Chapter Five
A week later, the Laird of Ross was well enough to dine with the family downstairs. Kenzie was not pleased about it. Just his presence was enough to set her on edge. Too manly by far, and only too willing to give her looks that set a woman’s skirts on fire. He could probably lift her up as if she weighed nothing at all. Hold her against a wall and—
“Are ye enjoying ye meal, my dear?” Gwen asked, smiling. “Is there something wrong with the broth?”
Kenzie took a sip of her mead, needing to cool down her core temperature. Tomorrow night she’d be sure not to sit so close to the fire. “Not at all. It’s very tasty. Why do you ask?”
“Only that ye’ve stopped eating, but as long as all’s well…”
“All is very well. I promise.” Kenzie smiled.
Gwen’s gaze moved to Ben who sat beside her, and Kenzie didn’t need to be a nuclear scientist to know Gwen was aware of what Kenzie was thinking. Or more truthfully, who she was thinking of. Like the maid who stood near the window. The young woman had practically been salivating over Ben the entire night, and he’d been lapping it up like the bachelor he was.
“Ye’re not pleased with me, lass. Am I not what ye thought a Highland lord ought to be?”
It was an odd question, and Kenzie studied him while gathering her thoughts. “What makes you think I’d expect anything more than what I’ve found?”
“Ye remember Abby Cross…the lass ye helped to return to our time.”
“Of course,” she said.
“She told me of a certain type of book that you women like to read. Books that are filled with muscular sword-wielding men, with long, flowing locks, and big—”
“I get the point,” she said, cutting him off before he said something she neither wanted to hear or imagine. Or imagine more than she’d already been imagining. It was bad enough to be beside a man who encompassed all that romance novels stated and more. He certainly had the hair thing going. Lovely, long locks she could clasp in her fist, to hold him against her mouth or other delectable places.
Kenzie poured more mead, she didn’t mind this drink as it had a distinct honey taste to it. Much more preferable to water that could make you ill, or the ale that was too bitter for her palate. She should’ve really stopped reading those romance novels before coming back to this time. It was giving her ideas she had no right to be thinking. “What Abby may have mentioned, but you’ve chosen to ignore, is that all the heroes in those books were kind, gentle, and had spades of honor.” Kenzie fought to eat her food with the wooden spoon and used the small knife instead. She narrowed her eyes when she caught Ben watching her. “Do you have any of those traits, my lord?”
His gaze met hers. “Och, lass, ye wound me.” Ben clasped his chest, mocking laughter in his eyes. “I have all of those qualities, and furthermore, I’ve been told my hands are very gentle, if not a little maddening.” He winked, and her stomach flipped. Damn his sex appeal. He was like a walking Viagra pill for women. “I’m more than willing to prove my words are true if ye were interested.”
“I’ll pass, but thanks for the offer.” Kenzie ignored his chuckle and settled down to eat her dinner, but her mind refused to cooperate. With each spoon of broth and sip of her drink she could feel his attention on her, burning her like a brand. It left her hot and discombobulated.
“Do ye really find me so repulsive?” he asked, waiting for her to look at him. “I know we didn’t have the best introduction, but as a descendant of Gwen’s, I would like us to be friends. May we start afresh?”
Kenzie wasn’t sure if that was a good idea. If she actually grew to like the man, what would her hormones do then? She bit her lip, knowing exactly how her body would react and that was one road she refused to go down. But then, if she befriended the man, she could find out who he socialized with outside of her family. Someone obviously had killed him at some point, and from what history had assumed, it was someone he knew. Being around Black Ben could help her solve the mystery of what had happened to the Laird of Ross.
He continued to eat, and she covertly studied him. He laughed at a tale that Braxton told, and Kenzie watched as his Adams apple bobbed with his reply. Three months and this man would be no more, would be as dead as his wife. She shook her head. No matter his sexual innuendoes, and her reactions to them, no one deserved to die for nothing. And it was sad that he would pass away so young.
Ben caught her gaze, his eyes dark and intense, and heat sizzled between them. “Well, lass. Can we be friends?”
