The Elusive Highlander

by Ju Ephraime

  “I needn’t bother to say come in. You’re already in. What can I do for you?”

  “Naught for now, lass. We’ll see what happens later.” His dark eyes studied her intently while he kept his grin. Then, giving her a final appreciative glance, he held out his hand.

  “I’m Tristan Campbell. Alasdair asked me to post a couple of guards at yer door and to implore ye to remain in yer room.”

  “Hi, Tristan, good to meet you. I take it the Laird is your brother.”

  “Aye, Dair and I are brothers.”

  “Dair, hmmm. Why does Dair think I should do anything other than remain in my room? I’ve been in this room ever since he had Gertrude bring me up here. Where would I be going?”

  “Don’t play the innocent, lass. We both know ye’re fussing to escape this place and return to yer home.”

  “If only it was so easy.”

  “Aye, ’tis not easy to leave this place once ye arrive.”

  “Why? Do you go around holding everyone who gets here a prisoner?”

  “Aye. The country is at war. In case ye dinna notice.”

  “That has nothing to do with me, and don’t blame me for trying to escape,” she told him.

  “Why dae ye want to escape? Dae ye nae like it here?”

  “What’s to like? So far I’ve only seen the keep and the courtyard from my window. Wouldn’t you try to escape if you were me?”

  “Aye. Then again, I'm nae ye. Yer a fetching lassie, and I'm just a simple mon.”

  “Why, thank you, kind sir. But fetching or not, I’ve responsibilities in my home country that need to be taken care of.”

  “What responsibilities? Dae ye have a husband waiting for ye?”

  “No, but I have other responsibilities that don’t include a husband. I have a life that, though it may not involve a husband, is just as important.”

  “Ye’ll have to take it up with Dair. For now, I have tae report back tae him. He’ll sort out yer problems. Have no fear.”

  Coira noted his brogue was much thicker than Alasdair’s. She didn’t know whether to be glad or sad about his promise that Alasdair would sort out her problems out. It sounded pretty loaded.

  He walked out, and she heard the keys being fitted into the lock as he locked the door. She told herself she wasn’t going to cry, although she felt like bawling like a baby. She moved closer to the door, and she could hear voices before she heard footsteps receding. She seemed to be listening to the sound of receding footsteps a lot.

  She just couldn’t believe she was in fourteenth century Scotland. How had that happened? Why her? What had she done or not done to deserve this? She was convinced she’d done something to make this happen to her. Resting her head against her forearms, she let the silent tears flow freely.

  When her bout of self-pity was over, she stretched out on the bed, fully clothed, listening to the sound of people living and going about their daily lives around her. She could hear the boisterous activities of the men in the keep and in the courtyard. It seemed as if there were a lot more men than there had been before. Just as she’d thought, there was no light outside. It was pitch-black. She stayed away from the window and tried to shut out the sounds the men were making. She was willing herself to sleep, hoping, when she next knew it, it would be another day, when she heard keys in the lock and the door was flung open. She knew who it was before she opened her eyes. It was as if he brought in electricity with him that charged the very air in the room.

  “We’re riding out tonight. Get yer things together,” he told her without any explanation.

  “What’s there to get together?” she asked him sarcastically. “I only have the clothes I arrived in.”

  “Get that together then and the things Gertrude gave ye of my sister’s.”

  She threw the few items into the bag he handed her and stood there looking daggers at him.

  “Where are we going? I really don’t want to move away from here in the event I could return home.”

  “I’ve already told ye I don’t believe ye can return home, whether yer here or elsewhere.”

  “I’ll never know, will I? Especially if I leave this area. Where are we going anyway?”

  “Ye’ll know when ye get there, and hear this, I’ll nae marry ye.”

  “What prosperous nonsense. I never asked for you to marry me.”

  “Well, by yer coming here, that’s the inevitable outcome.”

  “No it’s not. And I didn’t come here, as you put it. I’m weary of telling you I don’t know how I happen to be here. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to marry you.”

