My Lady Highlande

by Nancy Lee Badger

  “Then we shall celebrate several reunions,” a voice shouted beside them.

  Izzy looked up. The brownie sat on Balfour, which meant he had visited her farm, again. Where was he when they had needed him? “Where have you been?”

  “I wanted to return yer beast to ye, now that ye have safely rescued yer kin.”

  “Thanks for returning my property. Now, get off the horse,” Bull yelled.

  “Don’t you mean my property?” a familiar voice said.

  Bull spun, and smiled. “My responsibility, Jake. Remember?”

  Jake nodded, and Izzy trained her attention on the handsome man. He was a neighbor, but they only passed in the parking lot, the times he ventured out to his blacksmithing shop in the barn. He was as dark-haired as Bull, but he wore his long hair tied in a queue. His eyes were a darker blue than Bull’s icy glare. With a lean torso, the muscles along his arms were well defined, and rippled against his linen shirt, but his shoulders and thighs were not as brawny as his friend’s. Jake’s broad smile, and present company of armed warriors, made him almost unrecognizable as the blacksmith she knew.

  “Good to see ye, neighbor,” Izzy said. Would he remember she lived next door?

  “Miss MacHamish is it? I planned to visit your potions tent at the New England Highland Games, but I heard Dorcas Swann sent Bull to help pack it up.”

  Izzy turned her gaze on Bull. “Ye knew Dorcas Swann was going to close up shop? Why did ye keep this from me?”

  Bull’s cheeks reddened. “I never had a chance. The fire, remember?”

  “Excuse me, but will someone tell me why these people are on my land?” Laird Mackenzie, dressed head to toe in black leather, glared specifically at Jaden-Tog. The brownie slipped off Balfour and passed the reins to Izzy. He walked up to the laird’s horse, but two warriors moved their mounts, intercepting his progress.

  He laughed, then bowed low. “I be Jaden-Tog, and these folk are under my protection.”

  Jake and Marcus laughed.

  Bull pointed to Jaden-Tog. “He’s a magical creature. A brownie. You’d better heed his words.”

  Chaos erupted. The two warriors’ mounts reared, spilling the warriors to the ground. Jake and Marcus glared at the creature, but held their seats.

  “My apologies. I informed those mounts, that the little one is a brownie,” Rae whispered in Izzy’s ear.

  “ ‘Tis impolite to use yer power to cause such a reaction,” Izzy whispered, then turned away to check the old beast’s wound. “Jaden-Tog, ye healed Balfour’s injury?”

  “Who hurt my horse?” Jake asked, dismounting and joining Izzy.

  “The Sinclair laird, but it seems that Jaden-Tog has healed his wound.” Izzy patted the animal where she had last seen the deep slash.

  Jake turned to the brownie and offered his hand. “My thanks.”

  The brownie bowed, then shook hands.

  Izzy helped her cousin onto Balfour, then tried to figure out how to mount the beast. Two large hands grasped her by the waist, and lifted.

  Seated sideways, with her arms clasped safely around her cousin, she turned and glanced at Bull. He returned her gaze, with a pained look on his face. Was he jealous that she had chosen to ride with her cousin?

  As he walked away, she addressed the Mackenzie laird. “Please doona’ worry so. Jaden-Tog will na’ harm anyone. He promised. We need to get my cousin attended to.”

  The laird smiled, and nodded to his men. The mounted warriors headed toward the castle. Bull accepted a mount from one of the fallen warriors, who had chosen to ride back with another guard. The laird’s other fallen man leapt to his feet, but she had faith he would not try to stop them.

  Faith. A simple word for a situation that was anything but simple.

  She and Rae trotted next to Bull’s mount.

  “Once we have seen to our wounds and our empty bellies, we shall plan how to return ye home.”

  “To the farm?”

  She hesitated. Was he serious? “Nay, back to New England. Back to yer normal life.”

  Bull opened his mouth, as if to answer, then closed it.

  Izzy kicked her mount, and Balfour trotted toward the castle.

  While she hoped the sea air would help Rae overcome his near-death smoke inhalation, she shivered in the wind. Fresh sea air would help, and she had faith that whatever life Bull chose to lead, would be the best for both of them.

