Spirit of a Highlander: A Scottish Time Travel Romance (Arch Through Time Book 7)

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Spirit of a Highlander: A Scottish Time Travel Romance (Arch Through Time Book 7) Page 19

by Katy Baker


  "I'm just a traveler."

  "Aye, but a traveler from where? And why did this Irene woman bring ye here?"

  Thea felt heat rising in her cheeks. She was suddenly very, very sure that she didn't want Eoin to know about her being a time-traveler. There was something hungry, almost predatory in his gaze. She stood abruptly.

  "I...I'm very tired," she said. "I think I'll retire for the night."

  It was a lame excuse and she half expected Eoin to insist she stay and answer his questions. She was surprised then when he nodded.

  "Aye. It has been a tiring day for ye no doubt. Would ye like to call Rian to escort ye back to yer room?"

  "No," Thea said quickly. "I can find my own way. Thanks for dinner. Good night."

  Eoin bowed. "Good night, my lady."

  Thea turned and scurried from the room. Once outside she didn't return to her bed chamber. Instead she hurried along the corridor then ducked around the first corner, pressing herself against the cold stone wall. She waited, keeping very still and very silent. The minutes passed and just when she was about to give it up and return to her room she heard Eoin's door creak open and then the sound of receding footsteps. She peeked around the corner to see Eoin striding quickly away down the corridor. With a quick glance around to make sure nobody was watching, Thea followed.

  If there was one thing Thea was good at, it was sneaking. As a wildlife photographer, she’d quickly learned how to move without being seen or heard. So Thea padded quickly along behind Eoin, staying far enough back that he wouldn't hear her soft footfalls but close enough that she didn't lose sight of him. To her surprise, he didn't enter the main part of the castle but instead moved into the quieter, less-used servants’ corridors at the back.

  Here the passages were dimly lit, with only the occasional torch fixed to the wall. This meant there were large patches of shadow that Thea had to creep through. Eoin reached a spiraling stairwell and started to climb. After a moment she heard the rattle of a lock and the creaking of a door. Thea recognized the stairwell as the one she and Rian had used earlier that day.

  She paused at the bottom, biting her lip. There was not a soul in sight. It must be getting late and the serving staff were most likely already in their beds. Still Thea hesitated. It was all very well following the laird in the corridors where she could claim she got lost but how would she explain creeping up these stairs? But she had no choice. She was sure Eoin had something to do with Logan leaving so suddenly and this might be her only chance to discover what that was. Taking a deep, slow breath, she set her foot on the first step and moved cautiously upwards.

  Before long she spotted the half-landing above her that housed the door to Eoin's private study. This time the padlock that had held the door was gone and the door itself stood slightly ajar as though Eoin had forgotten to close it properly in his haste. Heart thumping, Thea stepped closer. From somewhere within she heard the sound of voices. One was Eoin's but she didn't recognize the other and they were too quiet for her to make out the words. Who was he talking to in there?

  The gap in the door was too narrow for her to squeeze through but she might be able to spy through the crack. Careful to make no sound, Thea pressed her eye to the gap and peered into the room beyond. The room’s walls and floor were unworked stone and it was bare of furniture. The only decoration was a chalk circle scrawled on the flagstones with four rounded stones marking the cardinal points.

  What the hell? Thea thought. What is this?

  And yet this was not the strangest sight.

  A small, square table sat in the center of the chalk circle and an old man was seated at it. He was small, shorter than Thea herself, and seemed old beyond measure. His skin was brown and wrinkled like boiled leather and there was not a single hair on the smooth scalp. The eyes that looked out of his weathered face were as black as onyx. Something about him put Thea in mind of Irene MacAskill but where Irene radiated a kind of grandmotherly warmth, all that shone from this man's eyes was malevolence. A shiver walked down Thea's spine. Who was this man?

  Eoin, who was standing just outside the circle of stones, crossed the threshold and took a seat at the table opposite the old man. He had something in his hands which he was turning over and over. It looked like a branding iron with hair tied around it. The design of the brand was a series of interlocking coils that looked exactly like... Thea shivered.

  It was the same design as Logan’s tattoo.

  "Ye summon me for this?” the old man growled at him. “To ask me to enchant some lass into yer bed? Ye overstep yerself, mortal!"

