by Willa Blair
Latharn took a deep breath as he rose from his knees to clutch Nessa by the shoulders. Searching her face for some kind of explanation for her reasoning, Latharn struggled to keep from shouting in her face. “Why? I’ve waited forever to be with ye. Ye say ye love me and yet ye willna agree to be my wife? Give me one good reason why ye will not join with me! Help me to understand why ye cast me aside, Nessa.”
Nessa’s hands fluttered upon his chest as she tried to explain. “I know you’ve been in my dreams since I was barely eighteen. But you never spoke to me. We never talked to each other. Don’t you think it would be better if we waited a few months and got to know each other before we do something as serious as getting married?”
“Get to know each other better?” Latharn roared. Releasing Nessa’s shoulders, Latharn whirled to stomp about the room. Had she gone mad? Was he going to have to lock her in the bedroom until she’d listen to reason? “We will have plenty of time to get to know each other once we’re man and wife.”
He stormed about the room as though he were a caged animal. Latharn’s frustration crackled like electricity in the air. “If we were wed in the year 1410, we might not have even met until our wedding day.”
Nessa shouted to be heard above the rising wind and rumbling thunder rattling the parlor windows. “This isn’t the year 1410 and I’m not going to marry someone first and get to know them later. I grew up in a household where my parents hated each other before they died and they dated for years before they married. Neither of them would give in and ask the other for a divorce. Their marriage turned into some sort of sick contest to see which one of them could make the other more miserable.”
Latharn stopped his pacing and grabbed Trish by the arm. He pulled her across the room until she stood nose to nose with Nessa. Jerking his head toward Nessa, he looked at Trish and pleaded, “Would ye be so kind as to talk some sense into her head? There is no reasoning with this woman. Tell her that she and I are not going to end up like her miserable parents. Those two misbegotten human beings wouldn’t know what love was if it bit them on the arse.”
Before Trish could speak, Nessa pushed around her; she locked on Latharn with a challenging glare. “You’ve proven my point, you see? Any time we don’t agree, then I’m the one who’s being unreasonable. Did it ever occur to you to try to understand what I’m saying? Don’t you realize how much the world has changed since 1410?”
Latharn clenched his fists and ground his teeth in frustration. He stood silent as every fiber of his being raged. He’d never imagined she’d refuse him; he never dreamed she’d deny their bond. “I would ask that ye spend six hundred years imprisoned, locked away from all ye’ve ever known and loved. I would ask ye to watch while the one ye love is held by another and there’s nothing ye can do but close your eyes and try to block the memory that’s seared upon your mind.”
His breath ragged, heart hammering, Latharn took a step closer. He yanked Nessa into his arms and his voice dropped to a pain-filled whisper as he searched her face. “Nay. I’ve loved ye for an eternity, so I could never ask ye to suffer such a fate. All I ask of ye now is that ye love me, and I plead with ye to be my wife.”
“Handfasting!” Fiona shouted from across the room. “Pledge your love for a year and a day, turn to the auld ways to settle this discord.”
Brodie shook his head as he pulled Fiona closer, his voice hushed with disappointment. “Handfasting is no longer legal in Scotland. They abolished the ritual a few years ago.”
Fiona pulled away from Brodie and grabbed Latharn and Nessa by each of their arms. “What does it matter what the laws of today say? Ye will perform the rite at midnight in the light of the full moon, before the Auld One to witness. Then if after the allotted time of a year and a day, ye should find the match was ill-advised, each of ye can go your separate ways, with no legal ties to bind ye. But if ye find your love has grown even stronger, then ye can bind yourselves with a ceremony sanctified by man.”
Latharn still held Nessa crushed to his chest. His voice a hoarse whisper, the pain in his eyes begged her to listen to the possibilities the solution held. “Would ye be willing to do this, my love? What Fiona suggests?” He held his breath, waiting for Nessa’s answer.
Latharn’s heart pounded against Nessa’s chest as he waited for her reply. With a sudden jolt of clarity, she gasped when she realized his heart pumped in complete sync with her own. It was a sign. Although she’d never been a believer in such things, a lot had happened over the past few weeks to turn her mind around. The synchronized beating of both their hearts convinced her they were already one.
