She thought about it for some time and finally decided she had at least a fifty-fifty chance of finding the spot again. It couldn’t be too far, because they’d sent people back to collect the bodies of the men that had been ambushed there and that hadn’t taken more than a few hours.
The fact that the castle seemed to be a communal thing wouldn’t make it easy to get slip away, but, really, it was a lot like living in a dorm and she’d sneaked out of the dorm and back in again several times without getting caught.
She hit a snag there. She’d always sneaked out of the dorm at night while everybody was sleeping. She could probably manage that here, too. The problem was, not only did she not want to be wandering around the woods in the dark, but she wasn’t going to be able to see well enough at night to find the place. She might find it in broad daylight.
Of course, there was always the possibility that Sean might be willing to take her back to the spot once he found out he couldn’t get any money for her, but that might take a while and the fairy ring might not be there by then.
She decided to go for it. At the very least, even if she couldn’t get up the nerve to try the ritual again because of her anxiety that she might end up some where worse, she needed to find the spot in case of an emergency.
She’d have to go during the day, though, and somehow she doubted they’d just let her walk out.
A lot of them were at the funeral right now, though, she realized suddenly.
She ought to try to disguise herself so that she’d blend in and not be so noticeable. There were lots and lots of people living in and around the castle, but everybody knew everybody and they were bound to notice strangers, especially somebody like her.
She thought about it for several minutes and remembered something her grandmother had said more than once. "Men never pay any attention to an old fat woman unless she gets in their way. It’s like being invisible."
She couldn’t see how she could manage the ‘old’ part, but the dress they’d given her had belonged to a stout woman. There wasn’t a lot in the room to work with. Finally, she picked up Sean’s shirt, which still lay where she’d discarded it, and tied it around her middle.
Unfortunately, Sean didn’t seem to have a very extensive wardrobe and the few things she found in the chest were heavy woolen clothes. He’d said the bed was stuffed with straw, she remembered suddenly, and moved to it, found the seam where it had been sewn together and pulled it apart.
The straw was not at all fresh, but she finally decided the smell would help to repel anybody that got a little suspicious and stuffed the shirt with it. There was no mirror, unfortunately. She looked down at herself critically and, for the first time in her adult life, realized that her freaky breasts were actually an asset. With the roll under them, she looked grotesquely fat.
Her face didn’t though.
Movie prop! She remembered hearing once that Marlon Brando had stuffed his cheeks with cotton … or something like that ... to get the jowls for his part as the Godfather.
No way was she stuffing some of that stinking straw in her mouth!
Finally, after digging around through his things, she found an old shirt that was worn badly enough she managed to tear off a couple of small strips. She felt guilty about it. Sean was probably going to be pissed, but she doubted he’d be anymore pissed about it than he would be at her escape.
Stuffing a small piece in each cheek, she felt her face and decided it looked round enough to fit the body she’d made up. All she needed to do now was look as dirty and unkempt as the other women, and that part was easy. Dipping her hands in the water in the bowl on the table near the bed, she rubbed her hands on the floor and smeared the mud up her arms, around her neck and over her cheeks. When it had dried, she bent over and ruffled her fingers through her hair to achieve the matted tangle do.
Deciding she was as ready as she was ever going to be, she tiptoed to the door and put her ear to it, listening. When she heard nothing, she eased the door open a crack and looked up and down the hallway outside.
Seeing no one, she tiptoed into the hall and closed the door carefully behind her. It was a shame she couldn’t lock it from the outside. That way, they would’ve had to break the door down to discover she wasn’t in the room.
Shrugging, she made her way down the stairs cautiously. She was pretty sure, once she could get to the ground floor she wouldn’t look suspicious, but they might look at her more closely if they caught her coming down the stairs.
She was in luck. She managed to get all the way down before she even saw a sign of anyone else. She averted her face when she saw the boy coming along the passage from another part of the castle, but he passed her without even glancing at her.
Sighing with relief, Chloe hurried outside and headed for the gates.
