Read The Highlander's Time Online
Authors: Belladonna Bordeaux
“I speak rudimentary French, too,” Charlzie interrupted.
“Why are you here?” he returned in the romantic language.
So much for exchanging chit chat
. “I wish I knew,” Jenny explained. Laying her hand over Charlzie's to keep her quiet, she nibbled on her lip for a minute. Where to start and how to make them not sound like a bunch of escapees from the local loony bin? “We were in an office and this thing came out of the wall.” She stopped when the priest held up a hand. “What did I say?”
“Hang on, Jenny, I think I have this pegged,” Charlzie stated.
“You do?”
Will miracles never cease to happen?
“Okay, what's going on?”
“You know my mom was big on getting into her roots last year. She even conned me into taking a few classes in Gaelic before she took her trip to Scotland. She brought me back a kilt, but explained the dress wasn't popular until the Eighteenth-century.” Charlzie appeared ready to jump out of her skin.
“So?”
“We're in Scotland. They're speaking Gaelic.” She dropped her voice to a shallow whisper. “If their dress is any indication, and I'm remembering correctly what Mom told me about all the history she'd soaked up, this is the Middle Ages. We're in the past.”
“No way.” Jenny shook her head. A re-enactment? Nope, the setting was too detailed unless they were on some movie set. That might make sense, but there wasn't any place for a live studio audience.
A closed set?
There weren't any spotlights or cameras overhead. Even if a frenemy had the money to accomplish this elaborate publicity stunt, she couldn't fathom why they'd go to the effort.
“Yeah—way. I can't catch much of what they are saying, but I recognize the brogue.”
“You're talking time travel.” Jenny’s frown shifted to a scowl. Through narrowed eyes, she searched the rafters for a camera.
“Yeah, I am. This is incredible.”
“Tell me something I don't already know.” Sticking to her plan of lying, she darted her gaze over the elaborate setting again and again.
If this is a sick practical joke, I will kill someone.
There was absolutely no damn way they'd gotten sucked into some sort of vortex. “Let's fly low under the radar until I can figure out how to get us home.”
Charlzie's excitement dropped off when Dudley the Delusion leveled his ice-blue glare on them. “Sounds like a plan,” she muttered.
No, it's our only option
. Jenny decided, her fingers curling around the heavy ceramic mug placed in front of her.
Where there’s a will, there's a way
. And, she was going to have to find their way out of this nightmare.
***
Iaen kept his anger in check by sheer force of will. “You talk fantasy, Father.”
“Nay, milord. Lady Ainsleigh, Laird MacPherson's wife....”
“I am well aware of who Adaem wed. If you will recall, I was there.” Aye, he stood witness to the happy occasion. His first impression of the lass Adaem had fallen in love with was she'd die afore the year was out. Reckless, and at times independent, Lady Ainsleigh didnae have the wherewithal to dress herself without the assistance of ten maids let alone protect herself from the unforgiving island where Adaem and she lived.
“She is from the future,” the priest insisted.
“What?”
“After much conversation and many visits to Kilkierney, she trusted me with the truth of how she came to be in the Highlands. She was picked up by the Veil.”
“You believe her?” Superstitions ran deep and long in the Highlands. Iaen couldn't believe a priest in good standing with the church would entertain a concept as fanciful as the Veil. 'Twas a miracle he hadn't called for Lady Ainsleigh to be put to the stake.
“I have nay reason not to. She provided a modicum of proof to me. I believe her tale.”
“You have lost your senses, old friend? The Veil is a myth.” Iaen propped his fists on his hips. “A phantom that races o'er the land with the intent of snatching wayward travelers and naughty children to a horrible place. A land where they will be lost and alone for all time. 'Tis nonsense you speak.”
“I tell you, milord, the Veil is real. 'Tis the tale that is warped. Aye, the Veil plucks a person or persons to spirit them away.” Father Thomas pointed to the duo sitting at the High Table. He snorted at the other lass when her head lolled against the back of the chair pulled up to the hearth. “It whisks them to a time and place where they can find true love.”
“Bah.”
Nonsense meant to keep wee ones in their beds, is more like it
.
“
Milord
, listen to me. Lady Ainsleigh found happiness with Laird Adaem. Kilkierney hadn’t known peace in many years yet now it hasn't seen a threat from the ocean or the mainland since her arrival. The Clan MacPherson believes Lady Ainsleigh is the cause for their good fortune.”
