A Kind of Magic (4 page)

He hurt in the most vulnerable place a man could but he kept his attention on the woman.

“You did well,” he told her, and briefly touched his aching jaw. “Two blows instead of one are always better for felling a man.”

“Unfortunately you’re still conscious.”

“Aye.”

“Where am I?” Her gaze darted nervously around the clearing. “What are you doing here? How did either of us get here? Why are you wearing a kilt? Why did you kiss me?”

Maddie had no idea why she was standing here asking stupid questions. Especially the last one. There was a frightened voice in the back of her mind telling her she should run from this man. She’d been running to him before all this madness started but now everything was different. There was something in the way he looked at her that shook her to the core. He didn’t look angry. He looked determined. That was worse.

“What are you doing here?” she asked again, and hated the hysteria that went with the question. She had to stay calm, in control. Her mouth ached from his harsh kiss.

Even though she’d stopped him, she was still trembling with reaction. She felt different, connected as she never had before, all because he’d kissed her. She didn’t like it.

“Where are we, Toby?”

His features went harder, if that were possible. “Will you stop calling me that, woman.”

“It’s your name.”

He bristled. “It is most certainly is not.”

21

Susan Sizemore

Maddie studied him closely. Maybe it had been two years since she’d been back to Montana but this was the man she remembered. Only with a bad temper, an authentic costume and an overactive libido. “If you’re not Toby, who are you?”

“Rowan Murray.” He gestured. The slight movement was imperious, definitive. His expression as possessive as his kiss had been. “We’re in my lands. Near my stronghold of Cape Wrath.”

This was the first useful information he’d given her. Maddie was so relieved to finally know where she was that she almost didn’t notice him take a slow step to her left. The man who claimed not to be Toby Coltrane had cold eyes, cold as ice chips, narrowed and intently focused on her. She forced herself to concentrate on the information and not on being intimidated by the look in those eyes. If he were in pain, he hid it well. The sword was awkward, and the man—Rowan Murray—was way too calm. He hadn’t been calm when he’d kissed her.

She certainly wasn’t calm. She hefted the sword higher as he took another step.

“Stop that.” Maybe he wasn’t Toby. Maybe she should run. “Which way’s the nearest town?” There would be people there. A phone.

Rowan Murray’s gaze shifted. Maddie didn’t have time to turn. Rowan sprang forward. The sword was wrenched from her hands and she was knocked to the ground.

Rowan loomed above her and raised the long sword over his head.

He was going to kill her. She knew it.

Then she saw the black-furred snarling, fanged
thing
rushing toward her. Maddie screamed. Rowan stepped between her and the attacking animal. The sword flashed down—the sharp metal almost seemed to glow in a sudden burst of sunlight. There was a splash of red blood on black fur as the creature went down.

Maddie scrambled to her feet and fought the impulse to hide behind Rowan’s back.

She forced herself to look at the animal that had attacked her. It wasn’t a bear or a wolf, but a bit like both. It had red eyes, faceted like an insect’s.

“What is that?”

Rowan took care to clean his sword and sheath it safely away before he turned to the woman. When he grasped her arm, she was docile enough from shock not to try to pull away. The fair folk and their spell were gone. The beast they’d left behind out of sheer perversity was dead. There was no magic left in the clearing, just a tired man and frightened woman.

“Time we were on our way.”

She looked at him. There were questions in her eyes but for the moment she was too bewildered to voice them. He tightened his grip and tugged her forward. Time to go home and get married.

Maddie didn’t know what to think. She looked over her shoulder at the dead beast as Rowan pushed her ahead of him. It’s a bear, she decided. It couldn’t be anything else.

It was only her terror that had given the animal an unfamiliar shape. It refused to look 22

A Kind of Magic

like a bear to her tired senses so she looked determinedly away. Only one thing that had happened in the last few minutes made any sense.

He’d saved her life.

She was still his prisoner. She suspected one or both of them were insane or at least hallucinating. He’d assaulted her—and she’d assaulted him back. But he’d saved her life. Without any fuss or bother. Without saying a word. He’d just slain what appeared to be a monster.

