After the Storm

by Tia Isabella

  Niall nodded wide-eyed at the MacGregor and awaited his instructions.

  “Tell yer laird this…” Thomas spaced out his words slowly and evenly so that the boy wouldn’t miss anything. “Tell Robert that he will die fer trying tae take my lady. Tell him that even does it take me until I breathe my last breath, I will hunt him down and I will kill him afore I breathe it. Fer attempting tae steal cattle I would ha’ maimed him, fer attempting tae steal my woman he will be shown no mercy.”

  Thomas released Niall and stalked away, not bothering to look back as the lad plummeted to the ground. He scowled as he took to his mount and rode from the gates of the MacAllister keep.

  Maya.

  This entire bloody uprising had all been over Lady Maya.

  Nay, no good ever came from claiming a comely wench.

  Chapter 11

  Thomas stormed into Maya’s bedchamber a few hours later, as angry as he was when he had left the MacAllister keep. No matter how hard he tried, he could not calm down. The woman was getting to him. At first he had tried to tell himself ‘twas her beauty alone he desired, but the truth was that there was so much – too much – that he desired about her.

  She possessed spirit and courage. She claimed a good heart and enough passion to rival even his own. And aye, she was comely. Comely enough that the fool MacAllister would dare to make war to possess her. Robert had actually thought to steal her. Damn the man!

  Thomas was in the mood for a good fight. And he knew that if there was anything he could count on where his lady was concerned, ‘twas her willingness to oblige him in that respect.

  He strode over to Maya’s bed preparing to shout at her, then came to a sudden stop when he looked down. She was sleeping, he noticed, and quite peacefully, looking more lovely than she did when awake. Thomas ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. It wouldn’t be right to awaken her. She looked too serene, too happy.

  Too beautiful.

  Thomas sat down on the bed quietly and gazed at Maya. Her features were even more flawless by moonlight. ‘Twas hard to believe that this sleeping angel was the same woman who turned into a bellowing shrew when awake. He ran his fingers through her hair, sweeping a few strands of golden curls behind her left ear.

  He watched her for a few minutes more, then decided it was best if he left her to her dreams. He drew himself up slowly and crept soundlessly from the bedchamber.

  “Thomas?”

  Maya’s voice was thick with sleep as she sat up in the bed. The warm animal pelts fell to her stomach, leaving only the thin chemise she wore as covering. Her nipples poked at the thin material as they adjusted to the shock of the chilled night air.

  Thomas turned around to answer her and stood motionless when he saw her sitting upright in bed with only the flimsy chemise protecting her from him. He shook his head to clear it of its lusty thoughts. He walked back to the bed and sat down next to her. “Aye, love, ‘tis me.”

  He prepared himself for Maya’s tongue, certain that she was going to lay into him for the words they had spoken to each other afore he had ridden for the MacAllisters. He was surprised, though not unpleasantly so, when she threw her arms around his neck instead. “Thomas—Thomas, I am so sorry we fought. I’m just glad you are all right. I never meant to insult you.”

  He stroked Maya’s hair and held her to his chest. “Hush love, I ken that now. Mayhap such words are no’ insulting in the Tampa clan, so ye thought nothing of speaking them tae me. Is this so?” At her nod, he kissed her forehead. “Just as I thought. ‘Tis welcomed then do ye worry fer me if this is how ye show yer lovin’, but ye canna say those words in front of my men or they will think that ye shame me. Do ye ken?”

  Maya nodded and clung tighter to Thomas’s body. She had realized so much while he was gone. After she and Sara had talked, Maya understood that this man, with all of his faults, was her fate. She realized that she didn’t have to try to go home anymore because she was already here.

  She had spent hours after Sara left debating back and forth over whether or not it was possible that she was indeed the Lady M of antiquity. She remembered the painting of the lady, that they possessed the same hair and eyes. In the end she decided that Sara was right. She truly was the Lady M. And she also realized that she wasn’t exactly opposed to that notion. “Promise me Thomas that no matter what, you will never again part from me in anger. Please Thomas. Promise it!”