“My clan makes its own good fortune.”
“There is a reason they are here.” Father Thomas dropped his arm to his side. A burst of chatter came from the women at the table. “They want to know if they can care for their friend. She's very ill.”
“She's deep in her cups, Father.”
“It makes nay difference, milord.”
“Aye, but they are not to leave the Keep. I'll have Elspeth show them to a room they may use during their visit.” He turned on the heel of his boot. “We'll have nay more discussion on the Veil.”
“What will you do with them? They have nay place to go.”
Tired of the talk, Iaen switched direction, righted the bucket in the growing puddle, and then headed for the kitchen. He poked his head in to view the bustling room, and motioned for the elderly woman to join him. “Elspeth, if you would show the women to a room.”
She wiped her hands on her apron. Smudges of flour, matching the streaks of white in her hair, marred her concerned face. Instead of having the kitchen maid, Alyce, take a fresh pitcher of hot tea to the table, she sent the young lass back to her spot at the work bench. “Their clothes, milord.” She came closer so the other kitchen staff couldnae eavesdrop. “You cannae have the lasses strolling around half-naked.”
He confronted the new tangent with brooding resignation. Unbidden, he pictured the lot they would face beyond the border of Kincaid land. Raped afore the night was over. Starved to death afore the week was out. Leveling his hand on the doorframe, he slashed his gaze from his visitors to Father Thomas's worried countenance. “See they are clothed as best you can.”
“At once, milord.” She bobbed a curtsy before carrying the pitcher to the table. Iaen reluctantly trailed behind her.
“You didnae answer my query,” Father Thomas reminded.
“They are welcome to stay in the Keep as my guests.” He raked a hand through his hair. “'Twould be in their best interest to learn our speech, our ways, as fast as they can. I donnae hold to the notion of witches and the Black Arts, but there are a few who live on Kincaid land who'd brand them handmaidens of the Devil because they donnae hold to our customs. If the clan turns against them, nay matter the reason, they will have to leave. I cannae have anarchy brew within my clan.”
“I ken, milord. You neednae worry over them. They'll be quiet as church mice.”
An angry scream split the air twain. Together they watched the blonde pitch a tantrum nay Highlander would allow their toddling to throw. Iaen plucked his dagger from his belt. It flew through the air to sink into the mantel with a thud. “You better tell them to shush her ere the entire clan comes to investigate her caterwauling.”
Father Thomas nodded. He didn't need to order them, though. The brunette was already handling the shrieking blonde. “I'll make sure they're good.”
“God help you, father.” He didn't even dodge the cup the blonde threw at him, for her aim was as off as it could get. Iaen chuckled at her meager attempt to hit him. He didnae doubt she was seeing two of him. Again, the brunette tried to assert her authority. A pang of pity welled in him when the blonde lashed out at what he assumed was her friend. Intervening, he gripped her fists and planted her arse in her chair. Looming over her, he held her to her place when she tried to fight him. “Tell her to stop or I'll spank her for her poor manners.”
“Aye, milord.” Father Thomas first told the brunette who related it to the blonde.
Iaen kept his gaze on the blonde throwing nasty glares at him. “Inform her, I will keep my promise if she has one more outburst.” They repeated the process. “Are we of an accord?”
'Twas hard to make his point this way, but as he watched the blonde's eyes widen, he felt he'd attained his goal.
“Aye,” the brunette responded for her friend.
Ignoring her insult when she didnae use his title, he considered her again. She was a pretty thing with her long sable hair and dewy complexion. He took his time inspecting her from the top of her head to the tips of her unusual slippers. Aye, she was a temptation, too. Her breasts were barely a handful, and he could imagine his hands curling around her hips while he pounded her lithe body. “What is your name?” The simple question almost exhausted his knowledge of the court's language.
She held her palm to her cheek. Her soft, warm, tear-drenched brown eyes locked with his. “Jenny.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No...nay.” She sniffed back tears.
Amazed when she stiffened her spine and willed the wetness from her eyes, Iaen nodded. Aye, she was out of her element, and in pain, but she had grit. He couldnae help but give her credit for her bravery. There were few men, let alone women, who could hold his stare as long as she had. Releasing the blonde, he caught her fist when she took a shot at him. “Take care of them,” he told Father Thomas.
