by Pam Binder
She tapped lightly on the book. “True, but I have the basic idea. You want to take care of me. That’s not necessary. In fact, maybe we should reconsider the whole betrothal thing.”
Lachlan sighed. He was no closer to discovering whether or not it was the Guardian who had brought Amber to these shores the night he pulled her from Loch Ness. If the legend had come to pass, Amber would return in a very short span of time. The thought disturbed him. Each day he would seek her out on some pretext or other. He smiled. She had an opinion about everything. If she were not connected to the legend, the betrothal would not be necessary. A few of his men had already expressed an interest in her. They would keep their distance, but not if the betrothal was absolved. He did not like to think of that, nor for that matter, of Amber with another man.
He heard the soft tap of Amber’s foot on the stone floor.
“Do you always take this long to answer a simple yes or no question?”
He needed the wisdom of the gods to form the right words to say to her. That it was important flashed in his mind as sharp as the point of his sword. “The answer as to whether or not we should be betrothed is not an easy one. There is a rank and order to things. An unattached female makes everyone uneasy. I would not put you at risk.” There was truth in his words. He hoped she could hear them.
He heard laughter and saw Elaenor running down the hallway toward him. It had been a long time since he had seen his sister in such a happy state. There was little doubt that the friendship Amber offered was responsible.
Elaenor stopped short. “Angus announced there will be a festival in Inverness to celebrate the bountiful harvest as well as the unseasonably good weather. He also suggested that you would be willing to take us.”
Lachlan stood. “Did he now? I have not the time to indulge in such things. There shall be other festivals.”
“There will not be another until next year.” Elaenor looked at Amber. “Tell Lachlan he has to take us.”
He turned just in time to see the expression on Amber’s face. He was doomed.
“Your brother wants to take care of us.” Amber emphasized the last few words as if they were a challenge. She glared straight at him, pinning him to the wall with her words. “Seeing to our happiness would come under that heading. I’m sure he will be happy to take us to the festival.”
Elaenor hugged him and then kissed him on the cheek. “You are wonderful to us, Brother.”
He watched helplessly as she grabbed Amber’s hand and walked down the hallway. Amber turned to wave at him. He had the distinct impression that he was no longer master of his castle.
Chapter 5
The creaking of leather mingled with the rhythmic sound of the horses’ over the travel-worn road. Amber clung to the saddle of her mare. Lachlan led the group. She decided he was in his King of the Hill role today, aloof, distant and still wondering how he got talked into taking them all to the festival. Amber was glad he wasn’t talking to her. She had begun to enjoy his company too much.
Lachlan was followed closely by Angus, Gavin and Elaenor. A half dozen men rode behind Amber, no doubt ready to pick up the pieces if she fell off her horse. They were all going to Inverness. How ironic. She’d spent most of her first day in the sixteenth century trying to convince herself that the people at Urquhart were reenacting a Renaissance or medieval festival. Now that was exactly where she was headed, but she was the one playing dress-up instead of Lachlan and his man.
Through the occasional break in the dense foliage, Amber caught a glimpse of the waters of Loch Ness in the morning light. She knew this stretch of road through Fairy Glen. During her three summers working as a tour guide on a blue and white bus painted with the pictures of a smiling Nessie, she’d traveled this road twice a day. The green serpent-like creature had been sprawled along the length of the bus. She wondered if the shadow she’d seen under the water that first night really was the Loch Ness monster. She looked out over the water. In four hundred years the trees would be thinned out so the tourists would have a better view of the water and of the elusive creature that haunted the loch. She wished she were riding in the air-conditioned bus, instead of on the back of a horse. Every muscle in her body ached.
The sound of a solitary eagle’s cry as it flew overhead pierced the tranquility. It was completely alone. That was not so terrible, was it? Amber had felt the same way in Seattle. She felt she could accomplish more when she was alone. And, after all, she had her independence and her job. What more did she need? She straightened in the saddle. She didn’t like having time to think. Amber wanted her own life back. The life that wouldn’t allow her the luxury of reflection. She tried to adjust into a more comfortable position on top of her horse, but gave up. Una had produced a trunk full of clothes for her to wear, but the material was heavy and most of the gowns drab in color. She wondered how much trouble she’d get into if she tried to show someone how to make slacks.
