Kaitlyn and the Highlander

by Diana Knightley

  Lady Mairead had been sitting on the couch. She asked, “Twas a storm, like ours?”

  Magnus said, “Aye, much like it. From nocht, accompanied with lightning and great gusts of wind.”

  “This means he has found it — in time he will decipher how tae use it.” Lady Mairead swept up the stairs to the upper floors with her nurse following her.

  Magnus turned off all the light switches, easily I might add. “Mistress Kaitlyn, pray join Chef Zach in the larder.” At the wall controls he activated the window screens, then stepped out to the back deck. The last thing I saw before I settled below the counter was Magnus, his kilt flapping in the breeze of a coming storm, speaking with his security team on the back porch. They were checking the sky.

  The house wasn't dark, because it was afternoon, but I marveled how the house and so many people had gone completely still and hidden.

  Zach reached up and carefully, quietly, clicked off his sauce simmering on the stovetop.

  All told, we stayed hidden for about five minutes. Then Magnus quietly opened the sliding door. He appeared in the kitchen a moment later, and offered his hand to help me stand. “Many apologies, Mistress Kaitlyn, for causing ye worry. Tis all clear. I must ascend tae Lady Mairead's rooms for a moment. Pray Chef Zach, continue cooking, just nae music for a time.”

  Zach chuckled. “Yes sir, I'll keep it down.” He stood and helped Emma up and they both turned on lights and the oven. Zach wiped his hands again, set the stove temperature back to simmering, and returned to his baking as Magnus climbed the stairs.

  I took a seat on the barstool at the kitchen island and watched Zach and Emma resume their baking, nonchalant, and seemingly unworried.

  “What was that about?” I whispered.

  Zach said, “We're not sure. The man that Lady Mairead was married to is looking for her. That's all we know. Magnus ran us through some drills the first day and,” he grinned at Emma. “I think we were fuckin' perfect. Like these pastry puffs.”

  Emma stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. Chef Zach was tall and wiry, about six foot six and a hundred and sixty pounds wet.

  I asked, “Her husband is coming by storm?”

  Zack shrugged. “I think it's more like an omen, but hey, believe what you want.”

  “I'm sorry about this. If I had known about the danger I wouldn't have put your name forward for the job.”

  Zach said, “Are you kidding me? This is the best fuckin' job I've ever had. I cook literally anything I want all day long, and Magnus acts like it's the best thing he's ever tasted. Emma and I go shopping and buy whatever looks good, cook enough for eight people, and basically hang out all day with each other, listening to music and watching tv. The occasional lights-out-drill isn't going to send me packing.”

  Emma said, “Lady Mairead is quiet, doesn't talk much, but seems to like our food and doesn't care either way what we do, but Magnus is so nice. Just like the nicest guy. Do you like him Katie?”

  I looked up the stairs where he had gone. “We're just friends.”

  Zach asked, “Will you be staying to dinner? I'm making pasta. Get this, Magnus said he isn't familiar with Italian food, isn't that crazy?”

  Suddenly our attention was drawn to the top of the stairs and hushed, arguing voices. Magnus and Lady Mairead were discussing something, heatedly.

  “Nae, you canna return Magnus, I winna allow for it.”

  Magnus said, “I must, I need tae fight this battle there, rather than here. What would you hae me do, nest as a field mouse in a log while he is a hawk, circling, about tae dive down—”

  “Twas dangerous traveling here, but we find ourselves in this place. We must make do. When the time comes we will take it, but now is nae the time.”

  “I can kill him. Let me return. I beg of you, Mairead. I should hae done with this, allow me.”

  “Nae, tis my answer. You hae sworn tae uphold my word, and I say, nae. Tis a command, ye understand?”

  “Aye.”

  A few minutes later Magnus entered the kitchen, shaking his head and muttering. Distracted, he asked, “Pray, what meal hae ye prepared tonight, Chef Zach?”

  “Italian food.”

  “Och aye, tis what ye explained this morn.” He perched on a barstool beside me. “Mistress Kaitlyn, have ye eaten the cuisine of Italy? Chef Zach has assur'd me tis delicious.”

  Zach stifled a laugh.