She nodded, her body on edge and not at all calm and assured as she prided herself on being. “I’d like to try.” And in truth she did. Black Ben was a Scottish historical icon. Who wouldn’t want to learn about the man? But that wasn’t her only reason. He fascinated her in a way no man ever had. Whether this was because the date he’d died was etched into her brain, or because the way he lived his life, or his friendship with her ancestral family, Kenzie wasn’t sure, but she wanted to know what made him tick.
“I have a suggestion as to how we may start our new friendship.”
“You do?” Kenzie pushed her plate away and took a cob of bread from the bowl. “And?”
“Do ye ride?”
“Horses?”
He grinned, biting his lip a little. Kenzie couldn’t look away at his perfectly straight, white teeth, that were absolutely clean. “What did ye think I meant when I said ride?” He chuckled.
Heat bloomed on her face. “Very funny. Do be serious.”
“My apologies,” he said, placing a hand over his heart and bowing a little. “But yes, I meant horses, although the direction yer mind went certainly has sparked another image of how we could spend the day.”
“Do you never stop?”
He shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “Sometimes.” He paused. “I was going to suggest we spend the day riding ye family’s land. With me, you’ll be safe enough, and I could use some exercise, having been kept indoors these last few weeks. And it would give me some time to quiz ye on where ye came from.”
Kenzie thought about it. A day out riding with Black Ben. To some, this would be a dream come true. A historian’s lotto win. And it would be enjoyable. Yes, he flirted, but it was nothing she couldn’t handle, and no matter what he said, or had said in the past, there was something about the man that resonated trust. He had a violent past with battles and clan disputes, but Gwen trusted him, and Kenzie was certain that he would never hurt her or force anything on her she didn’t wish.
“That sounds wonderful. I’d love to see the lands. Thank you.”
“Ye’re very welcome. We’ll break our fast and meet outdoors first light tomorrow.”
…
Kenzie woke, her blood singing. She jumped from the bed and dressed quickly, not bothering to ring for her appointed maid. It seemed silly of her to use another person to help her dress or clean, and she’d much prefer to do everything in private, especially since her clothing wasn’t handmade or historically accurate. A maid would notice such things immediately. Having servants wasn’t something she’d ever get used to as she pulled her hair back into a ribbon and tied it up.
The sound of voices floated up to her room, and she headed downstairs, following the smell of a hot meal to the breakfast room. Candles were lit along the length of the table, as full light had yet to make its mark across the land, and Kenzie spooned some eggs onto the seventeenth-century version of toast, which actually looked like burned bread.
“Ye beat me this morning, lass. And here I thought I was up before the house itself.”
“I was excited about getting out and looking around and came down as soon as I could. I assume we’re still going?”
“Aye. Of course.” Ben served up his own breakfast and sat beside her. It surprised Kenzie that he wished to be this close to her and not seated anywhere else at the table. But then, they were starting their friendship fresh, and it was much easier to converse when beside one another than at opposite ends of a table.
“Do you think our outing will take all day?”
“Mayhap it will. Ye will have to wait and see.”
They finished their meal in companionable silence before Ben walked them out to the stable. A young lad held two saddled horses. Kenzie’s mount was higher than she’d ever ridden before, and nerves skittered in her belly.
“Is the horse safe?” She patted the bay mare’s nose, smiling when it nuzzled into her palm. “You know what I mean. Is she placid?”
“Aye, she’s placid enough. You’ll be fine, lass. I’ll not let ye fall.”
The sureness in his tone settled Kenzie’s concerns, and with the help of a mounting block, she climbed onto the saddle and settled herself.
“We’ll head east along the coast and come back through the small forest the estate is flanked by to the west. You’ll see the best of both locations that way.”
“Lead on.” Kenzie trotted out after Ben, and slowly, thankfully, he guided them toward the beach. Kenzie had been this way many times. It was the same well-worn walking track that she used in her own time when going down to the shore.
“Does it look familiar to ye?” He cast a look her way before gazing back toward the shore.
“It does. In fact, it’s still the same route to get to the beach.” She chuckled. “I was just thinking how weird that was and yet how wonderful that no matter how much time has passed, some things never change.”
