Highland Charm: First Fantasies

by April Holthaus

  Elspeth sat with her often, the young woman’s voice always calm and comforting even though she must be worried sick about her brother. She tried to get Laurie to leave and take her own rest. Each time, Laurie refused.

  Duncan brought a pallet for her. Instead of using the crude mattress, she climbed into the big bed and lay next to Patrick, holding him close when the spasms of chills racked his body. She wished with all her heart they were in the twenty-first century and she had antibiotics to give him.

  Laurie prayed, begging for his life.

  At times, the hair on her arms prickled, a sure sign Munn watched. Although he kept well hidden, she suspected he observed her every move to ensure she didn’t harm Patrick.

  As if, she ever would.

  Early one morning, she lay dozing next to him. She woke to startling blue eyes peering at her. Clear blue eyes free of fever.

  “Thank God!” Tears of relief blurred her vision.

  Within moments, his arms encircled her, drawing her to him. He sucked in his breath and held her tight. Laurie cuddled against him, holding him with trembling arms, afraid to let go.

  When she finally leaned back, he touched her cheek with the tip of a finger and brushed a tear away. Her smile faltered.

  “What is it, lass?” His voice sounded coarse from lack of use.

  “Oh, Patrick. I thought you’d never wake. There is so much I need to tell you. I—”

  Stephen appeared in the doorway and cleared his throat. “I am afraid I interrupt the two of you, yet again.” He strode to the bed. “We feared we would lose you, cousin.”

  “I’ll summon Aine.” Laurie jumped from the bed and straightened her gown. She must be a sight, not having bathed or changed clothes in days. “I’ll ask her to bring broth.” She nearly ran from the chamber. She wanted to make herself more presentable.

  Though she hastened a quick glance at Patrick before she left. She needed to take the image of his clear blue eyes with her to assure herself he was well.

  Patrick stretched his sore muscles. He was glad to see Stephen, but disappointed Laurie hurried off. Although, Patrick felt as weak as a wee bairn, he’d enjoyed her body pressed against his. He was lucky to be alive.

  “How long have I been with fever?”

  “Several days. Lady Laurie has not left you in all that time.” Stephen sat on the bench next to the bed.

  The thought of Laurie caring for him brought Patrick a bone deep warmth. She was a good lass. He kept his smile to himself, not in the mood for his cousin’s teasing.

  “Anything from Lamont?”

  “Nary a word. And your uncle has not been heard from since he left the council.”

  Patrick didn’t care for the sound of that. But he couldn’t worry about it now. He needed to get his strength back before he dealt with his wayward uncle.

  Aine entered the chamber carrying a tray with Elspeth right behind her. They fussed over Patrick, making him drink every drop of broth and ale.

  Disappointed Laurie hadn’t returned he kept glancing to the door.

  When he finished his meal, his eyesight became fuzzy. From the gleam in Elspeth’s eyes, he suspected she added one of her potions to the ale to ease his aches and help him sleep.

  With stealth, he moved through the dense, dark forest. Branches slapped at him, scratching his skin. Hearing the screech of an owl and the flutter of wings, he peered into the darkness. He searched, had been searching for so long.

  But he couldn’t find what he searched for.

  What was it?

  Nae? He shook his head wanting to be free of his confusion. Who was it?

  His lass!

  Moving forward, he feared if he didn’t find her soon, she would be lost forever.

  Patrick twisted and turned, became ensnared.

  A trap. They dragged him down...held him there...forced him to watch.

  He screamed.

  A blood-curdling sound woke Patrick. His heart raced in his chest as if he’d run a great distance. He opened his eyes.

  Duncan and Stephen burst into the chamber, swords ready, searching for a threat.

  Entangled in his sheets, Patrick struggled. Sweat covered his body. Had he made that horrific sound?

  Laurie, Elspeth and Aine came running. Jamie behind. Duncan shooed them away. “’Twas nothing but a terror dream. All is well.”

  Stephen helped Patrick detangle from the sheets. He gave him a mug of ale and stared into his eyes. “What was it?”