  Eoin glared. "She is my cousin’s woman. They are besotted with each other. What better revenge than to take the woman he loves? To have him watch as she falls in love with me instead?”

  The old man smiled. “Ye have a cruel streak in ye worthy of any Fae, Eoin MacAuley. But the petty carnal desires of humans have no interest for me. If ye wish to bed some lass, ye will have to win her yerself.”

  “Have ye not been listening? This is not just 'some lass'. She's different. She knows things. She knows about Logan's curse and yet is unaffected by it. And I think she suspects my part in it."

  At this the man's eyes flashed. "Does she now?" He scratched his chin. "Nay, it isnae possible. My enchantment holds. No highlander may remain near the MacAuley brothers and remain unaffected."

  "She's no highlander," Eoin replied. "Irene MacAskill brought her here."

  At that the man's head came up and a look of pure fury crossed his face. "Irene MacAskill? That meddling old harridan?" The anger faded and he looked suddenly thoughtful. "Then ye may be right. Perhaps there is more to this lass. Irene has the power of time and I'm willing to wager the lass does too."

  Eoin's eyes widened. "Then I claim her. She will be mine. She will be my wife and give me this 'power of time'. I claim it as my right."

  "Yer right?" the old man said, his eyes flashing. "Careful, mortal. We have nay bargain concerning the lass."

  "Then I'll make a new bargain. Give her to me and I'll do yer bidding."

  The old man laughed harshly. "What could ye possibly offer me that would be worth her?"

  "Ye said yerself she may hold the power of time. Think of what we could achieve with her under our control."

  The old man looked thoughtful. "Aye. Maybe ye are right. Very well. If ye win the battle with the MacKinnons, I will give the lass to ye. Give me what I want: war, chaos, glorious misery, and I will grant yer paltry desire.”

  "I want her now," Eoin growled. "I know how ye will twist and turn and try to get out of any bargain we make. Just like ye did with Logan, Camdan and Finlay. They were supposed to die! Instead they are still out there, living and breathing. I will not have ye reneging on this bargain!"

  The old man's eyes blazed. "I am Fae!" he bellowed and a ripple of power rolled through the cavern, charging it with electricity. "And we fulfill our bargains how we see fit! I never promised to kill yer cousins for ye! I promised to take their lives—and take them I did. In return ye were to bring war and death to the Highlands—something ye are yet to fulfill—so dinna dare speak to me of reneging on a bargain!"

  Eoin gritted his teeth and Thea saw a vein throbbing in his temple. He was clearly furious but also afraid of this man. After a moment he nodded. "I will fulfill my part of the bargain when I take the MacKinnon's head. Ye will have the strife ye so crave and I will have power over all the Highlands." He fixed the old man with a stare. "And I will have Thea Thomas as my wife."

  Thea's blood ran cold and her heart began to thump in her chest. No you won't, you lying, cheating bastard, she thought. Never. I’d die first.

  She turned on her heel and quietly crept away. Only when she’d gone far enough that Eoin wouldn't hear her footsteps did she give into her panic and run. She pelted through the darkened passages, her pulse pounding in her ears. She had to get out. She had to find Logan and warn him. Somehow they had to stop Eoin from waging his war.

  She took the steps t
wo at a time. She remembered that a door lay at the bottom. She’d go from there to the stables, beg or steal a horse, and then make a run for it.

  She almost sobbed in relief when she reached the door. She lost precious seconds trying to throw back the heavy bolt and she kept glancing up, expecting at any minute to hear heavy footsteps descending. At last the bolt shot home and Thea pushed open the door, tumbling out into the blessedly cool air of the bailey.

  Pausing for only a heartbeat to orient herself, she set off, hugging the base of the castle to make it harder for any guards on the battlements to spot her. Reaching the corner of the castle, she grabbed the hem of her dress so it wouldn't trip her then sprinted across the bailey.

  She reached the stable block without incident and leaned against the rough wooden wall, grateful for the shadows that hid her from prying eyes. The door was secured with a wooden cross-beam but it was easy enough to lift out of its metal brackets. Thea pushed open the door and stole inside. The musty smell of horses assailed her and the soft sigh of their breathing and the occasional stamp of a hoof was the only sound.

