Highland Charm: First Fantasies

by April Holthaus

  She gave Elspeth a sideways glance, and the young woman nodded encouragement. Laurie marched over to where he indicated and sat in one of the chairs.

  “Beth, leave us. I will bring her to you when we finish.”

  “Aye, you will find me in my solar.” Elspeth left and closed the door behind her.

  Patrick rose, striding across the room with smooth muscular grace to sit in the chair next to her. Instead of looking at her, he gazed into the fire.

  The silence stretched and his expression remained blank. She fidgeted with the fabric of the gown, her palms damp. As the seconds ticked by, her stomach somersaulted with nervous anticipation. Nibbling at her bottom lip, she stared at her lap. The effort to remain silent killed her, but she refused to speak first.

  Patrick finally cleared his throat and provided her with a close-up of his face. God, he was good-looking. His blue eyes were absolute stunners.

  Those eyes stared at her mouth, and then they darkened. His chair creaked when he coughed and adjusted his weight. “Lass, I need you to answer some questions. Will you do that?”

  “I’ll try.” Although it disgusted her to appear weak, she dropped her gaze unable to continue holding his stare. Why did this man make her more nervous than any other?

  “Good,” he said. “I understand your surname is Bernard. Are you French?”

  She flipped her gaze to him relieved she could easily answer the question. “My father was of French descent.”

  “Was?”

  “My parents were killed in a plane...ah, in an accident when I was a child.”

  “An accident on a plain?” A touch of humor threaded his voice.

  “Yes,” she said, relieved he hadn’t caught her slip.

  “A plain is rather large…”

  She shrugged. His eyes narrowed.

  “Parlez-vous français, la langue de votre père?”

  “Oui. Je parle couramment le français.”

  “Ach, well.” Patrick chuckled. “Do you speak any other language?”

  She was proud of her gift for languages, having spoken French fluently since childhood. She spoke Spanish, Italian and German good enough to converse with clients. She’d even picked up a small amount of Mandarin during her career. She wasn’t about to tell all of that to a male chauvinist, medieval lord.

  “I can read and write in Latin,” she said.

  “Unusual for a lass.” He raised a skeptical brow.

  “True. It’s a dead language, but I studied it at school.”

  “Attending school is also unusual for a lass.”

  “Not where I come from.”

  “Aye, we will get to that,” he said, an edge to his voice.

  When would she learn to keep her mouth shut?

  “You will find my household forward thinking. Living close to the Lowlands as we do, we speak both the Gaelic tongue and the language of the Lowlanders. Many of my men, including myself, speak French. And aye, lass, I read and write Latin, in addition to several other languages.”

  “Of course you do.”

  He stared at her for an uncomfortable moment.

  “Your mother? She was French?”

  How would he react to her answer to the question? Only one way to find out.

  “My mother’s surname was MacIntyre, of course, that was before she married my father.”

  Patrick’s eyes narrowed. “Did you wander away from your MacIntyre escort and find yourself in our Fir-wood this past night?”

  “No.”

  His jaw tightened. He worked to control annoyance.

  “Then how did you come to be in our Fir-wood?”

  Laurie sighed. This was all so complicated. She chose her words carefully, deciding to tell the truth no matter how absurd it sounded. “I was in my garden, outside of my cottage, in a place far away from here. I was with friends when I saw you outside the gate in the woods behind the cottage. It was the third time I’d seen you. I wanted to know who you were and why you were there. I was frightened, but a friend pushed me forward. As I stepped through the gate, I fell, and everything started spinning. There were flashes of light and color and the next thing I knew, I was on the ground at your feet. You might not believe me, but it is the truth.”

  Did he believe her? His features gave away little of his thoughts.

  “What is the name of this faraway place? Kansas?”

  “No, that is the name of a place in a mov...er, a play. I live in the town of Anderson Creek, in a far distant land.”

  “On the Continent?” Patrick asked.

  “On a continent? Yeah.”

