"Give me a moment more, Maggie. I am trying to figure this out."
Maggie was no longer willing to wait while men made decisions for her, so she called to the men in front of her.
"Who are you men, and why have you stopped us?"
Although he seemed to be completely ignoring her, Brodie squinted at Alex and then at her before responding. Her words were greeted by the others first with silence, and then whispered words that drifted through the still air to her.
Sassenach... Sassenach whore.
Sassenach? They thought she was English. But, whore?
"And, who is this?" His words were in a heavily-accented English as he grabbed Maggie's arm and turned her around. His eyes roamed her body, stopping at her breasts, her hips, and her thighs. The gleam in his eyes and the way he licked his lips told Maggie that this man thought he knew what she was.
"You havna gone and promised anything to this wench, have ye?"
Much to Maggie's dismay, she wasn't sure if she liked knowing what was being said, after all. She watched as Alex's face flushed red.
"Nay, I havna promised her anything but that she could come wi' me."
How could he so effortlessly pretend the warm tones that his voice now carried? How could he suddenly be speaking in this mix of Scots English and... Gaelic? And, damn it, what was this all about?
"Weel," Brodie said with a husky laugh, "Anice will be pleased to hear that." The rest of the men joined him in a hearty laugh. Brodie dropped her arm and walked over to Alex and roughly put his arm around Alex's shoulder. Leaning over close to Alex's ear and whispering loud enough for anyone within miles to hear, Brodie stared at Maggie as he continued, "Yer betrothed might no' be verra understanding about ye bringing' yer leman from England, though."
Maggie stared in shock as Brodie smacked Alex on the back in a blatant display of masculine approval and Alex hesitantly joined in with the laughter. These men were barbarians, that much was clear. But what was Alex's part in this?
Aggravated beyond control and probably past good judgment, Maggie walked away from the men and over to the pile of belongings she had dropped in panic only minutes ago. She picked up her bag and searched through it, making sure nothing was missing. She walked over to a nearby rock to sit and try to figure out what was happening.
This was getting stranger and stranger by the minute. Wait a minute—maybe this was one of those reenactment groups? That would make sense. Was Alex part of this, had he brought her in as part of their game? Or was he telling the truth when he said he was as foreign to this as she was? He had sounded sincere when he'd told her he didn't understand any of this. He kept giving her pleading glances over his shoulder from where he stood with the other men. Pleading for what? Her silence? For her to play along?
Maggie grabbed a length of ribbon from her bag and quickly pulled her wild hair into a ponytail. Then she realized it was too quiet. Looking over toward the horses, she saw that the men had all dismounted and were standing around Alex, but they were staring at her. Quickly, she tied her backpack and threw it over her shoulder. Then she met the louts' stares with one of her own—one perfected by years of practice as an elementary schoolteacher... and the most glaring look she could muster.
The man called Brodie loudly cleared his throat, getting the group's attention. "If Anice willna let ye keep her, I'll take her off yer hands, Alex. I like a woman wi' a little fire in her eyes." And then, the rest of the men laughed at his comment like a band of hyenas. Turning their back to her, they continued talking and laughing with Alex.
Leman? Brodie had called her a whore, that's what a leman was after all. Is that what they thought her part was? She should play Alex's mistress? She now had several things to straighten out with Alex as soon as she got him alone!
* * *
Her chance with Alex came a few minutes later when some of the group left. Alex approached her as she was searching through her bag.
"Maggie?" His voice, whisper soft, was almost without the new accent.
"What do you want?"
"Some of the men are riding ahead to tell the laird of our arrival. I think we'd better talk."
"The laird? Who would that be?" He opened his mouth to answer, but she interrupted first. "He called me your whore. Did you at least tell him that I will not even playact that role for any man?" Leman or whore, it wasn't nice to be called by either name, but she knew that the names were not quite the personal insult in times past as they were in her own time. This must be a game; there could not be any other explanation. Could there?
"No, I didna tell them. The laird is waiting for us in his castle. Apparently, I am the spitting image of the laird's son, whose name also happens to be Alesander. And, just as apparent to them, the laird's son is engaged to someone named Anice. The men jumped to their own conclusions about yer role in this."
"So, this is a reenactment group? You told me you didn't know what was going on."
"A reenactment group? What are ye speaking of now? I tell ye yet again that I am not part of this! I hae no' met these men before and don't know what they are speaking of, either." He dragged his hands through his hair again, shaking his head. For a moment, she saw a glimmer of vulnerability in his eyes, making her doubt her assessment of this situation and him.
Maggie knew that the complete craziness of this whole situation was getting to her. She shook her head in disbelief at this turn of events. From the look of things, and people, they were in a different time in history. If they were acting, they were good; these men didn't break character at all. They even smelled like warriors who spent too much time with horses and not enough time with soap and water. But she wasn't ready yet to accept any other possibility. After all, how else could this be explained?
"Alex, are you, are we, part of a reenactment here?"
"Maggie, I swear to ye, agin, I am not part of anything. 'Tis as I told ye when we met at the ruins, I came here for my clan's gathering. I hae never met any of these men afore this moment."
