A Love Through Time

by TERRI BRISBIN

  It wasn't until she started wiggling again that he realized his erection lay directly at the junction of her thighs. The thin linen of his tunic did nothing to hide her heat or wetness. His rock-hard maleness, deprived of feminine warmth for too long, had a mind of its own, it seemed, and Alex fought against it and her determination to keep him in intimate contact.

  Finally, a moment of cold clarity controlled his brain and Alex realized that he was lying on top of his scantily clad, fifteen-year-old fiancée! He jumped off her and ran to the other side of the room. Anice pushed up on her elbows, her unfairly enticing breasts jutting out against the nightgown and heaving with every deep breath she took. She started to get up from the bed and he whispered harshly, "If ye wish to protect yer life, Anice, do not move from that bed." She gasped and remained as still as a statue as he began to pace the room.

  "Would ye tell me what ye are doing here?"

  "We are betrothed, Alex." Her voice was husky, her arousal making her sound older than her years.

  "I know we are betrothed, Anice, but that does not explain what in the hell ye are doing in my room in the middle of the night."

  "I think that should be verra clear to ye, Alex. I've come to share yer bed."

  Now it was his turn to stand motionless in response. He waited for more of an explanation, but none came.

  "Anice, we're to be wed in a short time. Do not ye think it might be better to wait until our wedding night?"

  "But, Alex, I have waited for nigh unto five years for yer return. Do we have to wait any longer?" She stood next to the bed but continued to rub her hand lightly on the covering. "Or, is it that ye do not want me in yer bed?"

  Her eyes were wide and expectant as she waited for his acceptance or refusal. She was clearly too naive if she hadn't been able to tell how much his body had responded to her attempt at seduction. Maybe she had given him an opening he could use to get her out of his room before someone found them.

  "Anice, our marriage has been long planned by our families. 'Tis no' the time to take ye to my bed, even if we are betrothed." He paused for effect. "My heirs must be legitimate and I willna take any chances of them being born too soon after our joining. I will marry ye and honor ye and bed ye as my lawful wife, but Maggie is here for my pleasure."

  Her face froze and then her expression sagged. Tears formed and poured out of her eyes, rolling down her face. He cringed inwardly at her pain. He couldn't stand to see a woman cry. Her voice cracked as she spoke to him.

  "So, ye would bed yer leman but not yer betrothed?"

  "Aye, I would."

  Before she could respond, the door opened, and Maggie walked in. She looked around the room; her glance took in the silently sobbing Anice first, then him.

  "Pardon me, have I disturbed you?"

  "No, Maggie, Anice was just leaving." Alex looked at Anice and motioned, with his head, to the door. She bent over and grabbed her robe from the floor. Clutching it to her chest, she ran from the room. Her sobs could be heard as she made her way down the hall to her room.

  "My God, Alex, what did you do to her?"

  What had he done? The sinking feeling in his stomach told him he may have overplayed his hand with Anice. Alex ran his hands through his hair and grunted in self-disgust. He grabbed a length of plaid off one of the trunks and decided that now was as good a time as any to go for a swim in the very cold waters of the loch.

  Without meeting Maggie's stare, Alex replied through gritted teeth, "I didna do what ye may think or what she may have wanted. I was the one in control! And," he said as he took hold of the door handle, "she is no' the one I want." He met her eyes and the widening he saw told him that she got the message. Then he stormed into the hallway and pulled the door behind him. Anice's sobs followed him long after the echo of the slamming door had ceased.

  Chapter 26

  The sunlight piercing through the window wakened Maggie the next morning. Sliding her hand across the bed, she discovered that Alex was gone. She sat up and looked around the room to see if he had slept on the floor by the fire. The room was empty but for her. She slid off the bed and gathered her skirt and bodice from the trunks. Reaching into the skirt pocket, she took out her linen chemise and realized she had better find a new one soon. Her only undergarment had become worn and thin from the constant wearing and washing. She left on Alex's shirt and dressed quickly in the chilly room. After braiding her hair and wrapping it in a cloth, she was ready to break her fast and to begin her day in the kitchens.

