by Bess McBride
He put his hands on his hips and tilted his head. How I loved him.
“Ye think ye can stop me?”
“I can try, Colin.”
He moved toward me, and I held my ground. His demeanor wasn’t threatening, but almost hesitant. He came to stand in front of me, and I tilted my head to look up at him. My heart pounded.
“Ye say ye loved me. Do ye still?”
With a catch in my breath, I nodded.
“Yes, I do.”
Before I knew what he was about, he pulled me into his arms and kissed me. I wrapped my hands around his neck and clung to him. I realized he didn’t know me, but I knew him, and that was enough.
He released me gently and stepped back.
“Ye might be verra easy to love, Mistress Pratt,” he said softly.
“I don’t know about that,” I said with a wry smile as my heart melted. “But you did love me.”
“Perhaps I will again,” he said, reaching out to run a finger along my cheek. “If I can believe that ye arna spying for the English.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him that he could ask Stephen himself when he showed up, but I must have been wising up. My advance knowledge of Stephen’s pending arrival would only reaffirm Colin’s belief that I was a spy.
“How can I prove it to you?” I asked.
Colin shook his head. “I dinna ken. Perhaps time,” he said, “time and trust.”
“So you’re not dragging me off to Fort William tomorrow?”
He smiled and chuckled.
“Nay, I think I must keep ye here awhile, mistress, if only to assure myself that ye are nae a spy.”
He tapped my nose with his finger and walked past me.
“I dinna go out this evening to engage with Jacobites or rebels or the like. Ye may close yer door.” Which he promptly did.
I waited for a few minutes and opened the door again to peek out. I loved the man, but I didn’t trust him as far as the length of his kilt. The hallway was empty, and I grabbed the plaid from the bottom of the bed, wrapped it around me and headed for his door. I tiptoed at first, but realized that stone floors don’t creak. I stopped outside his door and stared at the smooth slabs of granite that passed for a floor.
Swallowing hard, I bunched the plaid up under my backside and sat down on the floor just to the left of his door. The material was a poor substitute for a cushion. The floor was no softer than it looked, and it was cold. I had to be nuts!
I sat there for an hour, my eyelids drooping on occasion, but the hardness of the floor kept me from drowsing. With the aid of the wall sconces, which still burned softly, I contemplated the runner in the middle of the hallway and wondered why it didn’t cover the width of the hall.
After a few more minutes of that torture, I admitted defeat, rising stiffly to my feet with a stretch. I could leave my door open every night, hoping I would hear Colin go by should he decide to make a midnight assignation with the rebels, but I could not camp outside his door. I hobbled to my room, left the door open and climbed into bed fully dressed, pulling the plaid over me.
As I drifted off, I thought I heard Colin’s voice.
“I dinna think ye would ever leave yer post, Beth. Good night, lass.”
When I opened my eyes in the dark, no one stood in the doorway, and I told myself it was just a dream.
****
I awakened suddenly to a raucous sound, and I pushed myself upright. Colin! Was he sneaking out of the house? If so, there was no sneaking about it. Everyone in the castle could probably hear the banging. As if someone banged on the front door.
Then I remembered. Stephen! The knocking was Stephen and his men. They had come the first night I arrived. I threw my plaid aside and reached for the candlestick, hurrying over to light it from the embers in the dying fire.
I ran down to the end of the hall and trotted down to the foyer. As before, Stephen stood inside the doorway, with his red-and-black uniformed soldiers hovering behind him just outside, and Colin, wearing only a white linen shirt and trousers, faced them belligerently. I had a sense of déjà vu, although I didn’t think I was wearing a day’s-old silk gown the first time I’d witnessed this scene. Mrs. Agnew, fully dressed, though with her hair hanging down her back, stood back holding a candle aloft, as did George and his wife.
Colin looked up to see me descending the stairs. Where previously he had angrily directed Mrs. Agnew to take me back to my room, now he quirked an eyebrow in my direction.
“Ah! Here is Mistress Pratt. I think ye ken each other?”
