Highland Guardian

by Melissa Mayhue

  Ian scrubbed at his face. “Verra well. We’ll go with this morning’s plan. But if, as you suspect, someone on the Nuadian High Council is behind all of this, I’d feel much better leaving her here where she’s safe.”

  Dallyn stood, turning his face up to the sun before looking down at the other two men. “Oh, it’s one of them, I’ve no doubt. Though I may not be the Sensor our little guest is, I feel a strong evil touch. Not on Sarah,” he added hastily as he held up a hand. “But if they learn of her, they won’t hesitate to use her. Until we know which one of them we’re dealing with, she’s safer with you than here alone.” He turned to Henry, offering a small nod of his head. “No offense intended, my young friend.”

  “None taken, General.”

  “A Sensor.” Dallyn pursed his lips thoughtfully, his hands clasped behind his back as he studied the floor. “Even in the long ago, true Sensors were rare. The Fates moved them about the Mortal Plain at their own whim, placing them where they needed to be, when they needed to be there, and drawing others to them like pieces on a game board.” He looked up and smiled. “Where you find a coincidence on the Mortal Plain, you’ll find a Sensor. I have a suspicion things are about to get very interesting for our little guest. Good day, my friends.”

  Ian watched in silence as his friend disappeared around the curve in the path. “Bloody cryptic Fae,” he muttered as he stood.

  He had too much to do to simply sit here. They’d spoken with Daniel earlier. He’d been very clear. Ian must leave for Glaston House tomorrow. The others would be arriving over the next couple of days and Ian must be there to meet them.

  Everything now rested on whether or not Ian could persuade Sarah to join him. Of course, he could always use a compulsion, but somehow that seemed wrong to do to Sarah.

  Henry’s chuckle brought him back to the present. “I’ll never get used to someone who barely looks old enough to be my son referring to me as his ’young friend.’ ”

  “You are but a youngster to him, Henry. Dallyn was already old by the time I was born.”

  Ian glanced back down the path the Fae had taken. The path that led past the cottage and Sarah.

  He rose from his chair. Time to go see exactly how persuasive he could be with his new friend.

  * * *

  Ian watched the cottage for several minutes before approaching the door. The windows were all open. Though it was early, she was obviously awake, removing that excuse to delay his visit. He was stalling and he knew it, still not convinced this was the best plan. But, as it was the only one they had, he didn’t have much choice.

  Walking up the path to the entrance, he caught sight of her through the front window. She stood in the center of the room, both hands molded around a cup, staring at the ceiling.

  He hesitated again at the door, which stood wide open. She still hadn’t moved, oblivious to his presence.

  “Sarah?” He leaned his head inside the door.

  “Holy sh—” She jumped, spilling dark liquid down the front of her sweatshirt.

  “I’m sorry. I dinna mean to startle you.”

  “Not your fault. I get totally lost sometimes.” She smiled and sat the cup down on the end table. “What brings you out here so early in the morning?”

  “You do.” At her look of confusion, he spread his hands in a helpless gesture. “I have a big problem and I dinna know who else to ask for assistance.”

  Her eyes went wide. “Is Henry all right?”

  “He’s fine—it’s no that.” He looked around expectantly. “May I come in and talk to you about it?”

  “Oh.”

  She paused for a moment and nervously tucked her hair behind her ears, a useless gesture in Ian’s opinion since the curls slid right back over again.

  “How rude of me. I’m sorry.” She held out a hand, inviting him in. “Would you like some coffee?” She started toward the kitchen area.

  “I’d no want to trouble you.”

  “No trouble. I have to refill mine anyway.” She gestured at the front of her sweatshirt, then stopped and pulled it off over her head.

  Ian’s world slowed for an instant, watching her remove the soiled clothing. The little blue T-shirt she wore underneath rose up with the outer covering, exposing a small expanse of pale, flat stomach. As the blue cotton fluttered down to meet the little shorts she wore, he had to clench his hands together to keep from reaching out toward her. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had affected him so strongly in such a short period of time.

  “Coffee would be good.” He followed her into the kitchen area and took a seat at the table, hoping his voice didn’t sound as strained as it felt right now.

  She brought filled cups and sat across from him. “Now, what exactly is it I can do to help you?”

  “My friend Daniel and his wife are hosting a house party and they’ve asked that I come down to assist them. Their estate is a bit south of Bristol.” He paused to take a sip of his coffee, sneaking a quick look at Sarah to assess her reaction so far. “The guests he’s invited are quite important to Daniel. He really wants to make a good impression.”

  She put her coffee on the table, although she still cupped both hands around it. “So, what would you like me to do? Keep an eye on Henry while you’re gone?”

  “No, Martha and Peter take excellent care of him.” He paused to make sure he had eye contact. “What I’d like is for you to come with me.”

  “What?”

  “I’ve spoken to Daniel and Nessa about bringing a guest to round out the group. I’d verra much like that guest to be you.”

  “Why me?”

  Time to test Henry’s theory about Sarah being a Sensor. He placed his hand on top of hers, leaving it there in spite of the flinch he felt. It would be much harder for her to refuse if she knew he told the truth.

