“The Duke arrived about an hour ago. I wanted a look at him before I actually have to face him.”
An hour ago. That fit with the warning signals his Fae senses had been sounding. He shoved her aside so that he could take her place.
“Hey!”
He spared her a quick glance, and she glared at him, her hand rubbing at her chest. He had only a quickly passing thought as to whether or not he had pressed her too tightly against the wall when his attention was fully captured by the scene in the Great Hall.
Blane spoke with two men, one of whom had his back to Ramos; the other he could see in profile. That they were Fae he had no doubt. He could recognize his own kind even without using his inner sight. There was something familiar about the profile he studied, though he was sure he had never met the man.
Ramos allowed himself only a moment of distraction. He had been so certain he would know the Fae who showed up. He needed to see the other’s face, convinced he would recognize him as one of his Nuadian family.
“Please join me in my solar, yer grace. We can discuss our business in privacy there.” Blane moved toward the door, his hand extended in invitation. “And yer brother, of course,” he added, nodding toward the man Ramos had studied.
“But of course, mon ami,” the Duke answered, turning to lead the way.
Ramos jerked back behind the entry, his heart pounding in his chest.
“What is it?” Mairi asked, his panic reflected in her whisper.
They’d both known the Duke could be a threat to her; Ramos just hadn’t realized how great a threat until now.
He had to get her out of here.
They couldn’t take the stairs; that would require passing in front of the Great Hall’s entry and they’d be seen by the men coming this direction. Scanning the empty hallway, he grabbed Mairi’s hand and started toward the farthest door at a run.
“Wait,” she hissed, trying to pull her hand from his. “Where are we going?”
As the voices behind them drew closer, the door just ahead began to swing open.
He wouldn’t risk having her caught. Not yet. He needed a moment to think—to decide what to do, to convince her to go home. Pushing open the door next to them, he grabbed her around the waist, hoisting her from her feet. He clamped a hand over her mouth, stifling her protest as he slipped into the dark, windowless room. Once he had pushed the door shut, he leaned against it.
She fought him and he tightened his hold, crushing her back to his chest, her wildly pounding heart a match for his own.
Nothing was as he had planned. Nothing had prepared him for this.
Ramos had expected to know the Duke, to recognize him as one of the Nuadian Fae. He had thought he might even learn something from the man regarding the whereabouts of his father in this time.
Unfortunately the one thing he had never even considered was the possibility that the Duke would actually be his father.
Panic clawed at Mairi’s throat. It was just like the dream, just like the reality had been.
It was happening all over again.
The room smelled the same, the dank odor of grain and wood filtering to her. A large hand clamped over her mouth, her arms pinned to her sides, her body crushed back against her captor’s. The harder she struggled, the tighter he held her.
It was exactly the same.
Any moment now, he would bind her hands, tie the gag over her mouth, and shove her down the steps, laughing as she fell to the floor. He would kneel over her, the stench of him filling her nostrils as he ran his hands over her body. She would be helpless to stop him from touching her, humiliating her when he trailed his tongue over her flesh. Only his fear of Red Dunald’s wrath would keep him from doing more, but he would explain to her, in detail, what the old laird would do when he arrived. The man’s rancid breath would curl over her skin as he described the indignities that awaited her.
There was no one to hear her, no one to help her.
It was exactly the same.
She struggled against the strong arms, trying to bite the fingers covering her mouth.
“Shh,” her captor cautioned, urgency in his voice. “Be quiet.”
In the silence of the impenetrable dark, she stilled.
The brute had never tried to silence her before. He hadn’t cared if she screamed. Why should he? There was no one to come to her aid.
Mairi fought to control her emotions. She could overcome this fear, could take charge of her life. What had Jesse taught her? Embrace the calm. Center yourself.
The same words Pol had used.
As she slowed her breathing and relaxed her body, the arms that held her loosened. The hand that covered her mouth slid down to her shoulder, the thumb massaged the back of her neck. The breath that ruffled through her hair wasn’t fetid and stale; it was warm and sweet.
No, this wasn’t the same at all.
It wasn’t happening again. It wasn’t even the horrible dream that repeatedly consumed her. This time she hadn’t waited for the terror to slowly ebb away, leaving her weak and trembling. She had taken charge and defeated the paralyzing panic on her own.
She knew where she was and, more important, who it was that held her.
“Ramos?”
“Shh,” he warned again.
Slowly she turned in the loosened circle of his arms, laying her head against his chest as he stroked her hair almost absently. He breathed so quietly, she couldn’t hear him at all, but his heart pounded under her ear, the beat strong and reassuring in the dark.
He drew back from her, his hands rising to caress either side of her face. “You have to go home, Mairi. The Duke is here and we’re out of time. You must leave now.”
Her stomach sank even as his thumbs feathered over her cheeks. How would she tell him she had no way to leave even if she wanted to go? She suspected he wasn’t going to take the news well. After all, he wouldn’t have counted on being stranded in this time when her brother had somehow convinced him to come after her.
“I canna.”
His hands stilled. “Look, you agreed to be gone before the Duke showed up. Well, he’s here now. You need to honor your end of the arrangement. The time for amateur hour has passed. Go home and leave this to me.”