“Nay, they don’t, do they?” He looked contemplative before guiding his horse onto the shore, where Kenzie came up abreast of him.
“Is it reasonably safe around these parts?”
“Are ye scared, lass?” Ben asked, not looking at her but watching the ocean instead.
“A little,” she conceded. “I’ve read so much about clan battles and how violent they can be. Most often, the attack happens when one least expects it. I don’t know how to fight. I wouldn’t know what to do should such a thing happen to us out here.”
“Well, ’tis lucky I do.” He reached over, slipping a stray hair that had come loose of her pony tail behind her ear. The contact sent shivers down her spine and her stomach clenched. “I’ll protect ye lass, with my life.”
“Even though only a few days ago we were not the best of friends?”
“Of course. Ye’re a woman. So, unless ye come at me with a sword, I’ll protect ye at my own cost.”
Kenzie wondered how it was that anyone could be so selfless with their life. To protect others, even if it cost you your life, was a sacrifice she wasn’t sure she could make. How was it that the men of this era never second-guessed themselves? Never doubted what they should do, who they should protect?
“I find it infinitely fascinating that you could sacrifice yourself for me. Not,” she said, gesturing to the woods that grew denser beside the beach, “that I would like us to be stormed by an enemy to test your honor, but how do you do it? How do you know that you would gladly give up your life so that someone you hardly know can live?”
He threw her an odd look before he shrugged. “Because no matter what ye may have read about me in your history books, or know of this time, I’m an honorable man. But do not be fooled that everyone is, lass. Should we be ambushed, if I tell ye to run, get away, or hide, ye must do as ye’re told.”
Kenzie nodded. “I understand, and Gwen said something similar to me not long after I arrived. And, of course, I will, I promise. I don’t want to die.”
“Very good. Now, there is a track up ahead we could take into the forest, which will bring us to the point on the cliffs. Did ye wish to see the view?”
She pulled her horse to a stop and looked up at the hill that came to a head overlooking the sea. From this point, the hill reminded Kenzie of the white cliffs of Dover, except not as high or steep. And instead of the crystal-white chalk, this hill was covered in moss and rocks, right down to the surf, which was a little wilder than the flowing waves now beside them. “I would love to see it.” She’d often hiked up to the spot, spent hours reading on the clifftop with nothing but the sound of the sea crashing against the land. To see if it had changed between this time and hers was exactly what she wanted to do.
They rode into the forest and Kenzie was thankful she’d brought a warm woolen shawl with her. Under the cover of the large trees and dense foliage, the air was moist and cooler. Ben worked their way in the direction of the lookout but stopped suddenly, lifting a hand for her to be silent.
Kenzie did as he told her and the hair at the back of her neck rose.
“Get off the horse, lass.”
She quickly did as he bade, and with a gesture, Ben walked the horses off the little track and into the forest. Within only a few yards, the track was no longer visible, but Ben didn’t stop, just kept walking the horses farther in, as if to hide them.
“What did you hear?” she whispered, bumping into the back of Ben when he stopped.
“Men.”
Kenzie looked back toward where they’d come and listened, and finally she heard it, too. The muffled chatter of men. Why were they in the forest not far from Gwen’s home? And did Gwen know? What if they were on their way to kill her family?
“Shush, lass.” The whispered words against her ear made Kenzie aware of another danger—the one that stood beside her. Clad in a tunic, with his tartan kilt, Black Ben looked the part of a warrior Scot. A mixture of danger and delicious temptation.
“Do you know who they are?”
“Nay, I don’t recognize the voices.” Ben took a step toward where they’d come and moved some ferns to get a better look. “Ah, McDonnel men. Deserters, by the look of their filthy tartans.”
Kenzie came up behind Ben and peeked about his shoulder. Unconsciously, she clasped his hips to steady herself and regretted the action as soon as she did it. He was solid muscle. She wanted to run her hands downward to see if his ass was just as solid, just as firm.
Of course, she’d seen him naked, so she was very aware that he was well endowed. His body was practically perfect.