  As a stray image of a naked Bull filled her head, her nipples hardened. A longing so intense, made her eyes sting. A tear trickled down her cheek, but she could not let go of Rae’s waist, in order to wipe it away.

  “Are ye crying, dear cousin?” Rae asked.

  His soft words and serious concern opened a floodgate. She cried softly, and her tears dampened the back of his shirt, where she pressed her weary head. “ ‘Tis of no concern. I shall be well again. ‘Tis only that I am happy yer safe.”

  Arriving at the gate, guards waved them through. They slowed to a stop in the middle of the castle’s bailey. As she wiped the tears from her cheeks, a dozen armed warriors surrounded them.

  ***

  “Leave them alone!” Bull galloped toward Izzy and her cousin, but the armed Highland warriors surrounding them, ignored him. Several men were familiar, but they barely glanced his way. He had saved a stable boy during the fire, and had helped rebuild the structure, but these trained warriors’ eyes were narrowed with distrust.

  “Aye, release them,” boomed a voice behind Bull. Laird Marcus Mackenzie dismounted and threw his reins to a young boy. The warriors lowered their swords, and departed to wherever their duties lay.

  Impressive.

  He dismounted, and reached Izzy before she slid off Balfour. “Allow me.”

  She fell into his arms, then quickly attempted to disentangle herself. As she slid down his chest to the ground, her nipples beneath her thin shirt, brushed against his chest. With cheeks tinted pink with arousal, Izzy gazed up at him.

  “You must be cold,” Bull said.

  Izzy glanced down, at what Bull would call the evidence of her arousal, then at her cousin. Was she worried he had noticed?

  Rae chuckled.

  When she glared up at both men, Bull bit his tongue, and concentrated on helping Rae. The man was too pale for a farmer who worked out of doors. His labored breathing was worrisome, so Bull helped him dismount. Rae staggered, and Izzy grabbed him around the waist.

  “We must care for him inside the castle, but have not been invited, nor introduced.”

  “Jake will help get us in.”

  She turned and spoke to his friend, who strode toward their little group. “What about Jaden-Tog? Is he welcome? He has earned our thanks.”

  “I will thank him for bringing you and my horse to safety,” Jake said, “but where is the little man?”

  CHAPTER 22

  Bull shrugged. “Good riddance. He’s a ball of mischief. Izzy, I mean Isobel MacHamish, won’t go in the castle, until you present her and her cousin, Rae Wilson, to Marcus.”

  “Right. My neighbor lives by Old World rules. I had a hunch about her origins. Just a minute,” Jake said. He turned to a stable boy, tossing him Balfour’s reins, “Take him to a clean stall, and see to his comfort.”

  As the young lad tugged the reins, Balfour snorted. Jake slapped his horse on the rear. “Be good, you old fart.”

  The boy giggled.

  “If it’s okay with you, Marcus, my friends would like to be introduced to you, and your lady.”

  The laird approached the group and handed his broadsword to an older boy. “ ‘Tis fine, Jake, and I see yer brave friend could not stay away.”

  Bull straightened.

  Izzy raised an eyebrow.

  “Laird Mackenzie, this is Isobel MacHamish and her cousin, Rae Wilson.”

  “We rescued him from a fire and…” Bull’s throat clamped shut at the memory of another fire. A burning barn, and a collapsing roof, was a memory he prayed would fade, and soon.

&n
bsp; “We will have him attended to, and ye as well, Lady Isobel.” Marcus took her hand and brushed a kiss an inch above her knuckles, while his eyes flicked over her ripped and dirty gown.

  “What are ye doing? Flirting with another lady, husband?”

  Marcus stepped back, then gazed lovingly at the petite blonde woman he had married. She stood with arms crossed, at the top of the castle’s stairs. “I see my wife is here to welcome ye, as well.”

  Jake choked back a laugh.

  Bull smiled. Marcus loved his wife, and was simply acting the gentleman, but jealousy rushed headlong to his gut.

  He had more to worry about, it seemed.

  Marcus touched my Izzy.

  Marcus glanced toward Jake. “I am glad yer friend has returned to us. Many a lady shall smile, come suppertime.”

  “Thank you,” Bull said, already feeling the heat coloring his cheeks, watching how Izzy’s mouth dropped open.

  Marcus chuckled. “Ye are welcome to our home at anytime. Bull, ‘tis nice to see ye so soon.”

