by LAURA HARNER
If she stopped to consider that this was now her room, it would have been too much and she would start to cry again.
Tapestries suspended on long, moveable arms were pushed back from open windows. Cool air and sunshine poured in through the east-facing window. The room would continue to warm throughout the day from the window on the south wall.
There was a small fire in the hearth, and a large metal tub was placed behind a screen near the fire. The view from the windows was spectacular. The castle was situated on a rocky outcropping, high above crashing waves, and a sparkling steel blue ocean—the color of Gabhran’s eyes—stretched as far as she could see.
“Is the room to your liking?” the woman behind her asked.
Randi spun around to see a young woman her own age, with an armful of towels.
“Yes, thank you, it’s lovely.” Randi was mindful of Gabhran’s earlier warning to behave with dignity, and she didn’t want to upset anyone or anything until she had a plan.
“Would you like me to help you with washing your hair, miss? The pitchers are next to the tub.”
“No, thank you,” Randi said, “but could I have something to eat and drink?”
“Yes, miss, I have already placed a tray in the sitting area with tea and chocolate, and a selection of pastries. If you would tell me what you prefer I will fetch it straight away.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I was so carried away by the view, I completely missed this, I’m sure it’s fine. Thank you so much. And please, call me Randi, that’s short for Miranda.”
The young woman looked at her strangely, almost pityingly, for a moment before she replied, “I think the Laird would not be pleased if I were to speak to you so informally, however, I could call you Miss Miranda on occasion, if ‘tis but the two of us. My name is Lissa, and I will be the one to attend you, for the now.
“I will return in a while to remove the tray and empty the bath. Do you have a preference for which of the dresses you will wear to dine with the Laird tonight?”
“Pick whichever one you like best, Lissa.” Miranda shivered. “I would like to be alone for a while now, I think.”
“Aye, just knock on the door when you are ready for me to return and the guards will fetch me straight away. I have placed your day gown on the bed, and I will come to dress your hair when you are ready to prepare for dinner.”
“Knock? Guards? Am I confined to this chamber, then?”
“Aye, miss, we are to bring you what you need, and keep you in here until his Lordship returns. I am sorry, I assumed you knew.”
“It’s all right, Lissa, thanks,” Randi said on a sigh.
Lissa knocked on the door and the guards let her out, before locking Randi securely in her chamber. It wasn’t like she had anywhere to run, she thought morosely. She had many things to think about, but she pushed them firmly from her mind until she was bathed and fed.
When Miranda stepped from the tub, she wrapped herself in the sheet again and explored the breakfast tray Lissa had left behind. She poured herself a cup of tepid tea and nibbled on a pastry. Delicious.
She dressed in the rose-colored linen day gown that Lissa had placed on the bed. It fit as though it were custom made for her, which she supposed might have been the case. She sat in the window seat looking out over the ocean, knowing it was time to think about her circumstances. She’d put it off long enough.
****
By the gods, the woman was stunning. When her father had arrived a scant hour before the wedding was to start, Gabhran was sure she would be disfigured or uncomely, despite the man’s assurances at the negotiation. The ceremony was a mere formality, held in the chapel, and witnessed only by his own companion, Ian, and her father.
Once the ceremony was complete the gold had changed hands, and her father left her, along with the cart of her belongings. Ian had escorted her to her new chambers, adjacent to Gabhran’s and left her there to wait his pleasure.
Gabhran had been very drunk, and only Ian’s skillful nudges at appropriate times had gotten him through the dreadful exchange. He was chagrinned to admit he didna remember much of their first night together. He’d already known she was old, twenty and four. He had suspected her father was lying when he had promised she was untouched. Yet when he had awakened this morning, the lass was spread on his bed, a mass of golden hair spilled about her, he had spied the telltale blood upon her thighs and on his shaft.
By Danu, he’d gotten a bargain in this exchange, as long as she proved to be fertile.