I guessed I wasn’t going to be introduced as Colin’s cousin anymore.
“I think not,” Stephen said. His gold hair gleamed in the candlelight as he doffed his hat. “Madam,” he said.
I nodded and dipped a short curtsey, aware that Colin watched me closely. He turned to Stephen.
“Ye havena met Mistress Pratt afore, then?”
Stephen blinked and looked at Colin curiously.
“No, I have not had the pleasure.” Stephen bowed. “Mistress Pratt, I am delighted to meet you, although I beg your pardon at our intrusion at such a late hour.” He turned to eye his men. “We were traveling through your estate but found ourselves trapped by the swollen river, and we came to the castle to seek shelter with Lord Anderson.”
Colin firmed his chin. “Were ye nae just here a month ago, Captain Jones? I dinna run an inn, ye ken?”
I hadn’t remembered Colin saying that before, even when I thought he was running a hotel. It seemed as if things might be quite different this time around. I hoped not the timing of Colin’s death.
“Yes, I know,” Stephen said ruefully. “Shall I send my men around to the kitchen entrance?”
With a sigh suggesting he practiced immense patience, Colin nodded.
“Aye. Mrs. Agnew, please ready a room for Captain Jones,” Colin said. “Mrs. Renwick, the soldiers will need some food and drink.” George and Mrs. Renwick retreated toward the kitchen as the soldiers filtered back out the doorway, leaving only Stephen, Colin and myself in the hallway.
I watched Mrs. Agnew head for the stairs. I guessed she wasn’t going to swoop me away upstairs to stoke my fire and put me to bed as she had last time.
“Thank you,” Stephen said to Colin.
Colin merely nodded and gestured for Stephen to follow him. He led him to the great room, and I followed.
“I am awake now. Ye’ll be wanting some food and drink, Captain. Ye might as well join me for a whisky,” Colin said. On entering the room, Colin turned around and saw me bringing up the rear.
“Dinna ye wish to return to yer bed, Mistress Pratt? I ken the captain and his men will no longer disturb yer sleep this night.”
Stephen removed his hat and shrugged out of his wet red jacket, revealing a white linen shirt and neckcloth.
“Oh, I’m fine,” I said airily. “I’d like a whisky too, if you don’t mind.”
Colin’s expressive eyebrows showed his displeasure, but he said nothing as he moved toward the mantel over the fireplace to ring the bell. He bent to add wood to the fire, which had died down to embers.
I seated myself in my usual place at the great table, and Stephen took the chair opposite me. George hurried in, having adjusted his clothing and buttoned what needed buttoning.
“Some food for the captain, George,” Colin said in English. George nodded and left. Colin moved to a sideboard and brought the decanter of whisky and glasses to the table. He poured out a measure in three glasses and distributed them.
“Are you from America, Mistress Pratt?” Stephen began. And there we went again, asking where I was from. This time, I changed my origins to Boston, Massachusetts, instead of Montana.
“Ah! Boston,” Stephen said. “My uncle emigrated to Boston. I hope to visit there one day. Do you find it agreeable? Is it as overcrowded as one hears?”
I swallowed hard. I knew nothing about Boston. Nothing. When was I ever going to get this thing right?
&
nbsp; Colin watched me carefully.
I mumbled something innocuous to avoid details, busied myself with the strong whisky, and Stephen let the matter go.
Colin and Stephen discussed the weather and the rising river, while I remained silent. George returned with some hot soup and bread, and Stephen ate quickly. He rose fairly soon after.
“Thank you for this wonderful repast, Lord Anderson. I think I will just settle the men and retire to a room to sleep. I understand how tiresome our visit must be for you. We will be on our way as soon as possible.”
“Mistress Pratt,” he said with a bow as he picked up his jacket and hat and left the room, leaving Colin and I staring at each other.
“It would seem that ye dinna ken each other after all,” Colin said.
“Well, I told you that!” Naturally, the whisky was making me lippy.
“Aye, ye did. Which leaves us with this notion of time travel.”
