The MacLomain Series: A New Beginning Boxed Set (Books 1-4)

by Purington, Sky

  Discomforted by his cousin’s astute assessment and blunt advice, Graham gave no response. He had been so busy trying to save the MacLauchlin’s, he had given little thought to the bigger picture. Yet all aside, true love could not be forced. It did not just conveniently happen.

  His eyes flickered between Conall and Lindsay. It might have been a bit of a slippery slope, but it had happened rather quickly for them, hadn’t it? And though Milly and Adlin had been fated, their love was damn instant as well.

  “There is another Broun lass,” Graham remarked, not really sure why he said it. “Jessie.”

  “Aye,” Conall replied, humor in his internal voice. “Fated, it seems, to be with a dragon.”

  “Or me,” Graham countered.

  Conall chuckled and shook his head. It might be good to see his cousin returned to a bit of his old humor but still.

  “Why do ye laugh?”

  “Because ‘tis good to see ye dealing with denial now, as I get to nudge ye in a direction ye dinnae see so clearly,” he said. “When ‘twas so verra recently ye took great pleasure in doing the same to me.”

  “Och, nay, ‘twas never like that.” Though it was. “Ye and Lindsay were obviously smitten.”

  “Aye,” Conall agreed. “So said ye and I’m grateful for it.” Mischievousness colored his words. “Might I readily return the favor.”

  Graham narrowed his eyes, not missing what his cousin meant by that. Conall offered no further comment just a small smile as they arrived at a clearing surrounded by dense shrubs and trees. Grass and pine needles were to be their bedding.

  “’Twill not be a comfortable night for any of us,” Grant said as he sat. “I wouldnae recommend a fire or even hunting right now. Not until we’re able to get a better lay of the land in the light of day.”

  “Aw, we can handle this, can’t we?” Lindsay smiled reassuringly at Grant as she removed her cloak and handed it to him. “You, however, are going to at least use this, okay?”

  It was clear Grant knew better than to argue with her as he nodded. “I’ll only accept this because I know my grandson will keep you warm.”

  “That’s right,” Lindsay said as she sat down beside Conall.

  Graham, in the meantime, found himself in a rather awkward position. It made sense based on their pretense of being together that he lay beside Christina, but what about Kenna? She knew that they were pretending, but regardless, it seemed strange. Uncomfortable. While love didn’t exist between them, she would soon be his wife.

  Conall, true to his word, seemed to be enjoying himself immensely as his eyes went from Graham to Kenna and then to Christina as they all stood there trying to figure out their next move. In fact, it appeared he intended to become as ruthless as Bryce.

  “It seems you’re tasked to warm two lasses this eve, Cousin.” Conall’s tone was comically dire. “Mayhap if you just lie down, they will too.”

  “Conall,” Lindsay chastised, though there was a grin in her voice as they curled up together. “Be nice. That’s my friend you’re talking about and goodness, sharing her man would be above and beyond what’s asked of most of us time traveling gals.”

  “Actually.” Christina stretched, flinched and looked at Graham. “My back’s been off since the whole random-arrow-almost-hit-your-mother thing.” She shook her head, woeful. “So I’m gonna need to sleep a certain way I’m afraid.” She sat carefully, as though wounded, with her back to a tree and her legs crossed in front of her as she gestured at Conall and Kenna. “Please, keep each other warm.”

  She yawned, rested her head back against the tree, closed her eyes and never said another word. It seemed Lindsay wasn’t the only actress around here. Technically, if this farce was working he should be beside Christina, no questions asked.

  Instead, he would be joining the lass he was actually with.

  Things were backward. Or were they? How had his cousin managed to turn this all around? Because he had. Based on his muffled chuckle, Conall clearly followed his thoughts. Graham scowled and ignored him.

  Though it was truly an unseasonably nice night, he was troubled by Christina being alone as he sat and urged Kenna to join him. They did not touch but lay down beside each other. It wasn’t the first time they had done such a thing. She was his friend. A good friend at that.

