Ronan: A Highlander Romance (The Ghosts of Culloden Moor Book 37)

by Diane Darcy

  “Maybe we’ll have to get you out there sometime.”

  Something was in his gaze, pain, maybe? All she knew was that it stopped her, and she looked up at him.

  Unexpectedly, he bent down and kissed her, quick, and slightly unsure, his lips grazing hers with such tenderness it almost bordered on reverence.

  When he pulled back, and his cheeks turned red in an adorable blush, she grinned up at him, her heart fluttering.

  He took her hand and held it in his own, and they started walking again.

  The kiss had been … sweet.

  Holding hands was sweet too.

  Okay, she wasn’t going to be taking the guy home anytime soon, but she wasn’t an idiot either. She wasn’t going to say no to a sweet, platonic romance with someone she was so attracted to.

  Not until, and unless, he did something to mess it up, which men usually did. Not that she was untrusting, — okay, she was slightly untrusting, — a man would have to prove himself to her in order for her to be with him. In her opinion, love didn’t last, but attraction could last for a little while. It could be fun.

  So, for now, she’d just enjoy the day and see where that took them.

  Chapter 4

  He could feel the steady drum of his heart in his chest.

  He’d kissed a girl.

  He’d not seen that coming when the witch had sent him here.

  And she’d let him. Not only let him, but grinned up at him afterward, eyes clear of anger, fear, or revulsion.

  Her hand was soft within his own, and she didn’t seem to be in a hurry to pull it away.

  The air smelled cleaner, crisper somehow.

  He realized he’d thrust his chest out and was walking with an arrogance and certainty he’d not felt earlier when he’d been so unsure of his part here.

  Surely, it was Ashley he was supposed to help? He’d felt an instant connection upon seeing her, an attraction. And even if she wasn’t the one, he was going to stick with her for as long as he could.

  He’d be a fool not to.

  Ronan was many things, but never a fool.

  They stepped back on the bus and held hands again as Ashley pretended to watch the scenery go by.

  Okay, she did actually look, but for the most part, was enjoying the impromptu romance that had risen between the two of them. Why, exactly, had he kissed her?

  She vacillated between feeling ridiculous — after all, everyone here knew they’d just met — and as excited as a schoolgirl with her first crush.

  She was an idiot.

  But, an idiot holding hands with the most attractive, sweetest guy she’d ever met in her life.

  She saw no reason not to enjoy the opportunity that presented itself. It would be over soon enough, anyway. Plus there was the added fact that passionate kissing for a full minute burned around 26 calories. So…

  Monica occasionally threw amused glances over her shoulder, pointedly looking at their clasped hands, but Ashley only winked and offered up her best Mona Lisa smile.

  Before long, they pulled into the town of Tranent, a charming place with historic buildings, a statue, clock, and a pretty little church. Stores lined the main street inviting shoppers to browse through the big picture windows. The bus pulled to a stop in front of an old-fashioned pub.

  Logan stood at the front of the bus again. “Now, I hope ye’re all hungry, as this happens to be one of the best pubs in Scotland. Tis also the most haunted.” He looked at them all meaningfully, nodded his head, and grinned. “Well, one of them, anyhow. We’re sure to come across a few more in our travels, I expect.”

  His appreciative audience laughed.

  “Keep your eyes out for The Green Lady, who is said to wander about looking for her murdered love. Murdered by her other true love, so the story goes.”

  More laughter.

  “Follow me and we’ll have some excellent Scottish cooking. For those of you wanting to try haggis for the first time, well, good luck with that.”

  Again, everyone laughed and Ashley turned to Ronan. “Hungry?”

  “Starving, lass.”

  They grinned at each other, then turned away, both of them feeling bashful, apparently. They waited their turn, walked down the aisle, down the stairs, and into the tall brick building with a sign hanging out front.

  It was darker inside, with a mirrored bar and a collection of bottles, and tables strewn about. Old pictures lined the walls, some paintings, some photos, and tall yellow flowers decorated the tables.

