Highland Tides

by Anna Markland

  Lexi struggled to stand. “Then we must warn her.”

  Callum understood now why Braden had forewarned them. He pulled her back to his side. “Nay, we canna interfere.”

  “In any case, some students of history claim Mary knew of Bothwell’s plans,” Braden said. “Indeed, some say she was aware of the plot to kill Darnley.”

  “Nay,” Lexi replied hoarsely. “’Tis no secret she and Darnley were estranged, but I can’t believe the Queen would conspire to murder her husband.”

  “Whatever the case,” Braden continued, “Bothwell and Mary will wed. I seem to recall the ceremony took place here in Edinburgh. I dinna remember the date, but it wasna long after she was abducted.”

  “This month?” Callum asked, alarmed when the color drained from Lexi’s face.

  “Sometime in May,” Braden replied. “That’s why I plan to get ye and yer wife as far away from here as possible. I can do naught about Queen Mary’s ultimate fate, but I can save my brother.”

  “Her ultimate fate?” Lexi murmured.

  Braden shook his head slightly. His bleak expression caused Callum to urge his wife to her feet. “We’ve heard enough bad news for the day. Let’s away upstairs. Ye look worn out.”

  She allowed him to lead her to the stairs without objection and they ascended to their chamber.

  ~~~

  Lexi’s limbs were heavy as she climbed the last creaky stair. She would never have made it to the top without Callum’s strong support.

  A thousand thoughts tumbled into her confused mind. Braden had hinted at Queen Mary’s fate and Lexi had no doubt that if her uncle did indeed marry the monarch, folk would condemn her for it.

  James Hepburn was a married man; Catholic Scots would never recognise any divorce he might procure. No priest would marry them, which likely meant a marriage outside the Church, another black mark. On the Protestant side, John Knox was already stirring up opposition to the monarch. Many among the nobility believed Lexi’s uncle guilty of murder and were outraged he’d been acquitted. How could a Queen wed a man who’d killed her husband?

  Rebellion loomed large if what Braden had told her was true. Surely it wasn’t. How was it possible for a man to travel in time? It wasn’t. And yet the way he talked of his precious Charlotte was enough to bring tears to any woman’s eyes. To be so loved…

  “I’ll leave ye to rest,” Callum whispered, guiding her to the bed. “I’ll sleep in Braden’s chamber.”

  His deep voice jolted her from the dark thoughts. “Nay. Don’t go. I’m afraid.”

  He frowned. “I’ll call Mistress Ainslie to assist ye with yer garments.”

  The prospect of the rough tavern keeper’s dirty hands on her didn’t appeal. “You can help me. We are married.”

  The brazen remark surprised her, and she feared Callum might be shocked, but then she supposed if a man had already died there was nothing she might do to stun him. The silly notion was welcome in the midst of doubt and uncertainty.

  She turned her back and lifted her hair. He fumbled with the buttons, shifting his feet nervously and coughing several times. She wondered if what he’d said about saving himself was true. The notion caused her heart to careen around in her chest.

  She slid the dress off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. Only a linen chemise stood between her and a man, a stranger. Yet she trusted him despite believing he was the biggest scoundrel in Christendom a few hours ago. Perhaps exhaustion and shock had taken control of her wits.

  Without warning he kissed her nape. The moisture of his lips and the heat of his breath sent spirals of yearning racing through her. She leaned her head back, willing him to cup her breasts, to touch nipples that suddenly ached to be touched. She may have moaned.

  Mayhap a man who had travelled across time was a conjurer, a wizard. It would explain why there was this alchemy between them. He’d bewitched her.

  He took her trembling hand. “Step out of the gown, my lady,” he whispered.

  She obeyed and he helped her climb into bed, but then backed away. “I’ll sleep on the floor,” he said.

  Disappointment gnawed at her. The afternoon’s revelations had taken a toll on him too. “Nay,” she said, “we can share the bed. I trust you.”

  ~~~

  Callum was torn. Lexi might trust him, but as the afternoon had worn on he’d been increasingly drawn to her. It had been an emotional few hours for them both; being told he’d travelled through time was gut-wrenching, but he had Braden to keep him afloat. She struggled alone with the enormity of what she’d been told. He suspected she still harbored many doubts but had to admire her courage in trying to come to terms with difficult truths.

