by Gill, Tamara
“Of course not. We’re not evil villains. And what is ‘hog-tie’? I don’t believe I’ve heard that saying before.”
Abby growled. “Okay. Fine. I understand that I can’t leave…yet. But you must promise that as soon as I can, you’ll allow me to go. How long does it normally take for a person to be able to travel back?”
“I promise as soon as I’m able, I will send you home. And as for the time, I’m not sure.” Gwen looked sheepish, and Abby sighed. “You see, I’ve never brought anyone back through time before. You were the first. I didn’t think it would be a problem, as I assumed you’d stay. My sincerest apologies for the distress I have caused ye, Abigail.”
Abby couldn’t form the words she was dying to yell at the woman. Gwen had never brought anyone back before? Did it mean she might never return home? Or if Gwen tried to return her to her own time, she could end up anywhere, perhaps blown to bits, or floating around space, even? Holy shit!
“Please leave. At this moment in time you’re far from my favorite person.”
“I’m sorry.”
Gwen ran from the room, tears brimming in her eyes. Abby slumped on the bed, the furs creating a false sense of security. How would she survive in this time where disease, malnutrition, and non-hygienic practices were as common as fleas?
She itched her head at the thought. There was no running water and no pharmaceutical medicines—only herbal remedies and prayer. What if she fell ill? Caught some disease she hadn’t been immunized against and died a painfully slow death?
Abby took a calming breath. She wouldn’t be here for long, she reminded herself. They would send her back as soon as it was safe. And she was a tough woman. The past two years had proven that, since the death of her boyfriend David. All she needed to do was stay calm and in control. Maybe she ought to take Gwen’s outstretched hand of friendship and clasp hold of it tight. She would need as many friends as she could get.
A servant entered bearing clothing and helped her get dressed. She looked down at the blue velvet gown with long sleeves that covered her hands when she held them at her side. It was very pretty. Silver stitching ran along the seams in an intricate pattern. All hand sewn. It would have taken forever to make. The workmanship was exquisite.
“I have a missive for ye, miss. The laird wanted me to wait for ye to read it, ask if you’re in agreement, before allowing ye to break yer fast in the great hall.” The servant handed her a piece of coarse paper.
Abby broke the wax seal and started to read.
Abigail,
If you agree to the terms as outlined by my sister Gwendolyn this morn, then please proceed to the great hall and join us in a repast. If you are unable to abide by our decree, you shall be locked in your quarters until you are dissuaded from the foolish course you’ve chosen.
Please give your answer to the servant.
Aedan MacLeod
Abby clenched her jaw, glaring at the words until her eyes crossed.
“What is ye reply, miss?” The servant looked at her with concern, but Abby knew she’d not stand a chance of getting past the woman should she go against the laird’s decree.
“I’m in agreement with the laird,” she said.
The servant smiled in relief. “Very good, miss.” Stepping aside to let her pass, she continued. “Laird MacLeod is waiting for ye.”
Nodding, but with no intention of eating with any of them, Abby slipped on shoes made of rawhide, held on by a tie that zigzagged across the dorsal of her foot, and walked from the room . They were rather comfortable.
The tower staircase was steep and long, coming out into a corridor that housed the front double doors. Abby headed straight for them, needing to get outside and away from this castle.
The storm that had passed through overnight was lessening. In between the clouds blue sky peeked through, teasing them with better weather. Abby studied the courtyard that looked out over the Isle of Skye. People milled about. Some carried food from the few vegetable gardens she could see, others worked with horses or hauled water from the well, an array of activities that reminded her of stories she’d read in history books.
Shaking her head, she struggled to comprehend what was happening to her. Shouts from the front of the castle caught her attention, and she headed that way. She walked over a bridge that covered a small, slow flowing creek and saw the endless, lush forests that encased the castle like a cocoon. She turned and looked back at the castle itself, so different from the one that stood in the twenty-first century. There must have been numerous alterations and additions through the years.
