Highland Charm: First Fantasies
Page 103
* * *
Caitrina tensed. Douglas couldn’t possibly know she was hidden in the alley watching. She’d covered herself in an extra thick cloak of invisibility. There was no way he could sense her presence. Mortals didn’t have such a gift.
Then why was he staring right at her?
To make matters worse, she felt a tremor of fae energy charge the air.
Caitrina grabbed her head over her ears as pain pierced her skull.
“I forbid you to use the MacIntyre warrior before his training is complete.”
The queen’s words bored a hole in her forehead and Caitrina nearly lost hold of her glamour. Douglas narrowed his eyes and took a couple of steps into the alley. Caitrina concentrated hard, caught a wisp of a breeze, and vanished through time.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Strathlachlan
“Lady Laurie!”
She heard her name through the thick fog clouding her brain. She made a halfhearted effort to open her eyes, but it was too difficult. It was easier to stay as she was—half asleep.
The man’s voice sounded far away, yet she sensed he was near.
“Lady Laurie, wake up,” demanded the harsh, masculine voice.
Someone shook her. Why would anyone do such a thing? And why did her head hurt so much? She made a soft moaning noise, annoyed the voice added to her misery, magnifying the pain already thumping in her head.
“Lass, wake.”
The insistent tone of the voice finally penetrated her fuzzy mind. She forced her eyes open, only to find Duncan hovering over her, his facial features taut.
“I’m awake.” She tried to swat him away. “Leave me alone.”
He forced her to sit against a nearby tree. “How badly are you hurt?”
“Hurt?” Laurie squeezed her eyes shut against the bright light assaulting her. “Oh…my head, I think. What are you doing here? Why are you in my room?”
She opened her eyes a slit while gingerly rubbing the bump on the back of her head with a trembling hand. The feel of sand in her hair surprised her. Bringing her hand around to the front of her face, she stared at it. Moist sand covered her fingers.
“Your room? Dinnae you ken you were kidnapped by two men and dumped on this beach?” Duncan’s voice grew sharper with each word. He scanned the area. “I fear someone may be watching us. I dinnae ken why those men left you here. I have a feeling they will come back for you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“This might be part of an elaborate trap. We need to get you to the safety of the castle.”
Bright morning sunlight pierced Laurie’s eyes. She groaned and shut them tight. Then it hit her. The men were supposed to take her across the bay to where horses waited. Then they were to escort her to the hut near the Fir-wood. They must have knocked her out instead and deserted her here. But why?
“How did you find me? Donald’s men were to take me away so I could go to Fir-wood and find my way home. Why did they hit me? Why did they leave me here?”
“To France? From Fir-wood? Your injury must be verra serious if you think you can get to France from the Fir-wood. On a horse, nae less. And those men, they were nae MacLachlans, at least none loyal to the chief. Why were you with them to begin with?”
The fierceness of his voice made Laurie cringe. She sat a little straighter and took a good look around. They were at the edge of a beach somewhere, but she didn’t recognize any of the landmarks. Somewhat embarrassed she’d gotten herself into this mess, she nervously looked at Duncan. “Where are we?”
“At the head of the loch. Took me the whole of the night to find you. ’Twill take us the whole of the day to return to Castle Lachlan.”
“How did you find me?” Laurie asked.
He gave her a severe scowl. “I was walking along the passageway when I saw two wee shadowy figures enter the storage room and only one come out. I confronted Moira and she told me you ran away. Why would that be, lass?”
“You know as well as everyone else at the castle. Patrick will wed Isobell Lamont. I must leave.”
“Nae, lass, you belong to the chief. Nae matter what happens, you are one of us now.”
If only that were the truth, but it wasn’t. She was right to leave. Now she must convince Duncan to take her to the Fir-wood before the full moon set this evening and she lost this chance to return home. She didn’t want to contemplate what would happen if she had to wait for the next full moon.
