Join A Highlander: A Scottish Time Travel Romance-A Highlander Across Time Book 4

by Preston, Rebecca

  Don't be ridiculous, she told herself later as she was settling into bed, still buzzing pleasantly from the nice evening she'd shared with her new friends. None of any of that was any kind of date… he was just a new friend, a potential future colleague. Someone she was getting to know in the interests of tracking down her prey… and possibly offering her own insight and expertise in the service of keeping the area safe from the bandit plague they were experiencing. Purely professional, that was all.

  But as the days wore on, she had to admit she was getting to like the time she spent with Kieran. He seemed to be warming up to her, too, albeit slowly – the huge, soft-spoken man didn't say much, but the more time she spent with him, the more he seemed willing to share his thoughts. They'd talk for long stretches, but she enjoyed the silences between them, too. At her request, he started showing her the basics of sword fighting, too, and they'd spend long hours in the courtyard. For all his stubbornness, he was a patient teacher, and she appreciated the care he took to explain every step of the process.

  "Takes a long time to learn to fight," was all he'd say when she expressed any frustration with her slow process. "Better to learn it slow and right than fast and wrong."

  And she'd be lying if she said the warmth she felt in her chest when he spoke to her was strictly platonic. He was gorgeous, and gentle, and exactly her type… and he seemed to enjoy her company. Of course, she was going to get a little bit fluttery about him. Whether he felt the same was a separate question, one she couldn't quite bring herself to consider, but Carissa certainly had more than a few questions as the days went by and she spent more and more time with Kieran out in the courtyard.

  "Well?" Carissa asked finally.

  It had been almost a week since the attack from the bandits, and though Kieran had seen to it that the guard on the walls had been increased, there had been no further attacks. Not on the castle that was… news came in every day from the village and its surrounds of bandit attacks on travelers, as well as on farms and homesteads across the island. Kieran hadn't gone out on any long trips since that first one, tending to remain in and around the castle, but it was clear to anyone who knew him how worried he was.

  "Well what?" Sarah's mind had been on the blisters on her hands. It seemed learning to fight with a sword included a considerable component of what Kieran quietly referred to as 'conditioning' but Sarah was beginning to suspect was just plain torture. Rubbing oil into them at night helped a little, but not much.

  "Well, what's happening with you and Kieran?"

  "Nothing," she said sharply, feeling a blush rise to her cheeks before she could stop it. "Well – not nothing. We're friends. We're becoming friends."

  "Kieran doesn't have friends. He's too quiet." Carissa's eyes were gleaming. "You two are an item."

  "We are not." She narrowed her eyes. "I'm just making friends with the captain of the guard so I can maybe make myself useful at some point in my adult life. If I'm going to be stuck here, I want to do something useful with myself."

  "Like marry the Captain?"

  "Carissa!" She glanced around them, worried that they'd be overheard by a gossipy servant and that word would somehow make its way back to Kieran. "I don't even know if he feels that way about me –"

  "But you feel that way about him, right?"

  "I didn't say that."

  Carissa was cackling, her eyes gleaming as she clasped her hands together in front of her. "You didn't have to say it. If you didn't feel that way about him, that's what you'd have said. Not that you weren't sure how he felt. You wouldn't care how he felt if you didn't feel –"

  "Fine, fine, just keep your voice down, would you?" Exasperated, she leaned forward. "He's handsome, okay? He's a huge burly Scottish warrior, of course I'm into it. But that doesn't mean it's got any kind of future."

  "It also doesn't mean it doesn't have any kind of future," she said with a broad grin dancing across her pretty face.

  But Sarah's expression must have cowed her because she shut her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath.

  "But if you'd prefer, I'll stop bothering you about it."

  "I would prefer."

  True to her word, Carissa changed the subject immediately, chattering instead about her suspicions about the gender of her baby – Hugh, it seemed, was convinced they were having a girl, but she felt in her bones that it was going to be a boy. As far as Sarah was concerned, they may as well toss a coin for all the good that this kind of conjecture would do in guessing the sex of the child… but Carissa, like so many of the castle folk, was superstitious when it came to things like that, and she didn't want to start another argument about magic, so she just smiled along.