  “I have had Italian, it's one of my favorites. But Magnus, I know I keep asking this, is it safe? This is all really scary. You're talking about bad omens and we're all hiding in the kitchen…”

  “Nocht will happen. We were nae followed, and my guard is on the walls. I promise tis safe.” He glanced back up the stairs.

  We went out on the deck to wait for dinner. Magnus assured me that the boardwalk would be safe, and when I looked back at the house a security guard was standing on an upper deck. We walked out halfway to the sand dunes.

  “It's such a beautiful stretch of dunes here, Do you come here often?” I asked.

  “I ride here every day, but I daena walk much.”

  “If I lived here, I would sit on these dunes for hours every day. And then I'd hunt shark teeth for a couple hours — I guess what I'm saying is I would pretty much live out here.” I grinned at him. “How did you get the horse by the way?”

  He sighed. “Tis nae really mine. Madame Debbie is loaning him tae me. She explains that I daena hae permission tae keep it, so tis a matter of time afore the officials will require I relinquish him. There are a great many inscrutable rules.”

  “Yes, there are. Not a lot of horses.”

  “I am of a mind tae ignore them.” He smiled. “And tis a braw horse by the name of Sunny. A name which fits his disposition, so I daena walk verra often.”

  I leaned my forearms on the railing and spotted a small turtle very near the neighbor's walkway about thirty feet away. It was traveling toward the beach. I pointed it out to Magnus. “It's one of the reasons we built these boardwalks to protect the dunes for the animals.”

  “For the turtles — you hae gone tae all this effort?”

  “Well, not me, specifically, but yes. All along here — this is sea grass. It's so pretty, isn't it, blowing and bending in the breeze? It looks light and airy and only decorative, but the truth is it has roots that grow down into the dunes. The grasses hold the dunes in place, protecting them from the wind and water, and if the dunes are in place then the whole island stays in place. So we protect the sea grass.”

  Magnus nodded slowly. “You know much of this land.”

  “I grew up here. I moved away, but I came back.” I pushed my shoes off, kicked them to the side, and wiggled my toes happy to have them off. “I came back to get some solid ground under my feet, but there's not a lot about Amelia Island that's solid ground. It's all sand shifting, marsh ebbing and flowing, ocean rising and falling, and wind blowing.”

  “There is also a great deal of torrential rain.”

  “Well, you, sir, are visiting during one of our wettest months. It seems like a storm every other day.”

  “When the storm clouds part though, tis beautiful. In Scotland we hae a word, turadh, a break in the clouds.”

  I tried to say it. “Turad?”

  He smiled and said it again. “Turadh. Exactly. In Scotland though, we hae far fewer breaks in our clouds.”

  “So it's gray there?” I turned to lean my back against the rail. From the corner of my eye his shirt was pulled tight across his shoulders, a curl of his hair fluttering a bit on his cheek in the wind. Our shoulders had been almost touching, and now I regretted turning and making the gap between our arms wider. “That would be hard on me, I grew up in sunny Florida and lived for a while in sunnier California. I like a bright blue sky overhead.”

  “You would nae like it much then, tis verra dreich weather.”

  “What does dreek mean?”

  “Tis Gaelic for miserable weather. In Scotland tis dreich and terrible because ye must wan
der about in it anyway.”

  The light was changing. The sunset dropping behind the house, a luminous pink, a bright blue overhead, meeting deep black from the edge of the ocean. Black pushing against blue pushing against pink. Sea grass bowed toward the sunsetting sky. Security stood watch at the end of the deck, and Magnus, big, still, secure, and warm as the breeze, leaning on the railing, a smile at the edge of his mouth, his jawline within kissing distance. “Do ye see this sky Mistress Kaitlyn? Tis as if the sun is pulling a blanket of stars over your land.”

  “Over your land and your house.”

  He chuckled, but seemed as if there was a hint of sadness to it. “I hae only borrowed the land, the house, the time, tis nae truly mine.”

  “It hasn't been mine for a long while either, I was living in Los Angles, until just a couple of weeks ago.”

  “And where is this Los Angeles?”

  I searched his expression for a sign that he was joking, but his eyes were serious. “It's in California. The west coast. One of the biggest cities in the world. Where movies are made?”