  Patrick looked away. “As Duncan said, ’twas nothing but a terror dream.”

  Though he wasn’t so sure. The dream seemed real. He couldn’t save his woman from danger.

  * * *

  Forced to stay abed by his guardians, Patrick strummed his fingers on the edge of the mattress. When would Laurie return and tell him the rest of her outrageous tale?

  Over the past couple of days, she’d shared wonderful stories with him. He especially liked the yarn she started this morning, a tale about a lass who, after being caught in a tempest, found herself in an enchanted land of wee people and other magical beings. Laurie had just gotten to the part where the lass, her dog, and three companions had escaped capture by a wicked witch and found themselves before the gates of a city built with emeralds when she stopped and insisted he take a nap.

  He’d blustered and glowered and complained, but she’d have none of it. She told him she wouldn’t tell the rest of the tale if he didn’t sleep for a wee.

  The only thing that kept him from leaping from the bed and likely ripping open his wound was this unhurried time he spent with Laurie. She visited him often and usually joined him for meals. She filled the empty place within his heart.

  Even so, frustration rode him.

  When the door creaked and opened, he sat up straight with his arms crossed over his chest and glared at Laurie. She rolled her eyes and sighed in the same manner his sister often did. She strolled into the chamber and smiled, ignoring his foul disposition. “How are you feeling this afternoon?”

  “Well enough to be up and about,” he grumbled.

  “Maybe in a few days if you follow directions and rest.”

  He grunted though she didn’t deserve his scowls and ill humor. Wasn’t her fault boredom drove him mad.

  She raised a brow and plopped into the chair beside the bed. “Would you like me to finish Dorothy’s story?”

  He nodded, keeping the smile tempting his lips to himself. The more time they spent together, the more he wanted her. Wanted her in a way he shouldn’t. He wanted her as his wife.

  “Let’s see, where were we? Oh, yeah. Our heroine and her companions are greeted at the gate by a horse of another color. As they travel through the city in a grand carriage, the horse’s coat changed from blue to green to yellow to orange to red.”

  Patrick leaned against the pillows and allowed her sultry voice to flow over him, into him, to heal him. He’d nearly fallen into a doze when he noticed a change in her tone.

  “She clicked the heels of her ruby slippers together and said the magic words and woke in her room at home as if from a dream.”

  Laurie’s words cut deep. “Is that what you hope will happen? That you will wake and all of this…” Patrick waved his arm, “was nothing more than a dream?”

  “No, I—”

  “I am sorry, lass. You dinnae deserve my rancor.” Of course, she still wished to go home. He hadn’t given her a reason to want to stay.

  “No worries. Most men make bad patients.”

  He cleared the lump from his throat. “Have you tended many men?”

  “Just you.”

  What would make her want to remain with him? The answer stole his breath. He needed a distraction, unnerved with the path of his thoughts. “Tell me another story.

  “I think not. It’s time for you to rest.” She leaned in and pulled the covers over his chest.

  Her warmth embraced him. He wanted to kiss her, to pull her close and hold her within his arms. Protect h
er from a world full of danger.

  Laurie patted his arm. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours with your supper.”

  He grasped her hand and gently squeezed before releasing her fingers. “I thank you for caring for me.”

  Her eyes misted and held his gaze.

  “Be off with you and let me take my rest,” his voice cracked.

  He watched her walk across the chamber. She stopped at the doorway, turned and waved her fingers before leaving. Patrick dragged his hand over his face. He hadn’t let her finish what she was about to say. What would she have said if he hadn’t interrupted her? He should have asked before she departed.

  After several days passed, he still hadn’t asked Laurie, but his strength returned. He couldn’t stay in bed any longer. He rose, dressed and went in search of his lady. Aye, she was his lady.

  He found her alone in the garden, humming softly while weeding. Sunbeams played with the golden highlights of her hair. His chest tightened with a sensation he was becoming far too accustomed to. He wanted her more than he believed possible. Life was too short. Easily stolen by the slice of a blade. His decision firmed in his mind—she would be his forever.