He had hated the thought of marrying for the sole purpose of creating heirs, but if the family line was to continue, it was now up to him. It was a bitter thought. His elder brother, the Laird and Clan Chief, had been lost at sea two months past when his ship had failed to return. Gabhran, as younger brother, had been free from the burden of managing the estates, had never concerned himself with thoughts of succession or progeny.
Gabhran had always assumed his brother would live to a ripe old age, have many children, and pass the title to his eldest son. ‘Twas how it should have happened, would have happened if Robert the Bruce had not summoned his brother to travel to elicit support for the Scots in their fight for freedom.
Instead, Gabhran was hit with a sense of his own mortality, and the importance of leaving heirs to carry on the family name. He and Ian had put their heads together and finally decided the most expedient way to secure an appropriate woman to bear his children was to enter into negotiations with a land-rich, cash-poor family, whose bloodline would honor his own. Since there were many of the gentry who were cash poor, it did not take long to secure a wife.
The idea had worked well, except Gabhran had not counted on how it would chafe him to marry out of necessity, rather than love. Gabhran pushed his distaste for the process aside. He knew it was not a very auspicious beginning to a marriage, and he suspected there was more to the story of why she was so old and unwed. Her father said she was over particular and he’d tired of waiting.
Truth be told, of all of the offers he’d considered, he had deliberately selected the more mature woman. He hoped she would recognize the situation for what it was, a business arrangement, and not become overly emotional or attached. He had been engaged once before, and it ended badly when he’d discovered his intended naked in the stables. He’d not cared overmuch, except as it was a betrayal of his pride.
He knew he was not the marrying type. He was dark inside, filled with rage that was best left on the battlefield. There was no shortage of battles to fight in Scotia, and for as long as he could remember, he’d traveled from one to another. Now, with the death of his brother, he could no longer live so recklessly. He had a duty to uphold and he hated feeling bound by duty.
****
Lissa returned to help Randi dress, and fix her hair. The gown was a pale green silk that flattered the green flecks in her hazel eyes. Lissa cinched a gold fabric girdle around her waist that pushed her breasts up and together, creating an impressive cleavage. A medieval push up bra, Randi thought wryly. Black slippers adorned her feet.
She’d had all day to think and had a plan of sorts, and she reviewed her strategy while Lissa fussed with her hair. Marie had warned her on St. John’s Eve that Gabhran was close to being pulled into another time. Her cousin believed physical proximately would keep him grounded in the present, and the gris gris would keep the dark under control, for now.
Marie also told Randi that Gabhran was her destiny, and not to turn her back on him, and that the stakes for the world of magick were high. Unfortunately, Marie either wouldn’t or couldn’t tell her more. Randi had thought about her choices all that evening, and finally gave in to her desires and knocked on his door.
Their lovemaking had been better than any fantasy she’d ever had and when he’d showered her in his love, she believed that the Fates had indeed brought them together. He had been gentle, a thoughtful lover. He eased her through her first time, and held back until she’d asked him to make it harder and faste
r. Falling asleep in his arms had been heavenly. Waking with him this morning? Hell. The Fates must have been laughing their silly heads off, when they whisked her off with him.
It was all so confusing. Alysone’s claim of landing in an unknown reality had landed her in a mental hospital. Gabhran claimed the same thing had happened to him, that at different times, he’d gone to sleep, and awakened in a new reality. Marie had said it was all true. Gabhran had more memories than Alysone, yet he’d told Randi that his memories were incomplete. The memories were often helped by notes he found soon after he’d been pulled to a new life.
Although he’d written a letter, Randi wasn’t sure where it was. He hadn’t been wearing his gris gris this morning, and she didn’t know if it had been pulled back with them or remained somewhere in the future. This Gabhran was clearly fully possessed by the darkness that her Gabhran had fought against. So she had to be the one to tell him the truth, and she knew full-well this conversation was not going to go well for her.
