by Tia Isabella
And Lady Maya was bound to put up a fight if he ordered her to stay here. She wasn’t the type of woman that was going to sit idly by while the MacGregor decided her fate for her. Nay, she would demand that her and her lady friend be sent back wence they came.
“Mayhap ‘tis safe tae speak with ye now, or do ye wish tae frown at your ale a bit more?”
Thomas looked up to see a smiling Dugald and glared at him. “Me thinks ye should wait a while more, Dugald.”
Dugald clucked his tongue and shook his head, feigning exasperation. In reality, he found the situation too amusing to be sure. “Come now Thomas, ye know ye can speak yer mind freely tae me.”
Thomas glowered at Dugald as he took another swallow of ale. “Mayhap ye find this amusing Dugald, but I assure ye that I dinna.”
Dugald laughed as he swatted Thomas on the back then helped himself to the seat nearest the laird. “It can’t be all that bad, my lord. Tell me now what troubles ye.”
If only he himself knew, Thomas sighed. He wanted to believe that he was angry at Lady Maya because of her stubborn and shrewish tendencies, yet he knew he wasn’t angry about that in the slightest. Irritated, aye, but angry, nay. ‘Twas true that if he kept the lady he would have to be diligent in instructing her of her proper place, but her behavior was nothing irreversibly damaging.
The real problem was Lady Maya herself. She was simply too beautiful for Thomas’s peace of mind. Nothing good ever came from keeping a beautiful woman, for men aplenty would seek to take her to their beds.
Just like his mum. Aye, the former Laird MacGregor knew all too well the heartbreak that came from claiming a comely wife.
Thomas’s mother Elizabeth had been considered the loveliest maiden in the land in her day. For many a year that Thomas could remember, his father Angus had doted on his mother, seeing to her every whim. But apparently Elizabeth had never returned Angus’s love, for she certainly hadn’t returned his fidelity.
Angus never found out precisely how many lovers his wife had taken to her bed, as he knew of only one in particular. But if there was one, there had to have been others, he had decided after Elizabeth’s death. Thomas was like as not ever going to forget the manner in which Angus had found out that his beloved wife had betrayed him.
Angus had ridden back into the keep following a successful raid on the Hamilton clan only to find that his wife had taken her life in their bedchamber. Beside himself with grief, Angus had questioned the servants at length and eventually found out what had caused his fair Elizabeth to die by her own hand.
‘Twas a young squire that had been sent from a neighboring clan to train under Angus who had learned of Elizabeth’s sins. He had watched her cavort with a man he didn’t recognize down in the lower bailey. Following their sordid tryst against the castle wall, the squire had overheard the unknown man jilt Elizabeth, ending their affair that day. According to the lad, Elizabeth had begged the man to take her with him and when he refused to do so, she fled to her chamber in tears.
Angus had forced the squire from his keep that day for not having brought an end to his wife’s immoral behavior the moment he saw what she had been about. Not that it had done any good to hoist the lad from the castle for his wife had already betrayed him and was dead.
Thomas’s father was never the same after Elizabeth’s death. He would take a wench to bed when his need became o’er much, but he never gave his heart to another. Elizabeth’s sins had destroyed Angus and Angus’s hate had formed the way Thomas viewed the world, especially women.
Thomas was cold and cynical where wenches were concerned, just as his sire before him had taught him to be. There were many issues over the years that had brought father and son to conflict before Angus’ death, but there was one matter on which the two had always agreed. Nothing good ever came of taking a comely woman to wife.
“Well,” Dugald asked, bringing Thomas’s attention back to his commander-in-arms, “will ye speak of it?”
Thomas stared into the hearth without blinking, his gaze never leaving it. “’Tis Lady Maya, my friend.”
Dugald nodded and sighed, having figured as much. “What aboot her, Thomas?”
The laird cast his stony stare to Dugald. “She is beautiful. She is tae beautiful. Need I say more?”
Chapter 5
The women followed behind Matilde in a daze. Neither of them had fully accepted the fact that what they were experiencing was indeed reality. It still felt like a dream, but most especially to Maya. Or an incredibly detailed, highly vivid hallucination. Medieval Scotland? Good God, how could it be?