Shouts sounded from the trail, and Ben pulled her onto the ground, muffling her mouth with his hand. Kenzie couldn’t breathe, but she wasn’t sure if it was from the fright or that Ben was laying over her, his mouth awfully close to her cheek and his form running the length of her body.
Oh, dear Lord, I really should have stopped reading those romance novels…
“Horses have been here and not long ago. Let’s go, lads, before we’re caught.”
Everyone seemed to be in agreement, and not long after, Kenzie heard the sound of horses cantering away from their location. “Do you think it’s safe now?” she muttered under his palm.
Ben removed his hand, and she gazed up at him just as he looked down at her. Another mistake. He was so close.
“Ye have dirt on ye cheeks.” Ben wiped her skin with his thumb, his attention snapping to her lips.
Was he going to kiss her? Oh please, God, let it be so. Kenzie wanted to know what it would feel like to act on this overwhelming desire for the man. A man who was not meant for her, no matter how much she found him physically attractive.
“We should go. Come, lass,” he said, standing and pulling her up. “Those men are long gone, and we can still make the point, if we go now.”
“Okay.” Kenzie walked to her horse and with Ben’s help, mounted. His hands stayed on her hips longer than they needed to, and she adjusted her seat, trying to calm the heart that beat a million times too fast in her chest.
She watched as he swung up on his horse, his kilt lifting a little and giving her a view of a muscled thigh. “Oh, for crying out loud.”
“Did ye say something, lass?”
Kenzie kicked her mount on. “No, nothing. Lead on.”
They rode for a time in silence, and Kenzie assumed it was because Ben wanted to listen for the men, no matter that he’d said they were gone. And Kenzie was happy for the silence. She needed to compose herself. This attraction she had to the man was beyond annoying and truly illogical. She would be going back to her own time shortly, and she couldn’t forget there was the pesky problem of Ben disappearing or being killed by a never-known source.
As they climbed upward, the forest thinned, until the trees were sporadic and the ferns were replaced with small shrubs and heather.
At the top, Kenzie looked out over the ocean, its blue depths never changing, no matter the era. Rocks that she’d sat on in her time were in their rightful places. How wonderful that the earth could be so similar even after all the years.
“Have ye ever been up here before, lass? I know this is ye home in the future, but ye’re looking at the sea as if you’ve never seen such beauty.”
“I grew up in England, and only moved back to Scotland a couple of years ago, after my father died. I come up here often to read and relax. The view is as spectacular as it always has been.”
At a thumping sound, Kenzie turned in her seat and looked behind them, only to see the men from earlier riding hard toward them, swords drawn and raised.
“Ben, we have company.”
Before the words had left her lips, the ting of metal being drawn sounded beside her as Ben pulled a second long and deadly blade from his hip. “Stay on ye horse, and stay behind me for as long as ye can. And when I say so, ride hard for the trees. Head home and sound the alarm to Braxton.”
“I will.” Fear curled about her, and her horse shifted, stomping its feet the closer the four riders came. Kenzie pulled out a knife she’d hidden in her boot; it was pathetically small, but she only needed to stab a hand or something. Not that she wanted to get close enough to these men who, the closer they came, the angrier they looked.
On the cliff edge, Kenzie and Ben had nowhere to go, and the men slowed just before reaching them, menacing glee written across their faces.
“Ah, Black Ben, ’tis good to finally find ye. We’ve been looking for quite some weeks.”
Ben didn’t reply, but Kenzie noted his hand flexed on his sword handle.
“So ye’ve been hiding out on Macleod lands, hey? Didn’t think a Ross would be so cowardly.”
“What do ye want?” Ben asked, his back rigid, ready to defend her.
“Nothing that ye need to concern yourself about as ye will be dead within a few minutes.”
“Who sent ye?” Ben asked, his voice a lot calmer than Kenzie’s would’ve been had she been speaking.
“That also dinna concern ye, but know that once you’re dead, we’ll be claiming a good deal of blunt for our trouble.”
With Ben’s death guaranteed only a few months away, Kenzie couldn’t help but think this was a lead up to the eventual raid at Castle Ross. Kenzie clasped her reins, ready to go as soon as Ben told her. These men meant trouble, and she and Ben were not getting away without a fight.
