A Highlander's Home Page 2

  But where was he? He had been very vague when he had asked her to meet him after class. They were both history professors at the University. He had mentioned that he had discovered some “interesting” facts about the stone ruins that had been discovered in an old crop field miles out of town. To the professor, that meant that he had enough information to fill a book. Raine scanned the street from her seat in the coffee shop where she waited for him. It was not like him to be late – for anything.

  The sky darkened still and was threatening to discard its contents and wash away anything that was not nailed down. She dialed his phone, but no answer. Five more minutes and she would leave, trying to get home before the storm hit.

  Her mind wandered to the stones in that ancient field. The town she taught in was small with one purpose, to farm. A person could drive for miles and not see a soul for all the open range. Land was abundant here, but the weather was not so kind. For the better part of the year, the land was covered in white, powdery snow freezing the ground, making farming near impossible. There were acres of unexplored land here.

  Then someone had discovered the stones. These archaic, craggily, rugged stones that had been hidden for centuries in the open fields, left alone, forgotten.

  She left a few dollars on the counter, and pulled her collar up a little higher. The wind had picked up and carried a chill. Odd. It was spring. .

  The first droplet of water hit her smack on the top of her head just before she reached her car. Hurriedly she opened the door and started off. Maybe she could make it home before the downpour.

  Her hope was squashed when the heavens opened and the skies became a waterfall.

  She checked her cell phone. No message from the professor.

  Heading for her small house on the outskirts of town, she almost jumped out of her seat. She really should lower the volume on that phone.

  “Hello?” It was the professor.

  “Professor, speak up. I can’t hear you.”

  A broken, squeaky voice came through, “The stones….away….do not…near the stones.”

  Stay away from the stones? Why on Earth would she go near the stones? Especially in a rainstorm?

  “Professor? Are you at the stones? Professor?? Are you there?”

  Static was her response. Maybe he was at the stones and needed her help.

  She scanned the road ahead and squinted into the darkness, searching for the Professor. Just when she was about to give up, confident that he was nowhere near the stones and not in need of help, a figure leapt in front of her car, frantically waving its arms.

  Raine slammed the brakes and swerved. Professor! His wild hair was plastered to his head which made his round eyes look even larger in his small head. He was already opening the door and pulling her out into the rain with him.

  “Professor! What are you doing?”

  She pulled back trying to get back into the dryness of the car.

  “I told you not to come! To stay away! Maybe it’s better that you are here. You must come and see! I must have a witness!” the Professor shouted against the wind.

  “A witness to what, Professor? You told me to stay away from the stones tonight, didn’t you?”

  He waved his hand impatiently. “Yes, yes, but that was before! I think I figured it out!”

  He continued to drag her behind him to the edge of the circle of stones. He had a bag of books and a small table perched under a smaller tent that did nothing to stop the materials from getting soaked. He grabbed a book and began to babble about signs, weather, and other such things.

  The thunder and lightning were deafening close, drowning out most of his words, sending flashes across his face. She tried shouting that they should leave but the Professor just kept chattering. Suddenly, the air stilled. Raine looked around. Nothing stirred where just seconds ago it seemed the fury of hell itself was unleashed and trying to uproot everything in its path.

  Then the air got heavy. Breathing was becoming more difficult with each inhale. Professor Hayward looked up from his books and met her eyes. Her chest was heavy as she realized she was almost gasping for air.

  A gale of wind so hard and sudden seemed to knock her off of her feet. She was spinning through the air watching the professor growing smaller as she grappled through air and space. She was screaming but she heard no sound.

  She was no longer tumbling randomly through the black air with no breath in her lungs, but lying flat on her back staring at what seemed to be an early morning sky. She coughed as the brisk air seeped deeply into her burning lungs. She closed her eyes and inhaled the cold wet air. It must be a nightmare. A horrible, horrible nightmare.

  Chapter 3

  “Well?” came the growl.

  “Well, what?” returned the equally gruff reply.

  Robbie sighed and rubbed a thick hand through his red whiskers. The man was thick headed and tightlipped when he wanted to be.

  “What are ye going to do with the lass? Ye know what our mother will do.” He could picture their mother when she saw the new addition to their party.

  Leith frowned. “Aye. She will be fit to be tied. She will think we planned this wi’out her knowing. But the lass is my betrothed, and there be a wedding to plan. Mother will have the time of her life fussin’ about all the preparations.”

  “Ye still think she is the Lady?” Robbie scratched his beard. He looked at the lass and wondered. He had heard stories about his brother’s bride-to-be. Beautiful, always a lady, from a wealthy family, and British. Very, very British. Somehow, he did not think that her father, with his meticulous reputation, would approve of his daughter donning men’s trousers and running through a field in the Scottish countryside.

