Helen rolled her eyes, sinking down into the comfort of the bed and trying to get control of her racing thoughts. Yes, he was handsome. Yes, he was kind and thoughtful and a good listener and everything she’d ever wanted in a man, on the rare occasion she’d let herself have those kinds of dreams… but he was a friend, no more. A friend she was keenly grateful for — a friend who’d saved her life — but just a friend.
And he wouldn’t be the first friend she’d nursed a secret crush on…
Chapter 9
By the next day, she felt more than well enough to get out of bed and try her legs. After so long in bed, it felt a little strange to be upright again, but it wasn’t long before she had her balance — and it felt incredibly good to be moving around under her own power again. She started with a few laps of her little room after breakfast — she’d woken bright and early to the sun through the little window at the other side of the room, and curiosity had bloomed in her chest about what might be visible through that window. So after Niall had taken her empty plates and bowls away, she rose carefully to her feet and padded over to the window to have a good look around.
Because she’d realized that she had no idea where she was. Scotland, sure — she’d taken that piece of information in, slowly — on the shores of a huge lake that she’d nearly drowned in (that particular detail was too troubling to be easily forgotten)… but she had no idea what kind of a building she was in. Was it a cottage by the Loch? Something about the stone walls and simple furnishings made her think of a monastery, but Niall was hardly a monk (or at least, she hoped he wasn’t.) The women she’d met had said something about a Keep … what was that, exactly? She moved over to the window, curiosity bubbling in her chest… and her eyes widened as she gazed out at the view before her.
The first thing she saw was the sunlight glinting from the water of the Loch… and the beauty of the sight before her took her breath away. The Loch extended in every direction for what seemed like an impossible stretch… beyond it, she could see rolling hills that climbed up into the sky, touched with a dull haze of purple that she realized with a shock must have been the famous purple heather Scotland was famous for. She’d heard it was beautiful, but in person, it was something else altogether. She leaned a little out of the window, eager to make out more details of the world she’d found herself in… there, dotted across the surface of the Loch, were dozens of little boats, all of them bobbing on the choppy surface. Most of them had little sails and were skimming with great agility back and forth, the wind clearly filling the sails and propelling them this way and that. Were they all fishermen? she wondered. Fish must be a staple meal here — she remembered it playing a significant role in most of the meals that Niall had brought her. And no wonder, with such an enormous Loch to fish from.
She leaned on the windowsill, fascinated by the view spread out before her. There was something so peaceful about watching the boats zipping this way and that or staying stationary as the fishermen worked to bring in their catch. If she was here for good, would she be able to work on a fishing boat? She’d have to find something to do with herself, wouldn’t she? They’d all been incredibly kind to her, but there was no way she could spend the rest of her life lying in bed and having meals brought to her. She’d go insane, for one thing. Recovering from a serious illness was irritating enough without the prospect of something else to fill her days once she was mended.
As she watched, something caught her eye — something she almost missed amongst all the hustle and bustle of the fishermen bringing in their catches. There — beyond the jetty she could see through the window, beyond the ships coming in with nets full of gleaming fish… there was what looked like a little raft, all by itself. There was nobody on it — if it hadn’t been for the way that it didn’t reflect the light the same way the water did, she wouldn’t have noticed it all, with no sail to catch her eye. What was it doing out there? It barely looked like a ship at all, just an odd little platform with what looked like a single oar sitting on its surface… and as she watched, she could tell that none of the fishermen were giving it a second glance.
A knock on the door pulled her from her reflections on the solitary raft. She turned, ready to see Niall’s smiling face — but instead, there were a couple of women in long dresses with what looked like rough cotton aprons over the top. Each was wearing a little bonnet that held her hair down, and each was looking at her with expressions of outright curiosity.
“Oh, hello,” she said, surprised. “Are you — friends of Niall’s?”
“Oh, she really is one of them,” the first woman said to the other, a chuckle in her voice that Helen couldn’t quite find rude. “Doesn’t recognize a servant when she sees one.”
“We work in the Keep,” the other woman said brightly. Helen realized her arms were full of fabric — the other woman was carrying a steaming bowl of hot water. “Maeve sent us with some things for a bath, and a change of clothes for you if you’re feeling up to leaving your room.”
“Is it true Niall saved you from drowning?” the first woman asked, her blue eyes wide. She was younger than the other one, and Helen hid a smile as the older servant elbowed the first one in the ribs.
“Don’t be nosy —”
“It’s okay.” Helen laughed. “Really. I don’t mind. Yes, he pulled me out of the Loch some time ago. I’ve been very sick, but Maggie gave me some medicine that healed me. Do you know her?”
The women exchanged knowing grins. “Oh, aye,” the older one chuckled, “just about everyone around here knows old Maggie. She’s a lifesaver and no mistake. She gave me an ointment for my aching joints — cleared up the pain just like magic.”
“It is magic,” the younger one said fiercely. “It’s true Fae magic, for sure. I’ve heard she can talk to the Monster!”
“The what?” Helen blinked.
“The Monster! Surely you’ve heard of the Loch Ness Monster?”