I nodded. “Yup.”
“Tell me more,” he said. And similarly to the first night I arrived, I told Colin about the twenty-first century while he listened and asked questions.
We finished the bottle of whisky, at which point, quite tipsy, I must have fallen asleep while talking, because I woke up in Colin’s arms as he carried me upstairs. He deposited me on my bed and pulled the plaid over me. Having Colin tuck me in was much better than Mrs. Agnew. I watched, my head swimming, while he stoked the fire before he returned to my side.
He allowed the back of his hand to brush my cheek, a sensation so soothing that my eyes shut again.
“Good night, lass. I think it is verra likely that I will love ye again. I regret that I canna remember the first time.”
“I love you,” I mumbled.
“Yer words warm my heart, Beth,” he said softly. “Sleep well.”
Chapter Nineteen
The following morning, Mrs. Agnew awakened me with a tap on the door, entering to deposit a handful of garments on the end of my bed.
“Good morning, mistress,” she said. “His lairdship said to bring ye some of Lady Mary’s dresses.” She turned and eyed me curiously. “Canna ye tell me how ye came to have her brown silk? I did look this morning, and it’s gone missing.”
“I can’t explain it, Mrs. Agnew, but I didn’t sneak into castle and steal it.”
Mrs. Agnew’s eyes widened.
“Och, noooo, mistress. I didna suggest such a thing. But I thought it were one of the housemaids stealing things and selling them—”
I shook my head as I sat up and swung my legs over the edge of the bed. Somehow, I had slept in my shoes again. I was not proud of that.
“No one stole the dress, Mrs. Agnew.”
She waited, but I could offer nothing more.
“Could I have a bath, Mrs. Agnew?”
“Aye. I will send Sarah up with hot water,” she said. “We’re short a lady’s maid, having no need of one, but I can return to help ye dress after ye bathe.”
I shook my head.
“No need, Mrs. Agnew. I can dress myself.”
“If there is naethin else then, breakfast will be ready soon. Do ye care for a tray in yer room?”
“No, thank you. I’ll go downstairs.”
She left the room, and I found the chamber pot. I wasn’t exactly used to the dratted thing, but there was no alternative.
Sarah came with the hot water, and I enjoyed my bath. I selected a teal-blue silk dress to wear that morning, wound my hair on top of my head, and found my way to the great room.
Colin, seated at the table, rose when I entered. He smiled softly, and I suddenly remembered his last words to me.
Good night, lass. I think it is verra likely that I will love ye again. I regret that I canna remember the first time.
And I had told him I loved him. What had come naturally only a day ago now seemed brash, as if I was telling a stranger I was in love with him.
My cheeks flamed, and I dropped my eyes to the chair he pulled out for me.
“Did ye get any rest at all last night? Dinna think I didna know ye guarded my door for a spell before the soldiers came.”
My eyes flew to his face. He’d known I was there. How embarrassing.
“Well, I am worried about you.”
“Aye, I can see that ye are, mistress.” His dark eyes regarded me softly, and my heart pounded.
The door opened, and George entered with a tray of food, followed by Stephen.
The usual pleasantries were exchanged, mostly by Stephen, as Colin had resumed his habit of glowering at the English officer. I found it fascinating that Colin’s expressions could vary so much, going from warm to dour in no time at all.
“I ventured down to the river this morning. It isna yet passable,” Colin said.
My jaw dropped. He had gone out. I had slept through the whole thing. How was I going to stop the inevitable if I couldn’t even watch him for twenty-four hours?
I stared daggers at him, and he regarded me evenly.
“You promised!” I said, forgetting that Stephen sat across from me.
Colin’s eyes hardened.
“I willna be a prisoner in my own castle, Mistress Pratt. I told ye I wouldna venture out at night.”
Stephen coughed discreetly behind his napkin.
“Thank you for checking on the river, Lord Anderson. It seems we must trespass on your hospitality awhile longer.”
Colin ignored him, keeping his eyes locked on mine as I stared at him. I heard Stephen though, and I bit my lip and broke our gaze.