  Yet he felt guilty and wasn’t entirely sure why. Christina never opened her eyes that he knew of. But then he dozed off faster than anticipated. Almost as if it were out of his hands. The next thing he knew dawn teased his eyelids and his magic alerted him to trouble.

  Something was terribly off.

  So off that his eyes shot open and locked on Christina.

  More so, the man leaning over her.

  Blade in hand, Graham roared with rage as he ripped the man away, slammed him back against another tree and pressed a dagger against his windpipe. It only took ten or so swords pointed directly at his head and the stern words, “Unhand the King or be hanged for treason,” to finally get through.

  What he saw as his infuriated haze cleared was fairly damning.

  It appeared he was moments away from killing none other than King Robert the Bruce.

  Chapter Seven

  20 June 1314

  Bannockburn, Scotland

  CHRISTINA WASN’T SURE what caught her more by surprise. Waking up to a strange man leaning over her or seeing Graham with so many swords aimed at him.

  “No,” she managed to croak as she stumbled to her feet. “Don’t. Please.” She shook her head. “He was just trying to defend me. I swear.” When her eyes met the man whose neck was threatened by Graham’s dagger all she could manage was a breathy, “Please.”

  She knew him. Better yet, she had dreamt about him less than forty-eight hours ago. He was older now but just as handsome. Battle hardened in a surprisingly alluring way. Seconds later, his identity was confirmed. When it was, she leaned back against the tree, not so sure her legs were going to hold her up.

  He was Robert the Bruce, the infamous King of Scotland.

  Yet he was more.

  “Stand down men,” Robert eventually said softly, his eyes never leaving Christina. “Graham MacLomain is a friend, not foe.”

  The blades pulled away as Graham removed his dagger, fell to a knee and lowered his head. “My apologies, King Robert. I was caught unaware from the depth of slumber. I didnae realize who ye were.”

  Robert’s eyes lingered on Christina’s for another moment before he rubbed his neck and gestured for Graham to stand. “All’s well. Get up, lad.” His eyes went to Grant, and he nodded before they landed on Lindsay, and the corner of his mouth inched up. “Och, lass, ye dinnae look like ye’ve aged a day. Yer as bonnie as ever.”

  “Well, that’s because it’s only been a few days for me.” She closed the distance and embraced him. “It’s so good to see you again, m’dear.”

  Christina remained stunned and dumbfounded as she tried to process everything. As the past few days, including her dream and what happened at Mystery Hill, seemed to manifest right in front of her.

  Where in her dream he wore simple trousers and a tunic, now he also had on chainmail, a cloak and carried a fair amount of weapons.

  Lindsay finally pulled back and held Robert at arm’s length as she looked him over. “I must say, you’ve aged astonishingly well.” She flashed a wide smile. “Ten extra years looks fabulous on you, darling.”

  Christina might be all sorts of shocked, but she couldn’t stop a small grin. Leave it to Lindsay to make an uncomfortable, awkward moment feel like a cozy family reunion.

  “It really has only been a few days for ye, hasn’t it?” Robert said, amazed as he touched Lindsay’s cheek then his eyes went to Conall and Grant. “Look at all of ye. Just as I last remember ye.” Then his eyes returned to Christina as he pulled away from Lindsay. “And ye...Christina, aye?”

  “That’s right,” she whispered, nodding before she managed to find her voice. “Nice to finally meet you in person,
honey.”

  Oh, God save her. Had she just called Robert the Bruce honey?

  A grin tugged at his lips as he stopped in front of her, his eyes never leaving hers. “Nice to finally meet ye as well, Christina. I have been waiting a long time.”

  Christina wasn’t sure what to make of this. Him. More than that, her reaction to him. Because it was strong. Not quite lust but definite interest. She wanted to get to know him better...right?

  She blinked against the odd sensation of confusion.

  Moments later it vanished as he offered his elbow. “Walk with me, lass?”

  She glanced at everyone else, who like her, seemed a little mystified by the whole situation. All except Graham who frowned yet nodded for her to go. Strangely comforted by his approval, she slipped her arm through Robert’s. She was safe enough, and they would all be right behind them. As she and Robert walked, they didn’t say anything at first, just sort of watched each other out of the corner of their eyes.

