“There’s no reason to assume saving your life means putting myself in danger or that any of it involves fighting.”
“There is no reason to assume it does no’ mean exactly that, lass. Either way, I mean to prevent any event which will put us in harm’s way.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think life works like that, Malcolm.”
“Then I will make it work like that. I dinna wish you to feel like a prisoner here, but I have taken measures to keep you safe.” He ran his thumb over the curve of her cheek. “You may keep your weapons with the understanding that you stay within the walls until we know what we face.”
Alethia chewed on her thumbnail while pondering his words. He took both of her hands and held them, counting the seconds until she gave him the disgruntled look he knew would follow. He brushed her lips with his when she did.
“Not fair.” She scowled at him. “Maybe this whole thing has more to do with some kind of information I’ll give you. I am a truth-sayer. Or maybe I’ll prevent an accident from happening.”
Hunter burst into the room then. Beaming at them both, he rushed to the couch and hopped up to snuggle next to Alethia. Malcolm put his arm around him, pulling the lad closer so he could rub his head. “You’ve done wonders with the lad, True. You’ll be a good mother one day.” He watched the blush rise to her cheeks. “Wouldn’t you like to have children of your own?”
“I want a large family.” She studied her hands, and the color on her cheeks deepened. “I always wished I had brothers and sisters, especially after my parents died.”
The breath he’d been holding came out in a rush. He’d give her a keep full of children. The thought of their wee sons and daughters filling his home thrilled him. Aye, and the thought of Alethia growing large with his bairn had the blood rushing to his groin again. “Can we come to an agreement, Alethia?”
“What sort of agreement?”
He smiled at her skeptical look. “The kind where you obey my every command and reveal every secret you carry.”
She snorted. “You’re not the—”
“Aye. As you have informed me more than once, I am no’ the bossamee.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Alethia set her wooden pail down on the ground and stretched, placing her hands on the small of her aching back. Inhaling deeply, she savored the earthy scents of freshly cut rye. The wind shifted, bringing with it the tantalizing aromas of the stew simmering over the open fires near the lake. Her stomach rumbled. The clan had been taking their meals communally since harvest began, and they would continue to do so until all the crops were in.
Taking up the pail again, she moved toward a group of women bundling the cut crops for pickup. She handed a ladle of cool spring water to an older woman while her gaze drifted to Malcolm for the hundredth time.
He swung a scythe through the field with fluid strength. She could watch him all day. She had watched him all day. His powerful body made the backbreaking task look easy. Early on, she’d noticed other men set themselves to his pace. Very few kept up with him for long.
“Milady?”
“Huh?” Alethia turned to find the woman regarding her outstretched arm in amusement, the empty ladle held up in midair. “Oh. Would you like more?”
“Maybe if you spent less time staring at my brother and paid more attention to your task, there would be far fewer who thirst as they toil.” Elaine nudged her.
“I’m not staring at anybody.” The heat of a blush filled her cheeks.
“Nay? ’Tis a wonder your neck has no’ gone stiff from all the looking you have no’ done this week.” Elaine laughed, and the women joined her.
“Go away.” Alethia scowled. “There are thirsty people in the fields calling your name.”
“Really? ’Tis your name I hear most oft called.” Still chuckling, Elaine moved away to offer water elsewhere.
Quick movement caught Alethia’s eye. She turned to see Hunter streaking toward her through a field of oats. He slammed into her knees to stop himself, and water sloshed over the sides of the bucket onto her gown. Hunter scurried behind her, burrowing himself into the backs of her legs. She tried to dislodge him by turning. He stayed put.
She searched the fields, looking for whatever it was that had frightened him. Malcolm strode their way with a boy in tow. The child held his hands up to his nose to stanch the flow of blood. She put her bucket down and reached back to drag Hunter out from behind her.
“True, I have need of your aid,” Malcolm said once they’d reached her. “This is Tieren.” He gave the boy a small shake. “I would have you sign to Hunter what is being said.”
