Colm’s mouth was on her, hot and hard. His fingers were working on her laces of the old fashioned gown, and Piper was ready, so ready for him. She fumbled with his kilt, gripping handfuls of the wool, but before she could lift it, Colm had her wrists pinned down by her shoulders.
“Nay, lass, I’m no’ ready for that yet.” And he squeezed her wrists gently before returning to the task of unlacing her gown. Before she could draw breath, Colm’s weight was off her. In a daze, Piper looked around for what reason Colm could possibly have for stopping what they were doing, leaving both of them so unsatisfied.
The sound of his sword being pulled from its leather sheath had her lifting a hand to block the sun so she could see what was wrong. There were horses galloping at them. Right at them. Piper tried to scramble to her feet, but kept getting tangled in all the skirts.
Without even looking at her, Colm leaned down, gripped her arm, and lifted her to stand behind him. It wasn’t until the riders were closer that he lowered his sword and relaxed his stance. Were they friends, then? Piper wondered. Tall enough to peek over his shoulder, Piper watched the men stop a few feet away and say something in what she could only assume was Gaelic. It’s not like the Scots would speak Spanish, right?
Beneath fingers that were still holding on to Colm’s biceps, Piper felt his whole body stiffen. Whatever they were telling him, couldn’t be good. One man pointed his sword directly at Piper and said something that had Colm snarling a response and tightening his grip on her arm to the point of pain. Stifling a gasp at the ache, Piper felt it best to be silent.
One man in the group never took his eyes off her. It was eerie and unnerving. At the same time, though, he looked familiar, which was just ridiculous since it’s not like she’d have ever met him before. Still, something about his eyes were so achingly familiar she almost moved toward him. As it was, her body tensed, ready to move, but Colm’s grip held fast, and Piper’s brain kicked into gear, reminding her she didn’t know that man with the familiar eyes.
Finally, the man spoke. He was angry, no, he was furious. And it was all directed at Colm. What was going on? The man gestured once more to Piper, and growled, actually growled at Colm. Piper’s eyes widened as his met hers once more, only this time he held his hand out to her. His eyes were still snapping fire, but the scowl had softened. What, he thought she’d just take off with a total stranger to who knew where? Piper gulped, her track record didn’t exactly speak well for her since that’s exactly what she’d done with Colm. But that was different, wasn’t it? She may not have known Colm for long, but she felt like she had known him for years. She’d seen into his soul. This man though, she didn’t know him, no matter how familiar he seemed.
Piper shook her head “no” very slightly, and felt Colm’s fingers tighten even more.
The man’s scowl came back full force, as he once more presented his hand for Piper. Again, she shook her head. He yelled at Colm and his horse skittered nervously, attuned to his master’s dark mood. With a final shout at Colm, and a terse nod to her, he turned his horse around and galloped off, the rest of the men following suit.
“What was that all about?” Piper let out a soft breath in relief.
“Rearrange your gown, and come with me.” Gone was her passionate lover, in his place was a cold, hard warrior.
“Huh?” Was he mad at her?
Rather than waiting for her to fix her gown, Colm roughly turned her around and laced her stays up, putting her to rights. He wasn’t speaking, but the white lines around his mouth were tight, and it sounded as if he were grinding his teeth. He was pissed. What had just happened? Once she was dressed properly, Colm took her hand and pulled her along with him back to the manor. During the trek back to the house, Piper kept replaying the events in her head. She should be ashamed of herself at what she’d been about to do. And with a man she’d known all of a day and a half, no less. But she wasn’t. The moment had felt right, everything about him had felt right, but she was also really confused. His total about-face was causing her own anger to slowly simmer, until by the time they’d gotten to the flower garden right off the library, she was furious at him for not letting her in on what had happened.
Digging in her heels, Piper yanked on Malcolm’s arm. “Stop.” He continued on to the doors. Piper pulled harder. “I said stop.”
Finally, he turned around. Nostrils flaring, eyes snapping, he stared her down.