  “All the invited guests are bringing their wives. I dinna have one of those.” He grinned. “I thought perhaps you’d agree to be my surrogate.”

  She paused and looked down at his hand on hers. He wondered briefly if she might pull away, but instead she took a deep breath and then looked back at him.

  “You’re an attractive young man, Ian.”

  “I’m pleased you think so,” he interrupted, still grinning.

  She ignored him and continued, “Because of that alone, I’m sure there are many women, all much younger than I, who would be happy to be your surrogate.”

  Her hand trembled under his.

  “Perhaps. But, first of all, I’m no as young as you might think.” Not by a goodly number of years. “More to the point, Daniel and Nessa are close friends. These people and this get-together are verra important to Daniel. I’d no embarrass him by bringing just anyone. I need someone special. I need you to come with me.”

  Her eyes widened and he bit back a smile of success as he released her hand. Score one for Henry’s theory. She certainly appeared to have felt the honesty of his words.

  “What’s so important about this house party?” She clasped her hands together, moving them to her lap.

  He hoped Daniel’s cover story for luring their suspects to Glaston House would convince Sarah as well.

  “Daniel’s got it in his mind to be on the board of directors for this charity group. He’s hosting a long country weekend for the men in charge of the organization. Four days on his estate getting to know him and Nessa, determining whether or no Daniel meets their standards. Some relaxing leisure time, a couple of dinners—all the things men of their station expect.”

  “You don’t sound terribly impressed.”

  “Aye, well, if I’m of a mind to donate time or money, I do, but Daniel’s no the sort of chap to be satisfied with that alone. When he wants to get involved, he throws himself into it completely. Whole hog, I believe you Yanks say. His focus right now is entirely on making it onto this board and, if that’s what he wants, I’ll do whatever I can to help him.” He gave her what he hoped was an engaging smile. “I need you to help me, s
o I can help him.”

  “Well…”

  The little frown on her face and the hesitation in her voice told him she was wavering.

  “It would be a great opportunity for you as well. Their estate is only a short distance from some of the places you mentioned you’d like to visit before you go home. Stonehenge, Glastonbury Tor, Avebury. You did say seeing them was important to you, did you no?”

  He almost had her now. He bit back another smile. It would be very bad form on his part to add that, with her abilities, he wouldn’t allow her within five miles of any one of those places until this current threat was over. Each of them housed their own Portals to the Realm of Faerie. Having her close to the Portal on this property where he could watch over her was bad enough.

  “When would we go?”

  Got her, like a trout on the hook. “We need to leave tomorrow morning. It’ll take us about seven hours by auto—past some of the loveliest scenery England has to offer, I might add. Right down through the lake country. We’ll return on Monday. On our way home, we could even do a quick diversion to Wales, if you like.”

  Her hands were back around her coffee cup, her thumbs unconsciously tapping together. “I’d really love to see those places, and I don’t know that I’ll get another opportunity. If you’re sure an additional guest wouldn’t be a burden for your friends.”

  He reached out and covered her hand with his own once more. “I’ve spoken to them about you. I told them I hoped I’d be able to persuade you to come along. They’re excited to meet you and they’re looking forward to yer coming down with me.”

  The pause before she answered was almost unbearable. He could see the thoughts churning through her head and the turmoil they caused reflected on her face.

  “Okay. I’ll do it,” she answered at last. Her hand still trembled under his.

  “Thank you, Sarah. You canna imagine how much this means to me.” He stood. “I’ve got some things to get ready now, but I’ll be by about eight in the morning to fetch you. Is that agreeable to you?”

  She looked like a frightened deer, ready to run, but she nodded and stood, sliding her hands into the pockets of her shorts.

  He walked down the path to the manor house, turning once and waving since she still stood in the doorway. For now he would concentrate on what he needed to do next, on how to keep everyone safe, on how to deal with the threat.

  He would not concentrate on how long her legs looked in those little blue shorts, on how soft they would feel. While there were many things he enjoyed about this current century, at this moment female mode of dress was quite high on his list.

  Oh yes, this was shaping up to be one long weekend.

  Eight

  How did she get herself into these situations? Sarah glanced to her right, sneaking a quick peek at the man driving the car in which she rode. Why did she keep saying yes to Ian?

  Because he asked for her help like he really needed it and no one had ever done that before. Because he was honest with her.

  Brad had certainly never asked for her help. Nor had he been honest with her. And once he’d had a taste of the uncomfortable abilities she’d lived with since childhood, even the promise of her coming trust fund wasn’t enough to keep him around.

  Their split had been messy and painful for Sarah, but it was just as well it had happened so soon after their marriage. They’d been young then. As it was, each had moved on with their lives. Separately. The last she’d heard a few years ago, Brad had remarried, finally finding the wealthy wife he’d always wanted. For her part, she’d be happiest if she never saw the man again.

  She should never have said yes to him.

  And here she was, saying yes to a man all over again.

  Why? Partly because it felt like she should, as if the persistent intuitive feelings that plagued her wanted her to say yes.