  “This is very bizarre, isn’t it?” she said softly, hoping his men wouldn’t hear them. Men who remained close on all sides. “Surreal almost.”

  “Aye.” He nodded. “’Tis almost dreamlike, is it not?”

  “My thoughts exactly.” Christina warmed beneath his easy regard. “While one part of me knows I should be super nervous because you are who you are...” She shrugged. “Another part feels like I’ve known you my whole life. Like everything that’s happened led me to this very moment.”

  “I couldnae agree more, lass,” he replied. “’Tis uncanny, aye? As if we were meant to be.”

  “Yeah,” she whispered, then caught herself and shook her head. “I mean, it’s definitely intense though I can’t really speak to anything being meant to be...us that is.”

  Robert nodded. “I dinnae blame ye for being apprehensive.” He shook his head. “The way we first met was strange enough now this...” He made a loose gesture at the woodland around them. “Days before battling. ‘Tis not the best time to woo a lass, never mind one the likes of ye.”

  “Well, thanks.” Christina couldn’t stop a small grin. “But again, you don’t have to...” She shook her head, searching for the right words. “What I mean is wooing isn’t necessary because I’m not really in the market for a man.”

  “Nay?” A mischievous glint lit his eyes. “Why do I get the feeling ye dinnae truly believe yer own words?”

  Christina shrugged, bereft of a witty comeback. What she needed to do was remember to play her part, so she shook her head. “It seems I’m meant for another, sweetie.”

  He frowned. “Another sweetie?”

  “No.” She chuckled. “I mean yes. I’m meant for another sweetie, but I had been calling you sweetie not him.”

  “Why would ye call me that if yer meant for another?” His curious blue eyes stayed with hers. “Because is sweetie not a term of endearment?”

  Way to be technical. She smiled to herself. And savvy.

  “You know Grant and his clan. Even Lindsay and Milly. You have history with all of them.” She cocked her head. “Which means you must also know about the infamous MacLomain, Broun connection, right?”

  “Right,” he confirmed, not batting a lash, his gaze undaunted and tender.

  “Well, what you might not know is that I’m a Broun,” she informed.

  “I figured ye must be.” He considered her. “So yer determined to be with a MacLomain then, aye?” The corner of his mouth curled up, and a twinkle lit his eyes in direct contradiction to his next words. “Do ye mean to tell me there isnae hope for us? That the connection we made meant nothing?”

  “I didn’t quite say that.” Though she pretty much had. Yet as she eyed him she realized she didn’t entirely mean it. “I value the connection we made, Robert.” Did she ever. So much so words kept rolling out of her mouth. Strange words a smidge stronger than she actually felt. Words that were supposed to have stayed between her and Graham. “As I’m meant to, I’ve got to be with Graham...” She leaned closer and whispered, “As far as everyone knows that is.”

  She clenched her teeth, not sure why she said that. It almost felt like she was cheating on Graham which she wasn’t. Not at all. He would be marrying someone else. They were just putting on a show. That’s it. Nothing more.

  “So we are to court in private then?” Robert considered that and shrugged. “’Tis probably for the best with all my soldiers about.”

  Christina nodded because that seemed like the logical thing to do. The fact she had seemingly just agreed to have a private affair with Robert the Bruce had not really computed yet. Something else did though.

  “You know I did a bit of research on you back home,” she led out, cursing how callous that might sound considering he was long dead when she did the research.

  “And?” he prompted with a grin when she trailed off. “What did ye discover?”

  All things considered, she appreciated his lighthearted manner. It kept her at ease and her tongue loose. “As you can imagine, a lot of things.” She winked. “You’re pretty famous in these parts, sweetheart.” Then she pointed out the rhetorical elephant in the room. “You’re also pretty married and have been for some time.” She arched her brows. “Since before we first met, actually.”

  His eyebrows slammed together in confusion. “Nay, ye are mistaken, lass.”

  “Is she?” Grant asked as he joined them. “Because I have been wondering.”

  “Wondering what?” Robert looked at him. “If I was married when last we met?” He gestured at Christina, his eyes never leaving Grant’s. “Do ye think I would have been so determined to be with her had I been?”