  Thomas lifted her chin and looked into her eyes. He was taken aback by how much caring and worry he saw in them. No one since his mum had concerned herself like this over him. Elizabeth. Nay, he would not think of his mother right now. He would not let her deceptions ruin his chance at knowing happiness with Maya. “Aye,” he promised, “I vow it.”

  Maya sighed then rested her face against his chest again.

  So this was love? She had thought she had known the emotion with Nick, but nothing could have prepared her for the feelings that Thomas brought out in her.

  “Will ye marry me, love?”

  Maya drew in her breath as her head shot up to look at Thomas. To say yes would mean that she really and truly was prepared to kiss her old life goodbye forever. She would never again know the comforts of modern day living.

  But to say no to Thomas…the outcome of that she couldn’t bear to think about. To never see him again, never know the feel of him inside of her, never hear his soft words of love or even his angry bellows…she couldn’t bear it. “Marry you?”

  Thomas frowned. She better not even think of telling him nay. “Aye, wed with me, lady.” He ran his fingers through his hair in agitation and scowled at her. “The saints know ye will make fer a most improper wife with that wicked tongue of yers, yet still do I need ye.”

  Maya’s mouth curved into a grin as Thomas gazed down into her eyes expectantly. “An improper wife? You think I won’t be suitable?”

  Thomas’s scowl deepened. “Ye ha’ the bearing of a queen, I admit, but the sharp tongue of a shrew as well.”

  Maya thought back on Nick and of his desire to marry her for reasons of social suitability alone. Her grin quickly turned into a full-mouthed smile. She threw her arms around Thomas’s neck and laughed. "That is the sweetest thing you have ever said to me! Of course I will marry you!"

  Thomas grunted, uncertain as to what he'd just said that made his lady so happy. Not many women, in fact none that he could name, would have been delighted at being called an improper shrew. But this was Maya, he mused.

  His Maya.

  That's all that mattered anymore.

  * * * * *

  Maya was awakened the following morning by a nagging pounding on her bedchamber door. “My lady!” a voice bellowed from the hall, “’tis time tae break thy fast!”

  She frowned. The voice belonged to that same rider on the hillside who had promised Thomas she would all but kill him if they didn’t flee from her. Great, just what she needed. To be woken up by the town crier. “Go away!” she retorted with an irritated growl.

  Silence enveloped the room for a moment, making Maya think it was safe to close her eyes again. She smiled in satisfaction. Getting rid of the voice of gloom and doom had been easier than she had thought it would be.

  “My lady!” the voice bellowed again, “The MacGregor sent me tae fetch ye and bring ye tae him I will. ‘Tis almost light outside. Ye need tae eat!”

  Almost light outside? Maya groaned. No wonder she was so tired. She probably fell asleep barely an hour ago. Thomas’s proposal of marriage had given her enough to think about to guarantee she would be awake for hours to come. He had left her after stating, much to her disappointment, that he would not “claim her” until after they were wed.

  Maya sighed. Was sleeping really worth getting this guy in trouble with Thomas over? She could always sneak in a nap later. “Okay. I will be there in, uh, posthaste. And by the way, what is your name?”

  “Thank-you, milady, and I am called Argyle.”

  Argyle? Like the sock?

/>   “Good day to you Argyle. I will open the door after I have dressed.”

  “I will wait, milady.”

  Maya frowned. Somehow, she didn’t doubt that.

  Chapter 12

  Breakfast consisted of mutton legs, bread, cheese, fruit, and ale. And either the meal was downright delicious, or Maya was a lot hungrier than she had first thought. Everyone’s mood was jovial enough, especially after Thomas’s announcement that he was to marry her. The only one who was in a less than exuberant mood was, oddly enough, Sara. She soon found out why.

  “Sara dearest, don’t worry about it,” Maya mumbled in what Thomas referred to as Tampa English. “You’ve read the historical accounts. You know you’re going to marry Dugald. He’ll ask you soon enough.”

  Sara scowled at her then speared her cheese with the dagger Thomas had given her to use. She spoke a mile a minute in her and Maya’s foreign tongue, causing both Thomas and Dugald to look at her strangely. “What if the books are wrong? What if I’m stuck in this god-forsaken hellhole forever, without ever getting married to him? What if I end up a lonely and bitter old maid?”