  Magic. She just couldn't come around to magic, no matter how hard she tried. She'd come around to the fact that she was in the medieval era – it had taken her a little while, but she'd ended up accepting that. It would have been ridiculous to deny it at this point, with all the evidence mounting up before her eyes. But being brought here by magic? She just couldn't accept that. There was no evidence for magic, no proof – only conjecture.

  And conjecture, she thought grimly, wasn't helping her track down Damon DeBeers any faster.

  Chapter 13

  Her mind hadn't left her target, even though she'd given off the appearance of having left that particular subject well alone. He was always on her mind, whenever she spoke to Kieran about the bandit gangs in the area, whenever she listened to gossip brought back from the village. She was on high alert, listening to any clues that might point to a tall, charismatic Englishman taking up residence anywhere nearby… or, as she suspected would be a lot more likely, joining the gangs of roving bandits.

  But to her frustration, the trail was dead cold. No new information was coming to light about DeBeers, no news. Her mind raced constantly, chewing on what little data she had, coming up with idea after idea of where he could be by now. Why, if he'd traveled quickly he could have made it all the way back to London by now, surely. Or he could be as close as the village, or the surrounding areas, hiding out. Or he could have died that first night. Or he could be injured somewhere, holed up waiting for the heat to die down. Or…

  She was beginning to suspect it wasn't healthy, the extent to which she was obsessing over DeBeers. It was just the injustice of the thing… the idea that he might actually get away with his crimes, that he was out there somewhere, celebrating and laughing while the people he'd hurt continued to suffer… or at least, they did in the future. None of them had technically been born yet, of course. But just because they'd traveled back in time, didn't mean DeBeers was safe from the consequences of his actions. Harm had still been done, and Sarah was determined to get to the bottom of it despite the formidable opposition that stood in her way.

  A week after her tentative friendship with Kieran had started, she came to him, nervous but determined to bring up the subject of DeBeers. She'd been careful not to mention him to Kieran, trying to focus on getting to know him as a friend without making him suspicious that she was only befriending him in order to be allowed to go off chasing her murdering diamond thief… but the trail was going colder and colder day by day, and she knew she couldn't wait any longer. She'd never forgive herself if she missed a chance at capturing him just because she was too busy trying to avoid upsetting Kieran.

  They were meeting in the courtyard this time, an afternoon of sword fighting lessons ahead of them. Kieran had been out on patrol all morning, and when she found him in the courtyard he was looking exhausted and defeated, though he still managed a small smile when he saw her. She tilted her head, curious about how his morning had treated him.

  "You look run down."

  "Do I? Another fruitless morning's search, I'm afraid." He sighed heavily. "A merchant's cart was found overturned, its contents ransacked. Many of them were essentials, things that the village has been running out of. This is beginning to take more of a toll on the villagers than I'm happy with." He sighed again. "And what's wors
e, the merchant who owned the cart is nowhere to be found. That was what took up most of my morning."

  "I'm sorry," she said gently. "I hope he turns up."

  "Aye, me too." He shook himself, hoisting a slightly forced-looking smile onto his face as he lifted the practice sword the two of them had been sparring with. "Now, where were we up to?"

  She didn't want to bring up DeBeers so close to such a demoralizing morning, so she let a few minutes pass as they sparred, their bodies warming up in the gentle afternoon sunlight. They caught a few curious looks from passersby, as they always did. At first, she'd thought it had something to do with a man teaching a woman to fight – but what she found out eventually was that they were more interested in her age. A woman in her thirties who was as clumsy as a child with a sword… it was unusual around these parts, it seemed, where women were generally taught the basics of self-defense. That had surprised her. Some details of the castle were a lot more progressive than she'd have expected.

