Timeless Mist

by Terisa Wilcox

  "Aye," Iain agreed.

  As Iain had hoped, the food had helped to clear her head an adequate amount that she could speak a bit more clearly, but the wine had loosened her tongue enough that she spoke freely to him, her inhibitions temporarily suspended. He hoped somewhere in her ramblings, she would divulge her true purpose here.

  Kris told him of her home, of her life in what she called Boston. He learned about her siblings and her best friend. She attended college to study art and the history of it, as well as worked in a donut shop during her off hours. Then she had to explain to him what a donut was.

  She told him of her deep sorrow at losing her grandmother just the year prior and how she'd always dreamed of visiting Scotland. During all the stories she told, some that made him laugh, others that made him wish to weep for her, she never mentioned her parents.

  "Ye dinnae speak of your parents, lass. Why is that?"

  Kris shrugged. "There's not really much to say." She sipped her wine. "They gave birth to us kids, then got on with their own lives. They were never really parents. We kids mainly raised ourselves until my grandparents stepped in." She drained her cup and reached to refill it.

  "Tell me more of these future inventions ye speak of."

  Kris raised her eyes and gazed at him with consideration, "why?" she asked, skeptically.

  "I admit to having some curiosity about your tale and these things ye speak of which I ha'e ne'er heard of before." Iain shrugged and forced himself to remain nonchalant. "Tell me about some of these things of which ye spoke. Convince me ye speak the truth."

  "Where would you like me to begin?" Kris eyed him a bit warily, not sure if she should trust him or not, but finally consented with a nod. "Which thing would you like to hear about first?"

  "'Tis your choice, lass." Iain gave her a negligent wave of his hand as he continued to eat. "Ye decide what ye think would convince me."

  Kris took another swallow of wine, realized her cup was empty, and reached for the bottle to refill it again. As she touched the neck of the bottle, however, Iain reached for it as well. Their fingers brushed lightly and she inhaled so sharply at the contact she just about choked. The sudden impulse to reach across the table and touch more of him, too maybe embrace him, stunned her. She looked up and her heart lurched madly at the open look of desire on his face.

  Through the fuzziness clouding her brain, Kris realized that he had felt the same explosive currents racing about in his veins as she did at that simple contact. She yanked her hand away as if burned and held out her cup, not looking at him. Iain quirked a brow at her, but complied in refilling her goblet.

  When she raised her eyes to look at him again, he gave her a knowing smile but only said, "please, my lady, continue wi' your tale. 'Tis quite fascinating."

  The low huskiness of his voice was like a caress as it reached out across the table and sent a shiver of awareness through her. She took a few slow, deep breaths, raised her cup in mock salute and drank half of it before she felt she was in control enough to continue.

  She then proceeded to tell him about many things the future held. She explained about transportation in carriages without horses, planes that flew in the sky like birds, and instruments that let you listen to music without any musicians being present. About flights to the moon in rocket ships, as well as computers and telephones. Something about all these things she told him of niggled at the back of his mind. He couldn't determine what it was, but he would think of it.

  "Would you do me a favor?" Kris asked suddenly.

  Iain looked at her, realizing her words were beginning to slur again. "If 'tis within my power, lass, then aye."

  "I think you'll be able to handle thish." She gave him a lopsided grin. "Do you think you could make the room stop shpinning?"

  Iain couldn't help it, he laughed out loud. With a shake of his head, he took the goblet from her and set it on the table. He stood and gently picked her up. She wrapped both her arms around his neck and laid her head on his shoulder, nuzzling into his neck. His breath hitched in his throat and he nearly stumbled as he carried her across the room to her bed.

  Gathering her closer into his embrace, he held her snugly, not wanting to let go. This lass made him feel things he'd never felt before. Things he wasn't certain he wanted to feel. He wanted her, that was undeniable. But what was this softening he had toward her? He looked down at her, baffled.

  Such things as emotions had never assailed him before, at least not of this magnitude. He shook his head. 'Twas desire, nothing more than that. Want for a beautiful, attractive woman. Though not normally given to such thoughts for he generally had them well under his command, he knew he was not immune to them. He'd learned long ago not to let his emotions rule him, instead, he controlled them with logic and common sense.

