Highland Knight

by Cindy Miles

  Then it spoke.

  Go to her . . .

  Ethan glanced at his kin. Their faces held the same mystified look he felt. ‘‘How?’’ Damn, he felt silly speaking to a waft of mist.

  And then the waft drifted to his ear, and the whispered words meant just for him came through clearly.

  ’Twas Devina.

  With his heart in his throat, he listened.

  Dunna hesitate, Ethan Munro. The wrongs have indeed been truly righted—all but for one. You do no’ belong here any longer, and the one you desire awaits you. Your kin must go, as well, as they’ve been absent from history, like you. Dunna mourn me. ’Twas my time to leave this place, and I am well. The one you truly love tried to save me, but ’twas meant for me to leave. Go, all of you, and remember the verse . . .

  Ethan blinked, and the ghost of his young wife, Devina, slipped around them all. He once more glanced at his kinsmen. ‘‘If any of you desire to remain, speak now.’’ He stared, and the five Munros stood tall, and stayed silent. With a nod, Ethan reached inside his belt and withdrew the scrap of parchment Amelia had penned the time verse upon.

  It had been Devina’s spirit who’d told it to her.

  And with the mist curling around them, Ethan stared at his beloved’s feminine scrawl, written with ink from centuries into the future. His eyes hazed over, and as he said the words, and the mist grew thicker, he glanced at the trunk of that old yew, and at the words he’d carved just days before . . .

  The parchment slipped from his hand and fluttered to the ground, and as everything grew deathly silent, the blackness, once again, pulled them into shadows.

  Chapter 31

  Amelia stared up at the softly whirring paddles of the ceiling fans on her granny’s porch. Dropping her leg over the edge of the swing, she gave it another push with the toe of her bare foot. The old chains on the swing creaked, and crickets fought for air time with the summer cicadas. The very sounds she’d grown up listening to.

  Somewhat comforting, she thought.

  ‘‘You want me to squirt some more of that canned cheese in your mouth, Amelia Frances?’’

  Amelia turned and looked at her granny. ‘‘I thought we were out.’’

  ‘‘Arthritis creme, we let run out. Canned cheese and Vienna weenies, never.’’ She got up, bones popping with each step, and walked to the swing and patted Amelia on the head. ‘‘You look like you could use a little of both.’’

  Amelia sat up and grasped her granny’s blue-veined hand. ‘‘Just don’t tell ZuZu."

  "Too late, I already heard,’’ ZuZu said through the screened door, and then made a clucking noise with her tongue. "Shame on you, Granny. That stuff is horrible for you."

  Dona, Amelia’s granny, grinned. ‘‘There’s a full serving of dairy in each can, you know.’’

  Amelia laughed.

  ‘‘Well, now,’’ Dona said. ‘‘That’s the first real laugh I’ve heard out of you since you finished your book.’’

  Amelia gave the swing another push. ‘‘Post-novel blues.’’

  ‘‘It’s a fabulous story, Amelia,’’ ZuZu said. ‘‘Your best work. You should be proud.’’

  Amelia inhaled the tangy scent of salt marsh and sighed. She was proud of the book. It might just be her best effort to date. But it had made her miss Ethan more and more as each day passed. And she was having a hard time picking up the pieces of her shattered heart.

  ‘‘Is it another boy, Amelia?’’ Dona asked. ‘‘If it is, we’ll just get ZuZu there to have another voodoo doll made up.’’

  Amelia gave a soft laugh. ‘‘Don’t worry, Granny,’’ she said. ‘‘No voodoo doll needed, I promise.’’

  Granny huffed, muttered under her breath, and went through the creaky screen door. ‘‘I’ll bring you girls out some tea in just a minute.’’ She disappeared into the shady depths of the old plantation house.

  ZuZu sat down beside Amelia, her flip-flops smacking on the wooden porch floor with each pass of the swing. ‘‘I’m really worried about you, Amelia, ’’ she said. ‘‘Have you told anyone else about, well, what you told me?’’

  Amelia shook her head. ‘‘I know you think I’m crazy.’’ She smiled at her friend. ‘‘I’ll be fine, really.’’

  ZuZu narrowed her eyes. ‘‘I’m not that easily convinced, Meelie. Besides. I think we should go on a little vacation. Maybe a cruise?’’

  Amelia shook her head. ‘‘I don’t really feel like it.’’