Her long, heavy dress was bunched up, she was beginning to sweat and she was hungry. It seemed to be taking forever to travel on horseback the eight to ten miles from Urquhart to Inverness. To make this occasion even more perfect, she would be sore for days. Just one more thing she’d have to endure.
She knew she was wallowing, no, fully submerged in self-pity. It felt good. She deserved it. The last few weeks had been spent trying to make the most of her situation, either by teaching Gavin and Elaenor, or trying to find out how she’d arrived in the sixteenth century. Convincing herself she had the opportunity of a lifetime to observe medieval life firsthand was not working. Where’d it get her? On top of a smelly, flea-bitten horse and no closer to finding a way home.
The animal whinnied and tossed its head. Amber looked up. They’d stopped. Now what? They couldn’t have arrived in Inverness yet. They had not passed the spot where she knew a haunted house would stand one day. A messenger approached Lachlan and handed something to him. She saw him glance at the folded piece of paper before giving it to Elaenor. The young woman ripped the seal open and began to read. When she’d finished she looked in the direction of the loch and then back down at the letter. Amber was too far away to hear their whispered conversation, but Lachlan seemed upset. His sister reached over and kissed him on the cheek before turning her horse around.
Elaenor reined in her horse as she approached Amber. “I must return to Urquhart at once. This letter is from a close friend of mine. Elizabeth wrote to me about a theory we share. I have to test it. I must not delay in my research.”
Amber had noticed that in just the short time she’d been at Urquhart, Elaenor ate little, slept less and was always bent over a book or manuscript of some kind. Amber’s horse leaned its head down and began to nibble on the tall grass by the side of the road. She pulled on the reins, but the horse just shook its head and resumed eating. If she had a sugar cube or carrot she would eat it herself before she’d give it to the beast. She hoped she was better with humans.
If ever there was someone who needed a holiday, it was Lachlan’s sister. “You were looking forward to the festival.”
Elaenor took the letter out of the folds of her dress. “You don’t understand.”
Amber knew Elaenor wasn’t talking about the ingredients in shortbread. If she ever got back to Seattle, she’d dispel the notion that women of this time period were content to sit around and do needlepoint. But the young woman still needed to take a break.
“Your mind will work better if you take time to relax. Can’t your theory wait until after the festival?”
Elaenor looked down at the letter in her hand. She seemed to be weighing her options. “Lachlan did say he would help me gain access to the old records if I attended the festival.”
Amber smiled. At least he didn’t think his sister’s interests were frivolous. She leaned over and patted the mare’s neck.
“Why don’t you consider your research postponed for a day, instead of canceled. Besides, I need help with my horse. It seems she has decided to be the one in
control.”
Elaenor laughed and gazed once again in the direction of Loch Ness. “You are right. I do so want to go to Inverness. The mystery has waited this long; I doubt that another day or two will matter.” She reached over and squeezed Amber’s hand. “I have been the cause of too much delay. It is time to resume our journey.”
The waters of Loch Ness reflected the clear mid-morning sky. Its jagged shoreline was softened by alders and lush underbrush. Amber walked beside Elaenor and waited for the young woman to speak. Ever since Lachlan’s sister had received the letter, she’d been lost in her own thoughts. Amber understood the need to sort out things on one’s own and didn’t interrupt her.
Elaenor sat on a fallen tree that was picked clean of branches and leaves by the harsh Highland winds. She adjusted her skirts and motioned for Amber to join her.
“The men will give us a short rest.”
Amber laughed and rubbed the back of her legs. “I think I’ll stand. I can’t decide if I’m glad we’re taking a break, or if I’d just as soon finish the ride on my bony horse quickly.”
A golden eagle flew overhead. Its cry rang over the hills as powerful wings propelled the bird in effortless slow motion toward the opposite shore. Amber watched its flight. It had been a long while since she’d had the luxury to just watch a bird fly without feeling she was wasting her time.