  Bull pointed to a stack of fallen tree trunks, a pile of large, cut stones, and various other weapons sitting beneath a crude lean-to. “What’s all this?”

  “Ye doona’ recognize the tools from the festival, where we celebrated yer friend’s wedding? As I recall, ye bested all my men during the many events. Yer prowess with turning the caber is legendary.”

  Bull nodded.

  “Are ye hungry? I believe we be roasting a haunch of venison, with yer name on it.”

  When Bull’s stomach growled, everyone laughed.

  His cheeks warmed enough to make him want to guzzle a keg of cold ale, so he followed his host and his companions, as they headed for the castle stairs. Not one, but two beautiful women stood at the top. Their smiles blazed.

  “Jake, you’re a very lucky man.” Bull slapped his friend on the back. Jake seemed calmer. Not frowning, like his normal surly self. Marriage had put a definite spring in his step, and he appeared to accept the huge changes in his life.

  “You’ll get no argument from me. Skye has turned my life upside down, and I cannot regret even one minute of it.”

  “Skye? ‘Tis Skye Gunn!” Izzy waved, and Skye ran down the steps and into her open embrace.

  Bull stepped beside Rae, in case he needed help getting up the stairs. While they watched the women hug, the tiny woman’s raven hair flared out behind her, and her wide blue eyes filled with glee.

  “Isobel? Praise the mother!” Skye said, pushing back, “why are ye here? I thought ye and Dorcas had traveled far and away.”

  “Aye, but magic brought us back.”

  “Can we take this reunion inside?” Bull asked, rubbing his empty stomach, “because if I’m this hungry, Rae must be famished.”

  Izzy nodded, and returned to her cousin’s side.

  Remembering the fine table Lady Fia served, Bull bounded up the stairs two at a time, and grabbed the laird’s young wife in a playful hug. She had knotted her golden hair on top of her head, and her eyes sparkled. She was happy and welcoming, as always, but he hated to intrude on her, again. He also didn’t want to talk about magic.

  “We missed ye, Bull. Our servants have been frowning since ye left,” she said.

  “The female ones, I be guessing,” Izzy muttered. Her glare drilled into his back. He’d forgotten about the castle’s bevy of female servants. A few flirted with him during his last brief visit, and one or two offered to share his bed. Out of his element, after a sorcerer had trapped him in this time, he had kept himself celibate.

  “I am sorry to intrude like this, but I’ve brought you an injured man, and a woman in need of a bath.”

  “Bull!” Izzy glared at him, then tugged at her skirt’s ripped hem.

  “We need food, shelter…”

  “And clothes?” Fia giggled and pointed at his bare chest.

  “Right. Izzy can vouch for her cousin.”

  Fia waved the newcomers inside. Izzy helped her cousin up the stairs, but Bull stepped in to help, at the top.

  “You go inside the great room, and make a comfortable place for him. He needs food and water, then we’ll get him a bed.”

  Izzy nodded, picked up her skirts, and strode ahead. Grabbing a few pillows from the floor, she ran up the steps to the top of the dais, and stood next to a large wooden chair. She padded the hard oak chair with the pillows. “Sit him here.”

  Bull assisted Rae up the two stairs that separated the main floor from the platform where the laird’s table stood, then carefully settled him in the chair. A pitcher of fresh water and several tankards appeared. Izzy poured with a shaking hand, passing one to her cousin. When the second tankard wobbled in her grasp, sloshing water over the side, Bull closed the distance.

  “Izzy? What’s wrong?”

  Setting the tankard and pitcher on the table, she walked into his chest.

  Surprised, and slightly flattered, he circled her shoulders, and caressed her loose hair. Stunned that she would show her feelings toward him in public, he glanced at the others entering the great room.

  Fia called for food and ale. Smirks filled Marcus, Fia, and Skye faces and Jake’s eyebrows rose, but Bull’s glare made him turn away. His smart friend buttoned his lip, putting his arm around Skye.

  When Izzy’s tears dampened his naked chest, Bull’s concern heightened.

  “Please tell me what’s wrong, sweetheart.” When she didn’t answer him, he bit his tongue. Now was not the time to force the issue. She was safe.

  That’s all that matters.