"And never spoken Gaelic, either?" She watched for his reaction.
"Nay, never that, either." God, he sounded sincere again. His eyes darkened as he stared at her, waiting for her reaction—her belief or disbelief. "I didna not have the Gaelic before I came here. I do not know it was going to come out until I opened my mouth."
He took her hand and pulled her closer. "We are in this together, ye and me. I do not want to say what I think haes happened to us or you will give me e'en stranger glances than the ones ye give me now."
"Tell me. Tell me what you think is going on here, because I am completely lost."
"I think ye should be asking me when is this happening."
"When? When? We already know the date. It's July 30, 2010."
"Do ye really think so, Maggie? Take a closer look around ye and at those men. They are no' players in a game. I fear they are real."
"Real? But that would mean..." Her hands started shaking and she couldn't take a breath. Oh God, she couldn't panic now. "Are you lying to me, Alex? Please, tell me the truth."
"There's no' a lot about this whole situation that I do understaun. All I know is that we're hundreds of years in the past—I do not know when exactly." He put his arm around her shoulders and held her tightly. She didn't resist. She needed to be in his arms, she felt safer in his arms.
Before she could say any more, Alex continued, "But we should probably play along until we find out the truth of the matter. Let's get our story straight now. They believe, or hae given me the opening to be the laird's son returned from England. Evidently he's been there for the last several years, so no one here haes seen him for a while." He paused and took a deep breath and let it out. "Maggie, until we can figure this out, I think we need to play along and keep up the pretense of ye being my leman. The truth will come out soon enough."
Shocked into silence, Maggie's mouth dropped open. Of all of the suggestions she thought Alex would make, this never entered her mind.
"Com
e on, think! I am afraid they are no' playing here. I think we may be in a verra dangerous situation... for real." He whispered harshly as he shook her by the shoulders. "If this is real, then they must believe ye are my mistress so that none of the men will try to harm ye. Ye will be under my protection. And this Anice willna even want to acknowledge yer presence here. 'Tis the safest way for us, for ye, until we can find out where and when this is."
"I must be crazier than you because I think..." she paused before uttering the words even she thought were outrageous, "you may be right. So, how do we explain how we met? How did our relationship happen? How did we get here?" She must be under stress—she was whining, she could hear it in her own voice. There were so many questions they still had no answers for.
"We can tell them that we met when I stayed wi' the king, 'tho which king, I do not know; it was in England and ye sound English. I was sick before I started for home and ye accompanied me. We were ambushed a few days ago and our horses and bags were stolen by the bandits. How does that sound to ye?"
Maggie stared into his clear blue eyes, completely amazed. The story was good. If this was a reenactment, the story would fit right in. And if it wasn't one, well, it might even work. Alex's voice took on more and more of a Scottish brogue and he seemed to be getting into the roles they were to play. Since medieval studies were part of her education, she knew he was right. As a leman to a laird's son, she was an unperson. If this was really happening, she'd have a good deal of freedom and could look for clues about what had happened to them. She wouldn't be his mistress, she'd just play at it. And, if it was an act, she... they would know soon enough.
Maggie grinned recklessly. In for penny, in for pound was what her grandmother would say. Playing it to the hilt, she tossed her long ponytail back over her shoulder and adjusted her bodice and breasts in a provocative move that caught the attention of all of the men still nearby.
"Well, sir, I think you're right about this leman thing," she whispered, in a low, husky voice. "You now have a mistress. Do with me what you will."
To add authenticity to the scene, she threw herself against him and pulled his face down to hers. With her mouth open, she gave him a kiss that left them both breathless and left their observers cheering. They parted, and Alex turned toward the warriors now mounting their horses. Before she could move away, Alex grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her up against his body. As she started to squirm, she felt his rock-hard arousal between them. He locked his arms around her waist.
"Two can play at this game, ye know. 'Twill be like Richard Gere in that old movie, having a woman at my beck and call." He wrapped her hair around his fist several times and forced her face to his. Mimicking the hot kiss she had given him, he molded her curves to his hardness. Their tongues touched and tasted until she heard them both moan. Her hands crept up his back and grabbed at the plaid tossed over his shoulder. Maggie stopped breathing. Unanticipated fire pulsed through her body. The heat inside expanded until she found herself lost in the unexpected passion and power of his kiss.
When the raucous shouts and cheers finally broke through the barrier made of their increasing desire, Alex released her abruptly. Trembling, she turned away and tried to put some distance between them. Laughing, he swatted her on her backside as she walked away.
"Remember, you're at my beck and call, wench!" The men clapped him on the back as he reached the group and made some remarks in Gaelic that were recognizable in any language.
She raised her hand to her cheek and felt the heat there. Caught and embarrassed by her own game, she walked briskly back to her bag to get ready to leave for the village. If he knew Gaelic, then he'd better teach her. Maybe that's how they could spend their nights, since nothing else would be going on between them. She felt the heat rise again in her face as she remembered the passion-filled kiss they had just shared. Well, learning Gaelic would be safer than kissing this Alex MacKendimen.
Chapter 5
Their next big challenge came a few minutes later from Brodie. He led forward a huge, gray and white stallion and motioned to Alex and Maggie.