  And, if she were completely honest with herself, she’d have to admit it was partly because she liked to see the hint of a dimple that showed up when Ian smiled. Because she wanted to spend more time with him, even though that was a really bad idea.

  More time with him meant more opportunity for him to realize how different she was from everyone else. Worse yet, the more she was around him, the more she liked him. And that would make his ultimate rejection of her that much more painful.

  What was she thinking? Ian was too young, too handsome, too normal to ever be interested in her as more than a friend. No, not normal, she reminded herself. The man was practically royalty. So far out of her league that her even thinking about him was sheer fantasy.

  Sarah leaned her forehead against the window, watching the passing countryside to clear her thoughts.

  The trip had been wonderful so far. Not having to concentrate on driving, she could devote herself to the scenery. Ian had even taken a detour, or diversion as they called it here, to show her a couple of castles, smiling mysteriously when she said she’d love to see one up close. He told her he was certain they’d get a close look at a castle before their trip was over. He also promised that on the way back they could take an extra hour or so to see Melrose Abbey, where Robert the Bruce’s heart was buried.

  “I think we’d best pull over for some petrol up ahead.” Ian jarred her from her current musings. “Do you want anything? A fruit smash or some sweets?”

  “No thanks.” She’d tried one of the fruit-flavored soft drinks at lunch and found it a bit tart for her taste.

  Ian pulled into the service station and grabbed his wallet from the car visor. After removing a credit card, he tossed the wallet down on the console between the seats before heading into the little shop.

  Sarah watched his reflection in the side mirror. She smiled, thinking that he certainly did justice to that pair of jeans, when she noticed a couple of young women stop to admire him as he entered the store. They elbowed one another and giggled. No wonder. He was quite an eyeful, and probably about their age. One of the women looked in her direction and Sarah quickly turned her head.

  Glancing down, she caught sight of his wallet and a thought suddenly crossed her mind. His license would be in there. And his birth date would likely be on that license. She looked back at the mirror. Ian was still somewhere deep in the interior of the little shop, nowhere near the windows or the front counter.

  It wasn’t hers. Going through it would be snooping. She didn’t snoop. Besides, she had no doubt that she could ask him his age and he’d tell her. And then he’d ask her age.

  Another glance at the mirror and then down. The wallet, lying open no more than four inches from her hand, seemed to call out to her. Her fingers twitched, and then eased closer, almost of their own accord. Her eyes darted back to the mirror. Still no sign of him.

  Her fingers brushed the wallet. The black leather was soft and warm from lying in the sun. Another check of the mirror. He was at the register, smiling at the girl who was ringing up his purchase.

  Now or never.

  Sarah turned the wallet around and stared at a small replica of Ian’s handsome face, feeling as if his eyes in the picture chastised her. Guilt washed over her and she turned the billfold back around as it had been. But not before checking the date. Barely twenty-eight. Ten years younger.

  You knew as much.

  She glanced back at the mirror as he exited the shop. One of the two young women who’d watched him, the tall redhead, approached him now, placing a hand on his arm as she spoke to him. He smiled at her as he listened, gifting her with his full attention.

  Sarah snapped her eyes away from the mirror. Of course a man who looked like that was going to attract the attention of other women. What else could she expect? Besides, they were simply friends. It didn’t matter in the least if he stopped to chat with that redhead. It meant nothing to her.

  She drummed her fingernails on the door handle. Enough. She needed chocolate. Now.

  She climbed out of the car and headed toward the shop, raising her head in time to catch Ian’s quizzical look as sh
e passed him.

  “Changed my mind,” she mumbled, unwilling to stop and face the irritated gaze of the redhead whose hand still rested on Ian’s arm.

  The “Sweets” counter held a wealth of unknown candy bars, but there were some familiar names. Sarah reached for a chocolate bar, barely restraining herself from tearing it open then and there. A bottled water would be just the thing to wash the candy down nicely.

  She started for the coolers visible at the back of the store when something caught her eye. A rack of paperbacks, and, in the middle of them, a familiar cover.

  “Oh my God.” She picked it up, running her hand over the face of the book. It was one thing to know your book was going to be released in another country. It was an entirely different matter to see it sitting on a shelf.

  “I take it S. J. Douglas is you?”

  She jumped at the sound of Ian’s voice so close to her ear, the book and her candy bar both hitting the floor.

  “I thought you were outside already.” She placed a hand over her pounding heart. How had he managed to sneak up on her so quietly?

  He straightened after retrieving her things from the floor, amusement clear on his face. Sarah snatched the chocolate from his hands and stalked to the cashier. She noticed on her way to the car that the redhead and her friend had disappeared. Ian joined her a short time later, and they pulled back onto the motorway.

  After several minutes of silence, he cleared his throat in what sounded like a mixture of cough and chuckle. She glanced over. If he was laughing at her, she might have to seriously hurt the man. His eyes were straight ahead, not a sign of a smile to be found.

  Sarah released a deep breath and relaxed back against the leather seat.

  “That’s why I dinna recognize it, you see,” he said softly. “I believe they’re called romantic novels here, no women’s literature.”

  She sneaked a sideways glance at him. His eyes were still on the road, but there was no mistaking the grin that covered his face.