  Thea didn't have time to be picky so she crossed to the first stall where a brown gelding was drowsing with his head hanging down. He awoke at Thea's approach and stepped forward eagerly, ears swiveling in Thea's direction. He wasn't too big, not as tall as Stepper, for which Thea was grateful.

  "How about we go for a little ride?" she whispered to the horse, rubbing the velvety skin of his nose.

  "I would advise against it," said a voice behind her. "It's a cold night and there are brigands about."

  Thea whirled. Eoin MacAuley was standing in the doorway, his arms crossed and a small smile on his face.

  Thea backed away. "Stay away from me."

  "Is that any way to treat someone who's offered ye sanctuary?"

  "Sanctuary?" Thea spat. "You never intended to help me! You just wanted to get rid of Logan in case he upset your plans."

  Eoin raised an eyebrow. "My, but ye are a fiery one. I can see why he likes ye. Now come inside and we will see if we canna sort out this little misunderstanding." He took a step towards her. Thea backed away.

  "I'm not going anywhere with you. I'm leaving. Now stand aside and let me go." She was grateful that her voice came out steady.

  "Nay possible I'm afraid. I know ye were listening at the door and heard my plans. It would be very stupid of me to let ye go wandering with such knowledge wouldnae it? And it would be even more stupid of me to allow someone with the power of time to escape me, dinna ye think? Imagine what we could do together! Imagine where we could go!”

  Thea's heart was thumping so hard she feared it might crack her ribs. "Logan will never let you get away with this," she said. "He'll come for me."

  Eoin barked a sharp, savage laugh. "Logan? It was Logan who brought ye to me in the first place! My cousin may have many fine qualities but the judgment of character isnae one of them. He's always been a trusting fool. He handed me the lairdship and now he brings me my wife! Oh, he'll not be coming for ye, lass."

  "I'll never be your wife. "I'll never marry you."

  Eoin sauntered closer. "Oh, ye will. Ye see, I've made a new bargain and ye are the prize. Once the battle is over ye will marry me willingly. Ye will be devoted to me and willnae even remember who Logan is. Until then, ye willnae be going anywhere."

  Chapter 18

  "There! Ye look beautiful, my lady!" Rian said, standing behind Thea as she examined herself in the mirror.

  Thea sighed and turned to look out of the window. Men were clustered in ranks in the bailey below, and in the lower part of the town too. The MacAuley army, ready to march out and meet the MacKinnon. And after that if Eoin had his way...

  No! Don't think about it! she told herself savagely. You'll find a way out of this. You will.

  Rian peered over her shoulder at the men below. "My, dinna they look grand?" she said, a note of pride in her voice. "My Ma always said the MacAuley clan were the pride of the Highlands. Now I see what she meant."

  But most of those aren't MacAuley men, Thea thought. Most are mercenaries bought by Eoin. And they don't look grand to me. They look like men ready for violence.

  Rian gave Thea an encouraging smile. "Dinna worry, my lady. Ye and Laird Eoin willnae be anywhere near the fighting. Ye'll be in no danger. Then afterwards we'll be having a double celebration—victory in war and the marriage of our laird!"

  Thea bit her lip to keep from screaming. Rian’s eyes were bright, her cheeks rosy. She looked the picture of exuberance—but there was something wrong with her, just as there was something wrong with everyone in this damned place.

  Meeting the woman's gaze directly and pronouncing each word clearly Thea said, "Rian, for the hundredth time, I do not want to marry Laird Eoin. I never agreed to it. He is forcing me into this and keeping me here against my will. I'm a prisoner."

  A glazed look came into Rian's eyes. For a moment she looked puzzled but then her smile returned. "We'll have games and dancing out on the green. It will be a grand day."

  Thea threw up her hands in exasperation. It was the same no matter who she spoke to. After her altercation with Eoin last night she'd been escorted back to her chamber and woke with a raging headache and an urgent desire to get as far away from this place as possible. But everyone she'd met had quietly stopped her from leaving. The stableman had laughed gently when she asked him for a horse and told her that Laird Eoin had forbidden her from riding. The guards on the gate had escorted her back into the castle with friendly smiles, and when she'd told them she was a prisoner, they had merely nodded and wished her well for her big day. It was like they couldn't hear her. Whatever she told them about Eoin seemed to bounce off them, leaving no impact at all.