  His footfalls were silent as he navigated the garden paths and stopped behind Laurie.

  “Lass, you take my breath away.”

  Startled by the unexpected voice behind her, Laurie fell backwards onto the ground. She narrowed her eyes at Patrick. “You frightened me.”

  “Forgive me.” He offered a hand to help her to her feet.

  Happiness twirled around her heart at the sight of him outside, away from the sick room. The tender expression on his face made her stomach flutter, and she found herself staring at him.

  “Speechless?”

  What could she say, mesmerized as she was by his smile and the smoldering intensity in his alluring blue eyes?

  “Come.” He took her hand, escorting her to a wood bench near one of the walls. Recently bloomed yarrow surrounded them. They sat and gazed at each other. Everything else faded away. There was nothing in the world but them.

  They started to speak at the same instant, stopped, and smiled at each other. “You’ve something to tell me,” Patrick said.

  “Yes, but it seems you wish to say something also. You go first.”

  “You began saying something the other day, but I interrupted. Tell me now.”

  “Okay. I’ve been thinking.” Laurie swallowed. “Since I can’t go home. And, since you said you wanted me. Blast it. I don’t know how to say this.”

  Patrick stared at her intently, waiting.

  Taking a deep, shaky breath, she plunged in. “If you still want me… That is, if you still want me as your mistress… Well, then…”

  Confusion clouded Patrick’s features.

  “I’ll be your mistress. That is...if you still want me,” she blurted the words.

  Patrick’s jaw tightened his expression sour. “You will be my mistress?”

  She winced. Confused by his sharp tone, she warily nodded.

  “Let me understand. This is because you cannae go home?”

  Laurie frowned. “That’s not what I meant. I have feelings for you.”

  “But, you dinnae love me?”

  Shit. She’d messed this up. Why couldn’t she just come out with it?

  “All right. If you must know—I love you. You overbearing goon.” She shoved her hands against his chest. Even after the fever, she wasn’t strong enough to push him off the bench.

  Patrick grinned. He reached for her hand and squeezed. “I dinnae want you for a mistress.”

  Tears burned the back of her eyes. “You don’t?”

  He didn’t want her. She’d opened her heart to him, and he didn’t want her. Disappointment and embarrassment collided, singeing her cheeks.

  “Nae, sweetling. I wish to wed with you.” He shifted his weight on the bench. “That is, if you will have me.”

  “What did you say?” Had she heard him right? “Say it again.”

  He squeezed her hand. “Lady Laurie, will you wed with me?”

  Happiness effervesced within her chest until she remembered what his uncle said and Elspeth confirmed. Patrick was already betrothed.

  The play of emotions crossing Laurie’s face concerned Patrick. She seemed confused then angry. He didn’t like it. She was supposed to fall into his arms. She’d said she loved him.

  She pulled her hand from his and placed balled fists on her hips. “What of Isobell Lamont and the betrothal agreement your uncle is constantly sniping about?”

  “Ach, lass.” He understood where her fear lay. “There was never an agreement. My father never would have agreed to the marriage without my goodwill. He was verra much in love with my mother before she died, and later was blessed to find love with Elspeth’s mother. He never would have condemned me to a loveless marriage.”

  “But your uncle claims there is a contract.”

  “Aye. He wishes it thus. When I was a child, my father negotiated for a marriage contract between my elder brother Donald and Isobell Lamont. When Donald died, there was talk of my wedding the lass. However, they never finalized an agreement. My da gave me the choice. I could not wed the lass, not without love. Now, her father and I are sworn enemies.”

  “But weeks ago, you said you couldn’t marry me.”

  “True.” Patrick smiled. “I determined I would not wed anyone in order to keep the peace. I believed in time Lamont would give up and wed Isobell to another.”

  “What changed?”

  “I don’t believe Lamont will relinquish and allow Isobell to wed another. I make matters worse by staying unwed. Besides, I want you. I cannae live without you.” Reaching down, he grasped her hand again, caressing the palm with a gentle touch. “I ask you again. Will you wed with me?”