Elaenor picked up a small pebble and threw it into the water.
“You have an endless supply of time to spend with Gavin and me. And, we are most grateful.” Elaenor hesitated. “Lachlan needs someone to show him how to laugh.”
Amber cleared her throat to keep from smiling. “I think he likes being the serious type. He’s quite accomplished at it, too.”
Elaenor twirled the intricate silver ring on her finger. “He was not always as you see him now. I worry that he grows further and further away from us.” She looked over at Amber. “Please, before it is too late.”
Amber heard the shrill sounds of the eagle in the distance. Its cry echoed, mingling with Elaenor’s plea. Okay, so the man was obviously a workaholic. If he lived in the twentieth century he’d be a CEO of a major corporation, and a candidate for bypass surgery at age forty-five. Elaenor’s eyes glistened with tears as Amber sank down beside the young woman and put her arm around the girl’s shoulder. What was it about her that all someone had to do was say “please” and she would give in?
“Okay, I’ll do it, but there are no guarantees. I can only try.”
Elaenor nodded slowly. “I know.”
A command to mount the horse pierced the quiet. It was time to leave. Darn, they hadn’t been forgotten. She stood and motioned for Elaenor.
“Don’t worry, everything will be all right.”
Elaenor’s face brightened into a smile and she whispered a thank-you before moving to her horse.
Amber was not in as big a hurry. One of Lachlan’s men had helped her dismount from her horse and there would no doubt be someone there to help her remount the beast from hell. And to top off the day, she’d just made a promise she didn’t know how she was going to keep.
Elaenor and Gavin rode ahead of Amber along the narrow path to a place where water splashed and churned over the smooth rocks in an inlet off the River Ness. It was an eerie feeling to be on die outskirts of town and still have none of the buildings look familiar. Lachlan led the procession into Inverness. A handful of his men were behind her. Banners in gold, red and blue fluttered on poles surrounding the field. The festival was in full swing.
Lachlan raised his arm signaling for them to stop and she reined in her mount. It appeared that he intended to leave their horses by the river and walk the rest of the way to town. A quarter mile at the most but it would seem like five in her long dress. She raised herself in the saddle to get a better view and nearly lost her balance. As she righted herself the horse turned its head and stared at her.
Amber straightened. “What are you looking at?”
Up ahead Lachlan and the party dismounted. Gavin and Elaenor slid to the ground and waved to her before handing their reins to Angus. They hurried toward what looked like a Punch-and-Judy show. Behind her Amber heard the sound of metal and leather as the men followed Lachlan’s command. Well, she’d climbed on this beast, getting off should be a snap.
The sun warmed her face as she unhooked her knee from the saddle and readjusted her weight Parts of her felt numb. The same person who had invented women’s corsets had probably been consulted on sidesaddles. Amber took her foot out of the stirrup and jumped to the ground. She fell forward, landing face first. Something sharp poked her. Amber pushed herself to a sitting position and rubbed her chin. It was sore to the touch and felt as though she’d scraped off a layer or two of skin. Terrific. Her face had zeroed in on the one protruding rock in the vicinity.
The men who had ridden behind her hurried to her side, but backed away as if on cure when Lachlan’s shadow blocked the sun. He smelled of leather, horse, and impatience. A scowl covered his face. Something had set him off. Most likely something she’d done, or failed to do. He’d probably wanted to help her down off the monster horse, and she’d robbed him of the opportunity to play the chivalrous knight. Good.
“You have injured yourself. You should have waited for my aid.”
She ignored the hand he offered and struggled to her feet. Her loss of pride at her clumsiness hurt worse than the bruises. She had always considered herself coordinated, had even played soccer in college on a scholarship. She brushed away loose grass and twigs.
“I thought I could handle getting off the beast.”
“Her name is Guinevere. And you should not be afraid to ask for my help.”
He shouted to his men. “Secure the horses.” The sound of his voice startled a covey of quail in a nearby bush. They flew off.