  “I don’t have the time for any more arguments. We have to be on our way.” And, with that, he took hold of her hand and they exited the keep in the dead of night.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The journey to Inveraray and Inveraray Castle would be forever imprinted in Coira's memory. It took two days to get to Inveraray Castle. Two days that took her farther away from her point of entry into Scotland.

  Coira could no longer believe it was not real. The countryside they were traveling through was real enough. The land was lush and wild, its untouched beauty like nothing she’d seen before. Although she’d visited the Scottish Highlands several times with her parents, she had never seen such unbelievable landscape. There were no roads, just dirt tracks that seemed to go on forever.

  She, Alasdair, and two of his men, Gilean and Duncan, rode ahead of his entourage. She found out these two men were Knights Templars who were in his army. She was acutely aware of the Knights’ gazes on her the entire time and was very uncomfortable in their company.

  Coira didn’t speak unless spoken to, and even then, she kept it to a minimum. She had read the Knights Templar didn’t trust women and had chosen a life of celibacy. She didn’t know what they’d do if they found out she was from the future. So she kept quiet for fear of slipping up around them.

  The first night they journeyed across Scotland, a full moon lit their way, as if it were daylight. The rest of Alasdair’s men caught up with them, and now they were accompanied by the thunder of hundreds of horses, some carrying packs and heavily muscled men wrapped in plaid blankets. Although she was wrapped in two thick blankets and an animal pelt, she was still shivering from the cold. It didn’t help matters that she was also on horseback, something she had never done before.

  After only a few hours in the saddle, her body ached all over. Coira tried to take her mind off her discomfort by focusing on the unbelievable vista that lay before her. Her gaze was everywhere, trying to take it all in. She tried her best to avoid looking at Alasdair, whose face was set in a grim line. She didn’t know what had upset him, but she kept quiet as they rode along.

  He stayed beside her the entire way, not speaking. Several times, she caught him watching her. She hid her discomfort from him, determined not to reveal any weakness to the Laird, especially as she could tell he was angry. What she couldn’t comprehend was why his anger seemed directed at her. What had she done to earn his displeasure? What had caused him to pick up and leave in the dead of night? She was curious to know, yet she hesitated to ask him. To begin with, the Knights seemed to always be within hearing distance, and second, Alasdair's expression did not encourage conversation. He did move away from her occasionally to talk with his men in low, hushed voices. She couldn’t tell what they were discussing; the brogue was too thick for her to understand, even if she could hear them.

  They passed several villages where a few people were still about, but for the most part, it was quiet and asleep. As dawn was approaching, they came upon a village that was just coming awake. The villagers came out to greet them. They treated Alasdair like royalty. He, on the other hand, remained detached and aloof as he accepted their greetings. Children gazed as him in awe, and old men smiled proudly while young men followed him admiringly. However, the greatest nuisance was the women. They gave him flirtatious glances beneath bashfully lowered lids.

  In more than one of t
he villages they passed through, he was offered small gifts and tokens from the women who tried to lure him off into private conversation. She had to hand it to him. He never wavered in his graciousness to them, but they got nothing more from him. Coira was certain this would not have been the case had Tristan been present, although she didn’t see how even he could have managed it because they were riding hard. They rarely stopped for long. The first night, they slept only for a few hours, before they were on their way again.

  The trip took two full days. This was rugged territory, not like anything she was used to coming from the twenty-first century.

  They rode straight through the second night, and arrived at the outskirts of Inveraray as dawn was breaking. From there is was a short ride to the castle. Coira became even more agitated when she saw the enormous structure. How was she to escape from there and make her way back home? She had never stopped worrying about her dad. How was he faring? She wished she was visiting under different circumstances and that her parents had been able to be with her. She knew they’d appreciate the beauty of the land. It was a land that indeed made her believe in magic.

  It was the middle of winter, and though the temperature was cold, it was nothing like what she’d left back in Manhattan. She had yet to see any snow.