To her shock, she had. It had been one of the first associations she’d had with Scotland. But wasn’t it a myth? Hadn’t she read about some kind of test they’d done with sonar to see whether there truly was a dinosaur-type creature living in the depths of the Loch? Why were these women talking about the Monster as though it was a regular part of life here?
“Come now, we’d best leave Lady Helen to her bath,” the older servant said disapprovingly, clicking her tongue at the younger one.
The two of them turned back to Helen before they left, both sketching very charming little curtsies before they left the room — she did her best to imitate the curtsy, sending them both into suppressed giggling fits as they left. Well, she’d done her best, she thought with amusement, turning to the warm water they’d brought her for a bath. Was that how things were done here? She supposed running water would be a little too much to hope for, what with the medieval era… but the water was clean and warm, with cloths and soap provided, and she shrugged out of her clothes and set about giving herself a thorough standing sponge bath. It didn’t quite feel as good as the twenty-minute scalding-hot showers she was accustomed to taking back home, but she still felt like a new woman entirely when she dried herself off. Gone was the lingering feeling of lake water, the sweat and grime of several weeks of being bedbound… and though she could still feel the lingering weakness of her illness, she felt ready to leave the room and start exploring this place that was to be her new home.
But she felt a pang of hesitation when she turned her attention to the clothes they’d brought for her. They weren’t clothes so much as they were (she realized, after some reflection) an enormous gown, the kind of quilted thing that she’d vaguely noticed the other women were wearing when they’d come to visit. They’d seemed like simple enough garments then, but it took her an embarrassingly long time to figure out how to enfold herself in the garment… and once it was on (more or less) she wrinkled her nose at how bulky and cumbersome it felt. How did women get anything done in these outfits? She missed the jeans and shirt she’d bee
n wearing on the day she’d gotten here — and God, that already felt like such a long time ago. But for now, wearing those wasn’t an option. She didn’t want to ruin all the work of her bath by putting dirty clothes back onto her nice clean body.
What she did appreciate, though, was that the women had brought her boots back — her own boots. She’d been worried they’d been lost in the depths of the lake or something — or worse, ruined by the water — but to her surprise, the boots were completely dry. And what was more, someone had seen fit to give them a polish — they looked better than they had when they were brand new. She reached down with some difficulty to pull them on over her feet, reaching around the cumbersome skirt of the gown she was wearing, but the feeling of having her boots on again was worth the effort. Even if they felt a little odd with the new pair of socks she was wearing. There was something so strange about socks that had been made by hand… she was used to buying machine-made ten-packs of identical socks from Target, but these were soft and just slightly irregular. There was something about wearing them that made her feel… grounded. As though she was connected to whoever had made the socks with their own hands.
Almost as though she belonged here. Like she was where she was meant to be.
Bolstered by her new clothes, Helen turned to the door and took a deep breath before setting off toward it. She’d glimpsed the space beyond the door to her room before, but actually setting foot out there was a different feeling entirely. Her eyes widened as she peered around the room. It was, to her surprise, not all that different. Sure, the floors were stone and the furniture was clearly handmade, but there was a dining table, a rug on the floor, a collection of wooden toys scattered about the place that served as a comforting reminder that a child lived here… Helen smiled to herself, feeling oddly at home in this living room. It reminded her of her own home, growing up — she certainly hadn’t been expecting that.
Where was Niall? Presumably he was out doing his duties as harbormaster — it certainly seemed busy out there, with all the fishermen coming and going. Did that mean Eamon was with him? Or did he get someone to look after the little boy when he was working? She felt a little embarrassed that she hadn’t asked him more about himself when they’d talked over meals, but he’d been too full of questions about her own background. The next opportunity she got, she promised herself, she was going to find out all about her handsome host and his adorable little handful of trouble.
There were a few more doors in the walls, presumably leading to other rooms in the house, but she’d been inside for weeks now, and the smell of fresh air through the window had made her desperate to get outdoors for a little while. She reminded herself that she was still very unwell — recovering from pneumonia was no easy thing, even with a possibly magical remedy provided by a mysterious old woman from another world. She’d take it easy, and as soon as she felt weak or dizzy, she’d head straight home. But she couldn’t take another day in bed. Not when there was a whole world to explore out there.
She took a deep breath, then reached out for the handle of the front door and stepped out into her brave new world.
Chapter 10
The first thing she realized was that there wasn’t just one jetty protruding out into the waters of the Loch. From this vantage point, she could see that a path ran down the shore, leading to jetty after jetty — at least half a dozen in that direction, leading down to a sandy lakeshore where she could see dozens of people either working on the jetties or strolling on the sand. Beyond the shore, she could just make out what looked like a road winding off into the distance. Was that the direction of the town she’d heard brief mention of? She wished she had a map — or a pen and paper that would let her make a map — or, ideally, her phone and some cell service. But that was a lost cause, she knew. All her belongings had disappeared — whether they were at the bottom of the river with her car, or at the bottom of this Loch, she wasn’t sure, but it didn’t make much of a difference either way. They certainly weren’t with her.