Tieren glared at Hunter. She pulled a scrap of linen from her pocket, wet it with the ladle from her bucket and handed it to him. She watched as he smeared the blood from his nose over the lower half of his face. “Of course,” she replied.
“’Tis unbefitting for a MacKintosh to hide behind a woman’s skirts when his own foolishness lands him in trouble.” Malcolm frowned at Hunter, who stood dejectedly before him. “You will each tell your side before I render judgment.” Malcolm turned to Tieren and spoke to him in Gaelic, while she signed as simply as she could for Hunter to understand.
Only a few of Malcolm’s words were familiar to her, but when the boy answered, she knew he wasn’t telling the truth. “He’s lying.”
“Aye, I dinna doubt it,” Malcolm replied. “He says Hunter attacked without provocation.” Malcolm placed a hand on Hunter’s shoulder. “Ask him to tell his side.”
Alethia touched Hunter, whose gaze was fixed on Malcolm. She signed the question, and he sent her pictures and signed as best he could. “A group of boys taunt him,” she began. “This one is their leader. As long as Hunter faces them, or can see where they are, he can protect himself, even though he’s much smaller.” At this point, Hunter lifted his chin and gave Malcolm a small, boastful grin. “But they wait until his back is turned and…”
She gasped, and her eyes flashed to Malcolm’s. “They’ve been throwing stones at him!” She had to swallow hard and fight to keep from throttling the child in Malcolm’s grasp. “Tieren believed Hunter wouldn’t be able to tell his side.” She forced the words out around the lump in her throat.
Malcolm turned Hunter and lifted his shirt. His scrawny back was covered with fresh, angry welts. More marked the backs of his legs. Malcolm spoke harshly in Gaelic to Tieren, who hung his head. She watched Malcolm’s face tighten as he stepped away. The muscle in his jaw twitched, and his hands were clenched at his sides. Several tense moments passed before he turned back to them.
“What did you say to Tieren?”
“His actions are those of a coward and a bully. I let him know of my displeasure. Such behavior is unacceptable to our clan.” Motioning to the boys, he took up the bucket of water resting at Alethia’s feet. “Explain to Hunter the two of them are to share the job of bringing water to those who sweat in the fields, so that we all have food to eat during the long winter months. He and Tieren will share this task until harvest is complete down to the last turnip.”
Alethia signed to Hunter while Malcolm spoke to the other boy in low tones. It was clear to her more was being said than the description of their punishment. Tieren’s face fell, and she sensed the deep shame and the remorse he felt.
Without looking at each other, the two boys lifted the bucket between them and walked away. The disparity in their height caused water to slosh onto their spindly legs. “Do you think this will be the end of it?”
“Nay.” Malcolm wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve and watched their progress.
“You reminded me of my father just now. He was a great leader and a good man.”
“’Tis high praise indeed.” His eyes twinkled as he smiled at her.
“It’s meant to be. I remember a similar penance he gave three boys in our village. They ran wild and caused trouble everywhere they went. The three of them harassed an elderly woman and vandalized her property. She
was a widow and alone. My father sentenced the boys to be her guardians for a year. They had to cut wood for her, shovel snow from her door and make sure she had food to eat, that sort of thing.”
She smiled at him. “By the end of the year, one of the boys had grown so close to her, he adopted her as his nokomis. That’s the word for grandmother in my language. My father managed to kill two birds with one stone. The elder was no longer alone, and the boys got the attention they needed.”
“You miss him.”
“Every day.” She sighed. “He gave me my violin, and my mother was the first to teach me how to play. I think…” Suddenly feeling shy, she turned away from Malcolm to track the two boys.
“What is it, True?”
“I think my parents would have liked you.” She spotted Hunter and Tieren straying from their path. They put the bucket down and moved into the tall rushes growing near the lake. Hunter faced Tieren with his chest thrown out and his hands held up in fists. Tieren swung at him, and Hunter ducked the blow and sprang up to head-butt Tieren in the stomach. They both went down on the ground, rolling, kicking and punching. “Oh! They’re fighting.” She took a step, intending to rush to Hunter’s aid.