“Yes,” she whispered into his chest. “We’ll start out with a year and a day.” His warm chest rumbled beneath her cheek, the beat of his heart hammered a bit faster. “But I’ve got a sneaking suspicion we’ll end up being together quite a bit longer.”
With a shaking breath, Latharn lowered his head and sought her mouth with his. Raising his head, he glanced back in the direction of the bedroom, with a meaningful glint in his eye.
“Oh, no you don’t! I need to get some clothes out of there. You two can just cool it for a little while.” Trish smacked her hand on Latharn’s shoulder and pulled Nessa into a hug of her own.
Brodie clapped Latharn on the back as Fiona scurried back into the kitchen praising the saints in the heavens. “Thank the heavens I married a woman who never knows when to keep quiet. Fiona always speaks her mind.”
Latharn agreed as he grasped Brodie’s arm. “Aye, cousin. I was beginning to fear my chance at a future was about to become another curse.”
A smug look on her face as she returned through the swinging kitchen doors, Fiona passed out tumblers of scotch to toast the joining of the two. “I think we should all go out to dinner tonight to celebrate the couple’s happy decision.”
Nessa curled her toes as she whiffed the strong spirits. Eying Latharn over the rim of her glass, the reality of his bare-chested attire suddenly struck her. “First, I think we’d better concentrate on getting Latharn a wardrobe that will help him blend into this century.”
With the drink tray balanced on one hip, Fiona turned, her eyes skimming over Latharn’s muscular chest barely covered with his plaid. “Aye. Ye’re right. The problem is that Brodie’s not as large as Cousin Latharn and canna even loan him anything to wear to the shops.”
Brodie circled Latharn and looked him up and down. “One of Da’s kilts might fit him. We might even still have one of his tunics in one of the chests in the attic. Da was a mountain of a man as well, although he wasna nearly so tall.”
Crossing his arms over his chest, Latharn yawned in apparent boredom with the current conversation. He sported a mischievous grin as he slowly spun around. “How is this?” he asked, spreading his hands wide. Latharn had clad his body in a skintight black T-shirt, a crotch-hugging pair of designer jeans, and a pair of fine Italian leather boots.
Trish whistled at the way Latharn filled said jeans and nudged Nessa in the ribs. “I can’t believe you came out of that bedroom at all. Who needs food with that around?”
Brodie cleared his throat and coughed a bit. “Ye might want to choose something a bit more conservative when we go out tonight to dine. At least something that doesna make the rest of us look quite so dumpy. Eh, give us a break, Cousin?”
With a grin at Brodie’s irritation, Latharn once more waved his hands. His clothing changed to a less fitted fisherman’s sweater and a pair of crisp khaki pants.
Nessa pinpointed Latharn’s problem. Her lust engines kicked into overdrive as he paraded around the room. No matter the style of dress Latharn chose, it was a certainty he was going to turn heads. He exuded power, pure unadulterated strength, and an undeniable charm. He was the type of man women followed with their eyes, then plotted to find a way to meet. And he belonged to her.
“Go back to the jeans. Nessa and I really liked the jeans,” Trish instructed with a decisive nod.
“Trish! He’s not a Barbie do
ll,” Nessa retorted, elbowing her friend in the ribs.
“Well, he’s damn sure no Ken.” Trish cast a ribald wink at Nessa as she tossed down the rest of her scotch.
“Do ye always have this effect on women?” Brodie heaved a great sigh as he steered Latharn toward the outer door.
“How do ye think I ended up in that ball?” Latharn replied with a jerk of his head.
Chapter Twenty-Three
All the people who mattered gathered around the table. Her friends and future family surrounded her. Finally betrothed to the man of her dreams, Nessa sighed with contentment. Life just didn’t get any better than this. She’d been drawn to Scotland, some would say obsessed, for the better part of her life. Now she knew why. The land of her heart and the birthplace of her love, she’d been drawn here because she belonged. She’d never dreamed she’d ever be this happy.
With a disappointed jolt, Nessa decided her happiness was too tempting for the demons of discord to ignore. Their icy fingers tightened around her throat as trouble walked through the door. Nessa elbowed Trish and nodded to the archway where the hostess chatted to none other than Gabriel Burns. Cowering at his side trembled a mere slip of a woman stealing glances about the room.