This Gabhran was determined that she have children, but she didn’t know why. She also knew he was not willing to woo her, but would take what he considered his husbandly rights. Although this was not anywhere in her idea of acceptable behavior, Randi was nothing if not practical. If she denied him, he would take her, and none in this time would fault him. It was the reality of the day, she was now his property.
So here is where the great internal debate began. Being a child of her times and a police officer, she would consider it rape if he took he without her consent, and as such, unforgiveable. She was also sure if they stayed in her century, they would have made love many times this night. She knew she loved her Gabhran, and he loved her. She knew her Gabhran was somewhere inside this barbaric Scot, and it was not his fault that he didn’t remember her.
She was familiar with the 'rape is not romance' mentality of some rabid daytime television viewers, who considered sex after any type of initial reluctance as rape. Yes, she had initially resisted this version of Gabhran, but her resistance was as much a denial of her circumstances as of anything else.
Now that she’d had the day to sort through her thoughts and feelings, she had decided not to force this particular issue. If he wanted to have her, she would use every bit of her knowledge to make the event so memorable that this Gabhran would fall in love with her, too. Then maybe he would be more inclined to believe her story. Until he believed her, she knew there was no hope of him helping her find a way out of the mess in which they found themselves.
“You look lovely, Miss Miranda,” Lissa said, admiring her handiwork, and pulling Randi back from her reverie. Randi glanced in the mirror, then did a double take. Her hair was upswept into an intricate design on the back of her head, and a gold tendril curled down her neck. The scooped front of her dress displayed her cleavage to full advantage, and the gold girdle made her waist appear tiny. She felt deliciously feminine.
“Thank you, Lissa, you have made me look beautiful,” Randi said sincerely.
“Nay, miss, you are a beauty, I merely dressed you up a bit. I will lay out the lacy chemise, should you want to change before bed, from the linen one you are wearing now. If you wish me to tend to you tonight, just knock on the door.” She gave Randi another one of her strange looks. “I wish you good luck tonight, miss.”
“Why would you wish me luck,” Randi wondered, as she was struck by a sudden wave of unease.
“If you don’t mind my saying,” Lissa said. She paused, looking at Randi, who nodded for her to continue.
“I saw you this morning after the Laird left. I see now you have made a decision. I meant no disrespect, I just wished you to know that should you need me tonight, I will be here for you.” With that, Lissa left her, and Randi was alone, wondering if she’d made the right decision.
Chapter Seventeen
Gabhran knocked, opened the door, and entered her room without waiting for an invitation. Randi turned slowly to meet his gaze, and was rewarded when his eyes widened and his lips parted on an exhale. If it had been her time, he would have said wow. He looked at her admiringly and she returned his look, feeling positively weak at the knees.
Gabhran was in a clean plaid, with a white a linen shirt that highlighted his broad shoulders. He wore soft looking leather boots, and she liked looking at the strong legs displayed below his kilt. What exactly did a man wear under his kilt? She wet her lips, thinking about it, and he sucked in his breath at the sight of her tongue.
“Are you ready for dinner, wife?” he asked gruffly, holding his arm out for her.
“Yes,” she said rather breathlessly, taking his arm.
He led her through his room and into the hallway, dismissing the guards until the morning. She was so nervous her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth as she struggled to make casual conversation.
“Will you tell me about your home?” she asked tentatively, as they walked together through the castle. He gave her a searching look, before nodding once.
She thought he would be a reluctant storyteller, but he was engaging, and he became quite animated as he led her through the various rooms, on the way to the great hall. Randi realized she had no knowledge of her own background in this reality. He’d obviously made a bargain with her “father” in exchange for her hand in marriage, yet she knew nothing about this other “family” or where she was from. She would need to keep the conversation focused on him.
Dinner was formal, with servants bringing several courses to the table. Randi's stomach was in turmoil from the stress of the evening, and she ate little.