  His gaze bored into her as he processed her answers. “One more question. Why did you ask me what year it was when we talked this past night?”

  Afraid to answer, Laurie held her breath. Exhaling on a sigh, she sat straight. “My cottage and my garden exist in the twenty-first century.” She braced herself, but the explosion she expected never came.

  “You believe this outrageous tale?” His eyebrows nearly met his hairline.

  His shocked expression caused her to shake her head. “I feared you wouldn’t believe me.” She looked directly into his eyes. His dark blue gaze mesmerized her. She swallowed. “It is the truth. You must believe me. I need your help to go back.”

  “How do you expect me to help you?” A flicker in his eyes gave her hope.

  “Take me to the woods where you found me and help me find my way home.”

  He glanced away. “Impossible.”

  When he returned his gaze to her, his jaw set tight. “’Twill be for the best if you forget this strange tale. For your safety, you must never speak of it. Others might accuse you of delving in the dark arts.”

  Heat rose from her toes as dread filled her veins. She hadn’t thought of that. They’d brand her a witch. Condemn her to death. She needed to get the hell out of here.

  He gave a quick nod, reached over and patted her hand. “Aye. ’Twill be best to keep this our wee secret. I have claimed you and that puts you under my protection. Only Stephen, who you met in the wood, and Beth, my sister, ken what happened this past night. ’Twill be safest to keep it that way.”

  “But—”

  He raised a hand. “For your protection I contrived an explanation for your unexpected appearance. ’Twill be said you are the daughter of a deceased French noble. You shall be heralded as the Lady Laurie Bernard. My brother is in France with Beth’s betrothed. We will make it known they sent you to us to be companion to Beth. In time, I will make you mine in truth. Nary a one will dare question you.”

  “What do you mean by make you mine in truth?”

  “Aye, we will keep this secret between the four of us. Beth and Stephen can be trusted to do as I request.” Patrick stood, avoiding eye contact.

  She’d risked telling him the truth and he didn’t believe her. What was she going to do? She couldn’t stay—

  Pulling her from her seat, he hurried her out of the room before she collected her thoughts and screamed at him. He grasped her by the elbow, led her through the passageway, and up a circular stair. He moved in such a rush, she could hardly keep up, never mind argue with the damn man.

  Oh, but she would.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Sands of Time

  Munn scanned the horizon. This place wasn’t to his liking, not one bit. White sand covered the ground, a desert of sorts. The brutal yellow light from the sun blinded and made him sweat. He sat on the ground, running granules through his fingers, trying to think. The required magic remained hidden to him.

  Without the correct chant, he’d never be free of this horrible place. He didn’t deserve such a punishment. He forced himself to his feet and walked for what seemed like miles. The spread of the plain was endless, as far as his vision allowed.

  Overcome with heat and thirst, he kicked at the sand. Damn Caitrina.

  Damn faerie. She meant to cause terrible trouble or she wouldn’t have flung him into the Sands of Time. Ach! What was he to do?


  Hard consonants formed in his mind and he spat the related sounds from his lips. He conjured an oasis. A beautiful lush island sprang from the ocean of hot sand. In the center of the oasis, he fashioned a small pool shaded by tall tropical foliage with beautiful white flowers—a stunning flora display.

  Sitting at the edge of the pool on a flat rock, he brought handfuls of pure water to his lips and drank deep. Water quenched his thirst and the fruit from a twirling vine satisfied his hunger.

  Not enough. He needed to return to the earth realm.

  He chanted, searching for the correct sounds and images to craft the magic required to set him free. His efforts were for naught. No matter how hard he tried, the proper sequence wouldn’t come to him. He glared into the mirror-like water.

  Caitrina would pay for her betrayal.

  Munn continued stringing syllables together in a sing-song chant. He’d keep trying until claimed by exhaustion. He must get back to the castle to warn the MacLachlan, to warn his master about Caitrina, to warn him about her powerful fae magic.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Castle Lachlan

  Patrick ground his teeth, annoyed to discover he stared out the window of his private work chamber like a besotted fool. The sun shined brightly to the east. He’d barely noticed the men fishing from the beach below, the rippling water of the small bay or the distant heather covered hills. Good Lord, the castle could have been under attack and he wouldn’t have noticed.