“Just ignore him, Nessa. Maybe he won’t see you,” Trish instructed under her breath. Trish smiled and talked behind her glass as Latharn cast a curious glance at her and Nessa in the middle of his conversation with Brodie. No sooner had the words left Trish’s lips then Nessa heard Gabriel’s voice boom across the room.
“Nessa! Trish! It’s good to see ye. Ye’ve not been back to the pub in ages.” Gabriel ignored the meek woman scurrying behind him and headed straight for their table.
Latharn dropped his conversation to Brodie and rested a possessive hand across Nessa’s wrist. His eyes narrowed to piercing slits as he honed in on his prey.
“Hello, Gabriel.” Attempting to keep her tone as cool as possible, Nessa forced her politest smile across her face. Surely, he’d take the hint and leave. No one could be that dense. “Who’s your friend?” Nessa leaned around and softened her smile in the direction of the quiet woman’s downcast face. Her heart went out to Gabriel’s latest victim.
Gabriel’s eyes never left Nessa’s face as he shrugged a shoulder in the woman’s direction. “Oh, that’s just Maery. We’re old friends, she and I. Maery, this is Nessa Buchanan.”
A shadow of a smile flickered across Maery’s face and she ducked her head to each person at the table. She held her chin slightly tucked, as though afraid to speak. Nessa clenched her hands in her lap. Poor Maery. Nessa knew exactly why.
Latharn rose, flexing his muscles to ensure Gabriel received the full effect. He looked at Maery with one of his warmest smiles and bent his head in her direction.
“’Tis good to meet ye, Maery. My name is Latharn MacKay. I am Nessa’s betrothed.”
“Betrothed?” Gabriel spit out the word as though it tasted bad in his mouth. “Did you just say you are Nessa’s betrothed?”
“I did. Nessa and I are to be joined upon the next full moon. She has gifted me with the rest of her life. A gift I am most grateful to accept. I will also be most happy to accept your congratulations.” With a triumphant leer, Latharn waited, as if praying for Gabriel to make a stupid move. Latharn’s hands clenched, and Nessa reached out and touched his arm, afraid of what ran through her beloved’s mind.
Gabriel’s face purpled; his lips trembled as he shook beneath Latharn’s stare. Gabriel flexed his fists, swallowed hard, and with a jerk, finally extended his hand. With a curt nod of his head, he growled his words through gritted teeth. “Then I must congratulate ye, Latharn MacKay. It would seem the MacKays always get the finest women in the end.”
Latharn held off long enough for everyone at the table to start shifting in their seats. Then he reached out and crushed Gabriel’s hand in his own, squeezing his own unspoken fury into his grasp. “Thank ye. Now if ye’ll excuse us, we’ll be getting back to our private celebration. Don’t let us keep ye from your own plans.”
Gabriel’s face darkened further at the obvious dismissal. He bared his teeth in a parody of a smile. He grabbed Maery’s arm and spun on his heel, but not before looking Nessa square in the eye. “Good luck to ye, Nessa. If ye should ever need me, ye know where I can be found. I promise ye, I willna forget what could’ve been between the two of us, you and I.”
His words laced with unspoken meaning, Gabriel pulled the stumbling Maery from the room. Nessa shivered, rubbing the tingling skin at the back of her neck as Gabriel stormed out between the tables.
“There is a darkness about that one.” Latharn leaned closer to Brodie. “Did ye notice? Can ye sense it?”
Brodie’s hand tightened around his glass. “I’ve always sensed evil around that one.”
“No.” Latharn shook his head. “Now ye’re feeling your hatred. Ye must concentrate, Brodie, and listen with your senses not your rage.”
Nessa flinched as Gabriel’s roar and slamming doors echoed from the outer cloakroom. Chill bumps rippled down her spine.
“You didn’t have to provoke him,” Nessa scolded as Latharn settled back into his chair. She didn’t like all this talk about darkness or evil. All she knew for certain was Gabriel was a jerk. “Now poor Maery will catch the brunt of his anger. It’s pretty obvious she’s been abused by him before.”