Still, she had eyes and a brain, right? No time like the present to get into the habit of operating without technology. With a wistful sigh, she turned away from the lakeshore, interested in what lay in the other direction. As she turned, she looked up… and up… and up. A huge, dark stone wall, wet with spray from the Loch, rose up out of the water above another half dozen jetties or so. The wall curved around, as though it was encircling some kind of round island, with the jetties down at its base. As she watched, she saw men walking back and forth through little doors and gates in the very base of the wall, where she could just make out staircases that presumably led up into the wall.
Her eyes widened as she gazed up at it — and what lay beyond it. The wall reached high into the sky — it was dozens of feet from the ground to its top, but beyond it was something that stretched even higher. Also made of black stone, decorated with turrets, it was unmistakably medieval… and unmistakably a castle.
Helen realized she’d taken a few steps without even realizing it, her mouth hanging wide open as she stared up in absolute shock at the castle that loomed above her. Had this been what the other women had meant when they’d talked about the Keep? Why, it was a castle! A literal castle — and not the kind of run-down ruin she’d seen pictures of back home. No, this was proud and tall, powerfully built — and she realized as she gazed at it what people meant when they called castles ‘strongholds’. Even a huge army wouldn’t have much luck against a castle like that.
She continued along the stone pathway that ran around the base of the wall, trying to get a sense of the scale of the place. Her instinct was to get up high — from the top of that wall (or even the top of the castle) she’d be able to get a bird’s-eye view that would really help her get her bearings. So, with a little hesitation, she headed for one of the gates that she’d seen men disappearing in and out of… and came face to face with a tall, imposing, bear-like man in armor with a sword at his waist and a kilt in a familiar shade of tartan. He frowned at her for a moment, a thoughtful expression on his face, and she recoiled, suddenly struck with worry.
“You must be Helen,” the man said suddenly. “Elena told me all about your arrival here.”
“Yes,” she said, blinking. “Elena — yes! The cop from Baltimore!”
The guard chuckled, and the smile on his face made her feel a lot less intimidated by the weapon he was wielding. “I’m Brendan Grant. I’m Captain of the Guard here. Elena’s husband,” he added with a grin.
She extended her hand to shake automatically, then hesitated at the slight look of surprise on his face. Was it not done for women to shake hands? But he accepted it, squeezing it in his, and the warmth of his skin reminded her that it was rather chilly out here on the docks. “It’s good to meet you, Brendan.”
“I hadn’t expected to see you up and about so soon. Elena was saying you were dreadfully ill.”
“I was. Still am a little, I suppose,” she said hesitantly. “But Maggie brought me some kind of potion, so…”
“Ah, say no more. I suspect Maggie could bring a soul back from the dead if she set her mind to it. So you’re exploring?”
“I’ve been inside for so long, I felt like I needed to get outside, or I’d explode. I’m trying to get my bearings — is this the Keep the women mentioned?”
“Aye, that’s her. Urquhart Castle, home to Clan Grant. It’s set on an island in the Loch, joined to the mainland by a little land bridge — that’s on the other side, of course. But these walls go all the way around. I’d offer you a tour, but I’m on duty, I’m afraid.”
“I’m more than happy to have a look around by myself,” she said, filing that information away for later. A castle on an island in a lake… it sounded absolutely magical. “If that’s okay, of course?”
“Aye, should be. Just explain you’re a guest of the Grants and you’ll be given safe passage,” Brendan said, smiling. “We’re all more than used to strange women turning up and wandering around at this sta
ge. I imagine the ladies let you know you’re far from the first woman displaced in time to turn up here?”
“They did,” she said softly, feeling a little strange. “It’s… it’s so weird to think about. I mean, I think I haven’t quite.. accepted where I am yet.”
“Only natural. Elena was the same,” Brendan said with a smile. “You take all the time you need, lassie. And if you need anything, we’re all here to help any way we can.”
And with that he was gone, the gentle sounds of the metal of his armor lingering in the air as he set off down towards the docks. Helen hesitated, peering up the staircase he’d just come down. As intrigued as she was by the castle, she had a feeling that her body wasn’t going to do especially well at climbing steep stairs like those ones… she’d promised herself she’d take it easy, hadn’t she? It’d be pretty embarrassing to wind up passing out halfway up the stairs on her first day exploring a new place like this one. And a part of her was a little worried that her enormous skirts wouldn’t fit up the narrow staircase. How did women deal with dresses like this?
So with that decision made, she turned and headed back the other way, toward the lake shore she’d seen from the doorway to Niall’s place. She felt a strong need to be outdoors, to get under the open sky and get her bearings… not just in regard to the layout of the castle that seemed to have become her home, but her place in the universe. After all, hadn’t it changed quite considerably over the last few weeks? Wasn’t she in a different point in space as well as time, now? No wonder she felt so queasy… gravity itself was probably different now, though if she was honest she probably didn’t know enough about space and planets to back that position up too thoroughly. God, that was a thought. Did people know that the Earth was round, not flat? Was it possible that she had more scientific knowledge in her mind than anyone alive?
Needed By The Highlander: A Scottish Time Travel Romance (Highlander Forever Book 5) Page 6