The woman scooted past Brigid, but before she was out of the kitchens, Brigid stepped forward, hands clenched by her sides and asked, “And what’s your name?”
Tilting her head to the side and glancing back around at Brigid, she replied, “’Tis Morag.”
Brigid watched as she sauntered down the corridor and out of sight. At that precise moment, all she wanted to do was grab any sharp object and fling it at her back.
“It’ll be a cold day in hell before I tell him to bring
you
a tart.”
Chapter 37
“The way was marked, the land was cleared, but without the compass they would lose their hearts in the abyss.”
Four days had passed since the men had returned, and still no sign of Duncan. Brigid had filled her days with Nell and helping Moira. She looked for him at the evening meals, but he never showed. And no one seemed concerned by his absence.
Finn had kept them company in the evening and the bantering between him and Nell had provided her with some comic relief. Yet, as always, her heart and mind would wander to thoughts of Duncan.
What had happened? Did she say or do something? One moment the man was hot, the next cold and indifferent. She shrugged them off as nonsense. When she questioned Cormac one evening, he would only shrug saying most of the time Duncan kept mainly to himself.
By the fifth day, she truly thought he was spending time with that woman, Morag. She did mention her name to Moira, and when she saw the look of concern in Brigid’s eyes, Moira told her not to fret. Duncan could not stand the woman, considering she had been with most of the men. The look of shock that registered across Brigid’s face was enough for Moira to reassure her that she knows when a man lusts after a woman, and Duncan had eyes for only Brigid.
Still, it did nothing to quiet her nerves.
By the sixth day of not seeing him, Brigid decided she would rise early and check out the lists. Her nights were spent with little or no sleep, always awakening before dawn.
“If the man won’t come to me, I’ll go to him,” she muttered, shivering when her feet hit the floor. Dressing warmly, she gathered her plaid tightly around her.
She crept quietly and slowly around the dark corridors. Nell had given her the tour of the castle with the approval of Cormac, and she had shown her several pathways out of the castle. Brigid was amazed at some of the corridors, which were illuminated with torches and tapestries. There even was one depicting the great dragon. Brigid smiled when she passed the tapestry, placing her hand gently over her mark. She was still stunned how much they worshiped the old ways here and questioned if there were any who believed in the new religion.
Passing the great hall, she noticed all was quiet. The men were absent, which meant they were either at the lists or out performing their duties. Heaving one of the great oak doors open, a blast of cold air greeted her, reminding her that autumn was definitely settling here in the Highlands.
Brigid took in a deep breath. “Ahhh, brisk Highland air, better than coffee.”
Making her way slowly, fearing she would step in some slop or trip and fall, a noise caught her attention. Realizing it was only an owl, she let her eyes become accustomed to the darkness, and didn’t see the man until she was practically in his arms.
“Ouch!” The man had firmly clasped both of her arms. “Hey, I’m sorry, but will you please release me!” she hissed.
“Nae.”
The sound of his voice low and growling in that one word told Brigid all she needed to know.
“Duncan?”
“Aye?”
Again, the burr of his voice sent shivers down her body. “Where the blazes have you been?” She did not mean for the words to tumble out, but she was tired and frustrated.
The silence permeated the air around them and Brigid no longer felt cold, only warmth. She moved into his chest, which was bare and noticed he was wearing leather trews. How she had longed to see them on him. He was breathing hard, smelling of earth and all things primal that called out to her.
“Why do ye care?” He still kept his hands on her arms, his voice low, and threatening.
Brigid swallowed. What was wrong with him? Then taking her mouth, she brushed a soft kiss on his chest, causing a guttural moan to escape from his mouth, his grip intensifying. She tilted her head back up toward him. “I care, Duncan, perhaps I shouldn’t, but I do. You’ll have to deal with it.”
His lips came crushing down on hers, the beast no longer holding back. Hands that were holding her at bay were all over her, kneading and fondling. She drew him in and caressed the tendons in his neck, twining her hands through his locks. His tongue was hot and probing. It was a kiss for her tired soul to melt into, leaving her mouth burning with fire.