  It was the same thing that happened whenever she'd asked Ailsa and Rhodry about the old Laird MacAuley. They'd get that same glazed look as though trying to piece together thoughts that wouldn't come. It was the work of Logan's curse and she was now sure that everyone in Dun Ringill was under the same kind of enchantment, Fae magic making them believe whatever Eoin wanted them to believe.

  Her stomach tightened with anger at the thought of that man. Oh how she'd love to slap his grinning face! How she'd love to knee him right where it hurt and see him crumple to the ground! But even that small satisfaction wouldn't be enough. The scale of the evil that Eoin had wrought was staggering. He'd betrayed his cousins, made pacts with an evil Fae, and led his clan to war. And for what? For power. He had to be stopped.

  "Are ye ready, my lady?" Rian asked.

  Thea drew a deep breath and nodded. She followed Rian down to the bailey. A wall of noise hit her as she stepped outside. Men shouting orders, dogs barking, horses snorting. Thea halted at the top of the steps. The sea of people in front of her seemed endless. Weapons glinted in the morning sunlight.

  And they will all die unless I stop this, she thought.

  "Ah! There ye are, my dear!" Eoin swept up to her.

  He looked resplendent in his MacAuley plaid and long crimson cloak. His golden hair shone in the light, his handsome face lit with a smile. He was every bit the impressive Highland warrior and she could well understand why Rian stared up at him with longing in her eyes. But Thea knew the outward beauty hid an inner corruption. Eoin MacAuley was not the man everyone thought he was.

  She smiled sweetly at him. "Touch me and I will kill you.”

  Eoin laughed. "Ah, my fire-tempered beauty." He gave her a courtly bow. "Shall we?"

  Gritting her teeth, Thea allowed Eoin to lead her to the horse that had been set aside for her. It was a magnificent dapple mare, done out in gaudy finery. A stable hand helped her into the saddle and she settled into her seat, stiff-backed and tense. She watched Eoin. As he approached his own horse, he hesitated for a moment and checked his saddle bag. Inside Thea spotted the branding iron Eoin had been holding when he met with the Fae last night, the one with the same design as Logan’s tattoo.

  The mark of the Fae burned
into his skin, a brand for all to see, tis the sign of his fateful bargain, and the way to set him free.

  The words in Irene MacAskill’s book suddenly came back to her. Thea’s heart skipped. The way to set him free. Eoin glanced at her and she quickly looked away but her mind was suddenly whirling.

  As the laird heeled his horse and led the way out of the gates, Thea gritted her teeth in determination. She would find a way to stop Eoin MacAuley if it was the last thing she ever did.

  ***

  Logan sat in the gloom and waited. Enough light fell through the small, barred window to illuminate the manacles that chained him to the wall but little else. Footsteps approached the cell door and he heard voices talking outside. The door opened and the sudden torchlight was bright enough to make Logan squint and throw his arm in front of his face.

  Two guards stepped inside, one carrying a tray, the other a drawn sword. Both watched him warily as they set down the tray. Logan grinned at them and they paled, stepping back a pace. He had been far from a model prisoner. One of the guards sported a black eye, the other a bloody nose.

  Logan said nothing as they backed out of the cell and closed the door behind them. After a moment he shuffled over to the tray, the chains just long enough to allow him to reach it. A bowl of broth and a hunk of bread sat on it but Logan wasn’t interested in the food. Instead, he grabbed the spoon and held it up to the light. Made of pewter, it was cheaply crafted with a thin handle that was easily bent.

  Logan smiled. Good. This was exactly what he needed.

  Shuffling back to his spot by the wall, he carefully went to work on the spoon handle, bending it into the required shape. Eoin was a fool. Had he forgotten that Logan was a blacksmith now? That he made manacles and chains for a living? Did he really think these would hold him?

  Eoin.

  The thought of his cousin sent a hot surge of fury pounding through Logan’s veins. He’d trusted him, brought him into his counsel, depended on him for advice. And what had he done with that trust? Used it to destroy him and his brothers and to bring his clan to the brink of war.

 

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