A couple of guards with swords walked the castle perimeter. They looked at her, men who had seen death, caused death, and would likely take life without a moment’s hesitation. Hardened soldiers who didn’t take fools lightly.
Abby quickened her steps away from them and headed along a rough riding track. There were some outlying cottages scattered about the forest and shoreline, and people tended to pigs and goats that were housed in small wooden yards.
Fear crept along her spine that this could be her future. How would she ever survive living in this time? Although she had no family back in the twenty-first century, she did have friends, even if no longer close. Her own fault, after pushing them all away, cocooning herself in grief after David’s death. But that didn’t mean she wanted to walk away from her life and her twenty-first century comforts, most of all.
She may not have a lot of money and she may have to work for a living, but it was her life, and to have it snatched away wasn’t right.
Anger replaced her fear, and she stopped walking. The sound of thumping hooves sounded behind her, and she turned to see Laird MacLeod riding hard toward her.
She hadn’t been able to get a very good look at him when she’d vomited on his feet. All of her memories after that were hazy at best. But whoa. She doubted she’d forget him ever again.
Large, muscular arms urged the horse forward. His legs, his very bare legs, beneath a kilt that was doing anything but sitting down about his knees, flexed and held him astride his horse.
Abby’s mouth dried up like the Sahara desert. Probably didn’t help that her mouth was hanging open and tapping the ground. She closed it with a snap and stepped off the road a little in case he decided to run her over and be rid of her for good. The thunderous glare he was bestowing on her only supported that theory.
I’m dead meat.
The horse skidded to a stop, and he slid off in one fluid movement. He towered over her, making her kink her neck to meet his gaze. He was angry, the thumping of the vein near his temple proof of that, but a flicker of something else briefly passed in his gaze. Was he worried about her? Highly doubtful. He didn’t even know her.
Abby pushed the thought aside and studied him instead. His shoulders were massive, built for sword fighting. A cloth looped over one shoulder and obscured part of his tunic covered chest. He was bronze-skinned, and the large muscles of his chest flexed with each breath. She bit her lip, not sure what to make of him other than the fact he was unbelievably hot.
Laird MacLeod stood with his legs apart, as if the package between them wouldn’t allow anything less. He cleared his throat, and her gaze snapped to his face. Heat bloomed on her neck and across her cheeks. She should have looked away and immediately chastised herself for not doing so. For to look at him was to fall into sin in the most delicious way she could imagine.
He had a strong jaw with a day’s growth of beard, a succulent mouth that begged to be nipped and kissed. Her hand itched to feel and stroke his wavy shoulder-length hair. Was it as soft as it looked? The fact he smelled of pine and clean soap wasn’t missed, either.
But it was his eyes that again made this world spin for her. They were, without doubt, the most beautiful green eyes she’d ever seen. Dark as the heather that grew wild around their feet.
Damn it.
“What do ye think you’re doing walking out the gates alone? Are ye daft, woman? A simpleton?”
She started at his words, not expecting such a harsh beginning to their conversation. “I beg your pardon. I’m none of those things. I wanted to go for a walk. To clear my head. Is that a crime?” Abby unclenched her hands at her side and made an effort to control her temper, which on occasion, had been unleashed on rude people like this barbaric Scottish ass.
“Scotland is not safe for a woman who isn’t well-versed in current situations that encompass our land. Were you headed for the woods? Do ye have a death wish, lass?”
Abby pushed past him and strode toward the forest. How dare they pull her through time and then be all high-handed with her. She gasped when a large hand circled her upper arm and turned her about. She glared up at him, wishing she was a little taller so she could look him in the eye when she gave him what-for. Her hand burned against his chest, and she shoved him away, not liking the way her stomach clenched when she touched him.
“If I do, it’s your sister’s fault for bringing me here, and to marry you, no less.”
“I’m only concerned for your safety. You were supposed to come down to break ye fast, not run away.”