Amber watched as his men hurried to obey his commands. Great, they would follow him through the proverbial gates of hell, and he was releasing his frustrations with her on them.
“Do you always have to shout so loud? I think the sound of your voice carried all die way to Urquhart Castle.”
He faced away from her, his back an impenetrable wall. “You need not concern yourself in such matters.”
She counted to ten, in Latin. An accomplishment her parents had insisted upon. But even struggling over the ancient language hadn’t succeeded in calming her down. “I just don’t think you need to yell to get your point across.”
He ignored her. This man was hopeless. Keeping her promise to Elaenor was going to be next to impossible if Amber couldn’t prevent Lachlan from taking himself too seriously. An idea formed that would both show him it was not a good idea to ignore her as well as distract him from his tirade. She rummaged through the leather bag Una had packed and pulled out a thick slice of cheese, wrapped in a cloth. Amber uncovered it, broke off a chunk and walked over to him. She tapped him on the shoulder, interrupting his latest string of command. So much the better.
As he turned around, his brows drew together in a line across his face. A snarling pit bull would look cute next to this man. And Elaenor wanted her to turn him into a fun-loving lapdog? Impossible. She reached for his hand and placed the cheese in his open palm. “Put this in your mouth, it will keep it occupied.” He frowned. “No one has ever talked to me thus.” As fierce as he was trying to look she noticed his expression change. The man was trying not to smile. She pressed her point. “Everyone is afraid to disagree with their laird. You say, ‘jump’ and they say, ‘how high.’ Don’t expect me to do the same.”
He made a slight bow. When he raised his head, the corners of his mouth were definitely turned up in a smile.
Amber relaxed. Maybe there was hope for him yet. She headed in the direction she’d seen Elaenor and Gavin go. The aroma of fresh baked bread and pies laced with cinnamon floated through the morning breeze. Shouts of children’s laughter mingled with the lively notes of a fiddle. The festival was in full swing and she was going to have a good ti
me. She looked over her shoulder. Lachlan was watching her. Amber suppressed the impulse to wave at him and decided the trip on the beast might have been worth it after all.
Gray stone buildings obstructed the light and warmth of the afternoon sun as Lachlan walked beside Angus in silence. Their horses’ hooves clattered over the cobblestones and drowned out the laughter and merriment of the festival crowd at Inverness. A vision of Amber as she listened to Gavin reading aloud from The Canterbury Tales came to mind. The tranquil scene had made him forget who he was for a time.
As he turned a corner he saw the Rose and Thistle Inn. The shouts of men and the words of a bawdy song drifted toward him. Angus slapped him on the back and pointed in the direction of a sign that creaked and swayed in the afternoon breeze. ,
“ ‘Tis a welcome sight, laddie, after the long ride from Urquhart. I shall secure our accommodations and a warm meal.”
Angus tossed the reins of his horse to a boy about Gavin’s age before entering the inn. Lachlan hesitated. The boy was dressed in little more than dirty rags. Cupping the boy’s chin, he tilted the lad’s face toward him.
“By what name are you called?”
“Thomas, sire.” His voice rang clear and strong.
A man burst from the tavern, stumbled and then passed out on the dusty road. His plaid was indistinguishable; his face scarred by the harsh life he had lived. The bright colors and laughter of the festival could not hide the poverty and despair that claimed many in the Highlands. Lachlan reached into the leather pouch strapped to his belt and pulled out a coin. He placed it in the boy’s hand.
“Take care of the horses. Now, off with you.”
Thomas led the horses to a stable behind the tavern. He looked to be a sturdy lad with a spirit that had not been crushed by hard times. If Lachlan discovered the boy was without family or man, he would take him back to Urquhart.
Lachlan entered the tavern, brushing the dust from the road off his plaid. Dim light filtered through the dirt-encrusted windows and rested in the pub where men crowded together in hushed conversation. A young woman, her clothes as faded and worn as the oak beams that crisscrossed the ceiling overhead, offered him a tankard of ale. He accepted the drink, tossed her a coin and looked around.