  "You mentioned you wanted to talk to me about something?" Kieran said after half an hour or so, glancing over to her. He was barely breathing hard – she, by contrast, was soaked in sweat and struggling to catch her breath. Curse him and his good memory. She'd been planning this conversation since last night – and he'd clearly remembered her mentioning it.

  "Yeah. It's about – well, the bandits, in part." She put her hands on her hips, trying to catch her breath before she continued, ignoring the amused way he raised an eyebrow at her. "And my old friend DeBeers."

  "Is that so?" The coolness in his voice should have been a warning… but she'd come this far. She plunged on, reckless.

  "I really think you should let me join the search. I know DeBeers – I know how he thinks, how he acts. If he hasn't already joined up with a bandit group, it'll only be a matter of time until he does… and when he does, he's going to be even more dangerous. I can help you find him."

  But Kieran was already shaking his head, and she felt anger burning in her when she realized how quickly he'd shut her down. "No, Sarah. It's far too dangerous. You can barely defend yourself –"

  "So, go with me," she said impatiently. "I'm not asking to go out by myself – I'm asking you to go with me. We can find this guy together."

  "No, Sarah. Final answer." He folded his arms across his chest, his expression intimidating… and she ground her teeth, feeling anger flare in her chest. She should have known this would happen. Why had she believed that getting to know him a little better would change his mind – his stupid, stubborn mind? To avoid any further confrontation, she handed the sword back, stiffly informing him that she was too tired to continue – then she stalked back to the castle, dusty and exhausted, and fuming.

  She was angry with DeBeers, for being allowed to run. Angry with this whole stupid country in fact. She was angry with Kieran, for telling her no – but most of all, she was angry with herself for believing that he might see reason if only she was nice enough. Nice didn't get results. She'd have to find another way.

  She skipped dinner that night, choosing instead to take some bread rolls from the kitchen up to her room to eat. There would be questions from her friends the next day, of course, but she wasn't going to think about that right now. She needed time and space to herself to think, to plan. It had been two full weeks of being a good girl, doing what she was told, staying in the castle and patiently waiting to get permission to do what was right. But it was becoming clear that she was never going to receive permission. Better to ask forgiveness than permission, wasn't that what people always said? Well, as angry as she felt right now, she didn't really want either.

  She chewed on the bread rolls as she sat in bed, stewing. The obvious next step was to just go after DeBeers herself. Yes, it would be dangerous – it would be a lot safer to go with Kieran at her side, for example. But that option wasn't available to her, now was it? Cold anger burned low in her chest as she thought of how quick he'd been to dismiss her. He'd listened so thoughtfully to her contributions about the situation, answered her questions… it was funny, she'd almost believed that he actually respected her as a detective. But it was clear that he didn't. This was something she was going to have to do by herself.

  By the end of the evening, she had a plan… and though her dreams were dark and disturbing, haunted by DeBeers wielding various blades and laughing sinisterly, she woke still resolved to carry out her plan. Over the next few days, she worked tirelessly to gather the supplies she needed. First, a set of clothes that would help her blend in among the villagers – she got those by raiding the laundry room, where piles of clothes were waiting to be washed. She found a set that were more or less her size and washed them herself by hand, hanging them up to dry in the wardrobe in her room where nobody was likely to stumble upon them. She felt a little guilty for stealing, but she made a quiet resolution to return the clothes once she was done with them.

  If she made it back to the castle, of course.

  Getting hold of a decent weapon was a little harder. She ended up raiding the guard house one afternoon, visiting under the pretense of seeing Kieran for her sword fighting lessons – even though she knew he'd left the castle on another bandit-hunting mission and wouldn't be back until the following day. Still, the guards had gotten used to seeing her around, and didn't look twice when she wandered into the armory. It was easy enough to conceal a long blade under her skirts, and she carried it triumphantly back to her room to add to her growing collection.