And now he was taking her who knew where. His grip was hard but not painful.

She cast a furtive look at his face. The stoically calm Rowan Murray didn’t look as if he’d just killed a mythical beastie. Or as if he’d ardently kissed her a few minutes before that. He was totally expressionless, as though his lean features were chiseled out of Scottish granite. Expressionless, but a hint of color streaked the Celtic fair skin that hinted at some strong emotion beneath his outward calm.

Suddenly she believed that he was not the man she’d been going to Glasgow to meet. He looked just like him but somehow wasn’t him. There had to be some logical explanation to all of this. It probably involved her being in an intensive care unit after a plane crash. Or maybe she hadn’t survived the crash and the afterlife was an illogical, downright annoying place.

“This is all ridiculous,” Maddie announced, and was ignored.

Rowan felt the woman’s gaze on him and wished she’d look away. He hoped she didn’t ask him any more questions. There was nothing he could say by way of apology for his dishonorable behavior. He wanted to get her home, keep her safe, have his way with her by wedded right rather than uncontrollable rut. He wanted to forget about the doings of the last hour or at least start over and make things right. He just didn’t want to talk about it.

He kept his attention on guiding her before him down the narrow, rocky path to the ford. He did not think about his sore jaw and aching privates, though every step jolted something that hurt.

23

Susan Sizemore

Aidan waited at the ford along with Rowan’s horse. “Who’s that?” Aidan asked.

“Where’s Meg?” Rowan answered.

“Who’s Meg?” the woman asked.

She sounded irritated. Rowan had some faint hope that she might be jealous at hearing him speak another woman’s name, ridiculous as he knew the hope was. The last thing he needed or wanted was a jealous woman. She was confused and frightened by everything he did and nothing more. She had every right to be both, even as he had every right to be curious at how and why she was in his lands and now part of his life.

Then he recalled that he didn’t want this sunset-haired stranger or any other woman as part of his life and his irritation returned.

He turned his temper on his brother. “And why did you not do as I told you?”

As usual, Aidan refused to be abashed. He laughed and his merry-eyed attention was directed at the woman as he answered. “I tried and I tried. Argued and cajoled Walter, I did, but to no purpose. Walter refused to believe my errand. Said you wouldn’t command any woman to a tryst. Said I only wanted Meg for myself.”

“You do.”

“Who’s Meg?”

“Hush.”

“Aye. But I would have brought her to you if I could.” Aidan was grinning openly at the woman now, as though she should share in his teasing of Rowan. Aidan pointed toward the village. “Should I go back and try ag—?”

“Mind your tongue.” Rowan took his mount’s reins from his brother then lifted his intended bride onto the horse’s back.

As Rowan swung up behind her, Aidan asked, “How’d you lose the horse? And who is this wom—?”

“Your mother’s folk were in the clearing.”

Rowan nodded. “I thought there was a fey taste to the air today.”

“You might have told me.”

Aidan touched the tip of one ear. “I forget you’re half blind that way.”

“Fortunately only half.”

“Which is more fairy sight than most mortals have, brother.”

“Fairy sight? What’s that?”

“Hush,” Rowan told the curious woman.

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A Kind of Magic

“Stop telling me to hush.”

“She’s willful.”

“Aye,” Rowan answered Aidan as he wrapped his arms around her. She stiffened in his embrace. He kicked the horse into motion. “Your mother taught me well.” He had to grant that the fairy wife had given him that much, though he granted it grudgingly.

Maddie really wished Rowan would stop touching her, even if it meant she’d probably fall off her precarious perch if he did. It wasn’t that long of a fall, the animal was really more of a sturdy mountain pony than a full-sized horse. Even a few bruises would be better than being surrounded by Rowan Murray’s considerable, unfamiliar, familiar presence.

She also wished someone would talk to her. She really wished she wasn’t right back where she’d started when she’d first met the barbarian horseman, captured and controlled and still in the dark—only more so. Rowan Murray’s embrace when he’d forced her up on the horse the first time had been disturbing enough, it felt far more intimate now that she knew he wasn’t Toby. And she was more confused than ever. She decided to concentrate on her confusion as Rowan and his cheerful companion rode toward the distant sound of the sea.