“What the hell was that all about?” Piper demanded.
“Nothing you need fash yourself over.”
“Excuse me? It obviously concerns me, since that one dude was trying to get me to go along with him. And seriously? I let you have your little man-tantrum over there, now get over it and tell me what’s going on?”
He glared at her for just a bit longer, and then he snorted. “Man tantrum?” He chuckled and just like that, her Colm was back. Not the cold hard warrior from before, but her warm, vivacious almost-lover.
“Yeah, you know, the whole silent-fury, pissed-off male thing? Man-tantrum.”
Colm stared at her from hooded eyes for a long moment, before he spoke. “I hurt you.” He lifted her hand, and pressed his lips to the inside of her wrist. “My apologies, ‘twas never my intent to do so.”
Piper shrugged it off. She knew he was sincere, but was he changing the subject? Narrowing her eyes, she reminded him, “You were going to tell me what happened back there.”
“Aye,” but he didn’t seem in any hurry to stop nibbling the inside of her wrist. His tongue was tracing the light blue veins and she couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran along her spine. She felt rather than saw the smile curve against her skin.
Clearing her throat, “Talk. Now.” He sighed, his breath a warm puff of air on her damp skin, but didn’t immediately stop. With a last, lingering press of his lips, he pulled back and faced her.
“Piper, that man claims you belong to him.”
“I belong to no one.” She could feel the heat behind her words.
“He is from clan Grant,” Piper inhaled sharply, “and he wanted you to go with him. He was verra angry you wouldna leave.”
“No kidding,” Piper muttered.
Ignoring her, Colm continued, “He says that if you truly are the daughter of Laird Grant, then you must go back to your clan, where you belong. I told him you belong with me, and that it is here you’ll be staying.”
“He didn’t take that too well, I noticed.” Piper’s feminist side bristled at being told she belonged to Colm, but to be honest, she wanted to stay with him.
“Aye, you’ve the right of it. He wants proof that you are indeed the daughter of the laird, even though his captain claims you could pass for your mother. I fear he wants you for himself. That man was Donald Grant, and he’s been chief since your father was killed.”
So her father really was dead. As an adopted child, she’d always hoped her parents were out there, somewhere, and that they’d really loved and wanted her. They would find her and take her with them, and all would live happily ever after. Piper snorted. As if. Her father was dead. She was alone. And she was supposed to believe she was born in the 1700s?
“My birth mother? Is she alive?”
Colm’s expression gentled, and she knew what he was going say. “Nay, Piper.”
Deflated, she toed the ground with her slipper, feeling less like Cinderella and more like Alice, lost in her wonderland. But, never one to wallow, Piper lifted her chin, sucked in a breath and looked him in the eye. “So, what kind of proof is it that Donald wants?”
“He wants to have the healer look at you. She helped your mother birth you and he thinks she’ll be able to verify who you are. I believe it’s a ploy to entice you to his lands and then he willna let you go.”
Piper released a breath, and took another deep breath, before speaking. “Why is it so important that they prove my identity?”
“If you truly are the laird’s daughter, you have a claim on the lands. You are a threat, Piper.
He wants control of the Grant lands, and he’s had control for years. He willna let go without a fight.” Colm paused, seeming almost unsure of himself. “There are rumors of another heir.”
“I have a sibling?” Shock caused Piper to screech at Colm, who winced at her volume.
“You may have. No one is certain. It is said Laird Grant had a firstborn son, and that he is true heir, but no one has seen or heard from him since you were sent away.”
“A brother,” Piper trailed off, her thoughts lost in the knowledge that she might not be alone anymore. Colm still had hold of her hand, and his thumb was rubbing slow circles in her palm, reminding Piper that she wasn’t exactly alone.
Chapter Seven
The two of them found Caelen in his father’s solar staring at a map on the massive, dark, desk that dominated the room. Without looking up, Caelen said “The Grants were on MacRobert lands, aye?”
