Soul of a Highlander: A Scottish Time Travel Romance (Arch Through Time Book 13)

by Katy Baker

  She nodded to Agatha and Elspeth then walked over and took James’s proffered arm. Together, they swept out of the chamber and into the corridor beyond, Agatha and Elspeth falling into step behind her and picking up the train of her dress.

  The dour walls of Dun Saith had been transformed. In addition to making the preparations for the wedding, Agatha and Elspeth had also taken it upon themselves to transform the interior of the castle as well. Now that it was to have a lady at long last it was to finally start looking like a home rather than the fortress it previously had. As a result, the walls had been white-washed and hung with fresh tapestries and vases of flowers and herbs stood at regular intervals. With summer sunlight streaming through the windows, it was quite the transformation.

  Sophie took a deep breath, steeled her courage, and allowed James to lead her through the castle to the doors. They stepped outside into the bailey and Sophie paused at the top of the steps to look out.

  From here she had a great view of the village and the surrounding countryside and it seemed that every available space fluttered with ribbons and banners in celebration of today’s occasion. The valley had taken on the green of summer and now the fields were like emeralds, sparkling with the green of burgeoning crops.

  Sophie nodded in satisfaction. She had worked tirelessly with the farmers over the last few weeks to root out the blight and sow new crops. Now that the contamination had passed, they were starting to see the fruits of their labors and now, finally, they could relax in the knowledge that nobody would go hungry this winter.

  The patients in the infirmary had recovered as well, although some of them, including Magda, Barric’s wife, were still weak and would not return to full strength for many weeks to come yet.

  “Shall we?” James said.

  Sophie nodded and she and James made their procession down the steps, across the bailey and through the main gates, weaving down the road that was crowded on both sides with well-wishers who had turned out to see the procession of the bride. Good wishes and blessings were called out as she passed and she smiled so wide her cheeks ached.

  James led her off the road and along a path that snaked down to the riverbank. A wide patch of ground had been cleared and was now filled with benches brought down from the castle and others hastily hewn from logs. They were crammed with people. Sophie spotted Barric, Magda, Fergus and Joan down the front, the children bouncing with excitement.

  They came to the end of the aisle and paused. Her gaze sprang to the far end and the man that waited for her there. Callum. She had eyes for nobody else. He was wearing his ceremonial plaid, with a silver dagger strapped to his waist. In the bright summer sunlight, his hair gleamed and light danced in his eyes.

  Her breath caught. He was gorgeous. Gorgeous and strong and fierce. And he was hers. All hers.

  He stared at her, unblinking, and even across the distance, she could see the emotion dancing in his eyes. She allowed James to lead her down the aisle, the guests turning to watch, but she barely noticed them. Her eyes were fixed on her husband.

  They reached Callum and Murdoch and James stepped aside, handing her over to her future husband. Callum’s eyes drank her in, seeming so deep she could drown in them.

  “Sophie,” he breathed, a world of promises in that word.

  Sophie said nothing. All words escaped her. She just stared at him, her heart feeling so swollen with love for this man she was sure it would crack her ribs.

  The priest Callum had brought in for the ceremony cleared his throat. “If ye are ready, we will begin.”

  Callum took her hand and together they turned to face the priest. The thin-faced man smiled and said loudly, “I dinna need to tell ye why we are all gathered here. We are here to witness the marriage of Laird Callum Sutherland and Lady Sophie MacCullough.”

  There was a huge roar at this and the ground shook as people clapped and stamped their feet. Murdoch, Sophie noticed, quickly wiped at his eyes. The priest held up his hands for silence. When the hubbub had died away, he began.

  She spoke the ritual words, made the promises that would bind her to Callum for all time, and Callum did the same, swearing vows that could not be broken. Through it all, Sophie didn’t take her eyes off Callum. He seemed to fill her whole vision. Her whole world. His grip on her hands was tight, promising that he would never let her go as he stared down into her eyes and spoke the words that made her his wife.