  Break her fast! She was beginning to sound like these Scots in her thoughts now. Most of the servants in the kitchen had stopped snickering behind her back in Gaelic and started speaking in a Scots-English once the newness of the situation wore off. There were still a few men who pinched her behind or pulled at her breasts, but they didn't try it very often. Alex made his possession of her very clear in public and to touch her in his or his friends' sight would be a direct challenge. The cowards who still tormented her would never want to face the laird's son in a fight.

  The only time, she thought, that Alex did not proclaim his ownership of her was in the presence of Anice. They had agreed not to humiliate her in front of the clan since they would hopefully not be here forever, and she would. She would have to live out the embarrassment they caused while they were here in her time.

  Maggie walked through the hall on her way to the kitchens. The tables were in place and soldiers, servants, and some family members were starting to drift in to eat. She still couldn't face the porridge the cooks made for breakfast. She entered the kitchen, poured a mug of water, and took some bannocks from a large platter that was ready to be served. The bannock cakes reminded her of rice cakes, moister and heavier, but very definitely palatable. She finished her quick meal and started her duties.

  A few minutes later, one of Anice's serving women came into the room and asked the cook to have food delivered to Anice's room. At the cook's nod, Maggie began organizing a tray. The woman's voice rang out through the relative quiet in response.

  "Nay! I'll not have my lady's food touched by that whore. Odara, find another to prepare and deliver it now. The lady is waiting." Without waiting for an answer, the woman turned and left.

  Maggie came to a complete stop, her hand still extended to pick up a small loaf of bread. Even though she knew that she was not actually Alex's lover, the words sliced through her. The flush and heat of humiliation crept up to color her cheeks. She dropped her hands to her sides and lowered her head so that those in the kitchen couldn't see her tears.

  "Maggie," Odara called out to her, "let that be, and knead the loaves for me. The bread has done its rising." Maggie nodded and moved off, grateful for something to do.

  After she picked up one of the mounds of dough and started to work it on the table's surface, Odara pointed at one of the other girls who took up the task of serving Anice's breakfast. Soon, the normal hubbub of the kitchen began to cover the awkward silence. Maggie only looked up when she heard Rachelle's voice.

  Rachelle stood close by and pulled a lump of dough toward her. Rachelle had been the one to give Maggie the errand last night. In the light of day, Maggie could see that it was part of Anice's ploy to get her out of Alex's room last night. What had happened between Alex and Anice? Could he have made love to her? Did they argue? She had to find him and ask him.

  "So, did ye and Alex have a wee bit of a fight?" Rachelle whispered.

  "A fight? Us? No. What makes you think that?"

  "Weel, the whole keep could hear the slamming of the door in the middle of the night. Then, Alex made enough noise wi' his cursing and his leavin' the hall to wake up those few who have not heard the door."

  Maggie's mouth dropped open wider and wider with each sentence Rachelle uttered.

  "Then, he came back soaked from the loch and slept wi' the men in the barracks. Now, are ye really trying to tell me ye do not have a fight?"

  Maggie closed her mouth and swallowed. To all outward appearan
ces, it must seem as though they had a whopper of a fight. But, Maggie couldn't reveal what or who she had found with Alex. An argument was an easier excuse... and Alex had been angry when he left the room last night.

  "Weel, mayhap a wee one." She imitated Rachelle's brogue and Rachelle laughed. "Things canna go smoothly all the time, ye know." When they were kneading the loaves again, Maggie nudged Rachelle's elbow. "How did you find out about it? You don't sleep in the hall."

  Rachelle's blush would have been an answer by itself. But her words confirmed it. "Brodie told me this morn."

  "Oh, no. Are all the men talking about it?"

  "Maggie, I am sure not all the men know. But the warriors all sleep in the barracks so they heard of it."

  "That means that the entire village will hear of it by noon."

  "Oh, Maggie, do not worry. They will probably not know of it... until the evening meal." Rachelle laughed right in her shocked face.

  "Rachelle. Maggie. The bread would get done faster if ye would knead as much as ye blabber." Odara's voice was what she needed to get back to her task.