  ZuZu sighed, and then jumped up. ‘‘Oh! I’ve got something for you.’’ She ran to the screen door, stepped inside, and brought out a thick, white photo mailer. She handed it to Amelia.

  ‘‘That may make you even gloomier, but I thought it might be important,’’ ZuZu said, and sat back down.

  Amelia looked at the mailer and blinked. Post-marked from Scotland, it had a black, scratchy scrawl across the front. She peered at the return address, and then stared up at ZuZu. ‘‘This is from Guthrie, the Munro caretaker.’’

  ZuZu nodded. ‘‘I know. I thought it might be something you’d left behind.’’

  For some reason, Amelia’s fingers shook as she ripped the paper tab across the front. She reached in and grabbed the only thing inside the mailer.

  A single photograph.

  ‘‘A picture? What is it of?’’ ZuZu asked.

  Amelia held her breath as her eyes focused on the photograph. Tears filled her eyes, slipped through her lashes, and dropped onto a glossy, digital print of the Munros’ old yew tree. She drew closer and stared, and her heart slammed against her ribs. Amelia gasped.

  ‘‘Amelia, what is it?’’ ZuZu said, leaning over her shoulder.

  Engraved deep into the bark of the ancient yew tree were the words Amelia would remember for the rest of her life.

  Ethan loves Amelia

  By the by . . .

  ‘‘Oh, my God,’’ she whispered, and swiped at her tears.

  ‘‘Meelie, what?’’

  Then, at the bottom of the photograph, a small arrow, penned deep into the paper. With trembling hands, Amelia turned the picture over.

  On the plain white back were two words, scrawled in a bold, ancient script.

  Come home.

  Amelia barely dared to believe it. So many emotions threatened to choke her; she couldn’t form a sensible, coherent word. Tears steadily leaked from her eyes, and ZuZu finally slipped the photo from her.

  ZuZu looked first at the picture, then at her. ‘‘What’s this mean, Amelia?’’

  Amelia slowly shook her head and took the picture back. Excitement she only half allowed filled her heart. ‘‘I’m not completely sure, ZuZu." She smiled at her friend. ‘‘But one thing I do know.’’ She glanced at the picture in her hands and her smile widened. ‘‘We’re going back to Scotland.’’

  ‘‘Welcome to Inverness, gateway to the Highlands. I trust your flight was easygoing?’’

  Amelia smiled at the young Scotsman greeting the passengers as they exited the boarding ramp. ‘‘Yes, thank you.’’

  Deep dimples pitted his cheeks as he smiled at her and ZuZu. ‘‘Aye, Americans. To Scotland on holiday, aye?’’

  ‘‘Yes,’’ answered ZuZu, giving the guy a big Charleston smile.

  ‘‘Verra good, then. Have a lovely stay.’’ He tipped his head and smiled at the next passenger.

  ‘‘God, what a cute accent,’’ ZuZu said. ‘‘I should have come with you the first time.’’

  Amelia shook her head. ‘‘Come on. Let’s go get our stuff.’’

  They made their way through the small airport to baggage claim. Digital signs located above the conveyer belts noted the flight numbers.

  ‘‘That’s ours there,’’ ZuZu said, pointing to the belt from their aircraft. They walked up and stood, waiting for the luggage to start moving.

  Amelia sighed. What on earth was she getting herself into? It would have been much easier for her to pick up the phone and call Guthrie, but the keep didn’t have a
telephone line installed, and Guthrie didn’t have a mobile.

  Not that he would have told her much, anyway.

  What did the photo mean?

  She’d not had an ounce of rest on the trip across the Atlantic. The only thing Amelia could manage was to sit and stare at the picture. Ethan loves Amelia. By the by . . .

  Come home.

  ZuZu had booked the earliest flight, which wasn’t until the following morning. They’d left at six a.m. Pricey beyond belief, just for booking on such short notice, but there was no way Amelia would have taken a later flight. ZuZu had come for moral support, thank God—for whatever they were in for.

  ‘‘I am starved,’’ ZuZu said, bringing Amelia out of her thoughts. ‘‘I’m going to walk over and get a muffin or something. Want one?’’

  Amelia couldn’t have eaten if her life depended on it. ‘‘No, thanks. I’ll just wait here.’’

  ‘‘Be right back,’’ ZuZu said, and eased through the crowd to a small coffee shop at the other end of the baggage claim.

  ‘‘Excuse me, miss?’’