“You look very lovely this morning, Mistress Pratt,” Stephen said. “May I ask if your gown is from America?”
“It is from Edinburgh,” Colin said brusquely, turning his attention to his food. Frown lines creased his brow.
I tried to relax my own angry face.
“Very fine work, I must say,” Stephen continued. I knew he was trying to bring some civility back to the table, and I couldn’t imagine what he thought about Colin and me. “I must recommend Edinburgh seamstresses to my own sister in London.”
I smiled at Stephen, wanting to participate in his innocuous conversation, but I had no idea what to say even about the clothing. Stephen didn’t know who I was in relation to Colin, and he was obviously too polite to ask.
“Mistress Pratt was a friend of my sister,” Colin said. “She has come to pay her respects.”
Stephen’s smile drooped.
“My condolences, madam. I did not have a chance to meet Lady Mary, but she was loved by all who knew her.”
“Aye,” Colin said, his shoulders drooping. “She was a bonnie lass.”
I could see that he still mourned her loss, and my heart went out to him.
“Yes, she was,” I said. I dared not say more.
“Then you have been to Scotland before? How did you meet Lady Mary?” Stephen asked.
As much as I liked Stephen, he asked far too many questions. I threw Colin a quick glance.
“Aye, Mistress Pratt has been to Edinburgh before. That is where they met.”
Colin then changed the conversation to the weather again, and Stephen’s curiosity was diverted from me.
I followed Colin around for the rest of the morning, sitting in the library and reading a book while he worked on correspondence. After a few hours, he turned to look out the window.
“The rain has eased. Since ye have set yerself as my shadow, I wish to walk down to the river to see how it progresses. Are ye up for the journey?”
I nodded and rose.
“I just need a cloak and those wooden shoes by the back door.”
Colin tilted his head. “How did ye know of those?”
I quirked an eyebrow and gave him a pointed look.
“I’ve been here before?”
“Aye, so ye have said.”
I followed him to the back door, where he draped the cloak around my shoulders. I slipped into the sturdier shoes while he donned a greatcoat, and we returned to the front of the house to set
out. This time, I managed to hike my skirts up to my waistband myself.
Colin, his mood lightening as we trekked away from the castle, asked me more questions, especially about the sensation of traveling through time. I answered as best I could.
We reached the river, which had indeed spilled over the banks, the trail and the small bridge. Colin paused at the top of the hill.
“What would happen if ye were to touch the river again?” he asked.
“I would probably travel through time,” I said, “back to my time.”
“I think ye should go home, Beth,” he said quietly. “It isna safe in the Highlands right now. I think ye should go.”
Anguish tore at my heart.
“No!” I said. “I can’t.”
He turned to look at me.
“Because ye feel the need to save me?”
“Yes!” I said. “That, and I love you. I can’t leave you.”
Colin pulled me into his arms, pressing his lips to the top of my head.
“Ye canna stay, lass. It is too dangerous. If I must help my fellow clansmen, then I must. I canna turn my back on them any more than my father already did.”
I wrapped my arms around his waist, pressing my face to his chest.
“No, I won’t go. You can’t make me go, Colin. I’m staying here with you. This is where I belong, no matter how dangerous it is.”
Colin slipped a hand under my chin and lifted my face. He bent his head to kiss me, and I was once again certain I could never willingly leave him.
He lifted his head and looked down into my eyes with a soft gaze.
“I dinna want ye to go either, Beth. I want ye to stay with me. I wish only to protect ye.”
“No,” I said firmly. “I’m staying.”
A smile spread across his face, and he nodded.
“I had to insist, ye ken.”
“I know,” I said. I reached up to touch my lips to his. He cupped my face in his palms.
“Is it possible to lose my heart in a moment?” he whispered.
“I know I did,” I said, warmth spreading throughout my heart despite the chill of the day. “From the moment I saw you.”
He nodded.
“Aye. I ken the feeling. Ye came to me with such love, I couldna resist ye. I didna want to. Come. Let us go home.”