Spirit of a Highlander: A Scottish Time Travel Romance (Arch Through Time Book 7)
Page 22
"Let her go!" Logan bellowed. He launched himself at Eoin but a force suddenly grabbed him and froze him in place.
"Ye have proven quite irritating, Logan MacAuley," the old man said, a flicker of annoyance passing over his wrinkled face. "I think maybe ye are right. It is over. For ye, anyway."
He held out his hand and squeezed. Logan suddenly began to choke, thrashing against unseen bonds.
"No!" Thea screamed. She struggled, trying to break free but Eoin held her fast. “Leave him alone!”
"Give me the anchor charm," the old man said. Eoin swung the knapsack from his shoulder and held it out to the old man who snatched it and pulled out the brand. He spoke a word and the metal flared to life, burning so hot it reminded Thea of the coals in Logan's forge. The Fae stepped towards Logan and tore away his shirt, revealing the tattoo crawling across his chest.
The Fae smiled. "I'm afraid this is going to hurt."
Logan, unable to move, glared at the man. There was no fear in his eyes, only raw fury. Not so for Thea. Cold horror drenched her, turning her legs to water as the Fae advanced on Logan. Her legs buckled and she would have collapsed but Eoin held her up. She turned her head away but Eoin grabbed her chin and forced her head around.
"Nay, ye will watch."
The brand was only inches from Logan's skin now. The white-hot metal would brand him like cattle, leaving a scar for all to see. Thea's eyes widened suddenly. A scar for all to see. Like storm clouds parting before the sun, everything suddenly became clear.
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 way to set him free.
And suddenly, finally, Thea knew what she had to do.
Feigning weakness, she went limp in Eoin's grasp. He relaxed his hold slightly and in that moment she rammed her elbow into his stomach with all her strength. The blow caught Eoin off guard. He doubled over and staggered back a pace, releasing Thea. She threw herself at the Fae. He turned to her, shock flaring on his face, as she snatched the branding iron from his hand. She backed away, holding the iron in front of her like a poker.
"Bitch!" Eoin growled. "Ye will pay for that."
He advanced on her from one side, the Fae from the other and Thea slowly backed away.
"Stay back!"
"Or what?" the Fae asked. "Surely ye dinna think that can hurt me?"
Thea glanced at Logan. The Fae's power still held him trapped but his eyes had swiveled and were following her, wide with anguish.
"You know, you are way too self-centered," Thea said to the Fae. "You think everything is about you. It really isn't."
Then, before either could react, she sprang at Eoin, pressing the brand against his cheek. Eoin screamed and the stench of burning flesh wafted through the air. Horrified, Thea dropped the iron as though it was a snake. Eoin collapsed to his knees clawing at his face where a design had been burned, a design of swirling, inter-locking coils.
It matched the one on Logan's chest—the mark of a Fae curse.
The old man stared at Eoin and then at Thea. His face had gone very pale. "What have ye done?"
Logan suddenly gasped and Thea turned to see that the tattoo on his chest was glowing red and angry, like a brand that had just been burned into his flesh. Then, as she watched, it flared brightly and then faded, leaving behind no trace of the brand or the tattoo, only bare, unmarked skin. Instead, the mark on Eoin's face began to darken until a black tattoo swirled across his cheek, sealing his bargain with the Fae,
A silent concussion suddenly rocked the ground and Thea was thrown from her feet. When she looked up, she saw Logan collapsed on the ground a few feet away from her. She crawled over to him, laying a trembling hand on his cheek.
"Logan? Logan?"
His eyes fluttered open and fixed on her. "Thea? What happened? I feel...strange. Like a weight has been lifted from around my neck."
"No!" hissed a voice. "I willnae be thwarted! Ye will die for this!"
Thea looked up to see the old man standing over her. His face was contorted into a mask of fury. He raised his hand and power crackled across his fingers. Thea ducked her head, throwing up her arm to shield her and Logan from the coming blow.
But then a calm voice spoke. "Stop. Ye willnae hurt them."
Thea looked around and her eyes widened in shock to see Irene MacAskill standing a few feet away, gray hair tied back in a bun, hands clasped in front of her, regarding the old man calmly.