“Amateur hour?” Indignation flooded her, replacing all the guilt she’d felt just a moment before. “Maybe you’ve forgotten, but I’m the one who searched out all the information on these people in the first place. I’m the one who managed to find my way back here unaided. I’m the one—”
“You’re the one who didn’t return home,” he interrupted, placing a finger over her lips. “Which is why I’m here. To see to it that you do get back. Right now. I’m through playing games with you.”
“Games?” she sputtered. Like he could just lay down the law and she would obey? “I told you, I canna leave now.”
His hands slid down to her shoulders. “Well, then, you’d better prepare yourself to spend some time right here, because you’re not walking out of this room. At least not in the thirteenth century, you’re not. So you decide. Go home now or stay in here.”
To think she’d wasted her time and energy worrying about his feelings. She should have remembered that he had the mentality of a caveman so he couldn’t possibly have feelings.
“Then we’re going to be in this room an awfully long time, because I said canna, no willna.”
“Semantics,” he scoffed.
“No semantics. Faeries.”
His grip on her shoulders tightened. “What are you saying?”
“They’re no letting me go back. I already tried.” She wished it weren’t so dark; his expression must be priceless. On the other hand, perhaps it was best he couldn’t see her gloating. Threaten to keep her in a storage room, would he?
“When?”
“When Anabella arrived. That’s why I was up on the parapet with Sallie. But it did no good. Nothing worked.”
“You’re sure?” He sounded doubtful.
> “I think I should know what’s supposed to happen, thank you very much.” She shoved at his chest, wanting some distance.
It might as well have been the cold stone wall she pushed against.
“Perverse bloody Fae,” he muttered under his breath.
Instead of giving her more space, he pulled her closer, enclosing her in his embrace. The heart pounded again under her ear. At first the beat seemed faster than before, but that must have been only her imagination.
With the steady sound comforting her and strong arms soothing her, she closed her eyes and relaxed against the broad wall of muscle. Dimly she acknowledged that she shouldn’t allow herself to think of Ramos as her security blanket, but it was so hard not to. Yes, he could be frustrating and horribly bossy, but when he held her like this, it was difficult to think of those things.
In fact, it was almost impossible to think of anything but the way his warm, smooth skin felt under her fingers. Or the way he smelled, like…wet, muddy horse?
Mairi shivered and pulled back from him.
“We should get out of this storage room. It’s freezing in here and you’re soaked to the skin.”
“We’ll wait a few more minutes. Now be quiet.” He pulled her back against him, his chin resting on her head.
“You’ll catch cold.”
“I don’t get sick.”
Of course he would say that; she should have known. He was a first-rate he-man, after all.
“Maybe you dinna, but I do. And right now I feel like my fingers are turning blue.” A slight exaggeration, perhaps, but she hadn’t dealt with his kind all her life without learning a thing or two about how to manipulate their behavior.
“Bloody hell,” he muttered, running his hands vigorously up and down her arms. “You are cold. How’d you get so wet anyway?”
“Maybe having you drip all over me had something to do with it?”
With a noncommittal grunt, he turned and cracked the door open. A silent hallway greeted them. Taking her hand, Ramos pulled her along behind him.
The door to Blane’s solar was closed, shielding them from the men inside. As they passed by, Mairi once again felt a sharp sting in her chest, just as she had earlier standing at the door to the Great Room. It lasted only a second this time, but she rubbed at the spot anyway.
At the foot of the stairs, Ramos released her hand. She should say something, or turn and go, but she found herself unable to do either as she stared into the blue-green clarity of his eyes. She felt herself held captive.
He lifted his palm to her face, feathering his thumb over her cheek. “I can’t allow anything to happen to you. We’ll figure out a way to get you home.”
His hand slid from her cheek to the back of her head and he pulled her close. The lips that met hers were soft and warm, but the contact much too brief to suit her.
“Go on to your room. I’ll send one of the maids to start a hot bath for you. That’ll warm you up.” He gave her a little shove up the stairs before he strode back down the hall toward the kitchen entrance.
Warm her up? She lifted her fingers to her lips and then to her cheek. She felt plenty warmed up every time Ramos touched her.
Mairi thought of how much she missed hot showers as she poured the pitcher of lukewarm water over her hair to rinse out the last of the soap. Changing position in the large wooden tub, she drew up her knees and leaned back against the scratchy edge, allowing the now tepid water to slosh over her.
She ran her hand over her chest, half expecting to feel something when her fingers encountered her new birthmark. There was nothing she could distinguish by touch, just the normal feel of smooth, wet flesh. It was the birthmark that had stung when she was downstairs. It wasn’t the pleasant electric tingles she’d experienced when the magic surrounded her, but instead was painful, more like when, as a child, she’d fallen into a patch of nettles. Puzzled, she looked down at the skin, unblemished except for the deep, dark red shape of a rose. Another Faerie mystery. One of many, she was beginning to suspect.
Her relaxing bath time was almost at an end. The water had grown cool enough to become uncomfortable. Besides, Sallie would be back soon and the momentary bliss of silence would be broken. The teenager made more noise than anyone Mairi had ever known. Even little Rose would be a quieter roommate.