  “Ashley, up here!” She looked up to see more tables up top, and Garth and Monica saving a spot for the two of them.

  With a glance at the long bar, and over at the shelf of souvenirs for sale, Ashley headed to the staircase, with Ronan right behind.

  When they were all seated at the table for four, Monica shot her a grin. “I’m glad you found someone to share your seat with.”

  Ashley’s mouth curved, but she couldn’t help feeling a bit shy. Well, why wouldn’t she? In the space of hours, she’d found herself a boyfriend.

  The waitress came over to take their order. A pretty, thin blonde with an easy smile, her hair was pinned up in a messy bun. The moment she set eyes on Ronan, she couldn’t seem to look away.

  Ashley felt a small spurt of jealousy. Only a small one, but it was enough to reinsert her natural good humor and she was able to grin along with Monica and Garth, as the woman practically slobbered all over the man. “Can I take your order?”

  The woman placed hand on hip, and sent Ronan a flirty smile. “For you, I’ll make sure the cook makes anythin’ you like. Anythin’ at all.”

  “What about me?” Garth spoke up.

  The waitress chuckled, turning her attention to the rest of them before looking at Ronan again. “I’ll even include your friends in that fine offer.”

  They were all grinning now, all except Ronan, who narrowed his eyes at the woman.

  Ashley casually covered Ronan’s hand with her own, and after a startled glance in her direction, he grasped it.

  “What do you suggest?” Ashley asked.

  The woman looked at the hand covering Ronan's, and smiled good-naturedly. “Look at you American girls, coming in here and nabbing up our finest.” She gave Ashley a mock glare.

  Ashley smiled, shrugged, and said, “And what about you? With that cute Scottish accent of yours, you’re not snatching up the American boys as they make their way through?”

  She threw back her head and laughed. “All right, ye’ve got me there. So, what will it be? The shepherd’s pie is a favorite, as is the meatloaf and mashed potatoes.”

  “I’ll have both,” Ronan inserted.

  “Shepherd’s pie for me,” Ashley said.

  The waitress took Garth and Monica’s orders before giving Ashley a wink, and heading to the next table.

  Monica stood. “I’m going to the restroom. I mean the loo.” She said the word with relish.

  Ashley stood. “Count me in.”

  She tugged at Ronan’s hand, he clung for a moment, and she had the strangest impression that he was nervous, and she was his lifeline.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  As per usual, she maneuvered her pack onto her back, but Ronan held out his hand.

  “I will watch it for ye. Ye’ve no need to worry.”

  She couldn’t help it. It flashed through her head that Ronan could be a corporate spy, sent to steal her laptop.

  A glance at her face, and he immediately snatched his hand back and turned away, but not before she’d seen his hurt expression and the tense set of his shoulders. His chin lifted, his lip pressed tight and he looked stubborn, as if daring someone to harm him.

  Again, the thought flashed through her that he could be an actor, and the rational part of her urged her to move on and ignore what had just happened. But the sensitive, feminine part of her could not stand to see him hurt. As much as she wanted to shrug it off and move away, she couldn’t.

  She let the pack sink off
her back. “Actually, if you don’t mind, I’d really appreciate it if you’d watch this. You’ll keep a close eye on it, won’t you?”

  He turned back and eyed her expression, which she tried to keep as neutral as possible.

  By degrees he relaxed and slowly reached for her pack. “I’ll guard it with my life, lass.”

  Aww. People just didn’t say things like that. Half of her wanted to say he’d better, and the other half wanted to melt into a puddle at his feet.

  Letting go of the pack she turned casually away to join Monica but with every step she took, every chair she wended her way around, her heart started pounding faster, and she fought the urge to look over her shoulder. The work on her laptop represented a year of her life.

  Garth was with him, and if Ronan tried to take her pack and leave, surely, he’d alert her?