  Coira marveled at the beauty of the Highlands and despaired over the fate in store for her. She was dreading entering the castle. Somehow she felt as long as she was outside, it would be possible for her to escape, and even if she wasn’t free, she felt free outside. She didn’t know what to expect once she entered the castle.

  * * * *

  Coira had purposely kept herself from thinking about what she’d find in the castle. This would only be the second castle she’d been in and they both belong to Alasdair. She had not been in Campbell Castle too long to form an opinion, because she’d arrived in its keep and was kept in a room on the top floor for the rest of the time.

  At Inveraray Castle, on the other hand, she was approaching the building from the front and was impressed by the structure.

  It was an elegant stone structure, towering on the hilltop in all its glory. In the early hours of the morning, the place was eerily silent; the hush was broken only by the sounds of the horses and the sighs of weary men. That soon changed as they entered the courtyard.

  She could see the castle was comprised of a four-story tower house complete with three turrets. The structure sat on a hilltop, as if it was a permanent part of the landscape. It was as magnificent as the Laird who owned it. Brilliantly lit by torches, it seemed to cast a spell on the entire valley. Wide archways led into the various wings. Coira could see the guards walking the parapets on the high turrets that were strategically placed so the guards could see anyone approaching the castle.

  Exhausted beyond the ability to think straight, Coira gave her horse its head and allowed it to carry her into the stable. She was almost asleep when she felt two hands encircle her waist and lift her off the horse. Opening her eyes, she found herself staring into the shockingly blue eyes of the Laird.

  “Welcome to Castle Inveraray. Ye must be exhausted. I am sorry we had to ride so hard, but it was critical that we put distance between us and our visitors at Campbell Castle.”

  “That’s okay. You don’t have to apologize or explain anything to me. I’m a big girl. I handled the ride.” She would not show him any weakness or display any interest in his home for fear of giving him the wrong impression.

  “Come, I’ll have one of the maids attend ye.”

  Coira followed him into the communal hall, and although she was too tired to appreciate the true beauty of the place, she could see, just from a brief glance, that it was magnificent, though very crowded at the moment. She just wanted to lie down on a comfortable bed and allow her body to stretch out so it would stop hurting.

  He entered ahead of her and was greeted by his entire staff assembled in the communal hall. She missed a step when they all yelled as one, “Welcome home, my Laird.”

  “Aye, aye,” he answered briefly. Coira could see he was still angry about whatever had upset him and had him fleeing his keep in the middle of night. She knew it had to do with her because a great deal of the anger was directed at her. She didn’t know what she could have done to warrant it, but there it was.

  He called out, “Imogene.”

  A tall, skinny girl answered him, “Aye, my Laird.”

  “Coira is my guest. I’m assigning ye to serve her. Was a chamber prepared for her as I requested?”

  “Aye, my Laird. I prepared the blue chamber.”

  The blue room happened to be on the upper floor. So Coira mustered up some energy and followed her up the steep flight of stairs and down two corridors before she stopped in front of a blue door. She didn’t know what to expect. All she knew was that anything was better than the past five nights on the road.

  “Here ye are, mlady. I’ll fetch ye some hot water to freshen up.”

  “Thank you, Imogene. I don’t know if I have the energy for that, but we’ll see.”

  “Would ye like me to fix ye a tray, m’lady?”

  “Yes, could you?”

  She left, and a few minutes later, she brought Coira a tray with a bowl of soup and bread. The soup was delicious. It was the best thing she’d had in days. She tried her best to slow down eating it, but she still found herself gobbling it down in minutes.

  She lay down on the bed and was asleep immediately. She never undressed. Coira slept the entire day and through the night. She woke only for a moment during the course of the night when she felt herself being lifted and placed beneath the blanket.

  The next morning, the noise of the house woke her. She had now been seven days in the Highlands of Scotland.

