Chapter Three
Aedan MacLeod looked down at the lass asleep in one of the guest chamber beds and cursed. “What the hell do ye think you’re doing, Gwen? You’ve used magic to bring her here? Are ye daft, lass?”
His survival instinct roared to be rid of her and the magic that surrounded her, a beacon for anyone who suspected them of such. The gifts of the MacLeod clan were a blessing and a curse. Should anyone discover their powers, all would be lost, including his head. And he was rather fond of his head exactly where it was. The lass needed to go home, and soon.
“It’ll be fine, Aedan. Ye worry too much. No one will ever find out about her. As soon as she wakes, I’ll explain to her why she’s here, and she’ll understand. I promise she’ll not cause ye any trouble.”
“And what is it that you’ve brought her here for? I’m interested to know myself.” His sister’s inability to meet his gaze made his stomach churn. “Gwendolyn, what has your scheming mind been thinking up?”
She sighed. “She’s perfect for ye. Strong-willed, independent, and alluring.” His sister gestured at the woman. “I thought if you got to know her a little you might form an attachment and have a handfasting ceremony.”
“That’s no reason to risk our lives. I want the truth. Why her, and not a lass from our time?”
Gwen sighed and slumped in a chair. “I know you’ve been showing interest in Aline Grant, and I’ll not have it. Surely, you know of the rumors that follow the lass. That she’s slept with half of Scotland and no doubt, half of England, as well.”
Aedan had heard the rumors. Though with a brother like Evan Grant, a hawk hovering over Aline’s every move, he’d not believed them. But his sister’s dislike of the girl, a disappointment, to be sure, wouldn’t stop him from marrying who he needed to. “She’s chaste. I’m certain of it, or I wouldn’t be considering her.”
His sister met his eyes and compassion flickered in their depths. He grit his teeth, not at all liking when his sister looked at him like that. “Do you not see that this Abigail lass resembles Gail? It’s almost as if she’s been re-born hundreds of years from now.”
He held up his hand, having heard enough. There was no bringing back the woman he’d loved as a lad. A girl who’d grown into a woman who matched him in every way, until a fever in her sixteenth year had taken her life.
Looking down on the lass once more, he studied her. Aye, she was similar, in coloring and looks to Gail, but she wasn’t what his clan needed. “Whoever I choose, sister, whether it is Aline Grant or a lass from an allied clan, she’ll bring our family coin, a good name, and valuable men for our forthcoming battle with Clan O’Cain.”
“Forget the O’Cains. What’s done is done, and you’re no use to any of us dead. And we’re not in need of coin or what Aline could bring to our home. You are not always correct in your path through life, brother. You do not have to sacrifice your future happiness for the safety of your people.”
Aedan rounded on his sister and only just remembered he wasn’t allowed to kill the girl. Of all the idiotic foolery she was talking. “I’ll hear no more of it. My decision is made. And if it hasn’t escaped your notice, dear little sister, we have half of the Highland families bearing down on us right at this moment, for the Highland Games. They’ll be bringing their daughters for me to choose from. This woman could tell everyone of our acquaintance what we’re capable of. What if she wants to go home to her time? What year, pray, is she from?”
“She’s from the twenty-first century. Twenty seventeen, to be precise.”
“Och, you’re mad, lass, and we’re doomed. When she wakes up, you need to send her back immediately.” Aedan ran a hand through his hair and started to pace. “We can’t have her running around the castle grounds screaming about what you’ve done. If the clans hear of this magic, even I cannot save you, or myself, from certain death. You’ll be labeled a witch, and rightfully so.”
Gwen came to stand beside the bed. The woman hadn’t woken. She was as still as death, the only sign she was alive was the small rise and fall of her chest. Aedan tore his gaze from the soft, inviting curves he suspected she housed under her strange garments.
“You know I cannot send her back straight away, so whether ye approve of my actions or not, she is here for a time. I will talk to her and settle her nerves. Please give me some time. Trust me. I’ve never let ye down before.”
Aedan pointed to the woman in the bed. “You’ve let me down now. Fix this.” He stormed from the room and headed toward the main hall where the night’s meal was being served. Gwen’s magic was strong, he knew that, but she’d never acted without such thought before. To bring someone through time, putting the woman and his family in danger from those who would use anything to conquer and lay claim to their home, was beyond him.
The timing couldn’t be worse. With the other clan families due to arrive for the games, their daughters paraded for his perusal, he was loath to have to worry about anything other than the unwanted responsibility of who he should marry and make the future MacLeod bride.
Not that he really desired one. After Gail had passed, such a future had seemed lost. His sister, once married, could produce offspring as well as any other, his home passing to a nephew. A wife might warm his bed, but she’d never warm his heart.
Not to mention that the O’Cains had sent Aedan’s other sister back, half-blind and in disgrace, clearly taunting him to engage in another war. The thought of sweet Jinny being used by his rival made the blood boil in his veins.
The day she’d arrived home, battered, blind, and a figment of who she’d once been had bombarded him with shame. He had truly believed the O’Cains had wished for peace as much as he. How wrong he’d been.
They had used her, bartered her body, while letting her become the clan’s amusement and plaything.
He wouldn’t stand for the insult, and once the Highland Games were over, he’d seek justice for his sibling. Never again would he outstretch his hand in peace toward the O’Cains.