  She finally couldn’t stand it and turned to check, to make sure Ronan was still there, that her pack was safe.

  The man wasn’t even looking at her. Rather, he had her backpack on his lap, one heavy arm across it, as he contemplated the crowd with suspicion, as if waiting for an attack he was determined to prevent.

  She let out a breath and relaxed.

  She was going to trust the man, wasn’t she? She was going to trust the connection that flared between them.

  If it turned out she was an idiot making the worst mistake of her life, then she could live to regret it.

  But what if trusting the man, trusting this attraction and pull between them turned into something better?

  She’d certainly be glad she hadn’t ruined it with ill-timed distrust.

  She’d trusted him.

  He’d always been good enough to hold the front line in any battle, to carry the extra weight of weapons, or to hoist a battering ram.

  But still, he’d heard the whispers of bear, wolf, boar and knew what they’d meant. Berserker. Strong, but ultimately untrustworthy.

  Garth sat across from him eating a bowl of snacks as Ronan scanned the room for infidels, for any threats against his lady’s possessions.

  He’d had years to consider his behavior both in life and in death and had long since recognized that some of the things he’d done, some of his poor behavior, had been a direct result of hurt feelings.

  Years after their deaths, Robb Robertson had spent some time discussing the situation with him.

  He now believed that perhaps he’d tattooed himself, kept his hair long, braided, and unkempt, his expression cruel and sneering in an effort to drive off those he felt would not care for him anyway.

  Robb insisted he had a soft inner core that protected itself from injury, far better than his muscle hardened exterior.

  But then Robb liked to watch the telly along with the guards, picking up tips on behavior and remedies.

  On the moor, one did what one could to pass the time, and Robb wasn’t the only one with an interest in the inner workings of the soul, but he’d been the most ardent student, and liked to discuss such things in recent years.

  Still, for the first time, Ronan felt the man’s words might have merit. When he’d offered to watch Ashley’s possessions, for a moment he’d feared she reject him out of distrust, and he could feel his insides tightening to protect … his heart?

  When she’d given over her trust, accepted him, it had been such an incredible relief, and his heart seemed to fill instead. To fill with Ashley.

  A lady had never put her trust in him before.

  That she would, lifted his heart and left him reeling.

  So, perhaps Robb had the right of it, after all. If he did have a warm, soft center, Ashley had just found it, and claimed it for her own.

  He glanced around the room once more, as he awaited his lady’s return.

  He couldn’t wait to see her gratitude and trust. A stepping stone, surely, toward better things to come?

  Chapter 5

  The hallway was crowded with both regulars and ladies from their tour.

  Times like this, standing in line for her turn at one of the two stalls, she resented men.

  She glanced at the men’s restroom, which did not have a line headed out into the hall, and wondered if they had a lock inside the door.

  She was tempted to check and see, but then the line moved forward and she lost her nerve.

  Monica turned to whisper, “You know, I think you’re a cow, don’t you?”

  Some of the tension left her in a rush, and she grinned at Monica. “Meow, meow.”

  “Maybe so, and I’ll sheath my claws, but you’d better be on the lookout for one of those for me.”

  Ashley laughed. “What about Garth?

  Monica stifled a giggle, and then leaned forward to whisper in Ashley’s ear. “He’s awesome and all, and if you say anything, I’ll deny it, but if you get the Hulk, then I’m holding out for Thor, or Captain America. I’m not picky, I’ll take either one.”

  They were both still giggling when it was their turn in the restroom. Within minutes, she was back out in the hall again, moving past pictures on the wall, and heading to the table.

  The moment she spotted Ronan, her backpack still on his lap, she relaxed, the tension draining out of her.

  Ronan looked up to see her approach, and smiled at her, pride in his expression.

  She nodded at Garth as she slid onto the sturdy wooden seat beside Ronan. “Thank you,” she said as she took the backpack from him and set it between their two seats.

  He straightened his shoulders, gave her a nod, and she felt that something had changed between them.

