The Highlander's Folly (The Novels of Loch Moigh Book 3)

by Barbara Longley

  “Really?” True’s eyes widened. “You didn’t mention that either.”

  “I’d prefer that you stop trying to solve that little mystery,” Meghan said, glancing at Erin and True. “What about you two? Can you read me?” The two women shared a look before nodding. “Great.”

  “We can’t read your mind, Meghan. I can tell whether or not you’re healthy, and True can tell when you’re trying to hide something.” Erin shrugged. “Stuff like that. For the most part, unless someone wants me to do a reading, I turn it off. I won’t invade your privacy and neither will True.”

  “Oh.” Still ruffled by the whole notion, she changed the subject. “Laird, do you have any objections to my teaching the squires and pages hand-to-hand combat? It’ll give me something to do until we can figure out a way to send me home.”

  “Och, we’ve grown accustomed to the extraordinary over the years.” William smiled at his daughter-in-law and Erin. “Nay, I’ve no objections. You may begin on the morrow. Have we sent a messenger to Castle Inverness to alert them to send word should Madame Giselle return to her cottage?”

  “Aye, and I also have several men out scouring the countryside in search of the Romany we encountered. If we can locate the band of wanderers, we may find Giselle is with them still.” Hunter met her eyes. “Cecil has offered his aid.”

  “I don’t trust him.” Meghan’s eyes widened. “First he accused me of being a faerie, and then he accused me of being a witch. Why is he even here?”

  “We dinna trust him either, lass,” Malcolm said in a soothing tone. “’Tis best that we keep him close. Hunter senses he seeks some sort of personal gain where you’re concerned. We suspect you are the sole reason for his sudden appearance here at Moigh Hall.”

  She swallowed her rising panic. “Cecil demanded that Hunter take me into the woods, tie me up and leave me behind for the faeries. He, Gregory, their pages and squires snuck off in the middle of the night just to get away from me. And now he turns up here and thinks he can get something from me? What on earth do I have that he wants? All I own is my sword and the clothing I wore the day Hunter brought me to this century.”

  “Mayhap he believes you are fae, and he’s reconsidered the ramifications of his hasty actions. Mayhap he wishes to form some sort of alliance with the fae through you.” Hunter’s eyes took on a determined glint. “I willna let any harm come to you, Beag Curaidh. You have my word. I will protect you with my life if need be. In the meantime, avoid any circumstance where you might find yourself alone with him.”

  Hunter came to stand before her. “Come, let me show you to the lists whilst there is still light. If you are to begin training on the morrow, you’ll want to ken where to find us.”

  “I’ll join you.” Robley rose from his place.

  “Robley, I think we’d better go check on Hannah and the boys. Losing their grandfather has been traumatic for them, and they need our reassurance before they go to sleep,” Erin said. “Our bairns need you more than Meghan does right now.”

  “Humph.” Robley’s brow furrowed. “All right. I suppose ’tis safe enough. Remember all I told you, Meg.”

  A flush heated her face.

  True laughed. “She’s a grown woman, Rob, and a wee warrior besides. Stop acting like a mother hen clucking after her chick.”

  “Her da would no’ forgive me if I let aught—”

  “God’s blood! I will be right beside her,” Hunter said, raking a hand through his hair.

  “Aye, I ken as much.” Robley glared at him. “Young, gently bred ladies—”

  “Oh stop.” Erin snorted. “You didn’t give a rat’s behind about comportment when I came here with you. In fact, I remember a few times when—”

  “Wheesht, mo anam. ’Tis precisely why I worry over her now.”

  “Come, Meghan.” Hunter opened the door. “Let us walk to the lists. You have naught to worry about, Rob. Her virtue is safe with me.”

  Dang, not exactly the words she longed to hear. “All right. Lead the way.” Meghan followed him out of the solar and down the corridor. She had to jog to keep up with his long strides. “Where’s the fire?”

  He stopped and looked at her in confusion. “I suspect ’tis in the hearth where it belongs. Why would you ask such a thing?”