  He lay her on the bed and disentangled her arms from around his neck. He smiled, for she was already fast asleep. He turned her over a bit so he could undo the laces of her gown. She mumbled incoherently, but did not wake. Pulling her dress off, he pulled her shift down to cover her legs and draped the dress over a nearby chair.

  Her shape, discernable beneath the thin linen of her shift made his breath catch. She was a tiny thing, but her womanly curves showed him a lushness he would not have imagined in one so small. Maybe it was time to make a trip to the village to seek out a willing wench. Surely that would cure him of this sudden desire to have a woman he barely knew and who could well be a threat to his clan.

  He brushed a strand of hair from her face and gently covered her. He looked at her for a long moment, trying to figure out what is was about her that drew him like a moth to a flame, then turned and left before he thought better of it. He would tell Elsbeth to leave the dishes until morning when Kris was awake so as not to disturb her.

  Chapter Ten

  Iain returned to his chambers after speaking with Elsie, who wasn't surprised to learn that Kris had fallen asleep so fast, nor that she had been soused. She merely shook her head and clucked a bit before Iain could escape, certain when she was done clucking in disapproval she'd have a lecture prepared for him.

  He opened the shutters on the large window in his room and stood staring out at the stars. It was a clear night, the moon nearly at its peak. A soft breeze curled around him bringing the scent of heather and wildflowers.

  He thought over all the things he'd learned about Kristianna tonight. One, she could not hold her liquor. A smile tugged at his lips. Elsbeth said Kris had only had two small cupfuls of the potent usquebaugh before Elsbeth had retrieved it from her and returned it to his study. Although with Kris' size, that would have been enough.

  He looked down at the bag he held in his hand, her bag. Some of the things she'd spoken of had sounded vaguely familiar to him, and now he realized why. His màthair used to entertain him and his brothers with stories about such things when he was a very small boy.

  He hadn't thought about those tales in well over twenty years. Not since he deemed himself too old to believe such fantasies. When he'd reached the age of eight or nine, he'd decided that training to be a knight as his father was more important than listening to fables invented by his màthair to entertain him before he slept. Bedtime stories she'd called them.

  He remembered them now, however, vividly. His favorite had been the story about the astronauts traveling to space. He'd told his màthair when he grew up he would invent a rocket and take her on a trip to the moon. She'd laughed and ruffled his hair, telling him she believed he could do anything he set his mind too.

  He'd been fascinated by her tales of horseless carriages and the ease in which people could travel over great distances in a matter of hours instead of days. How had she known about such things? Had she invented the stories as she'd said? Or was there mayhap more to it than that? Did she, in reality, have first-hand knowledge of all these wonders?

  He would never know the truth of it unless he asked her. But did he dare to question her now with everything else she was going thro
ugh? He'd always thought she had a vivid imagination, but could it be more than that?

  He looked again at Kris' bag and thought about what he'd discovered inside. The marvels he'd seen within it, from the portrait of her to the heavy, round item that had bellowed at him so rudely, all attested to the truth.

  With a sigh he put the bag back into its hiding place beneath a loose stone in the wall beside the fireplace. He would sleep on it all. Mayhap in the morning he'd have an answer or two to his many questions.

  * * *

  Kris groaned and rolled onto her back, her hand going to her head. Oh man, what had she done? She didn't remember too much past that second drink of whiskey. Wow, somebody should have warned her what potent stuff that was. Not that it would have helped or swayed her much. She'd really wanted a good, stiff drink. But goodness, she paid the price for it now.

  She should have known better anyway. Mixing her drinks was always a no-no. If she'd had those first couple of glasses of whiskey and stopped there, she more than likely would have been fine. She rarely suffered a hangover, unless, of course, she mixed her drinks.

  She wasn't much of a drinker to begin with, so the whiskey had hit her hard. The last time she drank like that was right after she'd broken up with David. It had been warranted then, too. It had also hit her just as hard.