***
“Jenny, are you okay?” Charlzie whispered as she took hold of Lila's shoulders. They were carrying her up the stairs the hard way, but the idea of letting her sleep off her stupor on the table was beneath them. “She really socked you this time.”
“I'm fine.” They'd finally relented, with Father Thomas' blessing, to Lila's demand for a drink. It was almost funny when they had to explain to her she didn't get to place a bar order. Wine was what they had and it was all Lila was going to get. Ten minutes of shouting later, they were worn to the bone. Fortunately, the sweet-natured cook, Elspeth, was able to locate a jug of wild whiskey. Lila coughed through the first mug, and then drank herself to oblivion.
Now, out cold, they were making slow progress, but on the upside it was at least progress toward their room. Elspeth kept clucking her tongue, but she wasn't being mean. Hell no, the cook was being honest. “This is going to be hardest on Lila.”
“You're telling me. She's gotta stop not only drinking, but can't go all diva attitude with these guys. These men aren't going to forgive her for blasting them when they don't buy her a Mercedes for her birthday. They don't even believe in money. This is a barter society.”
“Okay, so this is going to get really interesting.” The clang in her temples grew in direct proportion to the stress leveled on her shoulders. Picking up Lila around her calves, they made it another ten steps before they had to rest. “After we tuck sleeping beauty into bed, we're going to have to form a strategy for keeping her out of trouble.” She wasn't worried about Charlzie and her. They could adapt until they could discover a way home. “We'll have to keep her off the sauce.”
“Easier said than done. We don't even have her dad here to help us.”
“Her dad has been co-dependent for years. If ever there was a time she could dry out, it’s now. We'll just have to get Dudley to agree with us. If she can't get her hands on liquor, then she'll get the hint.”
“I still think you’re too funny calling him Dudley the Delusion.” Huffing out a breath, they lifted at the same time. “Hey, he came to your rescue.”
“Don't remind me.”
“He's got great bedroom eyes.”
“Tell me about it.” Recalling the moment he'd stopped Lila from going ballistic on her, Jenny exhaled softly. A memory of his hard biceps beneath her fingers socked through her. Tamping down on her musings, she felt her mouth go dry. She wondered if his lips were hard or soft. If he kissed like a man who was determined to own her mouth and ergo own her soul or if he gave wussy kisses like most of her past relationships had?
Laird Iaen Kincaid was too handsome for words. Broad shoulders that narrowed to his tapered waist, he had the thighs of a body builder and an ass to die for. It wasn't so much his build, which was awing, but his ability to take command. He held the air of a man who knew exactly what he was doing every minute of the day. If she had to sum him up, she'd say he was a man born to lead, a person destined for greatness.
“I made it to the top,” Charlzie's announcement pulled Jenny out of her thoughts. “Not too much further.”
Jenny stared at the third bedroom off the balcony. “We could drag her the rest of the way.”
“Are you sure you're all right?”
“I have a little headache. It's probably all the stress.”
I didn't sign on for this
. That was a gross understatement if ever she'd thought one.
It didn't help that she was way out of her normal element where she stomped out fires and kept Lila's latest fiasco from gracing the front page of the
International Tattle Tale.
If she actually bought into the whole time travel theory, which she was starting to believe, she was now in charge of keeping them all alive. The pressure grew until her breath caught in her chest. She wasn't equipped for this. She didn't know how to do this.
Like she'd done when her mom died and her dad had climbed into a bottle of sour-mash whiskey, she looked for a silver lining. “At least we have Father Thomas on our side.”
Big or small, she'd take any other miracles God decided to throw her way. “I'm going to rest here for a minute.” She plopped down on the landing. Staring at her stilettos sitting innocently at the bottom of the stairs, she didn't have the energy to walk back down and get them.
“You are not all right.” Charlzie was at her side before Jenny could blink. “What's wrong?”
Buck up and put on a brave face
. She'd managed to do that her whole life and she wasn't ready to give up the coping mechanism yet. “I'm just tired.” She blinked the tears wavering in her eyes away. She hadn't cried since she buried her dad and she wasn't about to turn into an emotional wimp. “Give me a nap and I'll be fine.”