Laurie fluttered her eyelashes, giving him her best smile. Then she winced from the pain throbbing at her temples.
He shook his head. “You are a handful.”
Shrugging, she gazed off over the hills. “How far are we from Fir-wood?”
He thought for a moment. “Not far. Less than a day’s walk, nae more. Why do you ask? You are not thinking of going there?”
Slowly, Laurie stood. She stumbled at first, but caught her balance. The sand itched and she brushed it from her skin and straightened to her full height. “We’d best get started.”
“Nae, we will not go to the Fir-wood. We will return to the castle in yonder currach.” Duncan glared. “And the chief can put you over his knee again and beat some sense into you.”
“Now Duncan, you know Patrick will marry Isobell. Where will that leave me?” She raised her hands.
“You are one of us now. The chief will see to you.”
“No, he won’t. Point me in the right direction. I’ll go to Fir-wood on my own. I need to arrive there before the moon sets.” Laurie glanced toward the tree line, where several paths entered the woods. Which way was the right direction?
“Lady Laurie—”
She spun to face Duncan. “Tell me!”
He gaped. Closing his mouth, he tightened his lips into a taut line and gave her a hard look. “Do you plan to go to the faerie knoll again?”
“Yeah. I need to go there in order to return to my home.” She gave him her best smile, pleading with her eyes and lips, hoping to coax him. She’d no qualms about using feminine charm.
He narrowed his eyes then his mouth fell open again. “You sprouted wings!” His eyes widened. “Are you one of the faeries?”
“What?” She glanced over her shoulder. “What are you talking about?”
“I saw golden wings.” He frowned. “Now they are gone. Are you a faerie?”
She should tell him he was crazy. But…
She hated to deceive him, to play on his ignorance, on his superstition. However, this was an emergency. She crossed her fingers behind her back. “Yes, I am. I’ve lost my way. I need your help to return to the faerie knoll to find my way again.”
He stepped back and shook his head
“Will you help me? Please.” She smiled and bated her eyelashes.
He scanned the beach with a fierce frown. “This is deeply troubling. The faeries are a power to reckon with.”
An understatement. She prayed Caitrina didn’t catch wind of what she planned and stop her.
“If I dinnae help you, your brethren will likely cause havoc and devastate MacLachlan lands,” he continued.
Laurie lowered her head and gazed at him through her lashes.
“Where is Munn when trouble is afoot?” he mumbled.
She kept smiling at him, hoping he would cave.
With hands on hips, he glared at her. “I will take you. But I dinnae like it.”
He glanced toward the water, and back at Laurie. “Wait here.” He walked to the shore’s edge and pulled the currach up higher onto the beach and into the woods, covering it with brush to hide it. He returned to her, still mumbling to himself under his breath. “I ken I will regret this decision to get mixed up in matters of the Sithichean.”
Laurie hid her triumphant smile behind her hand. He truly was a sweet teddy bear.
She’d miss him once she was safe at home.
* * *
Munn applauded himself. He’d frightened off the northern men, and spent the whole of the night guiding D
uncan’s small boat without the lad being the wiser. Munn grinned, relieved to see the pair on their way. For if they dallied, Maclay’s men would surely find the two.
He snickered. The warriors from the northern clan would be angry when they learned they lost their prize.
The chief won’t like it, but Munn needed to make certain the lady from the future returned to the future, to where she belonged. That was the only way he could ensure she and the chief stayed apart, enabling Munn to keep his vow to the faerie queen. He just needed to make sure Duncan got her to the Fir-wood before the full moon set. Until then, he’d keep Maclay’s men from finding her. Then she’d be gone.
And he’d be free once again to serve his chief.
Setting off to foil the Maclay men’s pursuit, he lost control of his body, pulled by an incredibly strong force in another direction. He fought the unknown power with all his strength, but it was too much for him. He spun out of control, whirling through the veil of time and space.