The only solace was that Ben’s date of death was not today, so at least one of them was getting out of here alive. With that thought came another. Since she had traveled back in time, perhaps she’d already altered history and today was the day Ben would meet his fate?
A cold shiver ran through her blood, and she sent a silent prayer up to God that it wasn’t so. It was too soon for him. It would always be too soon.
…
Ben kept his gaze locked on the man in the middle of the little pack, the one who seemed to be in control of the rabble. They all looked small enough for him to deal with, but with men who no longer followed clan rules, it was anyone’s guess as to how they would react, or what they were willing to do. And he had Kenzie to keep safe.
“What are ye doing on Macleod land? The laird will not be pleased to find ye’re here without his consent.”
Each one laughed and snickered. “We heard the land was gifted to the laird’s sister. She’s a pretty lass, that Gwendolyn. Lovely and ripe, perfect for picking.”
The second largest rubbed his jaw. “Just like your sweet lass. Pretty, too, nice clean skin that we’d hate to mark, but…well, it happens doesn’t it, aye.”
Ben clenched his jaw. The thought of Gwen and sweet Kenzie getting into such abusive hands sent rage roaring through his blood. “You’ll have to get through me first, before ye touch either lass. And if ye do, dinna think to be touching her for long.”
The leader pointed his sword at Ben. “Shall we see how long it’ll take for us to get to your sweet lass? Shall we commence?”
“Aye, if ye’re ready to die.”
The man lunged, and Ben swiped his sword up, bringing it back down to slice against the man’s stomach. Instead of spilling his innards across the grass below their boots, he nipped the skin, leaving a perfect line of red that seeped onto his cut tunic.
“Are ye sure you wish to continue?” Ben asked, rolling his sword in his hand.
This time, the men came at him from all angles, and it took some effort to fight off the onslaught. Ben managed to land a solid blow against one of the men’s temples, and he went down, out cold, possibly dead if he was lucky.
The other two remained persistent. The fight carried on for some time, and Ben cursed his sickness that had made him weak; his stamina was not as it once had been. One of the men threw his sword in the direction of Kenzie, and before Ben could shout out to her to run, the weapon lodged firmly in her horse’s chest, killing the animal instantly. The horse and Kenzie went down together, and out of the corner of his eye, Ben could see Kenzie fighting to get her leg out from under the horse’s body.
“You’ll pay for that,” Ben said, his voice laced with deadly promise.
The third man he’d knocked out came to and joined his clansmen. The men lunged, and Ben fought hard, but three against one wasn’t good odds, especially after his illness. “Run Kenzie. Now. Get out of here.”
He was glad to see she was able to extricate her leg, and she bolted in the direction of home. Ben had maneuvered the men around so their backs were facing the cliff and sea, but one broke off and chased after Kenzie.
The other two laughed, and Ben lunged, striking one bastard with a killer blow to his stomach, which was already bleeding. This time, Ben was pleased to see his guts did spill out over his shoes, the man’s shocked gaze watching it land at his feet before he stumbled backward over the cliff.
The last one, an idiot who stopped fighting to watch his comrade die, never saw the blow that sliced into his shoulder and neck, cutting his head partly off.
Ben grabbed his horse, mounted, and took off in the direction Kenzie had fled. Ice water rushed through his blood at the sound of her scream. He urged his mount on, coming across a scene that he never wished to see again.
Kenzie lay beside a slow-flowing river, the filthy bastard over her, ripping at her dress and pushing her legs apart. He could see she was fighting him with everything she had, but the man was large, too strong for her.
Ben jumped off his horse as it was still moving, coming up behind the man and slitting his throat, his knife sinking into the man’s skin so deep Ben could feel the neck bone grind against his blade.
Ben should’ve pulled the man off Kenzie before killing him, and it wasn’t until absolute shock registered on Kenzie’s face did Ben realize what he’d done.
He threw the man to the side and pulled Kenzie into his arms, rubbing her back, hating that she shook, was cold and rigid. “All’s well, lass. Ye’re safe now. I have ye.” She sobbed into his arms, her hands coming around to clasp his midriff.