Malcolm’s arm came around her waist. “You canna fight the lad’s battles for him. No’ if he is to grow into the kind of man we would have him become.”
“Tieren is so much bigger.”
“Aye, but Hunter is twice as canny. ’Tis a fair fight. Watch.”
Hunter managed to free himself from Tieren’s grasp, and both boys were on their feet again. Hunter grinned at Tieren, who threw wild punches that never connected. Hunter darted in, met his mark and darted away before the bigger boy could catch him. He soon triumphed, and Tieren lay on the ground in defeat. Alethia’s heart swelled with pride as Hunter extended his hand to help Tieren up.
A rumble from deep in Malcolm’s chest reverberated through her as he chuckled behind her. “Hunter is a fine lad, and he will grow to be a good man. The two have much in common. Neither has a father to guide him.” He moved his hands to her shoulders. “I predict the two will become fast friends. ’Twould be good to include Tieren while you teach the signs to the men.”
Admiration for Malcolm’s skill as a leader filled her. Sure, he was domineering, but his actions revealed a deep caring for his people, thoughtfulness and an honorable character. The way he dealt with Hunter warmed her heart. No wonder she was falling for him.
Falling for him?
“Oh crap!” She pushed Malcolm’s hands from her shoulders and started to pace. She was a talented violinist with a bright future in the twenty-first century, not the Middle Ages. Only the best were accepted into Juilliard, and she was one of the best. Her plans didn’t include falling in love with a fifteenth-century, overbearing, controlling warrior. “This is all your fault, Malcolm,” she accused with a glare.
“What is my fault?”
She covered her burning cheeks with her hands. “What do I do now?”
“About what, lass?”
“How could I have let this happen?” she muttered under her breath.
“Cease your pacing, woman. ’Tis making me dizzy.” He stepped in front of her and took hold of her shoulders to keep her still. Lifting her chin until she had to look into his eyes, he studied her intently. Could he see what she was feeling?
“What ails you?”
Her heart skipped a beat, and she lost the ability to speak, or think. “I…I…”
“Aye?”
“The boys are doing my job. What should I do now?” So lame!
He gave her that wicked smile of his, the one that made her weak in the knees. Malcolm took her by the hand and pulled her behind a large oak. His hands encircled her waist as he pressed her up against the trunk of the tree and kissed her. A thrilling sensation flooded her body, and her heart raced. His kiss claimed her. He plundered her mouth with his tongue, inciting a rush of desire.
Did he feel the same, or was it only lust?
She tuned into him, opening herself to the truth his heart would reveal. What came back was a tangle she could not unravel. Lust, definitely, protectiveness and other feelings she didn’t know how to interpret. Alethia ran her fingers through his thick hair and melted into his strength with helpless abandon.
Several seconds passed before she recalled where they were. Flushed and breathless, she ended the kiss and tried to take a step away. He tightened his hold.
“I should help with supper.” She pushed at his chest.
“I must get back to my own task as well.” Malcolm released her, running his hands up and down her arms. As if he regretted letting her go, he drew her back and kissed her again. “A few more days and the harvest will be done,” he whispered against her lips, causing electricity to run straight through her. “I’ve a surprise for you, mo cridhe. ’Twill please you, I think.”
“Oh?” She didn’t think she could handle another surprise.
With a quick kiss, Malcolm left her and returned to the fields. Her mind reeled. No matter what happened or how everything played out, she was in for heartbreak. Either she’d lose her family for all time, or she’d lose Malcolm, Hunter and everyone else she’d come to care for in this time and place.
She watched Malcolm walk back to the fields, memorizing the way he moved, the breadth of his shoulders, his strength and the confident way he carried the authority he’d been born to. She blinked several times to ease the sting in her eyes.