* * *
Laurie and Duncan walked for most of the morning, only stopping briefly for water at a narrow burn, a small crystal-clear stream bubbling through the rocks. They’d just set off again and were cutting across a field when the sound of galloping horses thundered.
A hooded horseman rode from a trail in the woods in front of them, swinging a battle-axe. Another rider followed the first. Others on foot came from behind, carrying wooden staffs and other makeshift weapons.
“Maclays!” Duncan pulled her behind him, his claymore at the ready. He never got a chance to swing his large sword. The first horse charged him, knocking him to the ground where his head hit against a rock.
Laurie screamed as she barely fell out of the way of the horse’s hoofs. She managed to get back on her feet and ran in terror.
Her attempt to escape was useless. The men quickly surrounded her. She screamed, and screamed, and screamed. It didn’t matter. No friend would hear her. Duncan lay unconscious, or possibly dead.
The leering men encircled her, playing a game of cat and mouse. They taunted and teased, poked at her with their staffs, grabbed at her hair and clothing. She twirled around kicking out.
One large man caught her. She wildly fought him off, using her arms and legs until something hard hit the side of her head. Blinded by a bright explosion of light, she fell.
* * *
Munn managed to break away from the force that controlled him, materializing atop a limb of a tall oak. He watched the scene play out with disbelief. He failed again. Gripping his hands into tight fists, he grimaced. He was too late. He wasn’t strong enough to interfere. He was helpless to stop the flow of events.
He’d have to go to the queen and inform her. How would he explain this debacle?
Not only might she condemn him to an eternity in the Sands of Time. He’d heard stories. She might choose to torture him, causing unbearable pain and then imprison his soul in a jar, leaving him a shell of a body.
He sat for a while fretting over what he’d tell Oonagh. Completely self-absorbed, he was unaware of Caitrina’s presence until she shimmered, emerging into solid form to sit beside him on the thick limb.
He tensed.
“What have you done, you foolish meddling brownie?” Caitrina demanded before he said or did anything.
How dare the halfling question him?
“Naught!” he said. “I did only good. I brought Duncan to watch over the lass from the future.”
“And look what happened.”
“You can fix everything. Send her back where she came from. She does not belong here.”
Caitrina tried to control her nasty fae temper. He could see it in her stubborn eyes. “Why didn’t you stop this from happening?” she asked in a deceptively calm voice.
“I couldn’t. You used your power against me.” He fisted his hands at his waist. “You pulled me away. You ken I floated in endless time before you released me.”
“Not I.”
“Then who?”
“Oonagh,” they said in unison.
They glared at one another for several minutes before they both dissolved into fine dust and scattered with the wind.
* * *
Patrick woke, uttering a groan. His head throbbed and his tongue felt thick. He lifted his head from where it had fallen against the hard wood of his worktable and raised his hands to rub his temples. He glared at the empty cask. He’d drunk himself into a fine stupor during the dark hours of the night and must have passed out here in his private chamber.
Loud banging came from outside the door. Squinting against the bright light assaulting him from the un-shuttered window, he groaned again.
“Enter,” he thundered, wincing from the pain his own voice caused in his head.
Jamie stepped into the chamber, his eyes darting about.
“What is it?” Patrick growled, grimacing in misery.
“Duncan is missing. We cannae find him anywhere within the castle nor without. I have searched as have several other lads.”
“Perhaps he has hidden away with a willing lass,” Patrick offered, annoyed he’d been disturbed from his stupor for such foolishness.
“Nae. He was to keep an eye on Malcolm Maclay. Stephen ordered him to do so.”
An uncomfortable sensation burned in the pit of Patrick’s stomach. “And where is Maclay?”
“Gone.”
“Gone?” Patrick held an unsteady hand to his forehead.
“Aye. Lamont swears he doesn’t ken where.”