  Well, she thought, now she and Alex had to talk themselves out of another corner.

  * * *

  It was mid-morning when the summons came. Maggie was to answer the lady Anice's call to the solar. Maggie had hoped that this morning's insult would have been the end of it, but she was wrong. Odara's eyes were filled with sympathy, but she could do nothing to interfere. The lady's word was law, second only to the laird and his son's.

  Maggie washed her hands and face with water from the stone basin in the corner of the kitchen and retied the scarf around her head. She had not yet been in the solar, but she knew where it was. The hall was empty but for a few servants when she made her way through it. She paused at the door of the women's room and knocked lightly. The door swung inwardly, and she was called into the chamber.

  "Is it her?" Anice's icy voice came from the far side of the room. The door's direction blocked her from Maggie's view.

  "Yes, milady." The servant turned to look at her mistress.

  "Let her in, Iseabel, and close the door."

  The young girl waved her in and pointed to Anice who was seated with a group of women near the windows. As Maggie walked toward the women, she realized that the windows were real glass, the first she had seen in the keep. As a result of the glass, the solar was a sun-filled room and one where the ladies of the clan gathered to sew and weave and embroider. Maggie stopped a few paces away from the industrious group. In addition to Anice, she recognized a woman of about forty who she knew to be Alex's aunt Gunna and another who was Anice's elder cousin Wynda. Standing off to Anice's left side was Firtha, Anice's personal maid, the woman who had insulted her in the kitchen and in her room.

  Gunna opened the conversation abruptly.

  "Are ye noble born?" Gunna squinted at Maggie as she barked out her question in a high, whiny voice.

  "No," Maggie stuttered.

  "Then ye had better learn yer manners here and now." Gunna nodded at Firtha who walked over and took Maggie's shoulders in a hard grip and forced her to her knees before the others. "That's the place for someone of yer position—on yer knees afore yer betters. And ye had best address those higher than ye as 'milady' if ye want to keep yer teeth."

  Gunna smiled smugly and leaned over her embroidery frame and continued adding stitches as if nothing had happened. Firtha went back to stand beside Anice. Her smile foretold that this was the beginning of a long visit to the solar for Maggie.

  Maggie stubbornly refused to cower before these medieval witches and started to struggle up to her feet, twisting the scarf that had come loose in her hands.

  "Stay there, as ye are," hissed Firtha. The maid stepped toward her, hand raised, and Maggie dropped back to her knees. "My lady has not given ye permission to rise, ye filthy whore."

  "Now, Firtha," Anice said in a syrupy-sweet voice that dripped with malice, "this Sassenach does not know our ways. I am certain that she'll learn quickly to know her place, or she'll be leaving Dunnedin verra soon."

  "Sooner than she thinks," chimed in Wynda. The other women joined Anice in an apparent private joke that left Maggie with a queasy feeling in her gut. She clenched her teeth, trying not to lash out in anger—an anger that would have been unacceptable in this day and age. Where the hell was Alex when she needed him?

  "If ye continue to displease our laird's son as ye did last even, ye will be gone afore our wedding takes place." Anice leaned forward and looked Maggie directly in the eyes, daring her to reveal the truth they both knew. "It would be a shame since I was beginning to look forward to correctin' yer insulting ways myself. After I marry Alex, yer place will be in the village wi' the other sluts, who service the men in our clan and our visitors. That is the best place for a Sassenach whore, is it not?"

  Maggie flinched at the venom in her words. The whole group laughed at her reaction. It was as if Anice was telling amusing stories instead of threatening someone's life! She thought that young unmarried women of this era never discussed things like whores or sex or whatever. Where were the virginal maidens she had read about?

  Anice rose from her chair and handed her sewing to her maid. She inched her way over to where Maggie knelt and motioned her to her feet. When Maggie stood and Anice was close enough so that no one else could be privy to her words, she whispered under her breath, "If ye ever breathe a word of what happened last night, I'll find a way to kill ye." Maggie started to back away, but Anice grabbed at her arm, ripping her sleeve, to keep her close. "And nothing the laird or Alex says or does will stop me."