  Figured that both times she’d been literally driven to drink it had been because of a man. This time, however, she didn't have any kind of aspirin or Aleve too at least help dull the pain a bit.

  She groaned again. This was not good. Not good at all. What she really wanted to do was pull the covers up over her head and hide for the day. She sighed. As appealing as that thought might be, she realized that spending the day in bed would probably not help the situation in the least.

  She pushed back the coverlet and carefully edged herself to a sitting position. She sat on the edge of the bed, her hand to her head, waiting until the room and her stomach stopped whirling before she put her feet down to the floor in an attempt to stand. She had just gingerly begun to put a foot on the floor when the door opened a bit and Elsbeth peeked her head in.

  "Good morning, Elsie." Kris attempted a smile, but realized it came out a bit on the wobbly side.

  "Good morning, lass. And how are ye feeling this fine morn?"

  Kris grimaced, "I think you know perfectly well how I'm feeling. You don't happen to have anything for this hangover do you?" Her tone as hopeful as she could make it.

  Elsbeth chuckled. "Aye, lass, I do." She bustled over and handed Kris a mug. "My advice, lass, is to no' smell it, just hold your nose and down it quick as ye can. 'Twill be easier to take that way."

  "If it will help, I'm willing to try anything at this point." Kris held her nose and drank down the contents before she thought better of it. The aftertaste was horrible. She shuddered and handed the mug back to Elsbeth, who handed her a piece of bread. "I won't even ask what was in that. It's probably better if I don't know."

  Elsbeth nodded. "Gi'e it few minutes and eat that bread slowly, lass. You'll feel better soon."

  "One can only hope," Kris whispered. Even the sound of her own voice seemed too loudly resonate through her head.

  "Now, lass, what may I ask ye, got into ye last eve?"

  Kris shook her head and offered a shrug. "I had a headache and really wanted something stronger than normal to drink. I needed to relax and forget everything for a while."

  Elsbeth pursed her lips and gave her a sideways glance, "and here I was thinking the laird might ha’e been the cause of such behavior.”

  "I'll admit that he had a thing or two to do with it." Kris met Elsbeth’s smile with one of her own.

  "I thought as much," Elsbeth laughed.

  "Don't worry, though, it's not something I do very often. I usually don't like to drink anything stronger than milk or water. Maybe a soda now and then, or a glass of weak wine. Sometimes, though, I feel like I want something more."

  "Aye, there are times when I ha'e felt the like as well." Elsbeth watched her closely for a moment or two before she nodded. 'Tis good to know ye dinnae indulge often in the practice though."

  "I couldn't take the morning after effects." She grimaced. "I don't like pain, especially from a headache and I hate feeling sick to my stomach. A hangover causes both." She nibbled on the bread, beginning to feel better. She watched as Elsbeth cleaned up the remnants of last evening's meal.

  "When ye have broken your fast, the laird wishes to speak wi' ye."

  Kris' head shot up. "Again? I wonder what about this time."

  "I ha'e no' the slightest notion." She finished collecting the dishes and headed for the door. "I shall return in a moment wi' your meal and a pitcher of water for ye to wash wi'. Why dinnae ye pick out what ye wish to wear today whilst I see to that for ye."

  Kris nodded absently, wondering if she'd done or said something last night to Iain that she should regret. She shrugged. There wasn't anything she could do about it now if she had. She'd apologize for whatever it was if she had to and hope that would be enough. He probably just had more questions for her.

  She moved to stand up, unsure as to whether her legs would hold her or not. Letting go of the bed, she tested her walking ability and found it not unmanageable. Fingering the dress she had worn last night, she hoped Elsbeth had something to get the stains from that ham glaze out of this beautiful gown. She'd feel terrible if it was ruined thanks to her carelessness.

  Then she realized the gown was draped over a chair and she was dressed in only the simple linen shift she'd worn under the dress.

  How had she gotten this way? Who undressed her?

  She sat down in the chair and cradled her head in her hands. Oh man. She must have been more intoxicated than she'd realized if she couldn't even remember how she'd gotten undressed.