"I sent Malcolm on ahead wi' news of yer arrival. Ye two can share this mount." Brodie gave the reins over to Alex, who was staring at the horse's back. It was taller than his own shoulders. Brodie called out some commands, and the rest of the group mounted up and gathered near them.
Maggie was stunned into silence. She had never ridden a horse in her life, and she had no idea if Alex could even get up on one. They had explained away many of the details, but this would be impossible. Chances were, if these men were warriors, they had learned to ride at almost the same time they learned to walk. Her mind was empty of any plausible excuses.
All at once, Alex grabbed the horn of the leather saddle and pulled himself up. Grinning a wicked smile, he leaned down and reached out a hand to her. He laughed out loud at the disbelief that must surely be showing on her face.
As he directed her, Maggie placed her foot on his and mounted behind him, unsuccessfully trying to keep her legs covered as she did. A few whistles and rumbles of laughter passed through the group as she finally got settled on the horse's back.
"Oh, ye of little faith," Alex said, as Brodie gave the signal to head for the village.
"Did you learn to ride a horse the same time you learned to speak another language?" Maggie asked sarcastically. The unknowns of this situation were wearing heavily on her mood. She didn't respond well to surprises, and it showed in the bitchiness in her voice.
"I do not think ye should use that tone of voice wi' me. I am yer lord and master now." Alex's voice reeked of his enjoyment of her uneasiness. "And, no, I learned to ride horses at my sister's farm in Swedesboro. I still havna figured out where the Gaelic comes from."
As Alex urged the horse forward, Maggie suddenly swayed and screamed. Alex pulled up on the reins to slow the horse's gait, and Maggie reached around his waist and locked her hands together. With her body pressed closely against his, she decided to drop the sarcasm for now. She needed more information about the place and time.
"So how far is this village we're traveling to? Do you know the name of it?" She spoke softly so that she couldn't be overheard by the men around them. Before he answered, she noticed that he somehow increased the horse's speed and they were moving more swiftly than before.
"It's called Dunnedin, and it's only about a mile away. Brodie said the laird is in the process of enlarging the keep wall and refortifying it." He spoke over his shoulder, keeping his eyes on the path ahead.
"Wait a minute. The ruins near the festival were called Dunnedin. Are these the same?"
"Their village might be near the ruins. This will be the thing that tells us if we've done the impossible... the unthinkable. If this is just a 'medieval day,' the village they speak of will be but a temporary gathering. If we arrive at a working castle, we will know how deep in trouble we are."
"And they think that you're the son of this current laird? What did they say the laird's name is?"
"Struan. My mother was Edana and my..." he paused and cleared his throat, "my betrothed is Anice MacNab."
"Whatever will your dearly beloved say about you bringing your mistress home to stay?" Damn, but the sarcasm came back so easily.
"Jealousy does not become ye, Maggie." He chuckled at her and her anger grew. At her angry gasp, he continued, "Besides, Brodie told me she's just turned fifteen."
"I'm not jealous, and could you slow down just a bit? I'm having trouble staying on this horse." She didn't know how he managed it, but the horse slowed a bit. "Did you say she's only fifteen?"
"And apparently she's been languishing at 'my' family's keep, waiting for my return from England. Brodie assures me that she'll want the wedding scheduled as soon as she meets you!" He laughed heartily at his own humor.
Maggie didn't react to his comment. From the few observations made and facts gathered, a part of her was now facing the possibility that they were indeed in medieval Scotland. An
other part of her couldn't believe that she was considering the situation rationally. That she and Alex could have traveled through time to Scotland's past!
She tried to think back to the medieval history courses. If Anice was fifteen and unmarried, she was probably not happy about it. And Alex bringing Maggie home with him, even if it was his right to do so, would make them instant enemies. She shifted her position, trying to make her inexperienced bottom more comfortable.
"Alex, we're going to have to watch our step. Do we have to get any other details straightened out between us before we get to the village and 'your father'? I'm getting very, very scared that this is real."
"I am also afraid that ye are right, Maggie, as impossible as it sounds. Do ye have any idea which king it would be in England? I canna remember anything my aunt has told me about the clan history, and I am not sure I can bluff about that."
"I would just refer to him as 'the king' and avoid specifics as much as possible. If I remember anything about Scottish history, it's that the few Scottish kings who went to England did not go of their own free choice. Brodie spoke of Anice languishing?"
"Aye. What has that got to do wi' anything?" His voice shook, and Maggie realized that he might be a tad nervous about this, after all.
"That means you have, I mean the real Alex has, been away for awhile. Some unfamiliarity will be expected. Just play along with everything. I'll try to feed you any information I get as we go. Do you have a watch on?" Alex raised his arm and started to reveal the watch on his wrist. She laid her hand on his arm before he could pull up his sleeve.
"No, don't uncover it. We'll have to keep anything that looks not of this time or place out of sight. I'll have to find a safe place to stash my bag. One other question, Alex."
"What?"
"Are you wearing underwear?" The horse came to an abrupt stop and Maggie tightened her hold. If a horse had brakes, they would have squealed.
A Love Through Time Page 4