Matilde stopped first at Sara’s room to show her where she would be sleeping. Sara thanked the servant profusely then asked Matilde if she would mind if she trailed behind them to Maya’s room. Sara explained to her that she and Lady Maya had a few things to discuss in private before they bathed. “Of courrz I do no’ mind,” she insisted in a thick French accent, “’ti zan honor to do your bidding, my ladieez.”
Maya took a resigned look around when she was escorted into her room, or what Matilde had called her “bedchamber”. The room was large enough to suit her needs, almost three times the size of her bedroom in Tampa.
The bed was spacious, huge in fact, and covered with pelts of animal fur. Tapestries hung on the walls, giving the chamber a homey feel, and vases and chests helped add to that effect. The only thing Maya disliked about her new temporary home was the chillingly cold stone floor. But the crackling fire kindling in the hearth managed to lessen even that minor discomfort.
Maya sighed. The place wasn’t exactly Trump Tower, but then neither was her and Sara’s modest apartment in Tampa. As bedchambers went, this one wasn’t half bad.
Maya thanked Matilde for showing her to her room, then politely asked her to leave so Sara and she could talk. Matilde nodded and curtsied, shutting the door behind her as she made a quiet exit.
As soon as the servant departed, reality began to sink in. Maya grabbed Sara by the arm and pulled her further into the bedroom to be assured that their conversation wouldn’t be overheard. She plopped down beside her onto the bed. “Okay,” she demanded in hushed tones, “what in the hell is going on? Did we die do you suppose?”
Sara shook her head and looked into Maya’s eyes. “Somehow I doubt that. I feel very much alive, don’t you?”
Maya groaned and threw herself back onto one of the animal pelts laying on the bed. She breathed heavily for a few moments then looked over to Sara. “If we’re not dead, then the only other possibility is that we have…” She shook her head. “It isn’t possible,” she muttered under her breath.
“Apparently it is,” Sara countered. “We’re here, Maya. You can’t deny that.”
Maya bolted upright in bed and grabbed Sara’s hand. “Are you saying that we…that we…I mean to say, have we…” Maya groaned. She just couldn’t bring herself to state the obvious.
“Traveled through time?” Sara offered. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying, Maya. I’m saying we traveled back into the past almost seven hundred years.”
Maya buried her face in her hands and shook her head. “This is a nightmare is what it is. How do we get back?”
Sara breathed in a deep breath then stroked Maya on the back. “I don’t know. And I’m not sure that we can, darling.”
Maya snapped her head around to look at Sara and accused her through narrowed eyes. “You’re not sure that we can or you’re not sure that you want to?”
Maya wasn’t blind after all. She had noticed the way that Sara and Dugald had hit it off from the beginning. Dugald was nothing at all like Thomas. He was easy going, gentle-natured, and quite gabby for a fourteenth century ruffian. Thomas, on the other hand, was intense, forceful, domineering, and hardly ever spoke even when spoken to.
Sara and Sir Dugald had spent the entire evening talking, laughing, and blushing at each other. It was enough to make Maya want to stick her finger down her throat and hurl. Especially when all Thomas di
d was grunt at her, or threaten to ravish and spank her, she thought morosely.
Sara’s expression hardened as she responded to Maya’s accusation. “I do like him, if that’s what you’re asking. But I barely know him. At least not enough yet to stay here if I was given the chance to go home. Believe me Maya, I would be on the first hurricane out of here if it was possible.”
Maya sighed and squeezed Sara’s hand. She shouldn’t have jumped all over her best friend like that. She was being put through the same trauma after all.
Sara smiled and patted Maya on the knee. “You know darling, it wouldn’t kill you to be nicer to Thomas. In fact, I would suggest it.”
Maya’s eyes widened as she studied Sara’s face. “The man is a pompous idiot. Why would I want to be nice to him?”
“Because,” Sara began quite matter-of-factly, “he’s the Alpha Male around here.”
Maya rolled her eyes, causing Sara to chuckle. “So?” she asked.