  Maggie yanked her arm away and stumbled to the door. The maid standing nearby didn't move as Maggie grabbed the knob and pulled it open. As she ran across the room, Maggie heard Gunna's irritating voice: "Ye canna teach a whore the manners of a lady, Anice."

  But it was Anice's shrieking laughter that scared her the most.

  Chapter 27

  Whoosh! Crack! Whoosh! Crack! The long wooden staffs met and reverberated with each blow given and received by the two iron-muscled warriors opposing each other.

  "Harder. Harder!" yelled Alex, forcing his voice over the cheers of the onlookers to this fight. "Faster. Move yer feet, Braden. He's going to knock ye over again if ye don't start moving."

  Alex paced around the fighters, calling out instructions as he coached both men.

  "Iain, I canna help ye if ye do not listen to me. Lean in, shift yer weight. Watch out for yer legs."

  Alex threw his hand over his eyes in frustration as he watched Braden finally follow his commands and upend Iain in the dirt. The other soldiers and servants, who had gravitated out to watch the fight, cheered loudly for the winner or commiserated with the loser.

  Alex sat down on the ground with the two warriors. All three were drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. As the throng drifted away, Alex reviewed the fighters' strategies and made suggestions for the next time. He stood and was dusting himself off when he caught sight of Maggie running out the gate and into the woods. She was too far to hear him, so he didn't yell. He mumbled excuses to the two men, grabbed his tunic off the nearby fence, and trotted after her. When he approached the gate, the guard smiled knowingly and pointed in the direction of Maggie's path.

  He had a feeling she was headed for the loch, so he slowed to a walk to catch his breath. Thank God he'd been in decent physical shape when he arrived here, or he would be dead by now from the training. After just a few weeks, he knew his upper body was much stronger from all the practice and drilling with the large two-handed claymore. The running and swimming had added to the strength in his legs, too. His body was changing, just as his voice and accent had already.

  He also decided to let his hair and beard grow and both of the women in his life had responded favorably. Maggie said he looked like the barbarian he was becoming. But it was the inflection and throatiness in her voice that made it clear she found it and him attractive. Anice just blushed and stamme
red when he asked if she liked his beard.

  It was getting hard to believe that a few short weeks ago, he had worked behind a desk, crunching numbers for clients in his stable, well-ordered life. Now he was a different person, freed from constraints, stronger, and more self-reliant. Unfortunately, he was living over six hundred years in the past. He laughed at the absurdity of this twist of fate and time.

  The choking sobs traveled through the quiet glen to him and alerted him that Maggie was close by. He stopped and listened and then jogged in the direction of her crying. He broke into the clearing and spied her sitting on a boulder by the end of the lake. Her hair, freed from her braid, tumbled around her face and over her shoulders. Her face was hidden by her hands, and she rocked ever so slightly as she wept. He approached her quietly and spoke softly, trying not to frighten her.

  "Maggie? What has happened to ye?"

  She started at the sound of his voice, barely moving her hands to see who had followed her. He opened his arms to her, offering the comfort she needed desperately. She didn't hesitate to scramble off the rock and dash into his arms. He wrapped his arms around her, and unconsciously imitated her earlier rocking to and fro. Her crying intensified, and he swallowed deeply to get rid of the lump in his throat.

  Maggie was strong and resourceful. She was an equal to him in their efforts to survive and find a way home. It took a tremendous amount of stress for her to reach the point of weeping. He'd only seen it twice before—on the day they arrived and when they tried to get through the arch. He needed to discover what had driven her to this state, and he had a strong suspicion that the cause's name was Anice.

  "Maggie, love," he murmured, stroking her hair and pushing it away from her face. "Do not greet, Maggie. Tell me what happened." He continued their rocking, holding her close and wrapping his arms more tightly around her.

  "You don't understand, Alex. It's not supposed to be this way." She hiccupped as she drew a deep breath into her lungs. She leaned her head back to look into his eyes, revealing that her eyes were tear-swollen and her nose was running.