“Is the food not to your liking, Miranda?” he asked, obviously noting that each plate was nearly empty when it went back to the kitchen.
“It’s fine, I’m just not hungry,” she replied nervously. Somehow, her plan to seduce him seemed a bit easier when he hadn’t been sitting here in front of her.
He tensed immediately, his eyes narrowed, and he looked at her suspiciously. “Lass, I doona think you have forgotten our conversation from this morning, and I have not changed my mind,” he growled.
“No, I didn’t forget,” she replied softly, not meeting his eyes. Then she berated herself for looking away. How was that seductive? She forced herself to meet his gaze, smiled, and made an effort to enjoy her dinner.
When dinner was finally over, Randi struggled to think of something to do, that didn’t involve that giant bed upstairs. In New Orleans, they could go listen to jazz. She ran through the list. Television, nope, movies, nope, what the hell did people do with all this time on their hands? Well I can think of one thing he likes to do, and it really is a nice big bed, a small voice whispered.
“Would you like to take a walk, lass?”
“Oh, yes,” she said, pushing her chair back, and Gabhran hurried to her side. Randi shivered when she took his arm, she thought she felt the darkness within him flex at her touch, almost as if it were aware of her, and it didn’t like her one bit.
The night sky was black velvet, sprinkled with diamonds, so low she felt she could reach up and pluck one from the sky. The air was warm, but the breeze from the sea was cool. He continued acting the tour guide as he led her around the castle grounds.
“Tis a fortified square, the keep itself is protected by walls as thick as I am tall. There are one hundred eighty-nine rooms, and that doesna count the garderobes. There are two outer walls to the sides and front that will hold against any attack. The sea protects us from the rear and my men are well trained. You need not fear for your safety as my wife.”
Randi looked up to the top of the inner wall that surrounded the main building and saw guards on the walkway. She’d not thought about personal safety, except as it related to this man. Thank goodness they had been pulled to somewhere relatively safe for this time period. Actually, Randi still wasn’t sure what year it was or exactly where she was, but asking would raise too many questions.
He led her near the cliff side, and the surf pounded on the rocks below. He dropped her arm
and stood looking out to sea, lost in thought. Randi detected an air of sadness settle over him, and was stunned to see a sheen of tears in his eyes. She quietly stepped back a pace and sat on the ground, ceding him a modicum of privacy.
After a long while, Gabhran seemed to shake himself. He looked around quickly, his body going from relaxed to battle-ready in less than a second, as he scanned the grounds looking for her.
“Gabhran, I’m here,” she said quietly from her seat on the ground. His eyes found her as she spoke, and his body visibly relaxed again. Wow, it is a good thing I wasn’t trying to escape.
He heaved a huge sigh, and sat on the grass beside her, wrapping his arms around his knees and staring out to sea as he said in a menacing tone, “Doona try to leave, lass, I would only hunt you down and punish you.”
Taking advantage of the fact he wasn’t looking at her, Randi rolled her eyes. Barbaric Gabhran was not very good with women. Something or someone had hurt him in this reality and he’d brought the darkness with him. She suspected he lashed out when he was feeling least secure. She scooted herself over next to him until they were seated, hip touching hip, and placed her hand gently on his arm.
“Why are you sad, Gabhran?”
He turned and stared at her for a very long time, his eyes cold and mouth twisted. “What is your game, wife? Think you to worm your way close enough that I will let down my guard? Maybe I should search your gown for a dirk. Plan you to kill me?”
He grabbed her by the shoulders and forced her to the ground. He held her with one hand on her throat while he searched her roughly for a knife. He brought his face close to hers breathing hard, eyes furious.
Randi held very still, not wanting to give his darkness a reason to explode further. Then slowly, as though she didn’t want to startle a wild animal, she placed her hands lightly on his biceps. His muscles trembled beneath her hands.
“Gabhran,” she whispered. “Kiss me.”
He lowered his mouth to hers and tasted her kiss, long, slow, and sweet.