“I’m in front of your castle, and I didn’t see the point of eating when I’m not hungry. Why can’t I walk out here? Are you annoyed because I didn’t join you for breakfast?” She didn’t think he was, but still, Abby didn’t really know what to think anymore. This whole situation was bizarre.
“Nay, Betsy told me you agreed to our terms, but when Braxton notified me of ye walking outside the castle grounds, I thought to check on ye.”
“Well, I’m fine, as you can see. Is it always going to be this way while I’m here? Is this time that bad that I can’t step a few hundred yards from the castle without being rounded up like a sheep?” He looked down at her as if she’d said the stupidest thing he’d ever heard.
“Women in this time are not always respected. I’ll let ye decide as to what that means.”
A cold shiver ran down her spine, and she looked into the darkened forest beyond, wondering who lay in wait for women, or anyone, she supposed, to use for their nefarious means. “I was only going to walk along the forest’s edge. I wasn’t going to enter into it.”
“It makes no difference. Ye should not pass the bridge beyond the castle itself.”
His words brooked no argument, and she narrowed her eyes at his tone. “I don’t know if it’s escaped your notice, but I’m a big girl, and I’m not stupid. I can take care of myself.” She hoped. Although, if the men lying in wait for women were even half the size of the one before her, Abby wasn’t all that confident she could save herself.
“Really?” One eyebrow cocked up. “Do explain.”
Not that he would understand… “I’ve taken self-defense classes. I’ve learned how to fight.” She kept the confession that she’d yet to use her abilities in such a way, but still, under pressure, surely they’d come to the fore and save her ass.
“It is doubtful any fighting lessons you’ve been taught would save you from a knife to the throat before you’re even aware yer foe’s behind ye.”
Abby swallowed, not liking the sound of that at all, or the fact he was probably right.
“Or an arrow strike to yer head.”
“Are you trying to scare me? Why would you say such awful things?”
He shook his head, sighing. “Because I’d rather send ye home alive, than bury ye here. That’s if we ever found yer body, of course.”
“So where can I go that’s safe? Surely, I’m not going to be stuck inside the castle permanently.” The thought of having no sunshine, no fresh air away from the peat smoke or the smell of unwashed bodies, made her cringe.
“If you stay to the front of the castle you’ll be safe enough. I have guards permanently stationed in that area, along with the castle servants who tend to the gardens and crops. I will have a servant accompany ye at all times to be safe.”
“With all the guards around, like you said, I should be fine. I don’t need a guard.”
He crossed his arms. “Ye will do as you’re told.”
“You said I should be fine in that part of the grounds. I don’t need a guard. I’m not royalty.” Would this man listen?
“I will not repeat myself. You will do as I say.” He made a growling noise, clasping his horse’s reins, the conversation apparently over. “I don’t know what my sister was thinking bringing ye here.”
“Neither do I. Like any normal, sane person would want to travel from the luxuries of life in the twenty-first century to this hard, dirty, seventeenth century Scotland. If you think I’m any happier about this situation, you’re wrong.” Abby’s hands shook as adrenaline started to pump through her veins. Oh, the audacity of the man. “You’re an overbearing brute who I’d never consider marrying.”
“I don’t believe I ever offered.”
“And I’d never want you to. And it’s no secret that I don’t want to fall in line with your little plan to act as a lady, either, but to save your ass and keep a roof over my head, I will. So, if I have to compromise on this, you can compromise about me having a guard.”
He bared his teeth and she stepped back, not liking the savage look in his eye. “Verra well. I’ll give ye that one wish, but be warned, I don’t want ye this side of the castle. I may not get to ye in time, if ye disobey me.”
Abby nodded, satisfied with this small victory. “We have a deal.” She held out her hand for him to shake. He looked at it and did nothing.
“You will learn to fall in with my plans, lass, or I’ll walk you into that forest that you’re so fond of and remove you from this earth myself.”