A few minutes later a walled settlement came into view, perched on a rocky cliffside that leaned out above the ocean. The stream they’d been following joined the sea at the base of the hill. The track crossed the stream there and wound up to the village gates. The water stretched away, gray and glassy into forever from a cove dotted with numerous craggy islets. There were a few tiny, oddly shaped sailboats out on the water. A few more of the primitive boats were lined up on the shingle above the tide line. Nothing about the place looked right.

As they approached the ford, the road widened enough for the other man to ride up beside them. Maddie received a friendly smile when she looked his way.

“I’m Aidan. Your necklace has a pretty glow about it.”

These people were crazy.

“Uh-huh.”

And dangerous, she recalled. At least Rowan was. Rather than risk finding out that the equally oddly dressed and even stranger-spoken Aidan was a violent lunatic, Maddie managed to pull her lips into a semblance of a smile for the young man’s benefit. He gave her a friendly nod then rode on ahead.

She didn’t think her necklace was glowing. It wasn’t even her necklace. In fact, she’d almost forgotten she was wearing it. She could barely remember why she’d put it on. So much had happened in the last few hours that wearing an artifact technically belonging to the British government was the least of her worries.

When she reached up to touch the chain, Rowan grabbed her hand before it reached her throat. He twined his fingers with hers and pushed her hand back down. Now she was holding hands with the man who’d kidnapped her. Kissed her. Saved her life.

25

Susan Sizemore

Wasn’t the man she wanted supposed to do all those thing, not counting the kidnapping part.

Maddie was almost dizzy with confusion and awareness of the texture of Rowan’s wide palm, of the contrast of his strong, callused fingers covering hers. She was not a small woman but the disparity between them made her feel almost delicate, definitely female. The evident differences between Rowan Murray and her evoked a strong feeling in her. Strangely, it was not fear. Vulnerable, yes, but not afraid. She shivered and told herself it was from the cold wind that blew off the ocean as they approached the settlement. Only she wasn’t cold at all. There was a warmth in her that was deep down and totally new.

Maddie fought her strange reactions and forced herself to study her surroundings.

They’d crossed the stream and headed up the hillside. There were a few stone houses and thatched huts outside the walls of the fortress. Shaggy black cattle and some sheep grazed in pastures marked off by drystone walls. Chickens and geese scratched in house yards beside the garden plots they passed. People gathered around them as they approached the fortress gate. These people were dressed as crudely as her captor, ill-groomed folk in tartan, homespun and leather. In short, the place did not look at all like a modern Scottish village. Not a shop in sight, not a car, not a post box or the ubiquitous blue of British Telecom phone booths. No power lines or satellite dishes or television antennas. No pubs.

Maddie craned her head around to glare at Rowan. “Where are we really?”

“Cape Wrath.”

Maddie almost laughed. “I know for a fact that Cape Wrath has at least one espresso bar. Or Durness does. It’s the nearest town. No one actually lives at Cape Wrath.”

“This is my home.”

“Fine. But it’s not really Cape Wrath.”

Who are you, really?
Rowan wondered as his bride voiced her skepticism. She would learn that he never lied but he saw no reason to point this out to her before she was ready to believe it.
Who are you other than mine? And what is espresso?

The guards on the gate stepped aside to let them through. The crowd followed them into the courtyard. Rowan did not voice either assertions or his own questions about the stranger in his arms as he brought the horse to a halt before the chapel door.

After he helped her to the ground, he looked around at his watching people.

No, she was not his, he realized as he met many a curious look. Wanting her for his bed was just an illusion left imprinted on all his senses by the fairy magic. She’d been sent to him, yes, but for his people. He was to marry her to save his clan. His connection to her was only one of duty. He must be on guard to keep any selfish impulses to have the woman only for himself at bay. It was a mistake to care too much. That was another lesson his fairy stepmother had taught him.

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A Kind of Magic