Chapter Fourteen
“Cyn-tya! Cyn-tya! Lass!”
Something warm patted my cheek. I opened my eyes to see Torq’s face above me, his face grim, worried. He touched my cheek with gentle fingers. Still cradled in his arms on the ground in the dark, I raised a hand to his face, careful to avoid his stitches.
“Where did you come from?” I whispered.
“Euan, Kenny and I followed as soon as they threw a bucket of water on my face to awaken me.”
I heard loud voices, speaking in Gaelic, and I stiffened.
“What’s happening?”
I tried to sit up, but Torq didn’t really allow it. The horses grazed nearby, close enough that I could see them in the darkness. I suspected I had only been unconscious for a few moments. My lips tingled at Torq’s unexpected kiss.
“From the shouting, it appears that Euan and Kenny have taken my foolish cousin captive.”
“Iskair!” I said. “Oh, Torq! Your cousin. I can’t imagine. He’s been kind to me!” I offered in support.
“Are ye concerned for his well-being then, lass? Did ye forget that he kidnapped ye from Dun Eistean? I canna imagine how much that must have pained ye given yer injury.”
“It was painful, I’m not going to lie, but he said it wasn’t his idea, and then when he discovered I’d been taken by his guys...boys...lads, then it was too late. They were going to ransom me.”
The shouts, sounding more like bickering than war fighting, grew louder as they approached.
“Ransom ye? The laird has no such money to give for ransom! What else could they want? Not even for ye would John give up Dun Eistean. They have his castle and lands already. What more can the Macleod take from him?”
I felt the anger coursing through Torq’s tense body.
“No! Not a ransom from the Morrisons. From my English viscount father.” I grinned crookedly. Oddly, I didn’t know if Torq had a sense of humor or irony. There was much I didn’t know about him. I had learned recently though that his tall, strong body was capable of great passion.
“Ah! Clever lass! Ye bought yerself some time then.”
“I did, but I’m not sure from what. What were they going to do with me? What was the point of taking me?”
“That’s what the clans do when they feud. The Macaulay would probably have turned ye over to his housekeeper or cook to act as servant. I dinna care to discuss what Angus would have done. He’s a monster.”
Horses’ hooves thudded up to us, our own mounts startling until Torq called out to them in a soothing voice.
“Mistress Dunnon! There ye are! Well, I see that ye are acquainted with my cousin!” Iskair said, riding behind Kenny. He slipped down from the horse, acting less like a captive than the relative he was. The other men slid down from their horses, and everyone crowded around me. Self-conscious did not begin to describe my reactions. I would have jumped up if I could.
“Here I am! Sorry!” I said with a scrunched nose of apology.
“Ye are safe—that is all that matters. I am not certain how I will explain ye to the Macaulay, but it seems I must.”
“Ye dinna have to explain anything to the Macaulay. The man disna own ye,” Torq said gruffly. “Return wi us to Dun Eistean.”
“Ye ken I cannot, Torq, and ye ken why.”
“I do, but I am no certain ye have been helpful.”
I looked from one to the other. Iskair dropped to one knee beside us. Kenny and Euan followed suit. I was grateful they no longer stood over me, but something was happening that I didn’t understand.
“Be that as it may, I have tried, and I have sacrificed much,” Iskair said.
“What have ye sacrificed, Iskair?” Torq asked, his tone bitter. “Ye live in a fine warm castle, ye eat whatever ye wish, ye ride a fine horse, and ye are free to join in raids against women and children at Dun Eistean. What have ye sacrificed?”
Iskair’s face tightened, and my heart went out to him. Torq’s disgust was something I hoped I never experienced.
“Do ye ken that my mother passed thinking I was traitor to our kin? She would no speak to me for two years. It was on the day that she died that I finally told her the truth. She cried. I cried. I have sacrificed, Torq, and though I have no been as helpful as ye would wish, I have kept the Macaulays from killing ye.”
The pain between the two men was palpable. Anger, certainly, but just barely beneath the surface, I saw a great deal of pain.
Torq’s voice was deep with emotion when he spoke.