  “We both know you were under the influence of a warlock at the time,” Grant reminded. “So your behavior could not be judged correctly.”

  “Och, judged!” Robert shook his head. “Something ye clearly did nevertheless, aye, old friend?”

  Grant stood up a little straighter but did not back down. “According to history, you’re married, King Robert and have been since our Lord’s year, thirteen hundred and two.”

  Robert stopped short and turned wide eyes Grant’s way. “So yer saying I’ve been married for twelve winters?” He shook his head. “’Tis impossible. I have only ever been married to Isabella of Mar, daughter of Domhnall I, Earl of Mar and Elena, daughter of Llywelyn ap Gruffudd.” He clenched his jaw. “Isabella died before I was crowned.” He kept shaking his head. “There hasnae been another since her.”

  “But there has been,” Grant said softly. “And ‘tis verra concerning that it hasnae happened as it should have.”

  Robert crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes. “Who do ye think I married then?”

  “Does it really matter if ye have no knowledge of it anyway?” Grant countered.

  “Aye,” Robert said. “I would like to know who should have become my wife.”

  Grant sighed. “Her name is Elizabeth de Burgh.”

  “Elizabeth de Burgh?” Robert’s eyes narrowed further. “’Twas talk of a connection betwixt us years ago. She would have been a fitting match at the time.”

  “Aye,” Grant agreed. “Considering she’s the daughter of such a powerful Irish noble. Richard Óg de Burgh, Second Earl of Ulster.” His brows edged up. “A close friend and ally, I believe, to Edward I of England at one time.” Disgust flashed in his eyes. “May Longshanks forever rot in hell where he belongs. ‘Tis good Scotland has been rid of him for seven winters now.”

  “Aye, now we’ve got to deal with Edward of Caernarfon,” Robert muttered. “’Twill be good to cut down his garrison soon.”

  Christina frowned. “Who’s Edward of Caernarfon?”

  “Longshank’s fourth son, Edward II,” Grant said absently, still eying Robert, his expression hard to pinpoint. A mix of curiosity and concern. “He still holds your daughter, Princess Marjorie captive, aye? Isabella’s daughter?”

  “Aye,” Robert confirmed. “’Twas rumored Longshanks was going to confine her t
o a cage in the Tower of London but instead sent her to a convent at Watton in Yorkshire.” He scowled fiercely. “The poor wee lassie.”

  “That’s awful. I’m so sorry.” Christina frowned. “How long has she been gone for?”

  “She was taken at nine winters old,” he murmured. “So neigh on eight winters now.”

  “Dear Lord,” Christina said softly, unable to imagine what the poor child had gone through.

  “If all goes as planned during this battle,” he said. “I will be able to take some verra important people hostage to barter for her safe return.”

  “’Tis a sound plan,” Grant murmured, a heavy frown on his face.

  Robert eyed Grant with curiosity. “Is it then?”

  Grant shook his head. “Ye’ll not get anything out of me about the upcoming battle, so dinnae bother asking.”

  Robert only chuckled, the look on his face confident that he would eventually find out all he needed to know.

  It wasn’t long before a vast encampment appeared through the trees. Christina slowed then stopped, her eyes wide as she took it all in. From the blue and white Scottish flags blowing in the wind to the endless men, horses, tents, and campfires not to mention weapons. Lots and lots of those.

  Robert and Grant stopped as well, then everyone else. They must have realized that this was all finally hitting her. Where she was and what was happening.

  “Darling, why don’t you sit,” Lindsay said softly, “and take a moment to gather yourself.”

  “No, it’s okay,” Christina murmured, staring at everything for a stretch before she shook her head. “I’m okay.”

  “Aye?” Graham asked. “’Tis a lot. ‘Twould be understandable if ye need to take some time.”

  “Time?” She snorted. “I think taking time or swoonin’ at the sight of so many warriors is the last thing I should be doing.” Christina forced a chuckle and tried to look calmer than she felt as she met Graham's eyes. “I’m all right, sugar. Don’t you worry.”