"Ye! Ye meddling fool! Ye think ye can stop me?" sneered the old man. He brought his hand crashing down towards Thea and Logan but the power crackling around his fingers suddenly fizzled and died. He spun on the old woman. "What have ye done to me?"
"I?" Irene replied. "I have done naught. Ye are merely subject to the bargain ye made. Ye canna harm Logan MacAuley or Thea Thomas as ye have no bargain and therefore no power over them."
"What are ye talking about?" the old man spat. "I bargained for the life of the MacAuley laird and it was given willingly, sealed with the mark of the Fae!"
"Aye," Irene agreed. "And ye have the MacAuley laird, marked and claimed by yer bargain. He's right there." She pointed at Eoin who stared up at her in terror.
"Ye have tricked me!" the old man raged. "The bargain doesnae stand!"
The wind picked up suddenly, swirling around them. "I think ye will find that it does," Irene said. "Even our kind canna escape the laws of the balance. The balance which has now been restored. Go now. Ye have no further business here."
The old man glared at Irene but the wind suddenly howled around him so fiercely that dirt was whipped into the air, blocking Thea's view. When it subsided, both the old man and Eoin were gone.
Irene MacAskill turned to look at Thea and Logan. “That,” she said. “Was what people in yer time would probably term a ‘close shave’.”
Thea scrambled to her feet and faced the diminutive woman. “Where are they?” she demanded. “What happened to them?”
Irene smiled. “Far away where they canna bother any of us again. They are now bound together. I dinna think either of them will like the experience.”
Logan heaved himself to his feet. He tottered a little and Thea held out a hand to steady him. He moved to Thea’s side and looked down at Irene MacAskill. He towered over her but she seemed not in the least bit daunted.
“Now?” he growled. “Ye choose to appear now? After we’ve been searching for ye all this time? After Eoin nearly caused a war?”
“I couldnae interfere,” Irene replied. “What ye did, ye had to do of yer own free will. If I had done so, the balance would have been tipped and all would have been lost. My granddaughter risked much by talking to ye.”
“Kara?” Thea asked.
“Aye, she still has much to learn. I will be having words with her. Still, all is well that ends well, eh? Listen! They are calling for their laird.”
Thea and Logan turned to look at the MacAuley lines. The men were stamping their feet and chanting. “MacAuley! MacAuley!”
“They are calling for Eoin,” Logan said.
“Nay,” Irene said, shaking her head. “They are calling for ye. Ye are, after all, Laird MacAuley.”
Logan went very still. “I dinna understand.”
Irene smiled. “Ye will, lad.”
Just then they heard hoof beats and turned to see two men riding towards them from the direction of the MacKinnon lines. Thea recognized Rhodry on one of the horses but riding the other was an older man. They reined in the horses and dismounted. The older man approached Logan. He had a puzzled look on his face.
“Logan? Is that ye?”
Logan frowned. “Ye recognize me?”
“Of course I recognize ye!” the older man cried. “I may be getting old but I’m not yet blind! I’ve known ye since ye were a bairn! Young Rhodry here has been telling me a mighty strange story—something about our clans going to war! I would have told him he was cracked b
ut for the evidence of my own eyes. I feel a little strange, I must admit. Kind of foggy. What are we doing here, Logan? Why are our forces arrayed for battle?”
“Ye have awoken from a long sleep, Laird MacKinnon,” Irene said. “But all will be well.”
Logan stepped forward and gripped Laird MacKinnon’s hand. “My friend, will ye withdraw yer forces from the field?”
“Of course I will! I havnae a cursed idea why we are here in the first place!”
“Then the MacAuley forces will do the same. Ye must trust me, my friend. There is much I must tell ye but that must wait until later. So what now?” Logan said, turning to Irene.
“That depends on the two of ye,” she replied. “And the choices ye will make.” She turned to look at Thea. “Ye have done all I asked of ye and ye have my thanks, lass. What do ye now wish? Do ye want to go home?”
Home? Thea thought. The twenty—first century? It seemed so strange now she thought about it, like an alien land rather than where she had spent most of her life. It was the Highlands that felt like home now—because of one man.