  For herself, she’d trusted the man, and he’d proven worthy of that trust.

  She sort of felt like a crazy person, because if she was honest, she was admiring his character because she was thinking in terms of being able to keep him.

  Which was ridiculous! They’d just met. Still, every couple had a first meet. So why not take one baby step at a time, and who knew what could come of it? She might not get to keep him, but this was a fantasy vacation, after all, so she’d at least enjoy the fantasy for as long as possible.

  As the waitress cleared their table, Logan moved through the pub and good-naturedly started to herd the crowd back onto the bus again.

  Ronan had been doubtful earlier, but he was now absolutely convinced Ashley was the reason he’d been sent here. If not, well, Soni could take it up with him later.

  They boarded the bus again, and the driver, who’d been bid to wait and protect the bus, was just finishing his own meal. Ronan approved the extra precaution after the earlier happenings.

  He wanted to assure Ashley that, with him there, she’d be safe, but found himself tongue-tied once again as he gestured her to board first, holding out his hand to steady her.

  When her hand clutched his, he helped her inside, and couldn’t help but feel a major rush of satisfaction.

  Her willingness to be touched by him signaled her acceptance. In fact, even with his rough appearance, other than a few wary glances thrown his way upon occasion, everyone seemed very accepting. Beyond his comrades, something he’d not felt in his past life.

  Once they were settled again, the bus started on its way as Logan stood up front. “All right, ye’ve been well fed, and I hope ye’ve had a bit of a rest and are ready to go again.”

  The crowd murmured their assurances.

  “Good, good. Because, up next, we are about to visit what is probably the second most haunted battlefield in all of Scotland!”

  A chill of foreboding ran up Ronan’s spine as the crowd quieted at the man’s words. He glanced around to see anticipation upon their faces, but all he felt was dread.

  “As it’s so close, I’ll tell ye the story as we drive. So, do you know why it’s the second most haunted battlefield in all of Scotland?” He glanced around as if waiting for an answer, then continued. “Tis because one of the bloodiest battles in Scotland’s history was fought there.”

  The bus took a turn and Logan held onto the bars at his side to keep
his balance. “We’re going to Prestonpans.

  Ronan felt the blood drain from his face. He’d never, in life or in death, desired to go back to that place.

  Logan continued. “In 1745, there was a battle fought there between two nations.” He continued to talk, but Ronan couldn’t hear him for the memories blasting inside his head.

  The man got it right about the battle being bloody. They’d only used their muskets once before dropping them to the ground, and then using their broadswords and axes to hack, stab, slice off limbs, and even decapitate.

  “The battle was fought for control of Edinburgh, and even for Scotland itself. The two big advantages the British Army had were their guns and dragoons. Bonnie Prince Charlie’s army was composed entirely of infantry at this time, so the British Army, led by Sir John Cope, set up camp at Prestonpans believing themselves superior and safe.”

  As Ronan tried to focus on the words, he relived the battle in his mind, a flash of memory, of blood, pain, horror, filling his vision.

  “The Jacobite army immediately took to the high ground. But they soon found that they could not charge the British army because there was a bog between them, and no way around it. Neither had the advantage, and neither could attack. A couple of shots were fired, but nothing came of it.”

  If only it had stayed there.

  “Until, that is, a local man showed the Jacobite commanders a little-known path that enabled them to go around the east side undetected. Early that morning, the Jacobites surprised the government forces and the deadly canons only had time to fire once. The grapeshot barely slowed the Jacobite army down.”

  Logan shook his head. “The British forces were quickly overwhelmed by the swarming Jacobites and the result was horrific with arms, legs, and heads chopped off.”

  Ronan felt dizzy as he relived the events laid out before them.

  “The cavalry soon dissipated, leaving the infantry exposed and the Jacobites cut them to pieces. The entire thing was over in fifteen minutes. The regular British forces, defeated by farmers, shepherds and the like. At that point in our history, Scotland was controlled by rebels.”