Cursing under his breath, Patrick rose from his chair. He ignored the aches and pains racking his body and strode toward Jamie. Then a terrible notion occurred to him. What if Laurie were missing too? He didn’t wish to consider that. The thought made him ill. But what if Maclay took her and Duncan had gone after them?
He charged past Jamie, out the door, across the passageway and up two levels to his bedchamber. Jamie’s footsteps echoed behind. When Patrick reached the chamber, he forced open the door. The wood slammed hard against the inner wall with an echoing thud.
There was no one there. No one slept in the bed. She was gone.
He raced to Elspeth’s solar. His sister glanced up from her needlework and blanched. “What is wrong?”
“Where is Laurie?”
“In her room.”
His roar was that of a wounded wild cat, a horrible sound filled with tormented anguish. “Damn them. She is gone.” He pushed past Jamie and headed for the stairs. He stopped and looked over his shoulder. “Where is Lamont?”
“Greeting his daughter in the great hall. She arrived with her maid and her guard.”
Patrick thought he’d burst. “Isobell has arrived?” The question a shout.
“Aye.”
Standing motionless, Patrick tried to guess at what was going on. He needed to find out. Had Laurie run from him or did Maclay have her? If Maclay had her, what would the bastard do to her? Patrick didn’t want to dwell on that horrifying contemplation.
His anger merged with his fear, forcing his temper to the surface. He bolted for the stairs ready to confront Lamont.
The man had manipulated Patrick and he didn’t like it. Not in the least.
He stopped short. He couldn’t make accusations without more information. He needed to be careful. Reaching deep inside himself, he sought calm, fought for a warrior’s control.
The only way to approach Lamont was with caution.
“Form a search party and see what you can discover. Find Duncan.” Patrick ran his hand through his disheveled hair. “And find the Lady Laurie. I beg you.”
“We will.”
“And, Jamie.”
“Aye.”
“You might try searching the Fir-wood. The Lady Laurie has a fondness for that eerie place.”
Patrick thought he best make himself presentable. He would meet his future bride, be civil to her father, and pretend all was well.
Pretend the woman he loved more than life wasn’t missing. Perhaps dea
d.
* * *
The castle wasn’t as awful as Isobell expected. The great hall was actually quite lovely. She gazed around the fine chamber, taking in its rich tapestries and carved furniture. The large stone hearth was beautiful, the fire inviting.
Several warriors sat at the lower tables, drinking from mugs.
The MacLachlan men stared at her with ill-disguised contempt.
How dare they? She didn’t want to be here any more than they wanted her to be.
In the past, her father always gave into her demands. Given her whatever she asked for. This time, he refused to even consider her desires. He was determined to wed her to the heartless enemy, her clan’s enemy, her enemy.
Patrick MacLachlan. His name alone made her shudder. There had been a time when she believed...
No. She shook her head. That was a long time ago. She’d been a mere child then. Now, she was a full-grown women and betrothed to the much-hated Patrick MacLachlan.
She cast an angry look at her father. She didn’t understand how he could be so cruel. MacLachlan would probably kill her. Poison her or do something else dreadful.
The sound of heavy footfalls brought her gaze to the stairs. There he was. She stiffened, her hands balled into tight fists at her side. He might be a fine looking man on the outside, might make many a lass swoon, but she knew he was a horrible monster on the inside with a glaciated heart.
Isobell stood at her father’s side, watching MacLachlan stride across the hall toward them, his steps long and sure. He appeared the cold warrior. She felt the blue ice of his dark eyes for a brief moment, and then they dismissed her as if she was insignificant. The MacLachlan directed the chill at her father.
“Lamont, I did not realize your lovely daughter would join us so soon. Our Aine is making ready a chamber in the east wing near that of the Lady Elspeth’s as we speak.” His frigid stare once again fell upon her.
She couldn’t help the shiver creeping down her spine when he took her hand, barely grazing the knuckles with his lips. His touch was like frost skimming across her skin. His lips like ice.
Her heart burned with hatred.