She looked at Logan and found him staring at her with an expression she’d never expected to see. Fear. He held out his hand.
“Dinna go,” he whispered.
“This isnae yer choice,” Irene interjected. “It is Thea’s to make. What will it be, my dear?”
“You cannot send me home, Irene,” she said. “Because I’m already here.” She took a step closer to Logan and stood looking up at him. “You’re my home, Logan, and I’d like to stay here, if you’ll have me.”
“Have ye?” he said hoarsely. “God in Heaven, Thea, of course I’ll have ye. I’ve never been so scared in all my life. For a moment there I thought ye were going to leave me.” He drew in a deep, steadying breath and then laid his hands on her shoulders. “Aye, lass. I’ll have ye. I’ll have ye for the rest of our lives—if ye’ll have me. I love ye, lass. I love ye more than life. I want ye by my side for all time. Will ye marry me?”
Thea’s heart skipped a beat. Her heart swelled and she suddenly felt as light as a feather. “Yes,” she breathed. “Of course I’ll marry you.”
Logan bent his head to kiss her and Thea’s eyes slid closed as their lips met, euphoria sweeping through her like rain on a desert. A huge swell of noise erupted around them and she realized the MacAuley forces were hollering and cheering— cheering a name.
“Laird MacAuley! Laird MacAuley!”
Chapter 21
Thea was so nervous she was sure she was going to throw up. The air in her chamber felt stifling even though a cool breeze was blowing through the open window. From the courtyard below came the sound of Highland pipes playing and raucous laughing as the guests started enjoying themselves.
“Are ye ready?” Ailsa asked.
Thea turned away from the window, focussing instead on her friend who was kneeling by the fireplace making last minute adjustments to Anna and Maisie’s bridesmaids’ dresses. Thea sucked in a breath.
“Ready as I’ll ever be.”
Ailsa laughed and climbed to her feet. “Dinna worry, every bride gets nervous on her wedding day. Lord, when I wed Rhodry I almost bolted back down the aisle. It was only my father’s grip that stopped me!”
“I know,” Thea breathed. “But all those people!”
It wasn’t the thought of marrying Logan that was making her nervous—hell, just the thought of that sent delicious tremors right through her body. No, it was the thought of the MacAuley clan—her new clan—and so many others watching that had nerves fluttering in her belly like butterflies. Logan had invited half the Highlands, it seemed. Now that he was laird again he was eager to re-cement old bonds and what better excuse than a wedding?
Not that those bonds needed re-cementing, mind you. It seemed that whatever magic had sealed his bargain with the Fae had transferred from him to Eoin. Now nobody remembered Eoin MacAuley at all and everyone thought Logan had always been the laird. It was most strange.
Only Ailsa and Rhodry knew the truth. One of the first things Logan had done was bring them up to the castle and make them the new housekeeper and steward. Margaret and Malcolm were more than happy to retire and Logan had given them a comfortable suite of rooms in the castle as well as a generous pension. Ailsa and Rhodry had taken to their roles with ease and it was good to see the children racing around the place with their new friends. Even Mary approved of the change—mostly because she got to order servants around.
Thea did a little twirl. “Well, how do I look?”
“Like a princess!” Anna cried.
Maisie waved a chubby hand. “Princess Thea!”
She laughed. “Hardly a princess but thank you for the compliment.” She looked around at them all. “Well, shall we get this show on the road?”
They filed out of the room. Ailsa, as Thea’s maid of honor, walked by her side, holding Maisie’s hand. Anna walked behind holding a bouquet, taking her duties as bridesmaid very seriously indeed. The corridors of the castle had been decked out with flowers and ribbons. They stood in vases and hung in bunches from the walls—testament to Mary and Ailsa’s wedding planning.
As they walked, Thea felt a flicker of sadness. She’d always hoped her grandad would give her away and that her grandma would be there to hold her hand. But they weren’t and they’d be mighty shocked to see the life she’d chosen.
But they’d be happy for me, she thought. They always wanted what was best for me and they’d love Logan. I don’t doubt they’re here in spirit.