  Then it was done. The priest announced them husband and wife and there was a roar and a cheer even louder than the first. Hats and flowers were thrown into the air as the crowd celebrated.

  She and Callum were an island of stillness in the revelry. He reached out and ran his thumb along her chin.

  “I keep thinking I will wake,” he murmured. “And this will all have been a dream. But I know it’s real. My wife. Ye are my wife.”

  A shiver of pleasure went right through her. “I like the sound of that, husband.”

  He grinned. “And I like the sound of that.” Cupping her face in one hand, he leaned down and kissed her. Despite the onlookers, it was a kiss full of fire and passion, a promise of what was to come later and Sophie’s pulse quickened.

  This time the cheer of the crowd was loudest of all.

  “THAT DOG WILL BE THE death of me!” Cook bellowed, panting to a halt and standing with his hands on his hips, trying to catch his breath. His face had turned a startling shade of red and his chest heaved after having evidently chased Wolfie all the way from the kitchens.

  Wolfie, for his part, looked suitably sheepish and shot beneath the table where Fergus and Joan were sitting with their mother but not before Sophie saw him licking something from his chops.

  Sophie hid a grin behind her hand. All around her, the party was in full swing. Everyone had eaten and drank all day and now the games were underway on the green just to the right of where the feast had been set up.

  Callum had already won the arm wrestling contest—much to Baldir’s disgust—and now the armorer was trying to salvage his pride by taking part in the stone-throwing competition. Murdoch, Barric, and several other men were joining in too, and it was getting a little heated.

  Callum had begged off that particular challenge and now sat next to Sophie at the head table, his fingers twined through hers. He rolled his eyes at Cook’s outburst and gave Sophie a long-suffering look. Pushing himself to his feet, he poured a goblet of wine and went over to the man.

  “Dinna worry, my old friend,” he said, clapping him on the shoulder. “I’m sure nobody would begrudge the mutt a few leftovers. Ye’ve kept us royally fed all day and I reckon it’s time ye joined in the fun.”

  “But I’m needed in the kitchen.”

  “I’m sure yer helpers can cope without ye. Come, have a drink and join the celebrations. That’s an order from yer laird.” He smiled and held out the goblet.

  Cook hesitated then reached out and took it. “Well, I wouldnae say no to a drink or two.” He downed the goblet in one.

  Callum barked a laughed and slapped him on the back. “That’s the way!”

  Cook grinned, seeming to have forgotten all about Wolfie, and was ushered into a seat between Agatha and James where the three of them were soon laughing and joking.

  “Nicely done,” Sophie said when Callum rejoined her. “My husband is quite the diplomat, I see.”

  Callum snorted. “Diplomat? Nursemaid more like. A lot of the time being laird is akin to looking after a bunch of squabbling children.”

  Sophie laughed. “Then you make an excellent nursemaid.”

  Callum raised an eyebrow at her. “I’ll take that as a compliment.

  He didn’t look away and as their eyes met, something crept into his gaze, a deep, primal hunger. The sight of it sent a flush of heat through Sophie’s body. She swallowed thickly.

  “You think they’d notice if we snuck away?”

  “I dinna give a fig if they notice or not,” Callum replied, his voice gruff. “I have a hankering to b
e alone with my wife.”

  My wife. She loved to hear those words.

  He rose from the chair, holding out his hand. “Come,” he commanded.

  Sophie was only too happy to obey. She took his hand and allowed him to draw her to her feet. He held out his arm and she lightly laid a hand on it.

  “This way, my lady.”

  Together they swept up the path to the castle and through the gates. The castle was relatively quiet as most people were down on the riverbank enjoying the celebrations. Even from here, Sophie could hear the revelry. Only a few guards posted on the walls marked their arrival, but they politely looked away, allowing the lord and lady their privacy.

  On the threshold of Dun Saith, Callum paused. “Ye are lady of this place now,” he said. “And it’s only fitting that ye enter in the traditional manner.”

  “Traditional manner? What—”

  Before she could finish the sentence, Callum hoisted her into his arms. She laughed in surprise and then clung to him as he theatrically stepped over the threshold, carrying her into the castle. He carried her up the stairs to their chambers and kicked the door open. Only once inside did he lower her feet to the ground.