  “To get your attention.” She lifted her chin. “Why are we in such a hurry?”

  He peered down the hall in both directions, then stepped closer. “What was revealed about me in the solar . . .” His jaw tightened. “I’ll tell you all once we’re outside these walls.” He took her elbow and led her toward the stairs. “’Tis no’ something I wish to share where there might be anyone lurking about, hoping to hear a juicy tidbit of gossip to spread.”

  She’d been scared to death when Cecil accused her of being a witch. Maybe Hunter had good reason to keep his abilities to himself. “All right. You can trust me. You know that, right? I’ve got your back.” He grinned at her, his eyes filled with warmth and amusement. Her insides melted.

  “You are a mystery to me in more ways than one, Beag Curaidh. ’Twas I who took you from your place and time, and yet you bear me no ill will.”

  “Wasn’t your fault.” They reached the great hall, and he continued to lead her toward the large double doors to the outside. He let go of her arm to swing them wide, and she preceded him out into the cool spring evening and down the stairs to the inner bailey. The sun cast long shadows, turning their silhouettes disproportionately tall and stretched thin as they made their way to the northern side of Moigh Hall.

  “Aye, ’twas entirely my fault. I ken Giselle well enough. I should have refused her.”

  “If you had, I’m sure she would’ve found another way to toss me into your era. Maybe Rosemary is right, and I’m meant to teach all of you another way to fight.”

  He grunted and took her arm again. A large open field lay before her, with sparse patches of grass sprouting here and there through the sandy soil. A quintain and jousting rail had been set on the far edge closest to the lake, and wooden benches hugged the stone wall of the keep. The lists were empty.

  “The quintain reminds me.” She picked up a stick and crouched. “We’ll need a couple of punching bags for the martial arts training.” Drawing in the dirt, she illustrated what was needed. “They’re like quintains, only they don’t swivel around on their frames. Plus, the bags have to be longer, preferably made of leather and weighted, so that we can kick them at about chest height.” She glanced up to find Hunter studying her drawing. “What do you think?”

  “Och, I see.” He rubbed his chin. “To practice what you did to me the day we met?”

  “Exactly.”

  “I’ll see it done. ’Twill take but a few days to install them.” He studied the lists and pointed toward an empty spot across from the quintain. “Mayhap over there?”

  “Perfect. That’s where I’ll train then.” She rose, dropped the stick and dusted off her hands.

  “Would you care to sit, my lady?” he asked, gesturing toward the benches. “We need to talk.”

  “OK.” Her breath hitching, she headed for the nearest bench and sank down.

  Hunter paced before her. “Besides Tieren and my foster family, none ken that I have fae gifts.”

  She nodded, realized he wasn’t looking at her and said, “I understand. You have good reasons to keep it to yourself.”

  “Aye.” He sat next to her. “I’m sorry I did no’ tell you before today. ’Tis a difficult thing to trust another with such damning information. Given the circumstances though, you’ve a right to the truth.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Giselle is kin to me. I get my fae abilities from her.”

  Her brow rose. “Oh.”

  He got up to pace some more, and his jaw muscles twitched away. “I wish that it were not thus, and if there were some way I could rid myself of that
part of me, I would.”

  She frowned. “Why?”

  “’Tis unnatural,” he bit out, his expression tight.

  “Is it? I don’t see it that way. Aren’t the fae as real as any other living creature on God’s green earth? They exist in this world; therefore, they can’t be anything but natural. You’re a fine man, Hunter, and you use your gifts for good. Right?”

  He shrugged and stared out over the bare field.

  “Have you ever used them to hurt or manipulate anyone?”

  “Nay. ’Twould be dishonorable to do such a thing.” He glanced at her for a second and then away. “I have used them to profit though, and that must be a sin. I use my abilities to prevail against my enemies and to win at contests of skill and strength.” His Adam’s apple bobbed a couple of times. “I oft ask myself what I did to deserve such a trial. I am plagued with guilt over the advantages I possess. The fortune I earned in tournaments . . . can I truly claim it as mine? Would I have won anything at all had I no’ been able to anticipate the intent of my opponents?”