“You killed him. I saw. I saw.” She paused, taking a deep breath. “His head nearly came off.” Heaving sobs wracked her body, and Ben cringed.
“I’m sorry, lass. I should not have killed him before ye. I forgot ye’re not from my time, and you’ve probably never seen such before.”
She shivered in his arms, and he picked her up, sitting down on a nearby fallen log to hold her as she came to terms with what she’d witnessed. Not that Ben thought she’d ever get over such a sight, but he would comfort her for as long as it took. He’d seen the softer side of Abby MacLeod often enough to know that Kenzie’s time wasn’t as coarse, that the people of their time were not prone to such wars and violence. They no longer had to fight for survival in Scotland. They simply worked and lived with little trouble.
“I have his blood on me.”
“Aye, ye do.” He looked over to the slow flowing river. “Did ye want to wash it off?”
She looked toward the waterway but shook her head. “No, I just want to go home.” Kenzie looked up at him, and Ben had an overwhelming urge to protect her, to care for the woman in his arms, more so than any other woman ever.
He whistled for his horse and stood, carrying Kenzie to the beast’s side. He mounted and pulled her up before him, riding back to the house as fast as he could. A day that was supposed to be carefree and peaceful had turned into a nightmare.
As for the men who’d attacked them, he would be sending out Braxton’s men to see if any of them recognized who they were, before they buried the bodies.
Later that evening, he sat in the great hall, Braxton across from him, both quiet in contemplation.
“My men had never seen the men who attacked ye today. Granted they were wearing McDonnel tartan, but they could’ve stolen those, been deserters of another clan. I’ll send word to McDonnel to see if they’re missing any clansmen, and then we’ll know. But what concerns me more is why they attacked ye in the first place? Do ye know of anyone who would wish ye harm?”
“Nay, no one, although it seems someone has put a price on my head.” Ben thought on the attack and what it could bode for him in the future months. “They could’ve just been sayin’ that as well, to rattle me. Dinna forget I had Kenzie with me, and she’s a pretty morsel of flesh, if ever I saw one. They could’ve been after her.”
“Pretty morsel of flesh? Do we need to have a discussion as to why ye’re not allowed to court my great-too-many-times-to-count granddaughter?”
Ben met Braxton’s gaze and noted it was deadly serious. “What? I’m not good enough for ye bloodline? I think ye’re forgetting I’m a laird in my own right. I’ve not had my position bestowed on me because of who I married.”
“Watch yourself, Ben, or you’ll be finding yer ass out on my front stone step faster than ye can blink.”
“Will you two cease such stupidity? No one is kicking anyone out, and Ben, as much as we care for ye, consider ye a friend, Kenzie is not for you. Remember, she’s not staying for long, and it would be unwise of ye to form any sort of attachment to her.”
Ben downed his mead and poured another. It was too late not to form an attachment to the lass. He liked her, appreciated her company. Aye, the lass had a lovely face that just added to his pleasure when around her. “If ye think I’m going to fall in love with her, drop to my knees, and declare my life over the day she departs, ye daft in the head. I enjoy her company. That is all. There will be no further discussion on the matter.”
“I’m glad we’re in agreement,” Braxton said, still glaring.
“Braxton.” Gwen sighed, throwing her husband a quelling stare. “No matter what we say, or our reasoning behind it, Kenzie is a grown woman and will, I’m sure, make up her own mind as to who she allows courtship with. We cannot interfere in her life. It is not our place.”
“Ye would allow her to form feelings for someone not of her time?” Braxton whispered, looking about for servants.
Gwen sighed again. “Ye’re getting ahead of yourself and everything you are saying will probably never become an issue. Ben has stated he’s not interested in her in any romantic way, and from what I know of Kenzie’s feelings, she feels the same.”
“She said that?” A prickle of disappointment stabbed at him that Kenzie didn’t consider him in that light. He took another sip of mead, dismissing the madness in his head. “Getting back to what happened today, I think it would be best if ye placed some men on lookout and do a search throughout your land, check that no others are hiding, lying in wait to strike at us when we’re unprepared. Just as I was today.”