  “Lord above, lass,” he said, making a show of rubbing at his back. “Ye are heavier than ye look!”

  She glared at him, aiming a mock punch at his shoulder which he evaded with a laugh and then grabbed her hand, entwining his fingers through hers.

  Sophie stared up at him, her breath catching in her throat. He was so beautiful. Her husband was the most handsome man she’d ever laid eyes on. And he was hers.

  Callum took a step closer, his chest touching her body. His hazel eyes caught and reflected the candlelight, little twin flames seeming to burn in their depths. He said nothing, only stared at her.

  “I love ye, Lady Sutherland.” Then he bent his head and kissed her.

  His lips were warm and insistent, sending a shiver of pleasure down her spine. She reached up to tangle her fingers in his thick hair and Callum wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her close. The kiss lasted for a long, long time. Sophie lost all track of time. She lost track of everything but the sensation of his lips against hers.

  But eventually, Callum broke the kiss. He gazed down at her, his eyes dark with desire. Then, without a word, he turned her away from him and began to undress her. His fingers worked expertly at the laces of her dress and when it was untied, he slid the dress from her shoulders to let the fabric pool on the floor at her feet.

  He stepped up behind her, one hand reaching down to caress her buttocks whilst his lips found the back of her neck and kissed delicately. Sophie’s eyes slid closed with a sigh and goose bumps rode across her skin. She felt the bulge of Callum’s erection pressing against her backside and the sensation sent a wash of desire right through her.

  She turned in his embrace and found his mouth with her own, kissing him deeply. At the same time, she gripped the knot that held his plaid and began tugging at it.

  “Damn it!” she hissed in frustration. “Who tied this thing?”

  But finally the knot came undone and Callum stepped free of the plaid, tossing away the rest of his clothing. For a second he stood naked before her and the heat coiling through Sophie’s body roared to a bonfire as her eyes roved over his sculpted, naked form.

  He was hers. Oh God, this gorgeous man was hers.

  Then suddenly, Callum was on her, pinning her against the wall, his body pressed into her whilst his lips laid kisses along her neck, her chest, her collarbone. Sophie gasped in pleasure and reached down to grab his erection, running her fingertips along its length.

  Callum groaned, his body going rigid, a low hiss escaping his lips. Sophie worked him, delighting in the pleasure she was giving him, delighting in being in control. With a feral growl, Callum gripped her under shift and ripped it away with a tearing of fabric.

  “It’s no good,” he said, his voice barely comprehensible. “I have to have ye.”

  He lifted her and carried her over to the bed where he laid her on her back. He climbed onto the bed beside her and ran the tips of his fingers down her side, to her navel, and then between her legs. With a gasp, Sophie arched, screwing her eyes shut as his fingers traveled deeper, finding the core of heat between her legs and slipping inside.

  “Callum,” Sophie gasped. “Oh my god, Callum.”

  “Say my name like that again,” he whispered. “And I willnae be able to stop myself from taking ye.”

  “Callum,” Sophie moaned. “Callum.”

  He straddled her, knees to either side of her hips, rearing above her. She reached up and ran her hands down his chest, her fingertips tracing the contours of his abs. Callum watched her steadily, desire dancing in his eyes. Leaning down, he planted his hands to either side of her face and stared down at her. His knees nudged her legs apart and she shifted, inviting him in.

  Slowly, he lowered his hips, allowing the tip of his erection to slide across the warm skin of Sophie’s core. She gasped, pushing herself towards him. Oh god, how she wanted him. She tingled with need.

  He entered her with a hard, deep thrust, driving himself into her all the way to the hilt. Sophie gasped, cried out at the sudden burst of delicious sensation. She clasped Callum’s back as he began to move, running her fingers down his spine, feeling the muscles bunch and relax in time to his movements.