  Maya grinned at Sara. She couldn’t help herself.

  “What the hell is so funny?” Sara demanded through set lips.

  Maya patted her on the back. “Have I ever told you how adorable you look when you’re not behaving so damned placidly?”

  Sara shot her a scathing look, causing Maya to bellow with laughter.

  Thomas and Dugald scowled in unison, neither of them appreciating being left out of the conversation. “Maya, ye will speak in Gaelic now. This Tampa English is no longer yer tongue. Do ye ken?” Thomas folded his arms across his chest and dared her to say otherwise.

  Maya arched an eyebrow.

  Thomas squirmed in his chair, trying to get comfortable. He had a feeling he was going to have to instruct Lady Maya on what is considered proper respect of him a lot sooner than he had wished to.

  Maya was about to gainsay him, but decided against it when she looked around at the expectant faces of Thomas’s men. She would not embarrass him in front of them without a better reason than his tyrannical tendencies. No, she’d wait and blister his ears when they were alone. She cleared her throat. “Forgive me, my lord. It’s an old habit.”

  Maya felt like laughing when she saw the expression on Thomas’s face. He looked like he didn’t know whether to fall over in disbelief, be thankful for her unexpected tact, or both. Good, she thought. Don’t ever let the big guy think he could take her willingness to oblige him for granted.

  “My lady,” Argyle asked, “where is this clan called Tampa? Are ye and Lady Sara from the Lowlands?”

  Maya had to smile at the inquisitive look on the young soldier’s face. Before she had opened her bedchamber door to him this morning, she had been prepared to dislike him. But Argyle had seen to endearing himself to her right away, by dropping down on one knee and professing his sorrow over having ever thought her to be a demon wench. She had let him stew for a moment, then forgiven him. He was already growing on her.

  “No Argyle, it’s not in the Lowlands. It’s in another land far away, across the oceans.”

  Thomas raised an eyebrow. “Across the oceans? Ye never did say how ye came tae be here.”

  Now it was Maya’s turn to squirm on the bench. Thomas noted her apprehension, but was put off on commenting on it by Lady Sara. “As I said before, we do not know how we came to be here. The best I can tell you is that those black clouds must have been magical. The colors inside of them drew us in against our will and when they finally released us we were here.”

  Excited chatter filled the room at Sara’s proclamation. This was the Middle Ages after all, when people still believed in the mystical. After living through what they had lived through, Maya had to wonder how far off the “primitive” medievals had been in their assumptions.

  “’Twas probably a witch who envied both of yer beauty and thought tae kill ye for it, but instead of dying ye were brought into the MacGregor’s protection instead.” Argyle decided this with a thoughtful look, as if he were an authority on the subject of it all.

  “Aye,” John the Elder agreed, “ye can best believe that tae be true. How else can this be explained?”

  The great hall broke into excited conversations once more as the soldiers and servants each gave their particular theories on how the seemingly impossible had happened. It was obvious that even Thomas and Dugald were awed by the tale. Thomas spoke up, causing the room to revert back to silence. “And this Tampa…how do ye know ‘tis so far away?”

  “Aye,” Dugald seconded as he set down his tankard, “how can ye know?”

  Sara cleared her throat, then looked to Thomas. She was still mad as hell at Dugald and refused to acknowledge his interest. “My father spoke to me of Scotland at length as a child. He said it was a faraway place like England and that we would have to cross the ocean to reach it. He said it would take weeks, perhaps months, to reach it by ship.”

  “Mayhap even years,” Argyle offered as he nodded in amazement.

  Maya snorted. Try seven hundred years. Argyle had no idea how close to the truth that he was just then.

  “Do ye know of any witches or wizards who should like tae see ye dead, Lady Maya?” John put the question to her, then settled back onto his bench and scratched his beard while he awaited her answer.

  Witches? Wizards? Hell, only Nick came to mind. “Actually yes,” Maya replied, causing Sara to all but choke on her food. “There was one.”

  The excitement in the room bubbled into chatter once again. Bemused, Sara nudged her in the side. “Do tell us, Lady Maya.”