Chapter Nine
Chloe hadn’t made it half way across the frigging yard when she felt her ‘belly’ start slipping. "Shit!" She bent over, glanced around surreptitiously, then slipped one arm under the sagging mass and waddled a little faster. She breathed a sigh of relief when she managed to make it through the gates unchallenged. Unfortunately, it was still a long, long way before she reached the woods and she could feel the tie around her waist coming loose.
"Are ye ill, lass?"
The voice went through Chloe like an electric shock. It sounded an awfully lot like Sean. She didn’t know whether it was just the brogue, or if it really was him, but she didn’t dare look up. Instead, she hunched over, looped her other arm around her ‘belly’ and shuffled a little faster.
Her arm was gripped.
Chloe threw a wide eyed look in the direction of the man who’d just accosted her. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or further unnerved when she saw that it wasn’t Sean. The man looked younger than Sean, leaner, but his face looked uncomfortably familiar. "Wha?" she gasped around the wads of fabric she’d stuffed in her cheeks.
"Ye look likely to drop the babe at any moment. Shall I help you to the mid-wife?" he asked, his face wrinkled in concern.
Chloe blinked at him blankly. Babe?
"Ian! I’d not expected ya before the morrow!"
That voice was definitely Sean’s. A knee weakening jolt went through Chloe as she heard him striding toward them. "Nay," she muttered trying to imitate their speech patterns. Breathless from both effort and fright, she jerked her arm from his slackened grip. As the men fell to pounding each other in welcome, she hoisted her load a little higher and took off, trying to put as much distance between herself and them as possible while they were doing the male bonding thing and busy trying to beat each other to death.
She heard them discussing something about the capture of a Monroe, but her heart was pounding so loudly in her ears, and their brogues were so thick when they spoke to each other that it wasn’t really possible to follow the conversation.
Not that she had any interest in it.
Then Ian, the good samaritan asshole, said something about ‘the lass’. Chloe offered up a prayer to the gods, fighting the urge to make a dash for the woods as she heard them striding toward her.
She didn’t have a lot of time to decide whether to go with her instincts, or try to brazen it out. Abruptly, a hand closed around either elbow, jerking her to a halt as the men surrounded her. Unfortunately, it also broke her grip on her ‘belly’. Sean’s shirt landed between her feet, straw spewing out in every direction.
She looked up to see that both men were staring blankly at the mound of straw.
Sean looked up first, surprise giving way to suspicion and finally recognition. She gaped at him while his face slowly turned an angry red, trying to think of a good explanation.
"That’s my best shirt," he growled. "What do ya think you’re doin’, lass?"
Chloe smiled at him a little weakly and said the first thing that popped into her mind. "April Fool!"
Sean’s eyes narrowed.
"What’s wrong with her face?" Ian demanded, glaring at his brothe
r. "Ye’ve not harmed the lass?"
Sean looked outraged. "I’ve never laid my hand on a lass in my life!"
"Somebody did," Ian ground out suspiciously.
Oh the temptation to set them at each other’s throat and make her getaway! Reluctantly, Chloe spat the wads of cloth into her hand.
Ian looked at her in surprise for several moments, then his lips twitched. A gleam of suppressed laughter entered his eyes.
Sean was not amused. Catching her around the waist, he hoisted her over his shoulder. Chloe’s surprise lasted until her stomach came down on his shoulder, knocking the breath out of her momentarily. When she regained it, she twisted around, grabbed a handful of his hair and bit down on his ear.
He yelped and dropped her. Scrambling to her feet, Chloe made a belated attempt to dash for the woods. Ian stepped in front of her, blocking her path. She whirled, only to find Sean directly behind her. "Bullies!"
Sean grabbed her in a bear hug. This time, however, he didn’t make the mistake of tossing her over his shoulder.
She kneed him before she thought better of it.
Fortunately for both of them she wasn’t tall enough to incite him to murder. He was very displeased, however, at her effort. Leaning toward her until they were almost nose to nose, he ground out, "I’ve never laid my hand on a lass before, but fer you I might be tempted to make an exception. If ya bite me again, I’ll tan that luscious bottom of yours."