  She recalled much of what she'd done and said, but the more she struggled and thought on it, the more she realized that there were some very large gaps in her memory.

  This was so not good.

  She could only pray that at some point Elsbeth had come back and managed to help her at least get that gown off. She did not even want to think about the alternative.

  Hearing the door open, she turned, expecting Elsbeth. Instead, Iain stood there, a tray of food balanced in one hand.

  "How is it," Kris began as she jumped up and reached for her robe. Once it was tied securely in place, she put her hands on her hips, "How is it that you have the uncanny ability to always show up when I'm expecting Elsbeth?"

  "I stopped Elsie on her way back up to your chambers." Iain almost laughed out loud at the look of utter irritation on her face. He bit the inside of his cheek and shrugged. "I know she had some other things to tend too, so I offered to bring your food up to ye."

  "Oh, well." Kris chewed her lip. She didn't want to be a burden on anyone. "Well," she said again, "I realize she's probably got a lot of things to do and I have been taking up a lot of her time lately. I'll need her help again too, to get into that gown."

  Iain nodded and set the tray on the table. "Would ye like my help?" Now where had that come from?

  Kris looked as stunned as Iain felt by the offer. She shook her head and hesitated a moment before she asked, "you didn't happen…" she looked at her feet then up again, a light blush coloring her cheeks. "I was quite drunk last night."

  "Aye, that ye were." Iain agreed.

  "I was just wondering," Kris blew her hair out of her eyes with a frustrated breath, "um, it wasn't you who helped me undress last night, was it?"

  Her heart sank and her face felt as if it were suddenly on fire when Iain nodded.

  "Ye were in no condition to get that gown off, lass. It would ha'e been most uncomfortable to sleep in all that material, so aye, 'twas I who helped ye."

  "I wish you hadn't." Kris groaned and sank down into the chair again, her hands covering her face. "I mean, I'm grateful for your thoughtfulness, but I wish you'd gotten Elsbeth or one of the other women to help me.
"

  "To be honest," Iain shrugged as he set the tray of food on the table. "I dinnae think of it. I saw it needed to be done, and did it."

  He bit back a grin when Kris raised her head, her already flaming face turning even redder. He was truly not trying to further embarrass her, but the thought struck him that she looked quite adorable drawing designs in the rug with her toe and examining them as if they held great interest. And all the while, her face grew a deeper shade of red.

  Finally, he took pity on her, "lass, ye ha'e nothing to be ashamed of. Ye were close to unconscious from the amount of spirits ye consumed and I but sought to help ye achieve a more restful night's sleep. Nay more than that, I promise ye."

  "I just feel so foolish," Kris stood and glanced up at him before looking away again, "especially because I have a few rather large gaps in my memories of last night. And, well," she looked at the floor again, "I don't know you very well, and…"

  Iain strode over to her, put a hand under her chin and gently lifted her face until their eyes met. "I will no' take insult at what ye are suggesting, lass. Nay matter what I may think of a woman, whether I believe her an enemy or no', I would ne'er take a lass wi' out her full, knowledgeable consent and complete awareness of what she was agreeing too."

  "Oh, right." Kris was falling into the depths of his remarkable blue eyes and nearly missed what he had said. "Of course you wouldn't. I hadn't meant that, exactly," she said, frantically looking anywhere but into his eyes again. "I now your mother, and Elsbeth, remember?"

  Iain chuckled and released her, "aye, ye do. And 'tis like as not my màthair would skin me alive if I'd e'er e'en entertained a thought along those lines."

  Kris laughed, the tension leaving her. "I just wanted to apologize for my behavior," she glanced at him, "getting so drunk and all, I mean." She started loading a bowl with food, "about the other, well just forget it. I would never be silly enough to think that someone who looks like you…" She trailed off and sat down at the table, pretending great attention to her food. After a quick glance in Iain's direction, she continued, "I know, I'm babbling again. My fiancé says I do it all the time. It's one of the many bad habits I seem to have, that and pacing." She grimaced, "I think I'll shut up now."