“I am sorry for my harsh words, cousin. I worried for the lass here, and I lashed out at ye. I am sorry. I ken ye do what ye can. I wish ye would return to the island with us. Ye are of my blood”
“As ye are of mine.” Iskair put a hand on Torq’s shoulder. “Come. Let us lift the lass onto your horse. I will be taking mine back.”
“I love your horse,” I murmured stupidly.
“So do I,” Iskair said with a flash of teeth.
Torq scooped me up and held me out to Iskair like a treat.
“What? Wait!” I cried out. “Where am I going?”
Torq climbed onto his horse and reached for me.
“Dinna be afeared, lass. Ye are coming with me. And then ye are going home.”
Iskair lifted me up into Torq’s arms.
“It pains her to sit astride,” Iskair said.
Torq cuddled me in his arms, but I couldn’t relax. I had heard his last words, and my heart had gone cold.
Iskair turned and said something in Gaelic to Euan and Kenny. They shuffled, seeming to disagree with his comment.
Torq said something to the group in Gaelic.
Before I knew what was happening, Kenny pulled his sword out and hit Iskair on the head with the butt of the hilt. Iskair fell to his knees.
“Stop!” I screeched. The horse startled, and Torq brought it under control. “What are you doing?” I cried out.
Iskair, one hand holding his bleeding forehead, signaled to me that he was okay. A tough Scot, he rose on unsteady legs.
“Lass, if Iskair returns to Murdo Macaulay unharmed, they will think he released ye,” Torq explained. “Ye told me yerself the Macaulay intended to ransom ye. He will no be pleased with Iskair for losing ye.”
I sighed. “Are you all right, Iskair?” I called out.
“Kenny did no hit me with any great force. It is but a scratch. Farewell, lass. I dinna ken if I will see ye again, but I wish ye well. And give yer father my regards.” Iskair smiled, mounted his horse and said something to the men in Gaelic.
They responded in kind and mounted their horses.
Iskair maneuvered his mount next to Torq and spoke to him in Gaelic. They patted each other, and Torq turned his horse and started out on a trot.
“We have but a few hours until dawn, and we must put distance between us.”
I couldn’t see Iskair behind us but suspected that he waited, watching.
“There’s something I really don’t understand about Iskair. Why does he stay with the Macaulays?”
“We have said too much already. It is no my place to share his secrets. Did ye like my cousin?”
“I did, very much,” I said sentimentally. I had traded one hero for another, then back again, and my head was spinning.
“Verra much?” Torq asked, his baritone deep.
“Yes.”
“I see,” he said.
I listened to the sound of Torq’s fast heartbeat as I lay in his arms. Exhausted, warm and not too uncomfortable on the horse’s rhythmic back, I fell asleep.
Bright rays of sun pierced my eyelids, awakening me as I saw it just peeping out over the horizon. I looked up at Torq, his eyelids drooping as he rode. We no longer trotted, but ambled.
“You should stop to sleep,” I said.
He looked down at me, unsmiling. “We are no far from Dun Eistean. I will rest then.”
I looked at Euan and Kenny to our left. They too drowsed with hanging heads as their horses plodded along. Beyond, I could see the sea as we paralleled the coastline.
I looked back at Torq, who looked ahead. His fervent embrace, the passionate way that he had kissed me, seemed to belong to the night. My cheeks burned as I remembered the moment.
“What did you mean when you said I was going home?”
“It is time, lass. Ye dinna belong here. It is too dangerous, and if ye can return to yer home, ye must.”
I could hardly breathe at his words. Had I mistaken the depth of his emotions? Had I misunderstood his embrace, the kiss? Had I fantasized an intimacy that didn’t exist?
“That’s not your call,” I said, wishing I were anywhere but in his arms. Unwanted, I might as well have been listening to my father sending me away years before.
Torq didn’t look at me but set his jaw stubbornly.
“Aye, it is no my call, but John and Ann will see it my way.”
“Ann won’t!”
“She will. She as much said the same, no? Ye dinna belong here. Ye are too soft for this life, too easily broken, like a porcelain dish. Ye canna survive. Look at ye! Ye canna even walk yet!”
Anger, fury and heartbreak welled up inside me. I wanted off the horse. I want out of Torq’s arms, but I was trapped!