“In your condition, I’m surprised ye survived.” Gwen sat beside Braxton and summoned a servant to bring some bread. “When you came back and Kenzie was covered in blood, at first, I thought it was hers. My heart has never threatened to come up through my mouth, but today I venture to say it did.”
“Aye, mine, too. How is she, my love?”
“She had a bath upon returning and is now asleep, but in a little while, I’ll take up her dinner and make sure she eats. Today was a great shock to her. Not one she’ll ever forget, unfortunately.”
Ben shut his eyes to block out the image of Kenzie on the ground, fighting off a man who would’ve raped her had Ben been killed or if he’d failed to get there in time. “Is there any possibility that Kenzie has come back to hide from a problem in her life? Mayhap someone has found out about her abilities to travel in time and wants it for themselves. Wants to use her to alter history or some such madness?”
Braxton leaned back in his chair. “’Tis an idea I’d not thought possible. What do ye say, Gwen? Do ye think the lass is in some sort of trouble and needs our help?” He paused. “Her arrival here was odd and not expected. Not that we don’t love having the lass stay with us, but if she is in trouble, perhaps we could help her in some way.”
A servant came in and placed another flask of mead on the table, along with some freshly cooked bread rolls.
“I’d not thought of such a possibility, and I suppose it could not hurt to ask her.” Gwen offered Ben some food, and he waved it away. “I think it’s more realistic that the men were after ye, and their words to ye were truthful. Ye have an enemy, someone who’s willing to pay enough that those rabble rousers tried to take ye today. We shall increase security here, but ye need to think of ye own safety, Ben. Someone wants ye dead and ye need to find out who that someone is.”
Ben nodded. “Aye, you’re right, and I’ll have to think on the matter some more. I suppose I could’ve slept with someone’s wife without knowing it and the husband is now set on seeing my head on a stake. I’ve been in melees and clan disputes before, but to put an actual price on my head is somewhat determined.”
“You must watch yer back and keep yer guard up until we can get to the bottom of this,” Braxton said, biting into a bread roll.
“Ye said Kenzie hasn’t had her dinner yet. Do ye mind if I take it up to her? I want to ask her if she had a specific reason for being here and also check to see if she’s well. I must admit, I probably could’ve handled killing the man who attacked her better, or at the very least, not right in front of her.” Ben rubbed his jaw. He hated to imagine what the poor lass thought of his barbaric ways, and yet, he would kill the man again, would change nothing about his reaction, but mayhap, he would do it where Kenzie wouldn’t have seen.
“Cook is fixing up a tray for her now if you want to go down and collect it. ’Tis been some hours, and I’m sure Kenzie is due to wake soon. She’s probably quite hungry.”
Ben stood. “I’ll go and check.” He left them in the great hall and went to the kitchens where he found the food being placed on a tray, ready to go. Ben took it from the servant and left. As he walked up the stairs, he wondered what to say to Kenzie. How to comfort her, make sure she was well and not fretting over what she saw. He hoped she didn’t think him nothing but a Scottish savage.
He found her sitting up in bed. Candles bathed the room in light, and she looked as calm and as happy as she had been this morning before their ride.
“I brought ye dinner. I hope ye like stew.”
She smiled, nodding. “I do. Thank you.” She wiggled a little further up in the bed and settled the blankets over her stomach. “How are you? Were you hurt at all today?”
Ben placed the tray on her lap and sat on the bed beside her feet. She looked so small, so delicate in the large wooden bed. It was too big a bed to sleep alone in. He pushed the wayward thought aside, stupid thoughts such as those had no value in his life.
“Nay, lass. A few bruises and one cut across my shoulder, but nothing to worry about. I’ve had far worse. I’m more concerned for you. I know what I did in front of ye was probably not the best thing to see…and well…”
“It’s okay, Ben. Even though it was nothing I’d ever seen before, I’m glad you did it. He would have raped me had you not come. I’m glad he’s dead. At least the vile, human scum cannot do it to anyone else.”
“Eat,” he said, gesturing to her untouched meal. “I hope today has not frightened ye so much that you wish to return home.”