“Aye.”
“Have you said aught to my father?”
“Nay, I thought it best we talk about it first. I have a nagging suspicion that they’ll no’ stay away. They want Piper.” His grip on her hand tightened.
“Have you any idea why they want her so badly?”
Colm’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Aye.”
Caelen looked up. “Grissall?”
“She kens more than she told us.”
“Of that I have no doubt. She tells us what she wishes, and we are at her mercy.”
Colm growled low in his throat, “I doona care to be at anyone’s mercy, let alone that of the hag.”
“Aye, you ken I feel the same. Come, let us ask my father if she has told him more than she has us. While we walk, Colm, tell me why they want her so much. Is she truly the daughter of the old Grant laird?”
“Donald Grant believes she is. As does his first. Sometimes even believing something is enough.”
“Grant never needs a reason to cause trouble. That man thrives on conflict.”
They walked in silence until they came to a doorway. Caelen paused. He appeared to be lost in thought for a moment, until he finally spoke. “It seems to me, that whether Piper is or isna the true daughter of the old laird, that Donald will take no chances. My guess is that he’ll try to marry her, or marry her off to one of his more loyal clansmen. Since Laird and Lady Grant died, there has been talk of the lost heir, but we all assumed it was a son. Having Piper at his side, he would have a more legitimate claim to the title than he does now. I’ll ask my father if he kens aught about the missing heir, and if indeed Grissall brought Piper here to cause trouble. She told us ‘twas for the good of our clan, no’ for the good of theirs.”
Caelen pushed the door open and Piper found herself back in her favorite room, the library. She may only have been a part-time librarian, but she loved books, and she’d always be a librarian, whether she worked in one or not. The MacRobert was standing by the fireplace, his arm resting on the mantle, glass of whiskey in hand. For a man old enough to have a grown son, Piper thought he was still a handsome and impressive figure. With broad shoulders a full beard, he looked just as strong as Colm and Caelen.
“Son, what business have you here?”
“Father, I ask you tell us what Grissall told you. Why was it so necessary that we sent Colm to another time to bring back this girl?”
“You think I allow her to give me orders?” Piper had a harder time understanding the laird, his accent was thicker and she had to listen more intently to catch his words and meaning. Although it wasn’t hard to catch his irritation with his son.
“Nay father, but we think that she doesna do good deeds without a price, nor does she play matchmaker, yet that is what she does now. Why?”
“Ah, the lass. Come lassie, let me see what prize I have gained for endangering the man who is like a son to me.” He reached out and gently took her hand. Colm released his hold on Piper and introduced them.
The man who looked like an older version of Caelen stepped away from the fireplace, and lifted Piper’s hand, bowing over it. She blushed a bit, earning a glare from Colm. She shrugged it away. No one had ever bowed to her before, let alone so formally.
The MacRobert held on to her hand, and lifted it high above her head, turning her around full-circle. “So this is the Grant lassie,” he mused.
Piper could tell Colm was losing patience with his laird, but he held himself still, as did Piper, who found it hard to hold the laird’s stare. It was Caelen who broke the silence.
“Why did we need her? What was the reason to send Colm to another time?”
The MacRobert held Piper’s gaze for another moment before looking to his son. “She is the key.”
Piper huffed her annoyance and tugged her hand from the laird.
“You dare disrespect me, lass?” The flash of anger should have warned Piper to keep her trap shut, but she was really irritated at all the cryptic comments and riddles she was supposed to take as answers.
“I don’t mean to be rude, but I mean, really? ‘She is the key,’ Really?” Piper mimicked, rolling her eyes. “You took me from my time without my permission and expect me to be satisfied with these non-answers? Gimme a break.” Piper slammed her fists to her hips and plowed right on. “And by the way, expecting me to believe that I come from another time? Like, what, I was born here, but shipped off to the twentieth century as an infant. Alone. With no one to take care of me. Sorry, not buying it. And besides, you guys act like the decision’s been made that I’ll stay here. I don’t recall anyone saying ‘Hey Piper, welcome to the year 1793, have some haggis and let us rule your destiny. It’s just one big game to you guys. Well guess what? It’s not a game; it’s my life. Operative words there being My and Life. You so do not get to tell me what to do.”