  “Yes.” Laurie bestowed upon him a brilliant smile, which glowed bright as the sun.

  He took her face into his hands, bent his head and brushed a sweet, gentle kiss across her lips. Leaning back, he gazed into misty, blue eyes and saw their shared future. He would make a family with the love of his life.

  “In a fortnight, we will journey to the fair in Glasgow, where I will procure your betrothal ring.” Hopefully, they could sail past Lamont territory unmolested.

  * * *

  Caitrina stood in the shadow of the garden wall, unseen by the lovers. If she possessed a one-hundred-percent mortal heart, she’d be gushing over the scene playing out before her eyes. As it was, with a halfling heart, she remained merely amused.

  She believed from the beginning, she’d win this round, the next, and the next. The only requirement remaining to complete this match was for the MacLachlan chief to plant his seed. Considering the testosterone he threw off, the carnal joining would happen soon.

  Caitrina tasted freedom on the wind. It wouldn’t be long. Her royal status would be restored along with the right to return to Tir-nan-Óg.

  Suddenly, an unexpected tingling skittered across her skin, warning of fae activity. Something was wrong. She held motionless, sensing a power surge surround her. One second, she watched Patrick kiss Laurie. The next, she was in the queen’s antechamber.

  The disoriented sensation from the unexpected realm-hop passed quickly and the nausea subsided, but trepidation built. Many human centuries had trudged by since she visited the palace. The last had been the awful day of her banishment. Now she found herself summoned by the High Faerie Queen.

  The large room was much the same as she remembered. Silver columns and crystal walls, brilliant sapphire gemstones in cut-glass bowls, luxuriant royal blue velvets and silks draped about, all to enhance the silvery splendor of the High Queen.

  In the center of the chamber lay the white brocade chaise on which Oonagh lounged in comfort, a smug smile playing on sensuous lips.

  “So good of you to attend me,” she purred.

  “What do you want?” Caitrina demanded as she hid trembling hands within the folds of her gown. They did
n’t shake from fear but from resentment. Oonagh must know of her progress. The queen wouldn’t play fair. She’d interfere with the mating.

  Whatever the queen intended meant trouble.

  Caitrina couldn’t allow it. She’d need to think of a way to stop the queen. Perhaps she could find an ally.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Castle Lachlan

  A sennight later, Munn pinched the bridge of his nose and tried desperately to think.

  Something he preferred not do.

  He sat in one of the crenels on the battlements, unseen by the guards. They tramped to and fro, striding from corner post to corner post, eyes directed beyond the castle walls.

  Bored with their repeated motion, Munn gazed out across the loch. The water was calm tonight, a contrast to his circling thoughts.

  “What was he to do?” he grumbled, forgetting to mute his voice.

  One of the warriors shot a look in Munn’s direction, furrowed his brow, and returned his gaze to the shadows beyond the walls. At any other time, Munn would have fun and spook the guard. Tonight he had a dilemma. The MacLachlan planned to wed the woman from the future.

  Munn couldn’t allow it to happen. Although she seemed to care for the chief, he must stop the match. But how? If they consummated their marriage, his vow to Oonagh would be broken. The queen would condemn him to an eternity entrapped within the Sands of Time.

  A punishment far worse than the most tortured death.

  Torn between his loyalty to Patrick and to his vow to the queen, Munn sadly shook his head. He needed to do something soon, betray his chief or break his vow.

  He didn’t wish to do either, but knew which would cause the most damage to him. With a shudder, he dissolved into the breeze.

  * * *

  Laurie could barely contain the joy radiating from her heart. She wanted to whirl around the room and dance a jig. Instead, she sat in front of the fireless hearth in Elspeth’s solar, pretending to concentrate on the embroidery hoop in her hand. She glanced at her future sister-in-law seated beside her.

  The young woman glowed with energy. Overjoyed by the news of the upcoming wedding, Elspeth swept Laurie through a whirlwind of activity during the past week.