  Magnus nodded. “Och aye, of course, Los Angeles.”

  We were quiet for a moment, watching the sky as the light met dark and battled for supremacy in the middle.

  Magnus asked, “What happened tae ye, Mistress Kaitlyn?”

  I laughed a bit. “You saw the video, right? Quentin and James showed you?”

  “Aye, they hae shewed me, but they shewed me much that needed further explanations. I hae grown used to your teachings, and would consider it a great favor for ye tae give me the history of it.”

  “You know... I don't really want to talk about it?”

  “Tis your prerogative, I winna do ye a disservice and press further on the subject.”

  “Good.”

  But he had already seen it. He was forming opinions on it with or without my explanations. I sighed. “Are we friends?”

  “Aye, we hae shared a beer and a laugh.”

  “If I show you the video, you might…” Tears welled up a bit. I was able to blink them back, but couldn't trust myself to keep talking. I took a couple of deep breaths.

  “Might what?”

  “Think I'm awful. Terrible. An old vengeful hag or something.”

  “How auld do ye take me for, Mistress Kaitlyn?”

  “I don't know, same as me, twenty-three or so?”

  “Twenty-one. I suppose a grown man of twenty-one might yet know how tae wipe his ass and where tae relieve himself in a civilized manner, yet I found myself in a cruel predicament just a few days back. Twas a woman, much like ye'self, that shewed me how tae perform those duties, and she did it with much good humor and grace, without any malice. I would wish tae repay her with the same good faith and humor if she found herself in need of my opinion.”

  I screwed my face up considering. “You promise? You won't think I'm terrible?”

  “Nae, and I hae already seen the story.”

  “Okay, fine, but after dinner.”

  Thirteen

  The smells of Zach's sauce wafted around us as Magnus sat between Lady Mairead and I at one end of their new extremely long dining room table. As Zach and Emma placed the plates in front of us, Magnus stared hungrily at his. “As usual, the history of this meal, please Chef Zach?”

  Zach chuckled. “It's pretty scandalous, Magnus, sir.”

  “I've an appetite for scandalous histories.” Magnus winked at me. “How about ye'self Lady Mairead?”

  She said, “Tis good tae hear the misfortunes and scandals of another. Will make our own seem comparatively small, and we might learn something as well through our blushes.”

  Magnus tucked his napkin into the top of his shirt and motioned for Zach to get on with it. “We are ready.”

  Emma giggled. “I told you he would make you say it, Zach.”

  Zach said, “The story goes that in Naples, Italy, brothels would cook this very robust and fragrant sauce to entice the Italian gentleman inside to partake of their, um, services. The men would do their business and get a bonus of hearty pasta to energize them after, the taste and smell would um, cover the taste and smell. Thus in some circles, Puttanesca is referred to as whore sauce.”

  Magnus boomed with laughter. “Ah, tis truly scandalous.”

  Lady Mairead smiled. “And I hae learned a new art, spices as a cover for intrigue.”

  “It should serve ye well in your contrivances.” Magnus grinned mischievously and ate with enthusiasm.

  Zach and Emma sat at the opposite end of the table after shuttling plates of food out to the deck for the security men. And a plate upstairs for the nurse.

  Magnus asked for double helpings, twice. Zach or Emma jumped to retrieve the platters from the kitchen to serve it. He complimented and thanked and wanted us all to agree. “Tis delicious! Do you like it Mistress Kaitlyn?”

  “One of my favorites.”

  “Good, good. Lady Mairead, do ye like the meal our Chef Zach has cooked?”

  “I do, verra much.”

  Magnus called across the table to the kitchen where Zach and Emma, having finished their dinner, were washing dishes. “Chef Zach, best meal so far, well done.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Magnus patted his flat stomach. “I am much satiated. We should retire tae the grand room, Mistress Kaitlyn has promised tae shew a — what is the phrasing?”

  “A video. But in front of everyone?”

  Magnus asked, “Chef Zach, hae ye seen the video of Mistress Kaitlyn?”

  Zach met my eyes for a second. “Um, I have. That guy was a total pribbling ill-bred maggot-mouth.” He grinned at Magnus, who smiled widely. “Magnus has asked me to take up more creative cursing than my usual f-bombs.”