  She realized she'd need supplies, especially if she intended to ride out across the island in search of DeBeers. It was easy enough to take some well-preserved food from the kitchen – she wandered in a few times asking for something she could tuck into her pocket to snack on during her sword fighting lessons, and a couple of the cooks were more than happy to equip her with a collection of dried meat and some hard bread that they explained was hard tack, the kind the guards took on their longer expeditions. They even offered her a waterskin, something that hadn't even occurred to her to take – she accepted it gratefully, feeling a twinge of guilt at misleading the kindly kitchen staff. She'd repay them by catching that jewel thief, she promised herself to allay the guilt, carrying the supplies up to her room again, where she was tucking them away in a satchel she'd found in the wardrobe in her room.

  The last thing that occurred to her was rope – she'd need something to tie DeBeers up with, because she sure as hell wasn't letting him get away this time. There didn't seem to be any around the castle… in the end, she had to head down to the docks, where she liberated a few coils from a little fishing vessel that didn't seem to be manned at the moment. She was almost caught in her thieving by a couple of guards headed down to the docks, but she was able to hide the ropes in her voluminous skirts just in time, and headed back up to the castle murmuring a thankful prayer to whoever had had the bright idea of making women's clothes big enough to hide an army in.

  Her escape kit was complete… now, of course, the problem was actually leaving. Days crept by, the satchel sitting safe and sound in her wardrobe as she debated what the best course of action was. Leave in bad weather? In good weather? During the day, or under cover of darkness? Should she steal a horse, or just go on foot to avoid detection? The truth was part of her wasn't sure whether she should go at all. She'd be breaking a serious promise to Maria, who had shown her nothing but kindness since she'd gotten here… and another part of her, deep and secret, was worried about what it would do to her relationship with Kieran. Could she really break his trust like this? He wouldn't want anything to do with her once he found out what she'd done.

  And she was beginning to worry that that wasn't a price she was willing to pay.

  Chapter 14

  In the end, it was bad weather that stopped her. The day she'd decided to go, one way or another, dawned gray and overcast… but there was a thick, damp humidity to the air that was unfamiliar with her. Old women exchanged meaningful glances in the dining hall, comparing their aches an
d pains and concluding that a summer storm was on its way. And sure enough, by midday, the sky had opened, drenching the castle with a battering of rain so thick and heavy that Sarah was honestly worried about the roof caving in.

  Kieran stomped in just after lunch, absolutely dripping wet and looking distinctly unhappy with the weather. She hid a smile as she went to greet him, feeling an odd relief that she hadn't left the castle yet – she'd stashed her satchel away again, still at the ready, but with weather like this she knew she wouldn't be leaving for quite some time. He smiled down at her, looking exhausted and drenched, but still pleased to see her.

  "Got caught in the rain, did you?"

  "What gave you that idea?" he asked drily, rain dripping from the tip of his nose.

  "Suppose we won't be training today."

  "I'd rather not work underwater, no." He chuckled. "But I'd be glad if you'd meet me for lunch." There was a thoughtful gleam in his eye. "Come to the guardhouse?"

  This was the first time he'd suggested something like that… and a shiver ran down her spine. They'd always eaten together in the dining hall. Why was he inviting her somewhere else? But she agreed, heading into the kitchen to collect some food for the two of them to share while Kieran headed off to his quarters to change his soaking clothes. Half an hour later, the two of them met in the guardhouse.

  "It's quiet," she observed, looking around. There were usually at least a few guards waiting around in this common area, but today the whole place was empty. "Where is everyone?"

  "On patrol or inside for lunch," Kieran said, offering her a seat beside him at one of the tables. She set down the food she'd brought, feeling a tingle run down her spine at his proximity. They'd been spending time alone together, but always within view of someone else… they hadn't been properly, privately alone since the night of the fire in the hall outside her room, the night when they'd apologized to each other. The start of their friendship… and, she thought as she reflected on that night, the start of something more… at least, in her it had been. For all that Kieran had been opening up to her more and more as the days passed, she still couldn't get any kind of read on how he actually felt about her.