  Amelia looked up and into the eyes of a tall young man. With dark hair clipped very close and a casual pair of jeans and shirt, he smiled, handed her a single rose, and a folded note card, and then walked away.

  Amelia stared, stunned. How bizarre. She didn’t know that guy. Flipping open the card, she read the one word penned in the center.

  Will

  ‘‘Miss?’’

  Amelia looked up, and another note card and rose was pushed into her hand by an older woman, who smiled and hurried off. Again, Amelia opened the card. Once again, a single word.

  You

  She glanced around at the passengers, a few staring in her direction. What was going on?

  ‘‘Here ye go, love,’’ an older man said, handing her yet another rose and card. He winked, and then shuffled off, whistling. Amelia looked down at the card.

  Wed

  ‘‘Miss?’’

  Another rose, another card, and Amelia had to juggle things around to keep from dropping everything.

  Me

  ‘‘Here ye go,’’ another young man said, handing Amelia another note and rose. She opened the card.

  Lass?

  Amelia’s heart beat hard against her chest. One by one, strangers walked up and handed her a single red rose. She stood, shocked. She didn’t know what to do or say, just simply gathered the roses being handed to her. No less than two dozen, she guessed.

  Amelia turned in a circle and stared. The crowd stared back, smiling.

  ‘‘What in the world?’’ ZuZu said. ‘‘Amelia?’’

  All at once, tears welled up in Amelia’s eyes as she pushed the shock aside. That darn lump was back in her throat, and she swallowed past it. Then she put the words from the cards together.

  Will you wed me, lass?

  Frantic, Amelia clutched the roses and cards, and searched the crowd of people, who’d stopped to stare.

  ‘‘Amelia?’’

  Amelia froze. Ah-meh-lay-ah. She began to shake uncontrollably, and her breath stopped dead in her throat. She closed her eyes and prayed, Please, God, let it be . . .

  She heard ZuZu make a small choking noise.

  Then two strong hands gripped her shoulders and turned her slowly around. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw ZuZu drop her muffin and stare, mouth open. She may have said a naughty word.

  ‘‘I’d have flown to your home across the sea, but as ’tis, I’ve no’ the proper papers.’’ His voice grew closer. ‘‘I couldna even bring my sword here. Now, open your eyes, love,’’ he said, that rich, deep accent washing over her.

  She did. Tears blurred Amelia’s vision as she stared into Ethan Munro’s silvery eyes. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, and God knows, she couldn’t speak. A miracle in its own, really. All she could manage was to stare at the six foot seven, fourteenth-century warrior who’d somehow not only managed a trip to the twenty-first century, but to the airport. She watched a muscle tighten in his jaw.

  ‘‘Dunna say a word, lass, unless it be aye. I couldna bear it otherwise.’’

  Tears trickled down Amelia’s cheeks, and Ethan caught them with a knuckle. The feel of his rough finger against her skin made her shiver.

  Somehow, she managed to speak. ‘‘Aye—’’

  Ethan swallowed her vow as his mouth claimed hers, pulling her tightly against him, the scent of roses mixing with that of Ethan. That kiss, with Ethan drawing a deep breath as if he could just inhale her in, would stay in her memory forever. Behind her, the entire airport crowd cheered.

  He pulled back, slid his thumb over her bottom lip, and stared at her, hard. He repeated the words he’d shouted that day in the meadow. ‘‘Táim I ngrá leat, Amelia Landry.’’ Over the two dozen roses, he grasped her head between his hands and kissed her ear, then whispered, ‘‘Mo grádh.’’

  Shivers ran through her as she asked in a very puny voice, ‘‘What’s that mean?’’

  He looked at her with love burning in his eyes. ‘‘My love.’’

  All at once, Amelia took notice of just what her warrior was wearing. She blinked. So shocked by his presence, she hadn’t noticed. She did now.

  Her mouth went dry as sand.

  A solid black T-shirt stretched taut over a wall of muscle Amelia had known was there but not really seen, having previously had a bolt of plaid fabric wrapped all around it. Both big arms were encircled by the same etched silver bands. He wore his dark hair down, part of it pulled back at his nape and gathered with . . . something. The T-shirt was tucked into a pair of soft, faded jeans, and below that, a pair of worn leather boots.

  ‘‘You’re ogling.’’

  Amelia looked up and grinned. ‘‘Damn straight.’’