The murderous glint in his eye said he would do as he stated should she push him too far. Anger thrummed through every pore of her body. In this case, she would have to succumb to him. She would allow the brute to win this battle, but he wouldn’t win the war. And if he wanted a sweet, delightful lady who would compliment his guests, he had another thing coming.
“I said I would. I’ll fall in line, like all your little soldier men, but if you think for one moment that I’m enjoying myself, or that I’ll go out of my way to please you and your guests, you can think again. I’d rather eat Haggis.” Abby stormed back toward the castle and left the overbearing Scot behind her. She kicked up some dirt and one of the delicate shoes ripped. She rolled her eyes. Typical.
The thought of having to sit beside him at meals and play the lady irked her. This wasn’t her time. To be kind to people who pulled her through time for their own nefarious means was wrong.
Chapter Five
Aedan ran a hand through his hair and mounted his horse. The obstinate woman from the future stormed toward the castle, and he took a moment to enjoy the view of her swaying hips and delectable rump as she did so.
Numerous curses, some words he’d never heard before, were coming from her mouth. Aedan shook his head. He couldn’t blame the wench for being angry and upset. Had his sister sent him forward in time he would’ve reacted the same, if not worse.
He kicked his horse into a canter, and coming up next to her, he scooped her up and sat her before him on the horse. She screamed a high-pitch squeal that made his ears ring and then she clutched his neck.
“Hush, before the horse bolts and we both end up on the ground. Consider this ye first lesson. How to shut up and listen.”
She glared at him, quite ferociously, and Aedan had an overwhelming urge to shock her further and cover her puckered mouth with his own. Her lips were red and succulent and her teeth where white and straight, much healthier than a lot of the women in this time. He contemplated a kiss, until the hellion slapped his face. Hard.
The action rendered him mute. His hand tightened about her waist, pulling her harder against his chest. She gasped, the color in her cheeks deepening to crimson. “I’ll allow ye that once, lass, but try it again and I’ll not be held accountable for me actions.”
She pushed at his chest without success. “You would hit a woman? Why doesn�
��t that surprise me?”
He chuckled and shrugged. “You’re jumping to conclusions. I would never mark a woman with me hand or anything else for that matter.” He smirked. “Unless she wanted me to, of course, but there are other ways to keep you in line.”
“Urgh. You’re barbaric.”
They rode in silence for a time. Aedan admitted it was nice having a warm, delectable body snug against his chest. She smelled different from the other women he’d held as close. It was a sweet scent he’d never encountered before. He leaned in and realized it was her hair. Her dark locks had come free of the coiffure the servant had placed it in earlier, allowing her hair to cascade down her back unhindered.
Aedan’s body tightened with need. With every jolt of the horse, her rump rubbed against his groin, causing a pain of the best kind to thrum between his legs. She was a tempting lass, made him yearn to turn the woman around, kiss her senseless, and see if she’d be willing to tup him where they sat.
She wiggled away from him, and he smiled. “Something wrong, lass?”
“Other than the fact you are rubbing up against me inappropriately? No, of course nothing’s wrong.” Sarcasm dripped from her every word.
“I canna help the movements of the horse. If you hadn’t tried to run away I wouldn’t have had to chase ye in the first place.”
She turned and her defiant brown orbs met his. “I wasn’t running away. If it hasn’t escaped your notice, your sister is my only means home.” She paused, her breasts rising as she took a deep breath. “I merely went for a walk. How was I supposed to know your country is a death trap?”
“Mayhap you ought to thank me for joining ye before ye’d made the forest, as I may have been too late.”
She paled and looked toward the castle. He dinnae like to scare women, but in this instance, it was necessary. Scotland was in a relatively peaceful period, but the forests often held men, bad men, who wouldn’t blink twice at horrendous actions toward an unsuspecting woman. “Promise me ye won’t go off on your own again and if ye won’t do it for me, do it for yourself. We do plan on getting ye home. Alive.”