  Magnus headed to the living room, settling in the big chair he slept in that first night. “See, ye are among friends. Lady Mairead, would ye like tae see the video of Mistress Kaitlyn's downfall?”

  Lady Mairead sat on the couch and smoothed her skirts. “I hae an inordinate appreciation of the dramatic.”

  I sighed, turned on the tv, connected my phone to it, and sat in one of the overstuffed chairs. It was a pale yellow, so I was pretty sure I shouldn't tuck up my feet, having been barefoot for about an hour. “Fine, but I'm going to start with a video where I'm awesome.” I found my old YouTube channel, KatieMakeSTuff, and scrolled through the best, most popular videos, to one of my favorites, an ice cream sundae tutorial. Braden was in it, so I had to look at the lying sack of poop, but I figured it would help in explaining the whole sordid tale. I could feel Zach and Emma behind me, it was hard enough showing the video to Magnus and Lady Mairead, when they knew nothing about YouTube and pop culture, but Emma and Zach knew how hard and how far I had fallen.

  The sundae tutorial was twelve minutes long, and I was cute and funny in it. Braden was adoring and a little incompetent, which made our viewers believe he was sweet, honest, and the vulnerable one. In it I made a three-layer sundae with caramel sauce, hot fudge sauce, and raspberry sauce, plus I placed a bit of dry ice in each so that fog poured over the edge of the bowls, covering the table.

  Magnus watched the video wide-eyed, then when it was over, asked, “Chef Zach, could ye make a concoction such as this?”

  “Right now?”

  “Och aye, with a wee bit of cloud inside the bowl?”

  “I can. Emma, would you go to the store for some dry ice and more ice cream?” Zach and Emma stood in the kitchen looking through the freezer and the cabinets for the ingredients.

  Lady Mairead asked me, “So this is your work, Mistress Kaitlyn?”

  “Yes, I mean, it was. I don't do it anymore.”

  “And this man is?”

  “He was the man I was going to marry.”

  Lady Mairead sat up straighter. “Well now, this is an interesting history.” A second video began to automatically play. This one was very popular — Braden and I were picking out the invitations for our wedding. I started to click it off, but Lady M
airead said, “I would verra much like tae watch this one as well.”

  I glanced at Magnus, who nodded. “Aye, but if it contains more recipes we may need Zach tae sit with us tae list it down.”

  Emma zoomed out the door with a laugh.

  Zach joked, “Magnus, sir, I can't make anything else, Emma already left.”

  Magnus sighed jokingly. “I must settle with magical foggy ice cream then. Mistress Kaitlyn, pray continue.”

  In the video Braden and I sat beside each other staring into the camera, giggling into each other's ears, bumping shoulders, and joking with each other. It was so sweet how he deferred to me in the decisions, telling me I was beautiful and so great. At one point he said he loved me.

  I turned the remote control over and over in my hands as tears welled up again. I blinked them down watching as my video-self held up invitation samples, thinking, this was such a big decision, the typeface, the color of the paper, the style of the embossing — it felt important.

  I had been stressed out by the decision, and Braden had been so kind and considerate and loving through it. Yet at the time he was already in love with someone else. I had been so happy in this video, so in love. And he was such a good liar.

  I tried to wipe an escaped tear from my cheek without anyone seeing.

  Lady Mairead had a look in her eye of deep scrutiny. “What happened tae this man ye were tae marry?”

  I said, “He decided to marry someone else.”

  Lady Mairead blinked. “Well — tis unforgivable.”

  Magnus said, “Let's see then.”

  I went to Braden's channel, BradenthenedarB, glancing at his subscriber numbers, 2.1 million. Great, growing bigger every day, and there it was, his most popular video: the day of my freak out.

  Zack said, “Have you ever personally shown this to anyone before?”

  I said, “Nope. Haven't needed to, everyone's seen it already. Plus, as you can imagine, I don't really like to watch it. Anymore.” I glanced at their faces. Magnus's looked expectant. Lady Mariead's seemed curious. Zach's seemed concerned. “Are you sure you want to see it?”