Cowed, at least temporarily, Chloe ceased struggling, but gave him a sultry look, wiggling her brows at him suggestively. "Oh, baby, spank me! Do me good!" she purred.
Sean turned as red as a ripe apple, flicked a horrified glance at his brother and decided to ignore the provocation. Grasping her around her upper arm, he hauled her beside him as he strode back toward the castle.
Ian fell into step on her other side. "I’m Sean’s brother, Ian."
Chloe looked up at him, but as irritated as she was with Sean, Ian seemed both friendly and kind. He also happened to be gorgeous. She smiled at him. "Chloe."
"A Monroe," Sean growled, giving his brother a warning look over Chloe’s head.
"I’m not really from Scotland," Chloe gasped a little breathlessly, shoving the shoulder of her gown up as it slipped down one arm.
"Have ya been ill, then? The gown doesn’t seem to fit ya."
"She was naked as the day she was born when I found her," Sean offered, smiling at her with grim satisfaction when she blushed and glared at him.
She lifted her nose at him and turned to Ian once more. "Apparently, clothes don’t travel through time. I guess it’s because they don’t belong back in time--but then I don’t either."
"Don’t pay her any mind. She’s a bit daft."
"You could always take me back to the circle where I came through and test it," Chloe offered craftily.
"I’ll send ya back ta yer kin once they pay the ransom and not a moment before then."
They’d reached the gates. Sean eyed the guard standing beside it, his expression eloquent of retribution, and marched through.
"I keep telling you, I’m not related to them. They’re not going to pay you for me. You might just as well go ahead and take me back to the fairy ring so I can try to go back home."
"Ye’ve a strange way o’ talkin’, lass, and that’s a fact," Ian offered.
"It’s my southern accent. I’m from Georgia."
"An’ where is this Georgia?"
"Don’t encourage her, Ian. The lass thinks she time traveled half way around the world and hundreds o’ years. Thinks she’s from the future and someplace called the Ewe S that’s supposed to be in the Americas."
Chloe favored Ian with a friendly smile. "You can tell I’m not from here, can’t you?"
"Are ya a witch, then?" Ian asked curiously.
Sean stopped abruptly. "Don’t be talkin’ daft, man!" he growled in a low voice. "Ye’ll have the religious nuts down on the lass before ya can spit!"
Ian reddened. "I hadna thought o’ that."
"Yer as bad as the lass! Whatever comes into yer mind comes out yer mouth without a thought ta the consequences."
Chloe looked from one man to the other. "It was the ale," she supplied.
Sean looked at her strangely for several moments, but finally, without saying anything else, dragged her inside, across the great hall and began tugging her up the stairs. "I’ll talk ta ya when I’ve settled our guest," he tossed at his brother over his shoulder.
"You’re going to lock me in?" Chloe gasped, outraged. "Like a … like a … prisoner?"
Sean rolled his eyes. "Ya are a prisoner, lass."
Chloe was silenced for several moments, but it didn’t last. "You didn’t lock me in before."
"Before ya tried to escape, ya mean?"
"I wasn’t escaping. I was trying to go home."
Sean dragged her into the room and closed the door. Then, to Chloe’s stunned surprise, he grasped her wrists, pushed her arms behind her and hauled her up against his chest. "If ya dinna consider yerself escapin’, I’d like to know why ya tried to disguise yerself."
That seemed unanswerable. Chloe merely stared up at him with her mouth open.
"I’m a patient man, lass, but dinna make the mistake, again, of thinkin’ ye’ve only ta twitch this luvly arse of yers ta twist me around yer finger," he ground out, manacling both her wrists in one hand and reaching down with his free hand to grip one cheek of her ass.