Damn that old witch.
Dazed, Alethia wandered down to the lake and offered to help with supper. After dropping the ladle into the stew twice and nearly setting herself on fire, the cook sent her away with a disdainful snort. She sat down on a bench to brood by herself.
“What ails you, True?” Elaine took a seat next to her, placing freshly baked bread and two steaming bowls of lamb stew in front of them. “You have been staring at naught by air for a good while.”
“Tired, I guess.”
“Is that all? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost. Has my lout of a brother been ticking you off again?”
She shook herself out of her blue mood to smile at Elaine’s use of twenty-first-century vernacular. “No. I’m fine.”
“You dinna look or sound fine.”
“I used to spend most of every day playing my violin.” She sighed. “I haven’t even touched it for days.”
“This concerns you?” Elaine dipped a piece of bread into her stew and took a bite, all the while eyeing her intently.
“Yes. No. I don’t know.” Alethia put her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her fists. “It’s just that things have…changed, become more complicated.” She glanced at Elaine.
“Aye, being in love will do that to a lass.”
She covered her face with her hands and groaned. “Is it so obvious?”
“You think no one notices when Malcolm pulls you behind a tree to steal a kiss?” She nudged her. “Or when you put your arms around his neck and kiss him back? Today’s kiss is no’ the first. He stole another in the bailey, aye? Our people do love to gossip.”
“What am I going to do?” she mumbled into her hands.
“What is there to do? ’Tis a good thing.”
“It’s not that simple.” She raised her head to look at her friend. “This isn’t my home, or my…” She pressed her lips together, and for the first time she longed to tell someone the whole story.
“Dinna vex yourself.” Elaine gave her arm a squeeze. “It pleases everyone to see my brother so content. He canna keep his eyes off you, or his hands.” She laughed at the expression of shock Alethia gave her.
“Elaine, can you keep a secret?”
“Of course.” Her expression serious, Elaine studied her.
“I know your brother and father believe I was drugged and sent here by ship, but that’s not what happened at all.” She tried to read Elaine’s reaction and detected only curiosity and concern. “I never ate or drank anything when I was in G
iselle’s tent. Things happened that I can’t explain. One minute I was in my own land, and the next I was here. She used magic.”
Elaine’s eyes widened, and several seconds passed before she replied. “It matters no’ how you came to us. We are a clan steeped in tales of such happenings. This land is ancient, peopled first by beings capable of doing great magic. Mayhap Giselle harks back to that ancient race.”
“You believe me?” Relief washed through her. Until that moment, she hadn’t realized how much she needed to tell someone what had really happened.
“Aye. I believe you.” Elaine reached for Alethia’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “You dinna strike me as one to tell falsehoods. It must have been frightening.”
“To say the least. If Giselle could send me here without my consent, she can also send me back.”
“Malcolm would never allow her to take you from us,” Elaine huffed.
“How can he prevent it? Giselle isn’t what she seems to be at all. I don’t even think she’s human. What can Malcolm do to prevent magic?” She played with the bread in front of her. “Nothing can come of what I feel for your brother. Giselle sent me here for a specific reason, and once I’ve completed the task, I’m sure she’ll send me back.” She struggled to keep from crying. “Besides, what Malcolm feels for me is only lust and a misguided sense of responsibility.”
“You dinna know him as I do,” Elaine admonished.
“Nothing can come of it.” Alethia shook her head, trying to convince herself. She couldn’t very well take Malcolm home with her to her own time. He wouldn’t know how to fit into the twenty-first century. His time was now. He’d been born to lead, and his clan needed him.
“What is this task you speak of?” Elaine asked.
“I’m supposed to save Malcolm’s life.”
“True,” Elaine exclaimed, “you could no’ have been sent here to save the man you love only to be ripped from his side once the task is finished. ’Twould be a cruel joke indeed.”
True to the Highlander (The Novels of Loch Moigh) Page 11