  The small group continued on their way, the horses needing very little direction since they had been this way hundreds of times before. Raine tried to keep a sense of direction, but all of those hills were beginning to look alike. Not that she would be able to find her way back to the place where she had been deposited. Not that she wanted to return there. But it kept her mind busy. Unfortunately not busy enough. She was wondering a thousand thoughts at once regarding what would happen once they reached wherever it was this dark haired devil was taking her. She rubbed her wrists where the ropes that held her tied to her saddle were chaffing. She escaped the blonde man and his horde only to be tied to a horse by his dark, blue eyed, very handsome cousin. And she was supposed to be his fiancé. Man, she thought, was he going to be just a tad ticked off when he realized that she was no lady.

  They reached what Leith had had referred to as his “dwelling” when she inquired as to their destination, complete with four tall towers emphasizing its long rectangular shape, with guards slowly pacing back and forth. The hard stone comprising the walls resembled rough marble. The drawbridge creaked as they rode over it. Raine peered into the moat that had the consistency of potato soup. An inner bailey with people milling about and a small number of children running about chasing dogs and cats, and all eyes seemed to be on her. She was uncomfortable being a stranger, but it was intensified by the fact that the ropes that tied her to her horse were clearly visible.

  The troop stopped in the outer bailey, and Leith and Robbie threw the reins of their horses to a small boy no older than nine and immediately placed their attention on her. They both just stood there, looking at her. Twins almost, except for their hair.

  Leith growled something to Robbie and frowned her way, then headed into the bailey. Robbie smirked as he sauntered over to Raine and started to untie her ropes. He pulled her down and held her while she steadied herself. Her legs felt like jelly and she had to lean on him until the blood began to flow back into her limbs. He walked her wordlessly into the stone castle, all the while with her eyes bulging out of her head like a tourist and took her up the winding staircase and deftly deposited her in a large room.

  He stopped at the huge, ornately carved door, and gave her one last look. She thought she saw a glimmer of pity in his eyes before he gr
owled and slammed the door and locked it after him.

  “Great,” she muttered. “Now what?”

  She slowly stepped over to the window and admired the enormous view of the acres of land and people and animals going on about their daily lives. She touched finely sewn tapestries on the walls and gawked at the enormous bed that took up a good part of the southern wall.

  She lived modestly, paid her bills on time, put a little something in the savings account she had, and tried not to be wasteful. But she could not help from throwing herself through the air to land on her back, sprawled on the bed. She let out a giggle. After endless hours in a hard saddle, it felt so wonderful to lay on a soft bed and stretch.

  Leith watched from the doorway. Maybe she had bumped her head when she landed on him. Her delight and awe was apparent. But it was after all just a room.

  He smiled to himself and cleared his throat. Raine jumped up and gave him a frown. “What?”

  “You are quite rude, lady,” he drawled as he headed her way. Sauntered, more like it, she thought. Long legs clad in skin tight leather that did nothing to hide his family jewels brought him towards her. He had removed his outer jacket and was wearing a billowing pirate-like shirt with a deep V that showed the sprinkling of hair on a very bronze chest.

  “You stare, lady.”

  Raine blinked and made a gruff noise in her throat. She tore her eyes away from that chest and lifted her chin.

  “I am not accustomed to large men sneaking up behind me.”

  He said nothing, but his slightly cocky smile turned into a hard glare.

  “Why am I here?” Maybe she could soothe the moment if she talked.

  His blue eyes stayed on her. “This is my home…your home.”

  She swallowed. She already had a home. Her home. She was still trying to figure out how she traveled through time to end up in medieval Scotland.

  Nonchalantly, she fingered the bedspread and asked, “What year is it?” She peeked at him beneath her lashes and hoped he did not try to put her in the dungeon for insanity.

  He did look at her strangely but answered, “It is the year of our Lord 1555.” He watched her.

  She exhaled and seemed to shrink in front of his eyes. Her temples began to ache. Surely this was just a dream. She had a life; she had a job, a cat even. The big Scotsman continued to look at her like she was a specimen under a microscope. She shifted on the bed.

  “Can you…I mean, do you….um, is there a – a – a – “She always stuttered when she was nervous.

  He tilted his head to the side, waiting.

  She decided to blurt it out. “I need a doctor.”

  He was on his knees before she had time to look down. “What is wrong? Are you hurt?”

  He started squeezing her arms, legs, hands, craning her neck this way and that as he searched. She batted his hands away.

  “No, I just need to see a doctor. You do have one here? In this place?”

  He took offense. “Of course, my lady. We are quite civilized here, I assure you.” His blue eyes were cold. “I shall send a servant to fetch him for ye immediately.” And then he was gone.

  She let out a breath. She had not meant to anger him, but she had to a medical opinion to confirm to herself that this place, this land, that she was still real.

  Less than a half hour later, there was a rapping on the door followed by a small man with wild white hair wearing a long brown robe. “My lady, you requested my services?” he asked in a deep voice that should have belonged to a much larger, robust man.

  She nodded. She briefly told him, with as few details as possible, that she had traveled a long distance and wanted reassurance from him that she was in good health. After a short examination, he told her she was as fit as a horse. His brown eyes that matched the dark hue of his robe stared at her. “My lady, from what land have you traveled?”