“So,” Sara explained, “this is the fourteenth century. You’re an anthropologist Maya. Use your brain. Without Thomas’s protection, probables are you’ll be raped by someone here.”
Maya swallowed heavily as her eyes rounded into the shape of saucers. Sara was right. Rape was a very real possibility in this world. “My God Sara, I don’t even want to think about that.”
Sara sighed, then forced a grin, attempting to make the moment a lighter one. “Have you taken a hard look at the women around here? In comparison, what fourteenth century Highlander wouldn’t want us?”
Maya forced a laugh, but she knew what Sara had said was true. They were young, well groomed, they didn’t smell, and they possessed all of their teeth. Matilde was the best looking female around the keep and even she had enough hair on her upper lip to make Tom Selleck envious.
There was no doubt about it: without Thomas’s protection, being in the company of these barbarians would be like dangling two hunks of ripe cheese in front of a den of ravenous mice. Geez, this was just getting worse and worse as every minute ticked by.
“All right,” Maya conceded through set teeth, “I will make an effort to be more hospitable to Conan the Barbarian.”
Sara chuckled as she reached over and patted Maya on top of the head. “Good girl.”
* * * * *
A bath was brought up for Maya within a few minutes of Sara’s departure from her room. She sighed as she forced herself to leave the bed and climb to her feet. All she really wanted to do was lay down in the warm blankets with Fred and cry her eyes out. She had never been truly afraid of anything in her life, but at the moment, she was down right terrified.
What if she and Sara were stuck here? Or worse yet, what if they found a way home in another month or so, only by then Sara was head-over-heels in love with Dugald and refused to leave? Realistically that scenario seemed unlikely, yet the whole situation worried her to no end.
Maya glowered at the tub that had been brought in for her use, ran her fingers through her hair in frustration, then resigned herself into accepting the situation with a sigh. If she waited much longer, the water would be cold. Might as well go for it now.
She unzipped her cloak and took it off slowly, making certain that she didn’t tear it with her spiked heels. Apparently Thomas hadn’t noticed her odd shoes, she mused, or he no doubt would have had questions about them as well. As it was, he already demanded that she speak with him “on the morrow” so she could tell him all she knew of how she got here.
Like she herself knew. She wished she did.
Maya folded her cloak with care and set it on the chest at the end of her bed. She reached around her back to undo the Elvira gown, but found that the zipper had caught on a piece of bunched up material and wouldn’t budge. “That’s just great,” she muttered to herself, “now what do I do?”
Just when she thought her luck was already at an all-time low, it took a serious nosedive for the worse. The door crashed opened at that very moment and Maya knew in a heartbeat that the voice bellowing to her from the threshold belonged to no other than the laird himself. “Lady Maya, I would speak with ye afore ye bathe. I…”
Maya gulped as she watched Thomas watch her. His gaze never once betrayed his thoughts. That was just as well to her mindset for truth be told, she was afraid to know what he was thinking.
The Elvira dress was scandalous even by twenty-first century standards. Maya imagined that she looked like the queen of all harlots to the reckoning of a fourteenth century male. The slit on the left side of her dress went all the way up to her hip and the middle of her gown fell to the valley below her breastbone, showcasing all of her bosom save her nipples.
Well, Maya told herself with a grimace, sports strategists always claim that the best defense is a good offense. She decided a good offense in this situation would be to play dumb. “Is there something amiss, my lord?”
* * * * *
When Thomas had come upstairs to speak with Lady Maya, he hadn’t expected to see her attired so wantonly. ‘Twas scandalous. ‘Twas sinful. ‘Twas making him hard. “Nay Lady Maya,” he managed to choke out, “naught is amiss.”
Maya nodded then looked thoughtfully up at Thomas. “Your women do not wear costumes such as this at clan celebrations?”
Thomas thought on Maya’s words for a moment then scowled. If this is how women dressed in the Tampa clan then that must mean his were not the first male eyes to behold her in this nigh naked state. A chilling sense of possessiveness crept up his spine and made its way to his eyes. He narrowed them menacingly at Maya to show her his disapproval. “Ye would tell me then that yer laird approves of this fashion of dress?”
