

  Edward didn’t know anything about what happened to his knife. He lay perfectly still not knowing anything at all.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Callum stood on the battlement overlooking the front gate of the castle. There was no one left outside. All the guests were already crammed into the great hall. He looked out at the countryside, every lump and bump of the landscape as familiar to him as his own hand.

  It felt strange to think that the next time he stood up there he would be a married man. He would be a husband. He would have a wife.

  He found himself thinking just how lucky he was. He had come back to MacCleod castle ready for a blazing row with his parents. He took Kerry with him into the great hall, finding his father on the dais dealing with petitioners and his mother reading by the fireside.

  It was a source of great pride to him that both his parents could read and that they had taught him the difficult skill while he was still a child. His mother looked up from her book, smiling when she saw him.

  “We were hoping you’d come back,” she said. “The abbot said you went north. I feared you went to pick a fight with the MacIntyres. Were you that desperate to get out of your wedding that you would get yourself killed in a pointless skirmish?”

  “I went to fetch someone.”

  “Hi,” Kerry said, waving next to him. “Nice to see you again.”

  “You’re back,” Alan shouted from the dais. “Get over here. I want a word with you.” He waved the petitioners away. “Everyone out but my son.”

  Kerry looked unsure but Callum slipped his hand into hers, bringing her forward with him. The room emptied as he stood before his father, ready for the yelling to begin. “I will not marry Nessa MacKay,” he said, bracing himself for the response.

  “Aye,” his father replied. “I know that.”

  “What?” Callum was thrown. “You are not angry with me?”

  “Why would I be angry with you?”

  “Because you’ve insisted on this wedding for weeks and told me if I didnae go through with it, I’d be banished.”

  “Aye well I didnae expect Nessa to run off in the night and marry her man before anyone could stop her, did I?”

  “She ran off?”

  “Said she’d be damned before she’d marry a MacCleod. So that’s that.”

  Callum turned and smiled at Kerry. “Which means there’s nothing to stop us marrying.”

  “Only one thing,” she replied.

  “What’s that?”

  “You haven’t asked me yet.”

  Callum leaned over the battlements, recalling how she looked in that moment, the sparkle in her eyes, the amused look, the way the light from the fire made her hair glow with life. She looked more beautiful than ever as he asked her the only question that mattered.

  “Will you marry me?”

  “Of course I will.”

  “That’s good news,” Alan said, slapping their hands together. “I would have hated to see all that food go to waste.”

  “Is the alliance threatened?” Callum asked.

  “Old man MacKay is so embarrassed by his daughter’s actions that he gladly signed a peace treaty just to sweep it all under the rug.”

  Gillian got up from her fireside chair and walked over, looking closely at Kerry. “You love him, don’t you?” she asked.

  “I do,” Kerry replied. “With all my heart.”

  “Then you have my blessing.”

  He smiled as he turned from the battlement and descended the stairs to the courtyard. He was lucky for many reasons. The bitter rivalry with the MacKays was at least temporarily abated. He had met a woman who’d traveled across centuries to be with him, a beautiful, a woman who was waiting for him in the chapel at that very moment.

  He was lucky that Edward hadn’t snatched her away from him. He was lucky that she was so fast on her feet that Edward had fallen out of the tower window when he had managed to sneak into the castle to attack her. He was lucky that she hadn’t returned to the future. He was lucky she had decided to stay.

  He smiled as he pushed open the doors of the chapel and walked inside. Abbot Fingal was standing by the altar. Beside him Kerry was standing in a stunningly beautiful tartan dress. The MacCleod colors suited her. Behind her stood his parents, both of them in their finest attire.

  The chapel was crammed with people. Everyone but the guards on duty had squeezed in. They all watched Callum as he walked in, moving aside to allow him to pass through the crowd.

  “Glad you decided to join us,” Alan whispered as Callum passed him. “It’s bloody freezing in here and your bride to be is turning into an icicle waiting for you.”

  “He’s on time,” Gillian hissed. “You kept me waiting for over an hour, remember.”

  Alan colored as Callum walked by to stand beside Kerry.

  The abbot smiled at them both, clearing his throat before beginning. “We are gathered here today in the sight of God and the MacCleod clan to witness the blessed union of two people dear in the hearts of many. Kerry, since your arrival I hear tell you have revolutionized the way meals are prepared in the castle kitchen.”

  “I only showed them how to prep a few things,” she replied.

&
nbsp; “It was a lot more than that,” someone shouted from the back. Callum turned to see one of the cooks step forward. “She’s taught me how to make scones, sponge cake, Norman toast, jam tarts. I never knew of such things until she came along. God bless that woman.”

  “If I might continue,” the abbot said. “Kerry, you have brought joy to many but you brought the most joy to Callum MacCleod, son of Alan and Gillian who both give their consent for this union today. Callum, you have protected the clan for years with your men.”

  “Aye,” said a chorus of gruff voices at the back of the chapel, one of them adding, “When he’s not off chasing women or drinking ale.”

  A ripple of laughter went around the chapel.

  The abbot ignored them. “If you two are to wed today know this. You become part of the highlands. You marry not just each other but also God and Scotland. If you agree to this, say aye.”

  “Aye,” they said in unison.

  “Callum, will you take this woman to be your wife, to protect and to worship, to take care of for the rest of your lives, to love and cherish until the day you die?”

  “I will.”

  “Kerry, will you take this highland fool for your husband, to protect and to worship, to take care of for the rest of your lives, to love and cherish until the day you die?”

  “I will.”

  “Do you have the rings that show all here present that you are true to your vows?”

  Alan and Gillian held out their hands, palms upward, two gold rings waiting to be taken.

  Callum took his first, sliding it onto Kerry’s finger, looking at her all the while.

  Kerry lifted hers from Gillian’s hand, looking at it in wonder and smiling as she placed it onto Callum’s finger.

  “You are now wed in the eyes of God and man and the highlands themselves,” the abbot said. “Go forth from this place as husband and wife and gather heather under the gate with my blessing.”

 

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