  Emotions he normally suppressed crippled him, making him uncertain how to proceed. Clenching his hands into fists, he reflected on his earlier conversation with Lady Laurie. She told an incredible tale, one most would not believe. He wasn’t most, and unfortunately, he believed her. He knew, for certain, brownies and faeries existed. He’d even heard some of the fae possessed the ability to sift the sands of time.

  Munn told him Caitrina, one of the Sithichean, was in some way involved with both the lass and with his missing parents. Could she sift time? Was it possible she was capable of such an extraordinary power? He hadn’t yet questioned the lass about her connection to the faerie or about the brooch she wore, not wanting to warn her of his interest. He planned to bide his time until he gained her trust.

  After seeing her in the bath, he knew how to accomplish that. He was determined to seduce Lady Laurie into sharing his bed.

  Smiling at the mental image of her curvy, naked body stretched across the furs on his bed, he loosened his fists and turned away from the window. He paced the chamber. Concern replaced lust. No one had seen Munn since the lass appeared. With such unusual events happening, it was odd the clan brownie had gone missing. Munn’s absence worried him more than he wanted to admit.

  An unbidden thought pricked his mind. Could the lass be responsible for Munn’s absence? Quite the riddle he needed to solve.

  A heavy knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts. “Who dares disturb my peace?” he bellowed.

  From the other side of the thick door came a masculine chuckle. “’Tis Stephen.”

  “Enter upon your own peril.”

  Stephen ambled into the room. Without invitation, he casually slouched in one of the chairs before the hearth, one leg hooked over the armrest. His focus on the arm of the chair, he rubbed his fingers across the fine wood grain.

  “What?” Patrick glared at the back of his cousin’s head.

  “You seem to be of bad humor this morn.” Stephen twisted to look at Patrick, meeting his gaze with a grin. “Might you want a challenge on the practice field?”

  Patrick stilled. “What have you planned?”

  “A fine Lamont warrior has brought a message from his chief, demanding a meeting to finalize your betrothal agreement. After providing victuals, I gave him leave to train with our lads. I thought you might enjoy a wee bit of sport.”

  There was no betrothal! When would Lamont accept that?

  Patrick slammed his palm on the oak mantel. “Aye, I will show the Lamont dog how a good Highlander fights and send him back to his chief less than a man.” He stormed from the chamber.

  Stephen followed, keeping pace, first to the armory then to the practice field where Patrick planned to grind the Lamont warrior into the dirt.

  * * *

  Laurie lifted the skirt of the blue gown as she stepped over a raised threshold into the kitchen. She’d spent the morning touring the castle with Elspeth. The ginger-haired Duncan, her new shadow, always a step behind.

  She learned from him that the MacLachlans were extremely proud of their home. Of a unique design, the castle was unusual for Scotland. From the outside, it appeared a great stone keep, but on the inside, it actually consisted of two separate wings along the east and west sides of a narrow courtyard. The wings connected at the north end by a small building and passageway, the building mainly used for storage and for housing the castle well.

  The two wings contained both public rooms for the clan and private apartments for the chief’s household. The chamber Laurie slept in the night before was on the third floor of the western wing, the top floor with a view of the sea loch in one direction and a small bay in the other. The largest bedchamber in the castle, it belonged to Patrick, the current Chief of Clan MacLachlan.

  The knowledge he was the chief of a great Highland clan was somewhat daunting. Butterflies flew around in her belly as if caught in a whirling storm. She didn’t want to think about him, especially not about the incredible kiss they shared. Not thinking about him wasn’t an option. She couldn’t seem to get his image out of her head.

  When she did let her mind linger on him for any length of time, she felt a powerful longing to be near him, to touch him, to do incredibly sexual things with him.