With dawn approaching, the shimmer of the morning light danced over the hills and touched them. Duncan pulled back from ravishing her mouth and saying a low curse, scooped her up in his arms, and headed for the entrance. Crashing through the door, he kept walking toward the stairway.
Brigid’s breathing was labored, and laying her head against him, she let him carry her. She didn’t think her legs could remain steady even if he had put her down. They were headed straight to her chambers, and all she could think of was this aching need for another one of his soul searing kisses.
He placed her down when they came to her door. Shoving it open, he gently pushed her forward. Brigid turned around, but she saw he had moved over by the window. His hands were braced on the stone wall, and she could tell something was wrong.
Warning alarms went off within her. “What’s wrong, Duncan?”
“I cannot be with ye,” his tone one of steel.
Brigid reeled as if she had been slapped.
“Tell me why, Duncan?” she asked, trying hard to keep her voice steady.
Pushing away from the wall, he swung around to face her with eyes as cold as ice. Waving his hands in the air, he lashed out, “This cannae be! Ye are not mine, nor am I yours. I should have never touched ye.” Taking his fist, he pounded the wall behind him. “Do not seek me out, Brigid.” His face twisted with anger and thunder shook outside.
“What do you want from me?”
“Nothing,” he answered.
“And your quest, Duncan?” she demanded, her heart pounding.
“Not yours to concern yourself with.”
“Then what am I to do? Stay here for...
what
?”
He shrugged, cold emotion rolling off him.
Brigid’s last thread of sanity snapped. “You bastard! This is
unbelievable
. Did you see me as a quick lay, easy for the taking? And now you regret it, because it might mean more?”
His silence was her answer.
Her fury boiling, she could not contain her next words. “Well, Duncan Mackay, I do care for you. More than you deserve and more than you will ever know. I
never
asked for any of this. But for some unfathomable reason, it did happen. Now you want to pretend that nothing happened between us, and you no longer need my assistance?”
He continued to glare at her.
“I see. My mistake,” her voice laced with sarcasm. Pointing a finger at him, she threw the last out like a stone. “I am through with this crap!! You can work out your demons on your own.”
Brigid stormed over to the table where the sword was laying. Shaking her head in frustration, she picked up the sword. Tears pricked her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.
He did not deserve her tears, only her wrath.
Walking back over to him, she held out the sword. “This is not my battle anymore, Duncan. You have made it very clear my services are no longer required.” Shoving the sword into his chest, she glared right back at him. “Take it. It’s yours. I’m done!”
Duncan stood like a statue, his eyes changing color right before her. He refused to grasp the sword, so Brigid stepped back, letting it drop with a resounding thud on the wooden floor.
She shook her head and walked to the door. Before leaving, she spared a fleeting look over her shoulder, “The sword is now yours, Duncan. I am leaving to find a way back to my own time. If I have to seek out the great dragon, so be it. She can summon Conn to take me back...”
Brigid couldn’t finish the sentence. Slamming the door open with such force, it crashed against the wall as she ran down the hall. She let the hot tears sting her cheeks, running hard and with deliberate intention of the entrance that she became lost within the corridors for the first time.
“Damn it!” Instead of finding the pathway descending the stairs, she came upon one with stairs leading upwards. The castle was a maze of too many halls and confusion overtook her senses.
What a fool she was. She had lost her heart and soul to this man.
“Which way do I go?” Leaning against the cool stone wall for support, she glanced up. She was drained emotionally and physically. All the previous days came crashing over her causing her to tremble.
Grabbing her dress, Brigid slowly made her way up the curved stairway. The path was narrow and dimly lit, but she stopped abruptly before an alcove. She hesitated briefly at the door, but her instincts told her to keep moving upwards.
“There must be at least fifty steps.” Stopping to catch her breath, she looked back down. The thought occurred to her to go back the way she came, but the possibility of running into Duncan caused her stomach to flip. A stone lodged in her chest, and yelling loudly she uttered, “I’m not going to cry over you, Duncan Mackay!” Then with her burning rage and tears, she took to the stairs, wishing with all her might she could just click her heals and return to her own time.