  Braden had hinted at worse things to come.

  Lexi was a woman alone in the world except for a guardian who evidently cared naught for her well-being. But she wasn’t alone. She had a husband. It was true she hadn’t wanted to marry him, but perhaps he could persuade her of his worthiness. He resolved to protect her from whatever ills threatened.

  He wanted the consuming passion Braden had found, yet sacrificed to save their sister.

  He removed his plaid and tunic and climbed into bed. Kissing Lexi’s nape had already aroused him, the taste of her soft skin filling him with an urge to enfold her in his arms and cup her breasts. He’d wager they’d fit his hands perfectly.

  He lay on his back, willing his arousal to abate. His efforts were for naught when she snuggled into him and was soon asleep with her head on his chest.

  A few short hours ago he’d awoken in this same bed thinking he was in heaven. Now he was in a not unpleasant kind of hell, and he’d an angel in his arms.

  OLD FASHIONED LEGGINGS

  For the second time in less than a day, Callum was startled into wakefulness by a woman’s screams. But this time he knew who was screaming. Lexi was held fast in the grip of a nightmare, clearly terrified. “Help, help me,” she shrieked, flailing her arms. “I’m drowning.”

  For a panic-filled moment he was back in the swirling waters of Corryvreckan, struggling to stay afloat in the darkness, but then it came to him where he was. He sat up quickly and gathered his panting wife into his arms. “Hush, Lexi,” he crooned, “ye’re safe with me.”

  He rocked her against him and slowly she calmed, whimpering as she clung to his shirt, breasts heaving.

  He kissed the top of her head and stroked her tangled curls, relieved when the stiffness subsided and she relaxed in his arms. The damp heat of her slender body soaked into him through her chemise. She had kicked off the linens in her anguish and her legs were bare. He covered her lest she catch a chill.

  “I dreamt I was drowning,” she murmured. “It was terrifying.”

  What to say in reply?

  “Were you afraid?” she asked.

  It came to him this might be a test. He glanced down. The first streaks of dawn’s light traced the path of tears on her cheeks.

  His heart lurched at the memory of his death. “I was more than afraid,” he admitted. “I was angry. It was an avoidable catastrophe. Three sons lost.”

  She snuggled closer. Was it recalling the terror that had his heart beating too fast or the press of her scantily-clad body against him? The pounding was likely deafening her and she must have noticed the hardening at his groin.

  “Braden knows it was his fault,” she whispered. “He was trying to tell you how sorry he was.”

  Relief swamped him. “Ye believe his explanation then? That we’ve come from another time?”

  “I do,” she whispered. “Do you?”

  Until then, Callum hadn’t fully believed he was alive and living in a different century, but if Lexi had come to accept it…

  He bent to kiss her. She opened for him and their tongues mated. She whimpered into his mouth, arching her body as he gently cupped a breast and brushed a thumb over the hard nipple. His already happy shaft turned to granite when she ran her foot up his shin.

  “Lexi,” he growled, “I
hafta get out o’ these leggings.”

  She giggled and looked into his eyes, her hand on his thigh. “You mean these old fashioned leggings that had me thinking right away you were from another century?”

  “Saucy wench,” he chided, lifting his hips in an effort to shove the clothing off his body.

  She came up on her knees, her face lit by a bright smile. “I believed I was marrying a pauper,” she quipped. “We’ll have to get you new clothes.”

  The chemise clung to her, emphasizing the generous breasts, the rigid nipples, the tempting hips. He yanked the leggings off, tore off his shirt and threw the garments aside. She stared at his manhood, the smile gone from her face. Arms folded across her breasts, she shrank back on her heels.