Chloe’s eyes widened. The breath rushed from her lungs as if he’d squeezed her chest instead of digging his fingers into the cleft of her ass. Her mouth went dry, partly from alarm and partly from the heat that rushed through her the moment he crushed her against him, when she felt his fingers teasingly near that part of her that still throbbed with memory of his possession. She licked her dry lips. "I didn’t think … I wasn’t trying to…."
"I ha’ a bit more ale than I should ha’ last night, lass, but nae so much I dinna remember well enough tha’ what happened between us was yer doin’. Yer a seductive witch, an’ tha’s a fact, but dinna be settin’ yer sights on Ian or ye’ll no’ be happy with the consequences, lass," he growled threateningly.
That accusation was as effective as a bucket of cold water. Anger instantly displaced awakening desire. "I was not trying to … to seduce Ian!" she said indignantly.
"Aye, ya were, but I’ll nae allow it."
This time Chloe gaped at him in outrage. "If you ask me, Ian looks old enough to decide things for himself."
His face hardened. "I dinna ask. I’ll hae yer word ye’ll nae be tryin’ ta work yer wiles on him or ye’ll nae be leavin’ this room again till yer kin arrive ta take ya off me hands."
Chloe glared at him, refusing to dignify his accusation by making promises not to do something she’d never had any intention of doing in the first place.
He studied her determined expression for several moments. Then, before she quite realized his intentions, he spun her around, pinning her to the wall behind her with his body. Reaching down, he grasped the skirt of her dress and dragged it up until it was bunched around her waist. Chloe stiffened as she felt cool air waft over her lower body. A hand skated along her thigh and then closed over one buttock, massaging. Instantly, her body responded to his touch. Heat flashed through her. Moisture gathered in her sex. Her heart began to race.
"Ye dinna give me yer word," he growled huskily against her ear.
It took Chloe several moments to figure out what he was talking about. Passion had already begun drugging her mind to clear thought. "Because it’s an insulting demand," she managed finally, but found she couldn’t summon more than a spark of the reviving anger she’d felt before.
He slipped his hand around her waist, skating his palm over her belly and tangling his fingers in the thatch of hair on her mound. Chloe clamped her thighs together.
"Because it’s insultin’? Or because he seems an easy mark ta ya?" he murmured, pushing his knee between her legs until Chloe yielded to
the pressure and parted her thighs for him. The moment she did, his hand slipped between her legs and his fingers found her, parting the petals of flesh around her sex with agonizing slowness. Chloe gasped as the tip of one finger found her clit, rubbing it in tight little circles. Dizziness swept through her. Her whole world narrowed, focusing on the sensations flooding through her from that one point.
He stopped as abruptly as he’d begun, waiting … For what, Chloe wondered vaguely? He’d asked her something. "Ian’s sweet. I was only trying to be friendly," she gasped.
"It’s yer … friendliness tha’s the problem, lass," he ground out. "I’ll have yer word, lass."
Irritation pierced her retreating passion. "You won’t," she muttered obstinately. Not that she’d had any intention of trying to seduce Ian. He was sweet, and he was a hunk besides, but she had no interest in him in that way, especially when she had only to look at Sean to become aroused.
He massaged her clit again, sending almost painful shafts of desire through her. Chloe bit her lip to keep from groaning, tried to ignore the rush of heat that made her belly clench painfully. "Yer an obstinate lass," he murmured near her ear.
A swarming horde of goose bumps rushed from her ear and down her neck as the moist heat of his breath brushed the sensitive flesh. He sucked the shell of her ear into his mouth. At the same time, he strummed his finger briskly against her clit. Chloe gave up the effort to contain the groan trying to burst from her chest.
"Yes, Sean," he murmured.
Chloe frowned, trying to figure out why she was reluctant to repeat the words, but she was so dizzy with desire she couldn’t think. She could only feel. "Yes, Sean."
He stopped abruptly, stepping away from her. Chloe leaned weakly against the wall, too stunned to figure out what had happened. Slowly, she turned to look at him. His face was drawn. The hand he lifted to comb his hair from his face, shook noticeably.
The Fairy Ring Page 7