Latharn shrugged and picked up his knife, slicing into his steak with an unconcerned nod in the direction they’d left. “The meek lass will be safe. If he touches her in anger, his heart will constrict within his chest.”
“You’re gonna make him die of a heart attack?” Trish leaned forward in avid interest. She tapped her wineglass, eyes wide as she awaited Latharn’s reply.
Latharn shook his head, brandishing his fork in the air before he brought a bit of steak to his lips. “Nay. He willna die. But he’ll think he’s about to meet his maker if he touches her in anger.”
Brodie leaned forward, his voice lowered to a whisper as he glanced about the room. “Can ye teach me any of these fine tricks of yours? Or has all the magic been bred out of our DNA and lost with modern civilization?”
Latharn looked at Brodie with just the hint of a smile. “The magic is in all of the MacKays, Brodie. It lies dormant, just waiting to be found. ’Tis our legacy. A gift from my parent’s union, and a blessing from the goddess Brid. Ye have but to learn to connect with the energies of the universe to watch the mysteries unfold.”
Fiona squirmed to the edge of her seat and laid a hand on her waist. “Are ye saying all the MacKays will be gifted with powers passed down from the mists of time?”
With a knowing wink, Latharn answered, “Aye, Fiona. Your twins will also be blessed with all the gifts running through the bloodline of our clan.” He lifted his glass and sipped.
“Our twins! Fiona?” Brodie stared at his wife and dropped his fork to the table.
“Aye, Brodie. I’ve been trying to find the right time to tell ye. Things have been in such an uproar of late. I wanted to wait to give ye the news at the perfect time. But even I didn’t know I was carrying twins. I just knew I was carrying our child.” Fiona giggled as Brodie swept her into his arms, laughing as he spun her around the table.
Nessa laughed and clapped her hands. “That’s wonderful! Then this is a double celebration. I wondered why you toasted us with water earlier and tonight you weren’t drinking any wine.” Twins. Gabriel’s poison left her mind, wiped away by Brodie and Fiona’s happy news.
“This day just keeps getting better,” Trish added with a smile. “Things are finally falling into place and I’m proud to say...it’s about damn well time!”
Brodie pounded the table in complete agreement. “The MacKay castle will soon be filled with little MacKays running about the halls.”
“Aye,” Latharn agreed, pulling Nessa into his arms. “Ye had best be thinking of a few names yourself,” he whispered next to her ear.
Trish’s jaw dropped as she r
ead Latharn’s lips. “Are you saying you want Nessa to get pregnant or is this something you already know has happened?”
Latharn rubbed his jaw, gazing off across the restaurant. “I’ve had six hundred years to hone my skills. Ye would be surprised at what I’m able to do.”
Nessa almost choked. Her hands flew to her stomach as she realized she hadn’t refilled her birth control pills. But she couldn’t be pregnant already. She had been taking them for years.
Her gaze swiveled to Latharn’s knowing look and her heart nearly stopped as the smile widened upon his face. “Are you serious? Are you telling me I’m already pregnant?” Nessa had never dreamed of having children. What would she do if she was pregnant?
“Ye don’t carry my child just yet. But if the future plays out as I have seen it, we will be blessed with many gifted bairns.” Latharn almost hummed in satisfaction as he held out a glass of ice water to her to help her manage the rising knot in her throat.
“I…I cannot be a mother. I’ve n-never been around children. I won’t know what t-to do,” Nessa stammered as the hysteria sucked the air out of her lungs. She didn’t like not being in control. Then his words took root just as she’d taken a sip of the water and she almost spewed the mouthful over everyone at the table. “And just how many gifted bairns are we talking about here? And how close together?”
Latharn’s jubilant expression slowly faded from his face. “I fail to understand why ye are no excited about the possibilities the future holds. I am one of triplets. Multiple births run in the MacKay family. Brodie himself is a twin.”
Trish leaned closer, rubbed Nessa’s shoulder, and gave her a reassuring smile. “It’s going to be all right, Nessa. You’ll be fine. You told me you’ve been in love with Latharn since he appeared when you were eighteen years old. Didn’t you ever dream about having his baby any of those times you sat around with that dazed look on your face?”