  He reached for her, cursing his lack of finesse. It was likely the first time she’d seen a naked male and he wasn’t a small man. “I’m sorry, Lexi,” he rasped. “I’m new at this. I didna mean to scare ye.”

  ~~~

  Startling as the rigid appendage betwixt Callum’s legs was, it was her body’s reaction to it that alarmed Lexi more. Liquid heat flooded her most private place. She had an lunatic notion to tear off the chemise, cup her breasts and offer them to this splendid male beast.

  She should hate him. He had interfered with her plans to become a nun. The notion was laughable now she’d discovered she was a wanton. And if Braden’s dire tidings were true, what would have become of her if Callum hadn’t appeared out of nowhere?

  Confused by the feelings running rampant through her body, she allowed him to gather her into his arms again. His gentle apology calmed her heart, but not the raging need consuming her, though she didn’t know what it was she needed. The heat of his skin sparked fire low in her belly.

  “Take off yer shift,” he whispered.

  She sat up and complied willingly, yanking the offending garment over her head. She sank back against him, knowing suddenly what it was she craved. To be skin to skin, mouth to mouth, to breathe with him, breasts to chest, thighs to thighs. Her hips began a dance of their own accord and his responded.

  “Lexi,” he breathed, sliding his hard male part into the wet warmth at the apex of her thighs.

  Her name, emerging as a growl from deep in his chest, was the most wondrous thing she’d ever heard. “Callum,” she whispered as he bent his head and suckled her nipple.

  It was as if the rigid little bump was connected to every other part of her body. She was on fire and only Callum could quench the flames. She squealed with disappointment when her nipple popped noisily out of his mouth, but calmed when he moved to the other breast. She sifted her fingers through his long hair, startled to discover it was she making mewling sounds.

  He came up on his knees then sank back on his haunches. She instantly missed the tug of his lips on her nipple, until he lifted her effortlessly and impaled her on his prodigious manhood. He circled her in his arms and stilled when the unexpected stab of pain caused her to cry out.

  She pressed her thighs against his hips, clamped her hands around his neck and threw back her head, relishing the fullness of him inside once the pain had passed. She had in one brief moment become a woman. Her heart swelled. But she needed movement, and sensed he did too. He’d stopped breathing.

  Gazing into his eyes, she put her hands on his strong shoulders, eased her body up then sank back down. The brown orbs darkened. “Do that again,” he rumbled.

  The need in his husky plea caused the muscles in her private place to clench of their own volition. He grew within her in response. She rose up and came down again, and again, and again. Faster and faster, the heat rising inside her body and out.

  He gripped her hips, never taking his eyes from hers, helping her ride him.

  “Something’s coming,” she gasped breathlessly in a deep voice she was sure she’d never used before.

  “I’ll say,” he replied with a tight grin.

  Seconds later euphoric sensations exploded inside her. Callum shouted something unintelligible, slapping her thigh rhythmically. She pressed her palms against the sides of her breasts, arched her back then pinched her nipples, sending more bliss careening around her body.

  She closed her eyes, basking in orange light. Exhausted and sated she collapsed forward against him. Breathing heavily, he lifted her chin and kissed her, drawing her bottom lip between his teeth as he’d done when they were first wed. It filled her with contentment.

  “I know now why I’m here,” he rasped breathlessly. “I traveled one hundred and thirty years for ye.”

  It struck her like a thunderbolt. Not only had he made a woman of her, she’d made a man of him.

  ~~~

  Judging by the squeals and shouts coming from next door, Braden assumed Callum had not only managed to help Lexi over the nightmare that had probably woken everyone in the tavern, he’d made a woman of her.

  He chuckled. His chaste little brother had finally bedded a wench, and a lusty one by the sounds of it. He hoped Callum had remembered some of the things he’d told him about women and what they liked.

  If not, he supposed they’d learn together. Braden had discovered delights he’d never known, with Charlotte. Bollocks! Thoughts of his wife quickly had him aroused. He decided to rise and face the day before he took matters into his own hand.

  The sooner he returned to her, the better, but his departure would have to wait until he was certain Callum and Lexi were safe. He had to get them out of Edinburgh. But where to take them?

  OATS

  Callum smiled inwardly as he fastened the tiny buttons on the back of Lexi’s gown. A few hours ago he’d felt like a green lad undoing them, but that was before he’d discovered his bride’s seemingly insatiable appetite for sexual congress. It was certain she would never have survived a nunnery. Mating with him seemed to have unleashed appetites he suspected she was unaware lurked within. He didn’t mind. Saving himself for this delectable creature had been worth every frustrating moment of Donal’s preaching. Offering a prayer of thanks to his lost brother, he pecked a kiss on her nape. “I heard Braden descending the stairs a while ago,” he said. “He’ll wait for us before breaking his fast.”