“Look, Torq. I really appreciate what it took for you guys to rescue me. And I’m sorry I can’t walk very well. And I’m sorry I ever came here. Really! It wasn’t my choice, but you know what? You’re right! Maybe it is time for me to go. I’d rather go back to where I was wanted.”
I shut my mouth, closed my eyes and gritted my teeth.
“Lass, I didna say ye were no wanted—”
I held up a hand. “Please don’t talk to me anymore. I’m just going to sleep now. Wake me when we get there!”
I fought against the tears that pooled in the corners of my eyes, but unwilling to let Torq know that I was crying and “too soft for this life,” I refused to wipe at the moisture, hoping he wouldn’t see.
I wasn’t quite sure what had happened in the intervening hours since he had kissed me. I felt sure that I had misinterpreted his kiss as one of romantic passion and not of relief. Caught up in a historical era often fraught with danger, where clans feuded with one another and life was often foreshortened by war or disease, I had imagined a bond between Torq and me that didn’t exist...not for him anyway.
I was the fragile “porcelain doll” time traveler who needed to be turned around and escorted gently back across the threshold to safety. And maybe Torq wasn’t wrong. Hardly an intrepid archaeologist, I hadn’t even made it an hour on the dig before I fell into a hole...and through time.
My father had allowed me to visit him on a dig once in upstate New York, and had sent me packing within two days after I unerringly dug up shards of clay pottery with a trowel that I had found. I had been given strict instructions to do no more than watch his students or himself, but to touch nothing. The work had looked so simple, even for a nine-year-old, and I had found a little out-of-the-way spot and started digging, hoping to impress my father with a piece of clay.
I had indeed found clay, but in my father’s view, I had ruined that minute portion of the dig site, and though his students gave me sympathetic looks, I saw in their eyes that I had messed up. He’d had one of the students take me to the airport that afternoon, and my divorced mother had cradled me in her arms when I sobbed my regrets.
I had studied archaeology to spite my father, in spite of him, in truth, probably to impress him, but he had been long dead when I entered college.
I swallowed hard. Dwelling on painful memories of my late—and distant—father was not going to help me avoid a bout of tears. I pressed my lips together and lifted one eyelid to see Torq’s face set, grim, unsmiling. A muscle ticked in his jaw. His stitches appeared to be healing nicely—no red spread out from the wound. I couldn’t see his neck, but I hoped that healed as well. A smattering of dried blood showed at his hairline, and I realized that was where the Macaulays must have hit him to knock him out the previous day.
I sighed. The poor man had taken a bruising in the past few days.
“Is that where the Macaulays hit you?” I asked, relenting.
He glanced down at me and touched a hand to his forehead.
“Aye, though I am no as strong as Iskair. I fainted dead away.”
His blue eyes crinkled as they did, though he again did not smile.
“You certainly do get beaten up quite a bit.”
“Lately it has seemed so.”
“Iskair said that you and he played together as children?”
“Aye, Iskair and I grew up at Ardmore Castle. His mother and my father were sister and brother.”
“How is it that he went with the Macaulays then when the Macleods took Ardmore Castle?”
Torq looked down at me, his expression flat.
“Ye ask a fair amount of questions about Iskair.”
“I was just wondering.”
Torq chewed on a corner of his lower lip before continuing.
“His father was a Macaulay. When my aunt passed, his father returned to Macaulay land near Broder Castle. He took Iskair with him. Iskair had no choice, but I ken he didna want to go. In his heart, Iskair is a Morrison. He loved Ardmore Castle.”
“Is his father still alive? Is that why he stays?”
“Nay, his father passed away as well.”
“Then why does he stay?” I knew Torq was avoiding the question, but I thought I’d give it one last try.
“Ye do ask a great many questions about my cousin!” he said between visibly clenched teeth. “Perhaps ye should ask him directly!”
“Well, I tried actually, but he was always a bit mysterious, said he had his secrets.”
“I am sorry for ye then. As I said, they are his secrets, no mine to share wi ye.”
I looked up at Torq’s stern face. “You’re going to miss me when I’m gone.”