Piper was running out of steam, but she could tell her tirade had stunned them. Well, good. She shouldn’t be the only one who was walking around in a state of shock. These men needed a wake-up call, and hopefully this would at the very least, get a straight answer from someone.
““She doesna sound Scottish, are you sure she is daughter to the Grants?”
“Aye, father, she’s the one.” Caelen sounded amused.
“She speaks so strangely. Did you understand what she was nattering on about?”
“She is right here,” Piper interrupted, “You don’t need to speak as if I’m not in the room.”
“She is rather excitable, is she no’?” The laird scratched his beard, still staring at Piper as if she were about to sprout a second head.
“She is done with this conversation,” Piper threw up her hands and stomped out of the room, only to turn around and stomp right back in. “No, I take it back, I’m not done. I need to know what is so important you felt it necessary to send a man you’ve said you consider a son to you forward in time to come and drag me back here. What the hell am I doing here?”
A very long, drawn-out pause had Piper holding her breath until the laird finally spoke. “A fortnight ago, Grissall came to me and said that if I wanted my clan to regain our former prosperity, I needed to make an alliance with a more powerful clan. This is nothing I didna already ken, but when I dismissed her, she mentioned the Grant lass. That caught my attention as we all ken there is no Grant lass. The Grant laird had naught but one son, and he is missing, if he’s alive at all.”
Piper couldn’t help the sound that escaped her throat, somewhere between a gasp and a moan at the thought of having found out she had a brother only to have him torn from her reach.
“There is talk that the missing heir rides in Donald Grant’s closest, most trusted guard, and Grant himself doesna ken who he is. The rumors are that the Grant heir plans to infiltrate the clan from the inside out. It seems to be working, if ‘tis true. He hasna come forward yet, my guess being that he is biding his time, waiting for more men to align with him. Ousting a chief is a bloody and messy business. It’s no’ easy, and he’ll need allies. ”
Piper once more felt elation at having the possibi
lity of a brother within her grasp. But before she could ask for more information, the MacRobert continued his explanation.
“Lass, I doona ken if he is truly your brother or no’, but if he is, we’ll find out. The fact that you exist, that Grissall was right, worries me. If you exist, then the tale of your parents sending you to another time, a time so far distant from our own means that the threat to them, and to you, is far greater than I’d thought.”
Piper had to clear her throat before she could speak. “What threat could be so great that my parents had to send me to the future?”
“That, my dear lassie, is the question. I have an idea, but I’m no’ certain. If Donald had been planning to murder your father when you were just a babe, and he found out, it explains why he would send you and your brother away, but it doesna explain why he would send you to another time. Why no’ just to another relative or friends? Why are you so important?”
“Gee, thanks,” muttered Piper, but she didn’t have much heat behind the words since she was wondering the same thing. It made sense to keep her brother nearby where he could learn the ways and blend in, but why send Piper so far away?
Colm finally spoke, “I think we need to speak with Grissall.” With his arms crossed, he looked so intimidating. Piper was grateful to have him on her side, and rather pleased that he was so upset on her behalf. She was so busy admiring his battle-fierce pose, and his biceps, that she almost missed what the MacRobert said.
“Aye, and I spoke to Father Douglass about marrying you and the lassie on Sunday.”
“What?!” Piper’s screech was heard across the manor.
* * * *
Piper had stalked to her room in silent fury, with Colm keeping pace. The instant the door was shut, though, she rounded on him. “You are such a liar, God, I’m stupid. I thought you might actually want me, I should have known better. You brought me back to marry you, for what? To cement a claim on my family’s lands?” She noticed that she’d just admitted to having lands. She’d file that away to evaluate later.
Highland Games Page 5