  ***

  “Isobel! Do ye have something to share with the rest of us?” Fia asked Izzy, as she sat on the dais beside her husband. Without waiting for her answer, she whispered orders to her people. The smell of food made Izzy’s mouth water.

  Twisting out of Bull’s arms, she wiped a stray tear from her cheek with the back of her hand. She was a woman of the Scottish Highlands, and emotions were best kept locked away. Jake whispered something in his wife’s ear, and she shoved him away. Jake grinned, as he fell backward into a nearby chair. Their romantic banter was tender expressions between a couple who married, against all odds.

  Showing emotion, and embracing a man in public, was not prudent for an unmarried woman like Izzy. Although Skye had wed a man from Bull’s time, Izzy’s parents had raised her with sixteenth-century values.

  Skye walked over to Izzy, pulling her into an embrace. While Bull’s touch filled her with desire, her hug was soothing. “I appreciate yer concern, Lady Skye.”

  “Ye must call me Skye. I am merely a wife, now.”

  “I know ye be more, but yer secret is safe.”

  Skye blushed, but Rae must have heard. He sat up, leaning forward in his chair. The women stepped a bit closer.

  “My cousin, here, has a gift,” Izzy said, patting Rae’s shoulder.

  Skye glanced at Rae, who nodded and said, “ ‘Tis a tale for later, but I do know that others want such power. ‘Tis why I was attacked, and captured.”

  Izzy stroked his cheek, and glanced at Skye. “Doona’ go reading anything into what ye witnessed. I am verra’ tired, and Bull offered a shoulder, ‘tis all.”

  Skye’s right eyebrow lifted, but she was intuitive enough to keep quiet. She handed Izzy a cloth. “Wipe your tears away, and help me feed this odd group of warriors.”

  Izzy inhaled deeply, and nodded. More than one tear had trickled down in the last few moments, but she could cry tonight, alone in her room. In a warm bed; an empty bed. She should not, and would not allow Bull to compromise her, further.

  Not in front of my friends.

  Besides, he was right. They hailed from different worlds. He spoke about how much he wanted to return to the safety of New England while her farm, and her cousin, needed her here.

  Servers set trenchers, overflowing with roast venison, rabbit stew, and crusty bannock on the tables. When a servant placed a bowl of steamed carrots within reach, the orange vegetable made tears sting the
back of her eyes. She had shared carrots, and a bucket of ale, with a man for whom she had come to care.

  “Are ye ill, cousin?” Rae settled a warm hand on her forearm, and Izzy’s thoughts returned to the present. Fed and warm, her cousin’s face glowed with regained health. His eyes drooped with weariness, but he was strong and free.

  “I still doona’ understand, Rae. Why did The Sinclair no’ torture me with the knowledge ye sat in a cell nearby?”

  “ Ahh…’tis hard to explain my luck. I made the men who seized me believe I was only a caretaker. They asked many questions, and…I lied.”

  “Did they attack ye for yer gift?”

  “Aye, but they were also looking for ye. They knew ye had returned from yer trip.”

  Izzy sat back in her chair, and glanced around the great room. If The Sinclair had heard she had returned, there had to be a spy in their midst. How else would her abductor know to snatch her from the meadow?

  “Jaden-Tog.”

  “The brownie? I thought he was yer friend?” Rae said.

  “Aye, but not at first. He tried to kill me on the Sinclair laird’s orders. He failed, then interrupted the bastard when he attempted to ravish me, in the castle.”

  Rae’s gaze darkened, and he muttered a curse under his breath.

  Izzy smiled at his anger. Here was a man who cared for her, for no other reason than she was kin. He would inherit her land if she perished.

  “Rae, why did ye agree to care for my farm? What is in it for ye?”

  He blinked, as if surprised at the question. When his eyes dropped to the half-empty tankard of ale in his hands, she bit her bottom lip. Was he hiding something?

  “I loved my family, ye know this, but when my older brother took over the family farm, I was adrift.” He laughed.

  She waited, since she did not know what was so funny.

  Rae took a swig, then said, “Adrift ‘tis an apt description. I tried fishing, but it ‘twas too painful.”

  “Ye were injured?”

  “Nay.” Again, his eyes would not meet hers.

  Sitting forward, she took the tankard from his hands and set it on the table. Covering his hands with hers, she ignored the voices drifting around them, and focused on him, alone.