  “I’m sure you would have,” she told him in a firm tone. “Even with the ability to anticipate your opponent’s moves, you’d still have to possess superior skill to win. You need to lighten up; stop being so hard on yourself.”

  “Lighten up?” He huffed out a breath and sat back down. “You find me corpulent?”

  “I was referring to your mood. There’s nothing unnatural about you or your abilities. It’s just unfortunate that you live in an age so rife with superstitious fears. If you lived in my era, you wouldn’t perceive your gifts as cause for guilt and recrimination. I don’t see a problem where your abilities are concerned. I see them as advantageous.” She shifted around to face him. “They are a part of who you are, but they aren’t the sum total. How you act on it is the key. You’ve chosen the right path, and I for one am glad to know you.”

  “Sum total?” He chuckled. “Och, lass, I’ve no’ shared this with another soul, no’ even Tieren. I should no’ be laying my worries at your feet. You’ve enough to concern yourself with at present.”

  “There you go into hard-on-yourself territory again.” She grinned and pushed at his shoulder. “I’m glad you shared with me, but it does lead to other questions.”

  “Such as?” He looked askance at her.

  “Why do you suppose your extrasensory perceptions don’t work with me?” Should she tell him exactly how relieved she was that he couldn’t get a handle on what she felt at any given time? Nope.

  Hunter scrubbed both hands over his face. “I dinna ken, but ’tis restful, and I find I’m gladdened by the lack. With you, I imagine myself to be like any other lad, and I find I quite like being ordinary.” He shot her a wry look. “Have you any notion what ’tis like to be constantly inundated by emotions emanating from all and sundry?”

  “That would be tough to handle.”

  “Aye, tough to handle indeed.”

  Hunter reached for her hand and clasped it in his. His callused skin against hers played havoc with her nerves. Her pulse shot off the charts, and her mouth went dry. She could hardly breathe for fear she’d break the spell of intimacy cocooning them. She bit her lip. She could really fall for him—she already had fallen for him a little bit. What was he feeling for her right now? She thanked whatever powers that be that she was the one person he couldn’t read.

  He squeezed her hand, rose and tugged her up to standing. “Come, my lady.” He let go of her. “I’d best return you to the keep lest your overly protective guardian comes looking for us.”

  “I suppose.” She smoothed her gown, straightening the outer surcot so it draped just right. Hunter put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. He leaned toward her, and she closed her eyes, sure she was about to be kissed. His unique masculine scent intoxicated her, and she was close enough to feel the heat radiating from him. Her heart danced around in her chest, and a wave of desire weakened her knees. He placed a chaste peck on her forehead and stepped back.

  Dammit. She had to bite her tongue to keep the groan of frustration from escaping from her all too dry mouth. Without thinking, she placed her palms on his cheeks, raised herself up on tiptoes and planted her mouth on his.

  He stiffened, pulled back and stared at her with a scowl. She stopped breathing and stared back. His gaze roamed over her face, fixed on her mouth, and the next thing she knew, she was crushed against his chest, and his tongue was doing a delicious sweep around hers. Yes.

  She kissed him back, circling his neck with her arms and letting go of all control. Every part of her throbbed and fluttered. This was a kiss of epic proportions, and she didn’t want it to end. Ever.

  He broke the kiss, put his hands on her shoulders and set her away from him. His breaths were labored, heavy. He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. Again she forgot how to breathe. Was she about to be rejected, or was his reaction just that of a fifteenth-century knight who’d transgressed the boundaries of propriety?

  “I . . .” He plowed both hands through his thick hair, hair she longed to run her fingers through. “I should no’ have done that. My apologies.”

  An apology? Disappointment and hurt chased the lust right out of her. “I’m the one who kissed you, Hunter. I guess I’m the one who should apologize.”