  “Argh,” she actually growled out loud.

  Cookie, the MacLachlan’s rotund female cook, and Elspeth stopped their discussion of the midday meal preparations to stare at her.

  “Lady Laurie, did you say something?” Elspeth asked.

  “Nothing.” Laurie’s cheeks flamed. She hadn’t meant for anyone to overhear her. “It’s annoying to have Duncan following my every step.” She glared in his direction.

  He didn’t take offense. He merely grinned and presented her with a formal bow.

  Elspeth pulled her aside by the arm. “’Tis for your protection. You are new to the castle and dinnae ken the dangers that exist. When you are more accustomed to life here, I am sure Patrick will release Duncan from his duty. Jamie only guards me when my brother believes there is an extreme risk.”

  “What you mean to say is when Patrick decides he can trust me to obey his every command he might allow me modest freedom.” She sounded petulant, but she couldn’t help it. It had been bad enough over the years to be under her uncle’s control and then her cousin Finn’s. To be ordered about by a total stranger was more than infuriating.

  “Aye.” Elspeth cocked a brow. “He expects obedience. ’Tis for your protection. You dinnae understand our way of life. I am sure your life was much different in France.” Her gaze darted with warning toward Cookie.

  Laurie caught the subtle signal and dropped the subject. She lowered her head, covertly stole a glance at Duncan and suppressed a smile. He was one of those huge muscle-bound guys, the kind of guy born with an extra Y-chromosome. The kind of guy who intimidated most women and some men. The kind of guy you’d want at your back in a fight. And, after a few hours in his company, she’d learned he was a big, sweet, teddy bear. If she had to have a guard, at least she could deal with this one.

  The muffled blare of a horn sounded from somewhere atop the walls. The kitchen staff stilled for a moment then switched gears to overdrive.

  “’Tis time for the noon meal,” Elspeth said.

  They left the kitchen, allowing Cookie to complete her final preparations. They strolled into the courtyard and ascended the wheel stair to the hall.

  On the first floor, the hall occupied the entire length of the western wing. A large hearth, tall enough for a man to stand in an
d wide enough to accommodate several men, was the prominent feature along one of the walls, although no fire burned today. Silence followed in their wake as she followed Elspeth across the stone floor toward the dais platform. When Laurie glanced at the staring people seated at the tables, they looked away. As soon as she sat next to Elspeth at the head table, whispers began.

  Laurie inhaled a deep breath. She ignored the stares and took in the beauty of the castle. Until she escaped, she planned to immerse herself in the culture. Maybe she’d write a book when she returned home. It would need to be a work of fiction, who would believe the truth?

  Duncan hovered over her like a nursemaid, but when friends hailed him, he joined a group of rowdy warriors at one of the lower tables.

  She scanned the room, looking for Patrick, hoping he wouldn’t make an appearance.

  Not finding him among the men, she glanced at the light penetrating the smoky haze from the high windows. At least six feet off the floor, the windows contained leaded-glass fixed into the stone on the lower half, and wooden shutters on the upper half. Additional lighting and the annoying smoke came from candles atop tall iron stands positioned around the room. They cast a sickly yellow glow on the many tapestries covering the gray stone of the walls.

  Elspeth tapped her arm and leaned in close. “We wait for Patrick.”

  Well, that settled it. He would be here soon enough. Part of her couldn’t wait to see him. The other part determined to ignore him.

  Chattering in the room escalated. Laurie inwardly cringed, certain the chatter was speculation about her arrival.

  The door opened, and a man who resembled Duncan hurried in. Messy copper-red hair bobbed as he strode across the floor to the head table, stopping in front of Elspeth. A hush fell over the room.

  “Lady Elspeth.” He inclined his head. “The Chief, he instructed me to come directly to you. I am to inform you he will not be joining you for the midday meal. He wishes you to begin the serving.”

  Elspeth laughed. “Why Jamie MacEwen, what is keeping my brother from his meal this time?”