By the time they reached the doors to the Great Hall the nerves in Thea’s stomach were wriggling like snakes. The doors had been thrown wide open and from the hallway outside Thea could see rows and rows of people craning their necks to watch her.
Ailsa gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and Thea forced a smile. Oh god! They were all staring at her!
But all her nerves fell away as she stepped into the room and her eyes found Logan. He stood with Rhodry and the priest at the far end, his eyes fixed on her. The guests, the Great Hall, the entire world seemed to fall away until all she saw was him. Dressed in the MacAuley plaid, with his copper hair falling onto his shoulders and his eyes shining, he was quite possibly the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.
And he was hers.
Thea kept her gaze locked on Logan’s all the way down the aisle. Only when she reached him did she glance at the crowd and spot the two figures standing at the back. Irene MacAskill and Kara Harris both had broad smiles on their faces and Thea was sure she could see the twinkle of tears in Irene’s eyes. For a moment their eyes met and Irene inclined her head. Thea nodded and then gave them both a smile before turning to her intended.
Logan stood for a moment looking down at her, saying not a word. He didn’t need to. His emotions were written clearly on his face: in the way his eyes shone and his lips turned up in a joyous smile.
“Thea,” he said softly. “Ye look...perfect.”
He took her hands in his and they faced each other as the priest began the ceremony. It seemed to pass in only a heartbeat and she barely heard any of the words. All her attention was fixed on the man before her, this wonderful, amazing man.
Then it was done and the priest was announcing that they were husband and wife and Logan was picking her up and twirling her around, to the delight of the guests who cheered and applauded loud enough to lift the roof. Finally Logan set her on her feet. Cupping her face in his hands, he leaned down and kissed her deeply enough to set the crowd cheering even louder.
“My wife,” he breathed. “I will spend the rest of my life making ye happy.”
“You already did,” she replied, tears filling her eyes. “You already did.”
***
Thea couldn’t remember the last time she’d had so much fun. These Highlanders sure knew how to throw a party. She had no idea how the kitchen staff had managed to produce so much food and drink but it had flowed all afternoon and long into the evening until everyo
ne—the kitchen staff included—were what her grandma would have called a little bit ‘merry’.
There had been games in the bailey, singing in the Great Hall, and so much dancing that Thea feared she’d be unable to walk come the morning. Her current dancing partner was Laird MacKinnon and although he was old enough to be Thea’s grandfather, he was still sprightly on his feet, twirling Thea and leading her through the steps like a much younger man. By the time the music came to an end, Thea was laughing and breathless.
Laird MacKinnon leaned over, his hands on his knees. “Ah! Mayhap my wife was right when she said I’m a silly old fool who thinks I can still keep up with the youngsters.”
“Nonsense!” Thea replied. “You could teach the youngsters a thing or two I reckon!”
“Ha! That’s kind of ye to say, lass, but I think I’ll take a breather all the same.”
Thea helped the old man to his chair then looked around for Logan. There was no sign of him. He wasn’t dancing and his chair up at the main table was empty. Thea thought for a moment then wove her way across the floor—excusing herself from requests to dance—and out into the bailey. Hiking up her dress, she made her way around it and ducked into the stable.
It was blessedly calm and quiet after the bustle of the wedding. The only sound was the horses munching on their hay—and the ‘swish, swish’ of a horse being groomed. Thea made her way down the central aisle towards the sound. At the end she found Logan grooming Stepper. The white mare had been discovered amongst the mounts of Eoin’s garrison, much to Logan’s relief. Still dressed in his wedding plaid, he held a comb in one hand and was meticulously brushing out Stepper’s mane.
“You know, some brides might be offended by their husband making a quick get away from their own wedding.”
Logan spun towards her. He grinned. Dropping the brush, he grabbed her around the waist and kissed her.
“Then it’s good ye are not most brides isnae it?”
“Aye,” she replied, mimicking his accent. “I suppose it is.” She ran a hand through his hair and looked up at him. “What are you doing here, Logan? And don’t say you’re grooming Stepper. I can see that. Why are you grooming Stepper?”