The thought of her niece gave her a chill to match that of the water. She didn’t want to think about not seeing the little girl again.
She shook her head in wonder as she stood and stepped out of the tub, squeezing the water from her hair. Not so long ago she hadn’t been sure which time was her home. Now that her choice to leave had been taken away, she found she had the answer. She would simply have to figure out what it was the Fae wanted of her and do it so that she could go home.
The drying cloth lay on the floor next to her. It was larger than the heavy towels in her bathroom back home, but much thinner and scratchier. She shook the cloth out and had just draped it around her body when she heard the door open.
“I thought you’d be back soon, Sallie.”
“I’m hardly Sallie.”
Mairi whirled around at the sound of Anabella’s voice, clutching the ends of the cloth tightly in front of her as if it were her shield.
“What are you doing here?”
Anabella stood just inside the room, the door wide open behind her. “I wanted to see you again for myself. I know yer aunt Rosalyn says you’re not who I think you are, but…” The woman narrowed her eyes as she stopped speaking.
“My aunt? I’m afraid yer mistaken, Lady MacPherson. Rosalyn is my cousin.” Mairi’s voice shook, but whether from the stress of the moment or the cold air whipping into the room she wasn’t sure.
“So you say,” the woman murmured, moving slowly toward where Mairi stood. “And yet…” She tilted her head and studied Mairi.
The air eddied around Mairi’s feet and flowed up her wet legs, raising a trail of goose bumps on her skin. “Do you think we might finish this conversation another time?” She shivered and clasped the drying cloth tighter around her.
“I knew it,” Anabella hissed, pointing down at Mairi’s feet. “I was right,” she screamed. “It is you.”
Mairi glanced down and her stomach dropped. There on her toe was the emerald ring Cate had given her so long ago. The ring she wore now out of habit and friendship. The same ring she had originally worn simply to irritate this very woman.
From Anabella’s bloodcurdling shrieks, it seemed that the ring was still doing its job.
Ramos pulled back his damp hair, securing it with a strip of leather before sitting down in front of the fireplace. A wet wool smell steamed from the clothing he’d worn today, now freshly washed and draped over the chair he’d placed close to the fire. He doubted any of it would be dry by morning.
He stretched his long, breeches-clad legs, bringing his bare feet closer to the fire. Ignoring the dank chill of his room, he rested his head against the back of the hard chair and let his mind wander.
Down the dark hallway to the last room on the left.
Would Mairi have completed her bath, too? Or would she even now be finishing up in the large wooden tub, a match to the one sitting in the center of his room? His imagination painted a vivid picture of her, water sheeting down her body as she rose, caressing her curves as he wanted to. Droplets of water clinging to her incredibly long legs—legs he could almost feel wrapped around him.
“No.”
Abruptly he leaned forward, head in his hands, elbows propped on his knees. He had to stop this mental journey before it went any farther.
Being around Mairi seriously messed with his mind. He’d never experienced this type of lust for a woman. All-consuming lust that seemed to take over his actions as well as his good sense.
But lust was all it was, and control it he would. Indulging his desires with this woman wasn’t in the cards. Besides, whatever attraction they felt would fade. Once she returned to her home, her family, she’d for
get all about him. He was nothing more than her appointed Guardian. Sworn to protect her.
The day he’d accepted the offer to become a Guardian was the day he’d given up the right to thoughts of a life with someone like Mairi. On that day he’d pledged himself to one goal and one goal only. He had wanted nothing more than to hunt down and eliminate every Nuadian Fae he could find, starting with Reynard Servans.
Even if that weren’t the case, what kind of Guardian wouldn’t realize that issues far more important than his own personal desires came first. Issues like how he would get Mairi home and how he would keep her safe with his father in the keep.
His father.
Reynard Servans.
The man who had betrayed his trust, lied to him for twenty-eight years and deceived him into doing untold damage to the World of Mortals. His father was responsible for thousands of deaths and centuries of chaos in the Mortal World, all without the slightest thought to those around him.
Reynard Servans was within these very walls.
Ramos rubbed his temples in a futile attempt to drive away the agony he always felt when thinking of his father.
Agony? No. Guilt.
Guilt for turning a blind eye to what he should have seen, should have felt, should have known.
On the day he walked through the Faerie Portal, Ramos had devoted himself to doing everything in his power to atone for his father’s sins. And for his own. He had dreamed of what he would do if he were ever able to confront his father again.
Now that confrontation was imminent.
“And my hands are tied,” he muttered. He couldn’t risk challenging Reynard—at least not until he had Mairi safely out of here. As her Guardian, she was his priority, his primary responsibility.
The first shriek brought him out of his ruminations, out of his chair. By the second, he’d pulled his shirt over his head and was racing down the hallway, following the sound.
To the last door on the left.
It felt as though everything happened at once.
The turmoil inundated Mairi’s senses, paralyzing her. Bodies crowded through the open doorway, drawn by Anabella’s screams. Sallie stood next to the bed, her eyes wide, mirroring the expression worn by the maids. Ran, at his mother’s side, tried to quiet the woman to no avail.
Soul of a Highlander Page 13