  With a shudder, Callum drove in again, sending searing heat flooding through Sophie’s body. His presence filled her senses: the heat of his skin, the scent of his body, the sound of his breathing. Sophie moaned, tilting her hips to meet each of his hard thrusts.

  Pleasure thrilled through her, sizzling across her skin and through her veins like electricity. She arched her back as her moans became louder, unable to hold off the sweep of elation that broke over her like a tidal wave, taking her to a juddering, dizzying climax. She bucked against Callum as it swept her away and she was only vaguely aware of Callum jerking and letting out a gasp of his own as he too reached his peak.

  He rested his forehead on her shoulder, chest heaving as he caught his breath and Sophie held herself still, enjoying the sensation of his weight pressing her against the bed. After a moment he lifted his head and looked down at her, his hazel eyes glinting.

  “Now that,” he said, his lips quirking into a grin. “Was worth waiting for.”

  Sophie laughed, a joyous, elated laugh that ripped through her like a summer storm. “You’ll get no argument from me.”

  He lowered his head and kissed her gently, before wrapping his arms tight around her and rolling onto his back, pulling her with him so she was lying on top of him. Sophie kissed him a bit more then rested her head on his broad chest, hearing the thumping of his heart just below her ear. That sound was the sound of her future. It was the sound of Callum’s life—her life—stretching away from them both, exciting and as yet undiscovered.

  “What are ye thinking?” Callum asked.

  She smiled. “That I owe the Scottish weather a debt I can never repay.”

  He looked at her quizzically. “How so?”

  “If it hadn’t been for that storm, you would never have come into St Barnabas’s chapel and we would never have met.”

  “I dinna think that would be the case, love. If we didnae meet then, we would have met some other way. Irene MacAskill told me that ye canna fight yer destiny and I’ve come to realize that she was right. And it was my destiny to find ye.”

  Sophie considered this. Irene had told her that she would find her true path, and she had. Her feet were now firmly set on the road she’d been meant to walk. Tomorrow. She would take her first steps tomorrow. She smiled, leaning down to kiss her husband.

  And Callum would be by her side every step of the way.

  SOMETHING WOKE HER. Sophie sat bolt upright. The suite of rooms she shared with Callum lay dark and quiet. Outside, an owl hooted.

  A sound came from the sitting room that adjoined the bed chamber. Sophie froze. She
ought to wake Callum but instead she found herself slipping out of bed and crossing to the door. She pushed it open to see a figure sitting in a chair by the window. She walked across the room and sank into a chair at the figure’s side.

  “I was beginning to wonder if I would see you again,” Sophie said. For some reason she was not at all surprised by this night time visit.

  Irene MacAskill smiled. “Ye didnae think I would bring ye here and just abandon ye, did ye?” she said, her dark eyes flashing in the moonlight. “Ye were given a choice to come here and must also be given a choice to return.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Exactly what I said. Do ye wish to return home?”

  Sophie’s breath caught. “You mean I could?”

  “Of course, if that’s what ye wish.”

  Sophie blinked. Home. She could go home to the twenty-first century? Back to modern conveniences? Back to warm showers, central heating, TVs and the internet? At that thought, excitement filled her. Home! She could go home!

  But it lasted for only a second before the excitement dissipated like smoke. Home? She was home. What did warm showers and the internet mean against everything she’d found in this time?

  She smiled wryly. “I think you already know my answer. I’m not going anywhere.”

  Irene nodded. “I thought that might be yer decision.”

  For a while there was silence. Irene said nothing, only watched her steadily, a serene expression on her face as though turning up in somebody’s bedroom in the middle of the night was the most normal thing in the world.

  “Did you know what I’d do?” Sophie asked suddenly. “In that cavern? Did you know I’d choose not to release the Unseelie?”

  Irene shook her head. “Nay, my dear. I did not know, I only hoped.”

  “Then you were taking an awful risk. You knew who my family was.”

  “Every choice is a risk,” Irene replied. “And aye, I knew yer family. But I didnae know who ye were, and neither did ye. I hoped ye would learn, and ye have. I hoped ye would realize ye had a choice, and ye did.”