“Not at all.” Kenzie started to eat, and Ben was pleased to see some color come back into her cheeks.
“There is something else, something that Braxton thought may be the reason why the men attacked us in the first place. Now, hear me out before ye reply, and just know that we’re here to support and protect ye. We’ll not let anything happen to ye while you’re here.”
“I know you will.” She threw him a smile and took another spoonful of stew. “What did you want to ask?”
“We wondered if mayhap you had come back to our time to get away from someone who may be threatening harm against ye person. Is that so, lass? Did ye come back because someone was aware of your time-traveling abilities and wished the gift themselves or to use it to their advantage?”
Kenzie sat back against the headboard, and the action made Ben aware of her bedclothes. The sheerness of the tunic she wore. He shifted on the bed, conscious of how intimate the setting was.
“There is no one after me, and other than my mother, my friend Ann, and my cousin, the current Laird Macleod, no one knows of the gift I have and what I can do. I think you should look to yourself and who has a score to settle. They did state there was a price on your head. You need to find out why.”
All true, but still, Ben needed to be sure before finding out who his enemy was. “On ye travels to Gwen and Braxton’s home, ye encountered no one who would now wish ye harm?” A frown line blemished her brow before she shook her head.
“I have the ability to choose where I land if you gather my meaning. I arrived on the beach and saw no one. It is not me those men were after.”
He nodded. “Well, ’twould seem our attackers today were parasites who wished nothing but to do me harm at somebody’s direction. You being with me placed ye in danger and I apologize for that, lass.”
“Braxton’s men didn’t know who they were?”
“Nay, no one recognized them, but we have sent word to the McDonnel clan to see if any men are missing. They were wearing their tartans.” He gestured to her food once more. “Ye must eat, lass. You’ve had a shock to the system and food will help ye rest easier tonight.”
Kenzie settled into her food, and Ben was content to sit and watch over her as she did so. Surprisingly, the silence was pleasant, not at all similar to when he and Aline had been alone. Then, Ben had always tried to be busy, to show purpose or explain what was happening with the estate. But with Kenzie, there was no pressure to fill the silence with meaningless words. He was quite content to just sit and watch her, enjoy her presence and nothing more.
She pushed the bowl away and laid down her spoon. “Thank you for bringing my dinner up to me. I feel better for eating it.”
“I knew ye would.” Ben picked up the tray and placed it on the table beside the bed. “I’ll leave ye now to get some rest.”
“Ben,” she said, climbing out of bed and coming to stand before him.
He looked down, meeting her gaze. “Yes.”
She smiled a little and then pulled him into a hug. Ben froze, not expecting such a gesture, but then the suppleness and warmth of Kenzie seeped into his soul, and Ben’s arms encircled her back, pulling her close.
She smelt of rosemary, delicate and sweet.
“Thank you for saving me today. I’ll be forever grateful, and I promise, if I can ever return the favor, I shall.” She looked up at him, her eyes fierce with promise. “I will save your life if it’s in my power to do so.”
A cold shiver ran down his spine, and he pulled away, laughing a little to hide his unease. The lass’s words sounded more like a premonition than a promise. “You dinna need to make such promises. From what Gwen’s told me, you’ve already saved my life, and so I think that makes us even, yes? And as a man of honor, I’ll always protect those in my care.”
“Even so, as my thanks, it’s my promise.”
Kenzie yawned, and he helped her get back into bed. Ben blew out the candle and stoked her fire before leaving her room. His steps slowed as he walked to his own chamber, his mind on the men who had attacked them. Who had they been? If Kenzie didn’t have cause for concern, then their words on the cliff today were true…
Someone wanted him dead, so much so that money had been offered in exchange for his life.
It wouldn’t be the first time such a bounty had been offered…but still, since his marriage, he’d not sought out conflict. If anything, he’d become a man who looked for ways other than using his sword to stop conflict. ’Twas not right that he’d be targeted now, years after his last melee with a rival clan.
He must return home, and as soon as possible. His son could be their next target, and should anything happen to Alasdair, he’d never forgive himself, nor could he live with such grief. It was time to return to Castle Ross and be the laird he’d been born to be.