Aedan sat at the dais, away from the rest of his clan, and watched his fellow clansmen eat and boast about the forthcoming revelry. He could find no interest in the night or the delectable wenches who served at the table. If the family secret was revealed, all this would be taken from them. The name MacLeod would be tarnished, forever remembered with distaste. Not to mention, the O’Cains would take advantage of their misfortune and claim his home and lands for themselves.
He couldn’t allow any of his fears to come to pass.
“Trouble, laird?”
Aedan nodded in welcome to his best swordsman, and distant family member, Braxton, as he sat beside him. His clansman ripped into a turkey leg and moaned his delight.
“Aye,” Aedan said. “Of the worst kind. A secret kind. A kind that could get those we love killed. Your betrothed has brought a woman from the future to be my bride.”
Braxton laughed, startling the few people that sat before them to turn and stare.
Aedan glowered. “I don’t see it as a laughing matter. She could ruin us all. Ye included.”
His clansman tried and failed to rein in his mirth. “Apologies, but does it surprise you? So far, you’ve dismissed all the women paraded before ye. Why, there are bets even now that the women due to arrive with their respective families, will all leave with their respective families.” His friend slapped him on the back. “Face it, old friend, your sister likes to meddle. It is nothing new, and it’s one of the reasons why we both love her. Is it not?”
“Aye, I know, but damn it. I must crush the O’Cains for their treachery. A wife from an allied clan, with a bountiful amount of fighting men, is what I need.” Aedan rubbed his jaw. “Not to mention, the lass she’s brought back is going to stick out like a Saxon wearing a kilt in the Highlands.”
The thought of the woman, the memory of her long legs in the tight trews she’d had on, her ass the perfect size for his hands, made him shift in his seat. Aedan would wager all the gold in his coffers that her skin was softer than a babe’s… He swore, picking up his mug and taking a heady sip. “As soon as Gwen is able, she must return her to the time she belongs.”
“Is the lass comely?”
Groaning, Aedan didn’t meet his friend’s penetrating stare. Damn it. She was comely, more bloody comely than he’d seen for an age. Not that she’d looked overly appealing when she’d vomited on his boots. At least she hadn’t gushed and thrown herself at him, nearly impaling herself on his sword, like so many other lasses. “No. I’ve never seen an uglier wench in my life.”
His friend choked on his mead. “You jest, surely. I can’t imagine Gwen not selecting a woman who would suit your tastes.”
Aedan tore at the bread and scooped up the stew on his plate. “She did. The lass doesn’t suit, and that’s the end of this conversation.”
His sister entered the room and searched out Braxton. She walked toward them, her hands clutched tightly in front of her. Aedan stood, noting the distress darkening her normally serene visage.
“What is it, Gwen?” he asked.
She smiled at Braxton and sat, piling her plate with food from the platter. “Abigail hasn’t woken. I’m scared that grabbing her from her own time has caused her harm.”
Aedan sighed and sat back down. “I’m sure the lass will be fine, Gwen. As for your well-being, that is another matter. Ye are not to use any magic for the foreseeable future. Do ye understand?”
“So ye don’t want me to send her home, then?”
His sister grinned, and he fought to control his temper. She had a serious flirtation with death. “Do not push me, lass. Ye know what I mean.”
Gwen rolled her eyes and commenced eating.
“I’m sure she’ll wake soon, my love. It was probably quite a shock seeing the barbarian brother of yours for the first time. She’ll come around. And ye never know, your plan to see her married to Laird MacLeod may work.”
Aedan stood. “One more word about your ridiculous designs for my wife, and I’ll lock you both up in the dungeon.”
“In the same cell?”
His sister giggled.
“Watch it, Braxton. My gille sharpened my sword today.”
He walked from the room and headed toward his quarters. The tower stairs wound up past two floors before he came to his. He wanted the O’Cain clan burned to the ground before the first snows of winter fell on the Highland peaks. Fighting a clan battle knee deep in snow would kill them and the O’Cains and that was not how he wanted this war to end.
Therefore, he needed a wife, and soon. Wind blew in through the arrow holes in the walls and he shivered, the thought of marriage sending a chill down his spine. Not to mention the now added problem of an inconvenient woman from the future to deal with.
Perhaps he ought to kill her. The risk to those he held dear was immense. No one would miss the woman prone to vomiting on men. No one here knew her at all.
He entered his bedchamber and bolted the door. His bed was turned down already and a roaring fire burned in the grate, casting flickering shadows across the stone walls. The wind howled outside, the drafts seeking entrance through the smallest of cracks. Aedan sat and stared at the golden flames, the heat going some way to warming his core, but it wasn’t enough.
The woman was a threat to their safety that was already in danger from the O’Cains.
He ran a hand over his jaw, itching the stubble that had grown over the last few days. That he would go to war over Jinny was in part his fault. He should have checked on her. Traveled the miles between them and demanded access to her, spoken with her alone to gauge her happiness.
But he hadn’t, and now he must live with the guilt of his mistake for the rest of his life. No wife of his would be treated such. That was one thing he could promise his sisters. It may not be a marriage of love and affection, but it would be one of trust and respect.
He sighed. They had a sennight before the clans arrived for the Highland Games. A sennight in which to either send her home, or at least make her conform to his rules and play the part of a lady until they could send her back.
Gwen would never allow him to kill her. What he really ought to do was kill his frustrating sister. Had she, for once, thought through her actions, none of this would have happened.