  How could she answer that when she did not even know where her land was or where this land was? She sighed. “It is a long way from her, Doctor.” She looked out the window. “A lifetime away.”

  He patted her head as if she were a child and suggested he escort her to the main hall where the evening meal would be served shortly. She freshened up and followed him through the maze of hallways and corridors. When they entered the great hall, all talking ceased, and she was suddenly the focal point of everyone. Again. There had to be over fifty people whose heads turned as she touched the landing. She raised an eyebrow and squinted at the doctor who just smiled at her.

  “My lady.” A deep voice from the front of the room carried to her. The Scotsman. He spoke those words with a possessive air whenever they were directed at her, and it was beginning to wear on her nerves.

  Chatter, although be it slow and soft, began again. The doctor took her elbow and, again as if she were a child and could not find her way across the room, walked her over to the table where the Scotsman was sitting. Her gaze never wavered as she made her way towards him, although her palms were moist.

  She was seated next to him in an elegantly carved chair with a red velvet covered cushion. Although she felt quite dwarfed sitting in such a huge piece of furniture, his chair was even larger. He somehow seemed to fit into quite nicely.

  The meal was served by a string of serving women. Pheasant, potatoes, fish, beef, and all manner of other things that she had never heard of were passed about the room. It seemed as soon as she took a bite, it was replaced without her even seeing it done.

  Leith was conversing with Robbie and several other men seated at the table but he was always aware of what his guest was doing. She picked at her food, smelled some of it, and tentatively tasted this or that. She was looking around the room as if she had never been on the inside of a castle at supper time. “Is the meal to your liking, my lady?”

  She barely glanced at him, her attention on the plate in front of her. “I suppose.” She frowned as a plate of fish with the head still on it staring at her made its way past her.

  Her lack of gratitude was grating on his nerves. He did not expect her to bow before him and sing his praises, but a her manners left much to be desired If she were to be his wife, he had better teach her he would not be taken advantage of.

  “Lady Brighton, perhaps you could be slightly more cordial to your host. Granted, we do not know each other very well, but if we are to be married then there should exist a certain amount of courtesy between us.”

  His voice was cold as was his gaze upon her.

  She blinked at him. “Raine. My name is Raine Carson, not Lady Brighton. And I do thank you for intervening earlier today, but you have mistaken me for someone else.”

  He opened his mouth but she cut him off. “And we are not getting married.”

  His frown was long and deep. She glanced at him sideways. She had to set the record straight before things got out of hand. When the real Lady Brighton showed up, all hell would break loose and then where would she be? In a Scottish prison stuck in the year 1555.

  His smile was like ice. “You have had a long day. Let me escort you to your room, my lady.” He practically ground out the last two words.

  He grabbed her wrist and forced her to drop her silverware while practically dragging her off the dais. A few of the men stopped eating long enough to watch their lord carry off his soon to be bride, but quickly returned to their meal. They had heard about how he had found her running from his less than scrupulous cousin. They also noticed that she spoke with a strange accent and preferred men’s clothing over that of the proper attire of a female.

  Raine tried to get her footing but could barely keep up with this oversized Scot. “Let me go, you brute!”

  He did not miss a step. His grip was a little too firm, and she had a crazy thought. What if he means to beat me? Or rape me? Make peace with the man, Raine. She swallowed.

  “I’m sorry.” He paused.

  “Are ye now?” His started down the corridor again but slowed his pace so she only had to jog to keep up with him. At lea
st she was on her own two feet again.

  “Yes, and I truly do appreciate your help with the men who were chasing me.” They reached a massive wooden door that had strange but beautiful wood workings on it. A large, oversized canopy bed made out of the same dark wood as the door occupied the entire north section of the room. A table with two chairs was in one corner and a large bureau was in the other. The floor was covered in a dark red beautifully woven rug that must have cost a fortune. Raine realized suddenly where she was. His room. Oh, God, he does intend to rape me. She pursed her lips and dug her heels into the carpet. Not without a fight, he won’t!

  He seemed to read her thoughts and smiled quite devilishly. “Relax, mistress. Only willing women are invited to my bed.” The door closed with a dull thud.

  She wanted to ask just how many women, but instead said, “I should explain. It is so hard to believe, I barely believe it myself, but it is true. I am not who you think I am. I am not from this –” she held her hands up “– land, but I don’t know how I got here either.”

  He sat on the bed and leaned back on one elbow. His eyes seemed to bore into her. He decided to humor her.

  “I agree. We should talk. Already the servants are gossiping. My mother will be here in a day or two to begin the marriage preparations as well and, though I love her dearly, she is prone to gossiping as much as they are. So,” he said, “tell me why you were running away from my cousin, lass.”

  She sighed with relief. Better to start at the beginning. She walked to the window and stared out over the green rolling hills. When she turned back to him, her breath caught. He was still leaning back with his legs crossed at the ankles, his shirt slightly open, his hair tousled by the breeze from the window. His eyes were so blue against his darkness and the way he was watching her was just … sexy. She thought for a split second how soft his hair would be if she ran her fingers through it.