  She turned to face him and laughed nervously, blushing fiercely. “I’ll wager your brother understands why a man would linger in his bride’s bed.”

  He pulled her to his body. “I couldna escape,” he teased, feeling renewed stirrings of interest in his shaft. “And if we dinna leave now…”

  Chewing on her lower lip, she glanced over her shoulder at the bed. “What shall we do with the linens?”

  The memory of breaching her maiden’s gate aroused him further, but there was much to discuss with Braden. Plans to be made. “Dinna fash. It’s unlikely Mistress Ainslie will make any effort to change the linens, and if she does I’m sure it’s nay the first time she’s laundered away proof of a virgin’s passage to womanhood.”

  She clung to him. “What would have become of me if you hadn’t appeared, Callum? Swear you’ll never leave me.”

  “I already pledged to ye and I’m a man of my word,” he promised. “Now, come away.”

  He guided her down the stairs and they joined Braden who greeted them with a wink. “All’s well?” he asked.

  Lexi took a place across the table from his brother, and Callum sat next to her on the wooden bench. “Aye,” he replied, putting an arm around Lexi’s shoulders. “All is forgiven.”

  Still blushing, Lexi studied the deep grooves of the table and seemed relieved when Ainslie appeared with bowls of oats.

  Braden rubbed his hands together. “Oats! Now that’s something I missed in Charlotte’s time.”

  Callum didn’t believe it. He and his brothers had been weaned on oats. “They dinna have oats?” he asked.

  Braden tucked in. “They do, but it’s considered food for poor folk.”

  “Charlotte’s wealthy then?” Lexi asked.

  Frowning, Braden looked up. “She’s the niece of a Duke, so I suppose she is.
I never gave it much thought.”

  They made short work of the porridge. “Ye’ve both worked up a good appetite this morning,” Braden quipped.

  Callum glared at his brother. “I’m sure we’ve more important things to discuss. What’s the plan?”

  The grin left Braden’s face as he pushed aside the empty bowl. “If we’re to get out of Edinburgh we need horses.”

  “My mount should still be in the stable,” Lexi said. “If my uncle didn’t steal her.”

  “Mistress Ainslie will give us a donkey,” Braden replied. “At a pinch we can make do with two animals, but we’ll need coin for food and lodging. Truly, I’m nay certain where to go. It’s likely there’ll be turmoil when the Queen is abducted.”

  Lexi fisted her hands atop the table. “I’m not a pauper, but James Hepburn is my guardian and he took control of the money my parents left me. I didn’t object since I was bound for the convent. He was to give the coin to the nuns. I have naught to offer.”

  Callum’s resentment of the Earl of Bothwell threatened to choke him. The man had fled with no thought of his niece’s future. He’d even stolen her dowry.

  “I have my ring,” Braden rasped, twirling it around his finger.

  “Nay,” Lexi cried. “You canna pawn it. ’Tis your only link to your wife.”

  Braden smiled. “Actually, I have another.”

  He dug inside his shirt and pulled out a barrel-shaped amber stone threaded on a cord hung around his neck. “It belonged to Charlotte’s mother,” he said hoarsely. “I promised to return it.”

  The orange gem glowed like a beacon in the dim light of the tavern. The euphoria of joining with Lexi had given Callum a new understanding of Braden’s yearning. He put a hand on his brother’s. “And ye shall,” he said. “Put it away before some miscreant sets his greedy eyes on it. We’ll find another way.”

  ~~~

  It occurred to Lexi she should pinch herself. Mayhap she’d been bewitched by two consummate liars with tricks up their sleeves. Or were Braden and Callum as genuinely caught in a trap as she was? Her mother had once told her some men used bedsport to get what they wanted from a woman. To them it meant nothing more than gratification. There was no guarantee Callum loved her. Did she love him? For certes, he roused feelings and needs she’d never had before and now she craved the fulfillment of those needs. She craved him.