T is for Temptation (30 page)

“Where’s Tiny?” Tee asked.

“Neither of you is going to take my advice. Fine, I’m done. Isn’t it time we focus on the real issues? Like we’re in the past, in an unidentified century, and according to Tiny, two armies are waiting for us at
Brodick
Castle
? Not to mention Jake’s damned fiancée and her seven large brothers. But, who gives a crap, right?” His strong, nylon-coated arms drew a dramatic V. “Oh no, instead it’s more productive to focus on this thing between you two. Like we don’t have to face the threat of living in this crappy century, with men who think a sword equals a brain. Christ, I could strangle the both of you.”

“Our mounts are ready.”

Tee pointed to the shore.

“Hell and damnation.”

“Crap.”

“As you’re so fond of saying, Jake, for the record, I agree with Alex. We should focus on getting out of here.”

“I want my BMW,” Alex complained, as they trudged onto the sandy beach. “I never want to get on a horse again.”

“What’s a BMW?” one of Tiny’s troop asked.

“It’s pure heaven, better than a woman, especially right now.”

Alex’s swift answer and mournful expression made Tee laugh, even though her stomach protested the action, and she wanted to burrow to
China
and hide and not have to explain her refusal to Jake.

“Tiny told me to teach you how to ride,” the soldier said.

“I don’t mind walking.” Alex eyed the dappled mare the man led as if she was his worst enemy. “Where is Tiny anyway?”

“The village pub. Ready?”

Alex groaned. “Never.”

Tee mounted her black stallion and nudged Brandy into a slow walk. The three of them started up the muddy, steep incline, riding well behind the other men.

“Jake,” Tee lowered her voice. “I don’t think you should ask Tiny or anyone else any more questions. They think you’re the laird. You’re supposed to know everything.”

“I agree with her. Tiny told me you fostered with this other clan for five years.”

“I haven’t been to
Brodick
Castle
during that time?”

Tee wondered if nothing ever fazed Jake, his expression seemed so neutral and composed.

“No, but your parents visited you frequently over the years.”

Jake’s normal stoic mask vanished as his black eyebrows shot to his hairline, and his jaw dropped. Clamping his lips together, he stared at the hillside. Tee watched the muscles in his cheek working.

“I have parents who are alive?”

She recognized the repressed hope in Jake’s tone.

“We don’t know if they’re your real parents.”

“Of course they’re not.” Jake snorted. “If my parents are, in fact, alive, I’m sure they’re in the twenty-first century, not this one.”

The small glimmer of hope she’d identified in his dark eyes moments ago morphed into shadows and his mouth curled down into a bleak sneer. She searched for a change of subject.

“The castle seems to be lit up.” Tee pointed to the steady glow in the middle of the hill. “Are the lights moving?”

Jake peered ahead. “From that blaze, we may have more company than I expected.”

Half an hour later, they arrived at
Brodick
Castle
. Tents of all colors littered the grounds before the red-bricked four-storied building. Tee figured there were at least two hundred incensed, scowling men milling around the castle. Most were barebacked, and their naked chests glistened with sweat. Flaming torches stuck into the grass illuminated the area, and the smell of burning oil filled the air.

“We’re in it deep, Alex,” Jake muttered.

A knot wrapped around her heart at the desolation in his voice. Small voices in her brain urged retraction, and she opened her mouth to refute her refusal, tell him she’d move in tomorrow.

But within mere seconds, dozens of men surrounded Jake, greeting him exuberantly, creating a yawning chasm between her and the two men. One heartbeat, then another, and Tee lost sight of him and Alex.

Warriors swarmed a small oval around the woman and the stallion, shouting coarse expletives, spilling horns filled with liquid. Stale beer, pungent whiskey, the sweat of unwashed bodies cluttered her nostrils. The bile rose in her throat, and she pinched her nose, hoping to ward off the threatening nausea.

Frantic, panic rising, she swept her eyes over the pulsing crowd searching for Tiny and, after long moments, located him about ten feet behind her. Her balled fists relaxed when he pointed to a trail to the left of their current direction.

She nodded her understanding and nudged Brandy into a quick turn onto a gloomy trail lined by the castle on one side and a clay-bricked smaller building on the other.

Tiny joined her. His bay stallion neighed a greeting to her mount, and they walked the horses up the dark path.

“Lass, the tricky part will be avoiding the Ramsays.” Tiny shuddered. “I can handle the brothers, but Laird Ramsay commands with a look. I fear him even more than I do our King Jamie.”

The night air grew cooler; Tee shivered, guessing the Ramsays were the fiancée and her family. All at once, it became imperative she fix the time and place.

“James is King of Scotland,” she mused, frowned, and remembered a whole stream of King James’s. “Who rules
England
, then?”

“Lass, were you educated at all?”

“Of course, Tiny, don’t be silly.” She tapped his forearm. “Just tell me who rules
England
.”