  Coira was lying on the bed, taking stock of her surroundings. This room was beautiful; the walls hung with deep blue silk intertwined with yards of tapestries in the clan colors. Her bed, similar to the one at the keep, had a canopy, but unlike the one at the keep, which was very masculine looking, this one was a feminine version. It was decorated with sheer ivory linen and covered with dozens of pillows. It was still much larger than any bed she had ever slept in. It was as large as a California king. The headboard was very ornate with several little drawers. Some were filled with cinnamon and spices as well as dried flowers. She wondered why they’d gone to such lengths to make her room comfortable.

  She’d been too tired when she arrived the previous day to appreciate the trouble; now it struck her as odd. She had better not get too comfortable. She still had the dilemma of finding her way back to address. She had no clue where she was. This was a vast country with lots of untamed countryside. How was she ever to escape?

  Just then, there was a knock at the door. She wondered who it could be. Part of her wished it was Alasdair and part of her didn’t. She hadn’t seen him in more than twenty-four hours.

  “Come in.”

  The door opened, and Imogene walked in.

  “Are ye well rested, m’lady? Ye slept through tha day and night.”

  “Yes, I believe so, Imogene. Is it too late to go outside?”

  “Nay, m’lady. We’re just about preparing bracaist. Would ye like a tray brought in to ye, or are ye ready to have bracaist in the great hall?”

  “I believe I’ll have a tray brought in, after I’ve freshened up a bit. Can I have water brought in for a bath?”

  “Aye, m’lady. I’ll have it set up shortly.”

  Imogene made several trips, bringing the hot water to the room, which she emptied into a round wooden tub. Coira was wondering how to tell her she didn’t need anyone helping her take a bath when it occurred to her she’d be keeping her from doing her job. The problem was she hadn’t needed anyone’s help in bathing since age six. And from then to now, no one had ever seen her taking a bath.

  After the tub was filled, she was about to shoo Imogene away when she realized she needed help to undo all the tiny buttons going down the length of the back of the g
own she was wearing.

  “Let me help ye, m’lady? Ye canna get to the fastening.”

  After several tries, she finally gave in and presented her with her back.

  Imogene did short work of those buttons, and in no time, she was down to bare skin. Coira hurriedly stepped inside the tub and lowered herself into the water. It felt wonderful. There were some beautifully scented oils and a bar of soap next to it, and she was able to give herself a good cleaning with the bar of soap.

  “Would ye like to wash yer hair, m’lady?”

  Coira was about to refuse when she thought that, no doubt, her hair could do with a wash.

  “How do I wash my hair in this tub, Imogene?”

  “Simple, m’lady. I’ll help ye with the washing and then pour the fresh jugs of water over it for ye to rinse it off.”

  “That’s a brilliant idea, Imogene.”

  “M’lady, are ye English?”

  “No. I’m from America.”

  “Where’s that, m’lady. Is that a place in England?”

  “No. It’s a place far away from here.”

  “How did ye come to be ’ere? m’lady?”

  “It’s a long story, Imogene. I’ll tell you when we have more time. Right now I want to get myself ready to go outside.”

  “I’ll bring ye a breakfast tray, m’lady, as soon as we are done washing yer hair. Ye must be hungry.”

  “I am. It must have been the long ride.”

  Between the two of them, they made short work of giving her hair a good wash before she wrapped it in a thick towel and sat down while Imogene tried to remove all the water from her hair.

  She was left alone to complete her dressing. Her hair was a mess, not having seen a blow dryer in over a week. It was now a perfusion of unruly curls, and there was not a thing she could do about it.

  Imogene was back with the tray of food, which she set down on the night table next to the bed. Coira was astounded by the amount of food she was expected to eat for breakfast. There was a jug of milk, a couple slices of fresh bread with some sort of sausage, fried eggs, and a medley of fresh cloudberries and cherries. This was covered liberally with honey, giving it a very unique taste. She was a coffee drinker, and she hadn’t had a drink in days, and although she’d missed it while they were traveling, this breakfast more than made up for it.