  “Nay. Robley gave you into my keeping this eve, and I am responsible.” He took a couple of deep breaths. “Let us no’ dwell on it overmuch.” He placed his hand on her elbow again and guided her toward the inner bailey. “My thanks for your willing ear this eve, Beag Curaidh. You have lightened me up exceedingly well.”

  Great. He wanted to pretend their kiss hadn’t happened. Her pride shredded like wet tissue paper. Had she been mistaken about their mutual attraction? Her heart still pounded with a mixture of arousal and embarrassment. Fine. She could suck it up as well as anybody. She could pretend kissing him hadn’t been amazing. “You’re welcome. I’m here for you if you should ever need to talk about anything.”

  “And I hope you will come to me as well if aught troubles you. Snatching you from your father’s side has been a boon to me, lass. I hope I can find a way to repay you for your generous nature. Tell me about your family. You must miss them, aye?”

  “I do,” she murmured, her eyes stinging again. “I have two older brothers, Kevin and Aaron. My mom is a pediatrician, and Kevin is a physician’s assistant. He’s married, and I have a niece named Allison. We call her Allie.” She sighed. “She’s so cute. I’m teaching her how to play lords and ladies with her Barbie and Ken dolls.”

  “I see.”

  She grinned. “Do you really?”

  “Nay, but it pleases me to hear you speak of it.” He gave her a lopsided grin. “’Tis certain you have many suitors at home, lass. Was there anyone in particular?”

  “I dated plenty, but . . .” She shrugged. “Keep in mind, my dad . . .” A grin broke free as memories flooded through her. “Well, you can take the man out of the thirteenth century, but you can’t take the thirteenth century out of the man.”

  “I dinna ken your meaning.”

  “Imagine, if you will, a young man from the twenty-first century coming to pick me up for an evening out being greeted by a knight from your era. One of the first things my dad did, after intimidating my date with glares, wide stances and crossed arms, was to invite the hapless soul into his man cave.”

  “Man cave?” Puzzlement filled Hunter’s eyes.

  “His chamber in the lower level of our home . . . the place where he kept all of his swords, daggers and war clubs on display.”

  Hunter chuckled. “Ah, I begin to see how that might put a damper on your date’s enthusiasm. Robley has told me how much men have weakened from our time to yours. ’Tis difficult to imagine.”

  “That’s not entirely true.” She cast him a glance. “There are men and women warriors in our age who are
every bit as powerful as you are. Soldiers, professional athletes, boxers . . . all kinds. Keep in mind Robley was with us for a very limited time, and the circle of people he met while there was small.”

  “Och, for certes you have it aright. You yourself are a fine example of just such a warrior.”

  She nodded, and her heart rate and breathing came down a few notches. She could do this. She could carry on a normal conversation as if she hadn’t just made a pass at him and been rejected.

  “It’s nice to talk about my family.” She glanced at him. “My brother Aaron is an accountant and still single. My dad owns a fencing club, and it really bothered him at first that neither of my brothers wanted to go into business with him on a full-time basis. They both fence, fight with broadswords and joust though. Occasionally they’ll do exhibitions with us at the Renaissance fairs.” She took a deep, calming breath before continuing.

  “I am the only one of the three of us who works for the family business, and I love it. I love working with my dad and performing at the fairs. I have big plans for . . . for . . .” Her throat closed up, and her eyes filled. Too much. After the way Hunter had put her aside, missing her family was the last Jenga block to be pulled out before her entire tower collapsed. What if she never got back home? She stopped walking. What if she never saw her family again for as long as she lived?

  “Och.” Hunter drew her into his arms, confusing her further. “Dinna fash, Beag Curaidh.” He rocked her back and forth while she cried against his linen shirt. “No matter what it takes, I will convince Madame Giselle to send you back to your home. After all, she is my granddam many generations past. I shall become like a thistle pricking at her skin until she relents.”

  “What ails you, Lady Meghan?” Tieren strode across the bailey to join them. “What has Hunter done now to make you weep so?”

  Hunter stiffened and stepped away from her. “I took her from her time and place,” he bit out. “Is that no’ enough to make her weep?”