“Henry
VII
.” He knuckled his left temple.

“What year is it?”

Arrested, Tiny halted, reached across the foot separating them, cupped her chin, and his aqua eyes studied her features in a slow raking. “’Tis of some import to you, time. We are in the year of our Lord, one thousand five hundred and one.”

1501. Why 1501?

“Ah, lass, you are a puzzle. And mayhap, one not meant for me. You’re a witch. Cannot you conjure away the Ramsays?”

The hopeful note in his voice worried Tee.

His large thumb grazed her chin in a soft, soothing rhythm.

“Uh-uh. Sorry, but I’m not a very reliable witch.”

“Eh?”

Consternation rued his Greek-god features.

“Back then, I’d tried to conjure a storm, but it didn’t work.”

“Ah, you’re an apprentice witch,” he said, and his eyebrows settled into perfect alignment. “But sure enough, this is easier than a gale. Conjure the attic. Will it help if I describe a room?”

“Tiny, you don’t want to risk this. I can’t always make the conjuring part work,” she admitted. “It’s not dependable, especially when I, um, kiss, um, the laird.”

His turquoise eyes lit up like a neon
Las Vegas
sign.

“I’m all for kissing, lass.”

He scooped Tee off her stallion and settled her on his lap, her legs dangling across the horse’s flanks. Brandy trotted alongside, lowering his head every other stride to snag tufts of grass.

“No way. If you touch me, I’ll concentrate on putting you back in the sea.” She glared at him.

Tiny’s complexion turned ashen, and his thigh muscles tensed under hers.

“We’ll hobble the horses here.”

He jumped off his mount in an elegant, fluid motion, surprising for such a large man, and set Tee on the ground.

“The youngest Ramsay’s hot-headed and very protective of his sister. If he sees you, there’ll be trouble.”

A band of perspiration broke out on Tiny’s forehead. Tee’s apprehension escalated, and her stomach clenched in a wave-like motion.

“Come with me.” He searched her countenance. “Can you make yourself less fetching, lass?”

Before Tee could utter a protest, Tiny bent down, picked up a handful of dirt and grass, and rubbed it over her cheeks and across her forehead.

“You’re still too bonny, lass.”

They reached a high wooden door partially hidden by shrubs; he put a finger to his lips, opened the door, and waved her inside.

Tee grabbed on to his shirt. “I can’t see a thing.”

“Hold on, lass, I’ll light a torch.”

The scratch of metal against stone seemed like thunder in the absolute silence. A haloed glow made visible a soot-crusted stone wall and a wide spiral staircase, which Tiny mounted while motioning for her to follow.

Not having another option, Tee trudged up the steep stairs, counting the steps.

“Where are we going?” she managed to squeak out in between gasps. They halted on step one hundred and twenty-five.

“To the attic, no one goes there. You’ll be safe.”

The stairs ended, and a wide wooden door confronted them. Octagonal cobwebs, thick and complex, coated brass hinges blotched with aged rust. The massive oak structure creaked in protest when Tiny dragged it open and pulled Tee into a dim, narrow corridor. The torch flickered, sending dancing shadows down the hallway.

She followed him, and with each step, the corridor brightened as if fluorescent wands switched on.

“You’ll be safe here, lass.”

He pushed Tee into a large rectangular room dominated by an arched, shuttered window. Moonlight streamed in, its silvery splash bathing rose-hued walls like spangles waving Christmas cheer.

“How long do you think the laird will be?”

“Lass, with all the clans, I fear he’ll be a while. I suggest you make yourself comfortable. I’ll find food.”

“Don’t bother. I can manage the food. How would you like a Big Mac, fries, and a milkshake?”

Tiny scratched his ear and eyed her, thick fingers wrapping around his strong jaw. “I’ll not be eating anything from the MacDonalds.”

“Want to bet?”

She conjured up a dozen hamburgers, accompanying fries and milkshakes, showed Tiny how to unwrap the food, and left him seated on the floor outside her door, ooohing and aaahing over bacon cheeseburgers and the magic of ketchup. Surveying the empty room, Tee wondered how Jake fared, and, even more importantly, why his fate seemed twined with hers.

The grounds in front of
Brodick
Castle
went on forever. Mist surged around lit torches stabbed into rough grass creating a supernatural, eclectic atmosphere. Almost a vilification of everything deemed normal in the twenty-first century.

The pull of the trunk, the strange pulsing when he’d opened it, grew stronger as the castle drew nearer. A déjà vu tremor shuddered through him, as if he’d done this with regularity, sitting on a mount staring at his home.

Home.

A disquieting notion.

Tee and home, coming home to her, waking up with her.

Startled, he shook his head, glanced over his shoulder, and stood on the stirrups as the crowd cleaved their group into two, shoving her one way and the two of them the other.