  Maya frowned at Sara, then beheld the throng of captivated MacGregors surrounding her. Even Thomas looked like he was hanging on her every word. Hell, might as well give them a good tale. She widened her eyes dramatically, as if telling a ghost story at summer camp.

  “There was an evil wizard who preyed upon the ladies of the Tampa clan. He was known to us as Nick the Arse.” The soldiers laughed, apparently appreciating Nick’s new surname as much as Maya did. “He thought to wed me and force me into his den of deceit, but I fled from him and his evil maidservant, the wench Mindy.”

  Maya smiled smugly. She was enjoying this rendition of past events. “I told Nick the Arse that I would sooner die than take him for a husband. He tried to ply me with trinkets and gold, but I remained steadfast.”

  Argyle nodded his head in earnest. “We’ve no doubt that ye would sooner die than succumb tae the trickery of a wizard, milady.”

  Maya was too enthralled with her tale to give Argyle more than a cursory nod. “On his last attempt to claim me, during the clan celebration you already know of, he tried to win me with his smooth words at the home of my…uhh…liege lord, Lord Pete.”

  Sara arched an eyebrow. Lord Pete, eh?

  “But Lady Sara and I ran from Nick the Arse’s evil clutches. He gave a good chase, but soon the colors claimed us and Lady Sara and I were swept up into the black clouds. Then we were here.”

  Dugald knit his brow as he listened to Maya’s tale. “Mayhap the clouds were no’ sent from a witch then, but by God, that ye might escape the clutches of Nick the Arse.”

  Argyle stood up after that proclamation, apparently moved enough by the story to bellow one of his famous impassioned warnings. “Hear this, oh Nick the Arse! Do ye try tae claim the fair Lady Maya now, the MacGregor will rip out yer heart, cut off yer manhood, and spit on yer lifeless body!” He spat on the ground to emphasize his resolve.

  Maya winced as cheers went up throughout the hall. Nick was an ass to be sure, but that much retribution was hardly called for.

  “Aye!” John yelled as he rose to his feet, “the MacGregor will kill him!”

  A hardy rendition of “ayes” filled the air as the warriors showed Lady Maya their support.

  Thomas settled into his chair in smug satisfaction. Of course he would kill him. He was the MacGregor and Maya was to be hi
s wife.

  Maya smiled hesitantly at Thomas. Nick the Arse had better pray that the black clouds never sweep him over to this side of the rainbow. Geez, she really had to learn to control her mouth!

  * * * * *

  The keep was a place of commotion for the next three weeks as the wedding preparations were made. Maya had been less than thrilled to learn that the ceremony would take place outside, as the Highlands were freezing this time of year. She just prayed it wouldn’t be snowing on her wedding day.

  “Ye are so lovely, milady. How I wish I were as beautiful as ye.” Lena crooned her praise to Maya, thereby eliciting a blush from her. She had never thought of herself as beautiful while living in the twenty-first century, but these Highlanders sure seemed to think she was. Hey, different strokes for different folks, she decided.

  Maya set down the comb she had been using on her hair and turned around to address her maid. “Lena, you are barely fifteen and already lovely. I’ve no doubt but that you will only grow lovelier.”

  Lena looked up from the stitching of Maya’s wedding dress and smiled. “Truly, milady?”

  “Truly,” Maya assured her. “You will marry very well, without a doubt.”

  Lena blushed then continued her stitching. “He loves ye, ye know.”

  Maya arched an eyebrow as she watched Lena sew. “Thomas?”

  “Aye.”

  Maya nodded. “I should hope so if I’m to marry him.”

  Lena chuckled. “Ye say that as if it is the common way of things. Of course, ye know that it isn’t. Ye are lucky ye are tae be wed tae a powerful laird, let alone one who loves ye so. Most women do no’ meet with such reward. Of course, ye are also more comely than most women.”

  Maya grinned. At last she understood where Lena was going with this conversation. After all, the girl had filled her ears for the last week with tales of romantic love and wedding the man of her dreams. Because she was the niece of Angus MacGregor, and could claim a small inheritance, she was afraid she would be forced into a union she didn’t want. Inheritances were scant in the rugged Highlands and therefore highly coveted.