  Just then, a loud clearing of throats sounded behind her. She turned, and nearly dropped the roses.

  In an impressive line stood five big guys, all wearing jeans, boots, and a different assortment of shirts.

  Amelia blinked.

  ‘‘What’s the matter, lass?’’ said Aiden, giving her a wicked grin. ‘‘Dunna think I’ve ever seen ye speechless before.’’

  With a squeal, Amelia all but jumped up and down as Aiden, Sorely, Torloch, Gilchrist, and Rob rushed forward and embraced her with very tight hugs. Tears came to her eyes as she looked at each warrior.

  Aiden grabbed her by the head with both hands and pressed a kiss to her mouth. Then he looked at her. ‘‘I fear you’re strapped with us, lass,’’ he said, then glanced over her shoulder. He grinned. ‘‘And if you dunna introduce me to that fetchin’ maid standin’ there wi’ her mouth drooped open, I shall never forgive you.’’

  ZuZu!

  She looked, and her friend stood, drop-jawed, simply staring at the whole scene. Passengers bustled back and forth, in between, passing in front of them, and ZuZu just stood. Staring. Amelia laughed, eased over to her friend, and balancing all the flowers and cards in one hand, grabbed ZuZu with the other. ‘‘Come on, girl. I’ve got some people for you to meet.’’

  ZuZu looked at her, then back at Ethan and his kin, and then gave her a mischievous grin. ‘‘Man, I’ve never been more thrilled to be your best friend.’’

  With a laugh, Amelia pulled ZuZu over to meet the guys. They each gave her a low bow, grasped her hand, and brushed a kiss over her knuckles. Aiden, of course, lingered over those knuckles for just a bit longer.

  ZuZu glanced at Amelia and mouthed the word wow.

  Amelia knew the feeling.

  ‘‘Well, git your bags and let’s go, then!’’

  Amelia turned to find old Guthrie standing there with a half-grumpy frown on his face. She ran over and threw her arms around him. ‘‘Thank you,’’ she said, and kissed him on the cheek.

  The old man’s face turned red. ‘‘I’m verra sorry, lass, not to remember you, but I was a wee bit surprised by the whole bloody thing.’’ He shook his head. ‘‘Passing odd, it is. Hurts me noggin just to think on
it.’’ He shrugged. ‘‘The laird here will explain it all later. For now, let’s get going. ’Twasna easy loading up these big fellas. There’s four cabbies waitin’ out front.’’ He squinted his eyes. ‘‘Someone’s going to be fittin’ tight.’’

  ‘‘I hope that’s me,’’ whispered ZuZu.

  The men roared.

  Ethan’s hand went to Amelia’s lower back, and he pulled her close. ‘‘Come, love. Let’s go home.’’

  So they gathered their luggage and did just that.

  They stepped out into the dim light of a Highland midsummer’s eve. Even at the airport, the ever-present scent of clover reached Amelia’s nose. She inhaled and smiled.

  She’d come home.

  In the cab, Ethan pulled Amelia close, a hand always present on her somewhere. She rather liked it.

  ‘‘ ’Tis a miracle, having you,’’ he whispered against her ear. ‘‘I shall never let you go again.’’

  Amelia leaned in to him, felt his warm lips press against her temple. ‘‘You’ll never have to,’’ she said, and snuggled close for the ride back to Munro Keep.

  Home.

  Epilogue

  Amelia sat before the small dresser mirror and stared at her reflection. For the hundredth time, she took a deep, calming breath.

  Her wedding day.

  Rather, her wedding eve.

  Twilight, actually. The gloaming hour. To her, a more perfect time couldn’t have been settled on.

  A lot had happened over the past two months. ZuZu, who was by far the most perfect planner in the history of planners, took the planning of the wedding and ran with it. Small, no-fuss, non-froufrou. Easy-peasy. ZuZu had done a fabulous job, including arranging all of the flights for the Landry clan. They’d arrived two weeks before the wedding date, so Ethan and the Munro clan could get to know the Landry clan. The meeting, as Amelia had suspected, had gone off perfectly—all except her brothers, who’d given Ethan every sordid detail of Amelia’s childhood. She’d get them back for that.

  Meanwhile, her sisters and ZuZu were fought over by five big warriors. Three girls to five guys just didn’t equal out, and Amelia knew the girls were eating up the attention. Aiden had set his sights on a very feisty ZuZu. A match made in heaven, Amelia thought.