Maya nodded as she locked eyes with him. “Yes Thomas, all women of my clan dress like this. Why, we even dress like this to the church. Do you not like it?” She twirled around in a circle, just as she used to do in front of department store mirrors back home when she was trying on a new outfit.
Maya hid her smile at the indignant look on Thomas’s face. Ha! He could hardly accuse her of being a harlot if all women in the Tampa clan dressed just like her, and to church no less.
“Tae the chapel? Thomas bellowed, his fists clenched at his sides. “Yer laird would ha’ ye attired in these clothes in a holy place?”
Maya blinked, seemingly surprised by his reaction. “Well of course, Thomas, what else would we women wear?” She smiled fully, displaying pearly white teeth. Oh yeah, this was fun.
Thomas slammed the door to Maya’s bedchamber closed and took three long strides across the room to stand before her.
Or maybe it wasn’t so fun, she warily conceded as he loomed over her.
“Ye willna dress like this whilst ye are in my keep, that I can tell ye!” He scowled down at her with his brows knit ferociously together, daring her to say it otherwise.
Maya hadn’t had any intention of wearing her Elvira costume around Castle MacGregor, but Thomas’s threat was exasperating. “I will wear what I wish,” she said calmly, yet distinctly, her hands resting in fists at her hips.
“Like hell ye will, woman!” he shouted back at her, grabbing her by the arms. “When I return tae yer chamber in an hour hence ye will be bathed and properly attired. Do ye no’ heed me, ye will be turned o’er my knee and this time no mercy will I show ye!”
Maya frowned, her anger rapidly rising. This was three times now that he had brought up this business of spanking her. The third time made her even more furious than the other two threats had. So what if he stood a full foot taller? So what if he outweighed her by more than a hundred pounds? So what if her life was in his massive hands? Yes, okay, so she was a quick-tempered idiot! Sara was always telling her as much.
Maya clenched her fists together fiercely at her sides, shook her head in anger, screamed a garbled war cry from the depths of her throat, and kicked him in the shin. “I am not a child! You will not spank me!”
Thomas’s blood boiled to a temperature hot enough to turn his face red. The wench had kicked him!
He couldn’t believe it! In all his years of five and thirty she had done what no other had ever dared.
Thomas picked Maya up off of the floor by the back of her dress with one hand and drew her face close to his. He spoke to her in a voice so calm and controlled that Maya knew it was time to back down. “Do ye ever do that again, ye will know more than a child’s spanking. Do ye strike me again, ye will know my wrath.”
Maya swallowed roughly and nodded, casting her eyes to Thomas’s chest. “I should never have done that. I…I am s-sorry.”
Thomas said nothing in response for a long moment as he continued to hold Maya in mid-air. She felt the tension in his thickly muscled body so strongly that she was afraid to look him in the eyes.
When at last he spoke, his voice resumed its usual tyrannical bellow, making Maya breathe in relief. She could handle him when he was like this at least. “Now then, ye will do as ye are bid. Do I make myself clear, little laird?”
Maya met Thomas’s scowl with one of her own, but relented in the end with a brief nod.
“Verra well then,” he hissed in a tone of pure male satisfaction, “I shall return in an hour’s time.”
Just as he was about to release Maya, the material of her dress gave way to the pressure of holding up her entire body. The gown ripped into two pieces, causing Maya to shriek as she plummeted to the floor of the bedchamber.
Without thinking, Thomas whipped his free arm around Maya’s back in an effort to keep her from hitting the hard stone floor. He lost his footing and ended up stumbling to the ground, landing right on top of her still form. She sucked in her breath when the wind was knocked out of her, her face turning a shade of pale white.
“Maya! Are ye alright?” Thomas demanded that she answer him as he smoothed her golden curls behind her head and studied her face. “Speak tae me lass, are ye well? I would never knowingly bring harm tae ye.”
Maya concentrated on steadying her breathing, then offered Thomas a faint smile once she was back in control. “I am fine,” she choked out. “I just want to rest after my bath.”