Finally reaching the top, the biting cold whispered through the cracks in the door. She was at the parapet. Saying a silent prayer there was a way out on the other side of the door, Brigid thrust it open.
****
Duncan could not move. Her last words of seeking out Conn hit him like a punch to the gut. Is that not what he wanted? To stay away until such a time she would hand over the sword, and then send her back to her own time? Why then did he feel an aching loss? Looking at the sword near his feet, he bent slowly down to retrieve it. Somehow, it still did not feel like his, and he speculated if perhaps it ever would.
“Are ye going to stand there staring at that thing, or are ye going to go after her?” Matilda stood at the door, her hands clasped together.
“Do not get involved, Matilda.” Duncan moved to leave Brigid’s chambers, but Matilda put her hand out to stop him from passing.
“It is only an observation.”
Sighing, he glanced up at the ceiling then back down at her. “What is it?”
“Why do ye war with your emotions, Duncan?”
“
Emotions
!” he barked.
Striding away and over to the window, he kept his gaze locked on the sky, trying to bring his
emotions
into check. “They have been the bane of my existence. It
is
who I am. A gift
and
a curse.”
“Whist!” Matilda shouted, as she stomped her foot on the floor.
Duncan twisted around, arching an eyebrow in question.
Shaking her head, she crossed her arms across her chest. “Ye ken exactly what I mean, Duncan Mackay. We
all
can see how ye feel for the lass.”
Pounding his fist against the wall he shouted, “Nae! Not for me! I am not worthy. The gods have sent her here for a purpose and then she must leave!”
“Tsk, tsk. Ye are truly blind, Duncan. Did it ever occur to ye they sent her, so your heart may open to love again?”
“I do not deserve love,” his voice a low murmur.
Moving closer, she spoke softly. “Perhaps it is not about the sword, Duncan, but the healing of your heart.”
Duncan slowly turned and with a look of anguish said, “Then the gods are cruel, Matilda. For in the end when all is done, Conn MacRoich will come for Brigid and return her to her own time. I do not believe they would punish me thus. I would rather take my sword and cut out my own heart.”
A smile flickered across her face. “If they are not punishing ye, then why would they send the lass through time to get
her
heart broken? And, since when did ye listen to anything Conn ever told ye?”
“Humph!”
“Duncan, take hold of the time ye have with Brigid. Samhain is approaching, and the walls are already thinning. If the Guardian thought all was lost, then why did she send Brigid? If ye were cursed forever, she would not have placed this quest at your door. The Guardian is part of the fae, and at their core is
love
.”
Matlida placed her hand on his arm, “Go to her, Duncan...
talk
to her. Ye have nothing left to lose.” Letting out a sigh, Matilda slipped her hand away and left the room.
Keeping his gaze out beyond the hills Duncan whispered, “Ye are wrong, Matilda, for I do have one thing left to lose...
Brigid
.”
Chapter 38
“The darkness overtook them and their path was empty, until the dragon blew her breath of light and the stars illuminated their steps.”
The chilly bite of the wind caused Brigid to shiver, and she hugged her arms tighter around her. She regretted not having her wrap. Considering how she left her room rather quickly, it didn’t give her time to think of grabbing one. Her hair was unraveling from her braid and she kept tucking the stray curls behind her ears.
Initially, she had intended to move quickly to locate another exit out of the castle. What stopped her on the parapet was not the cold blast which greeted her, but the sheer beauty of the landscape below. The mountains rolled beneath blankets of pine and others of oak and birch trees. Their leaves were ablaze with autumn colors of scarlet, orange, and copper. The sun filtered through puffs of white clouds and the scene reminded her of a painting, so rich in colors.
Walking slowly, she tipped her head up, letting the warmth of the sun touch her face. Breathing in deeply of the clean mountain air, Brigid closed her eyes and felt the wind shift. It whispered against her cheeks, soothing her.
“They say if ye can brave the North wall and her winds, then she will talk to ye.”
Brigid eyes snapped open to find Duncan standing before her. Her anger at him was her shield and she used it to pull away, walking toward the other end.