Chapter Six
A few days later, Kenzie strode into the Great Hall and found all the tables and chairs set to the side of the room, servants busy laying out platters of food, while others arranged pretty flowers atop the tables.
“Is something happening, Gwen?” Kenzie asked, coming up to her ancestor and helping her push a table to the side.
“Aye, a wedding. My maid, who’s been with me since we were both girls, is getting married today. I canna believe we’ll both be married and soon, no doubt, Gracie will be with a child of her own. I’m very happy for her.”
“You sound it.” Kenzie looked about the room, the smell of pine permeating the air. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“I think we’re almost ready, lass, but we’re about to walk to the church, if ye wanted to join us. We’ll be having the small celebration here afterwards.”
“I’d love to come. I’ve never seen a medieval wedding before.”
Gwen stopped what she was doing and met her gaze. “Is that what they call this time?”
“Yes. Well, we have a few names for the past. Viking age, the Middle Ages, which in the beginning is also known as the Dark Ages, then there’s the Renaissance, and then we had the Early Modern period, such as the Golden Age, Elizabethan, and Jacobean.
“This is fascinating. Were there more?” Gwen leaned on the table, her attention riveted on Kenzie.
“Yes, then came the Georgian and Regency, Napoleonic and Victorian times, and the Industrial Revolution. I live in the post-Cold War era, which is the time after 1991.”
Gwen shook her head, her eyes alight with awe. “I had no idea. How wonderful to know such things.” She turned back to her work. “It makes me quite jealous.”
“May I ask you something, Gwen? It’s a question that has been plaguing me for some time…ever since I helped Abby go back in time.”
“Of course.” Gwen called a servant to take over what she was doing and walked Kenzie to the fire, where they could talk in reasonable privacy. “What’s troubling ye?”
“When Abby arrived at Castle Druiminn she mentioned that you were able to see the future, and that was how you decided that she would be perfect for your brother.”
Gwen smiled. “I do have the ‘sight,’ which is what I call it, and as much as it vexed my brother at the time, I knew the moment I saw Abby that she was made for him, but she just happened to be born in the wrong time.”
Kenzie sighed, remembering how heartbroken Abby had been that she’d never see the love of her life again. How wonderful to be so in love, to crave someone with every ounce of your being and give up everything to be with him forever. “Did you have to learn the sight, or did it come naturally to ye?”
“Ah, I see, you wish to learn more of what ye can do? Is that what ye’re asking me, lass?”
“I am, I suppose.” She bit her lip, wondering how to ask her next question and afraid of the answer at the same time. “Do ye use your abilities to tweak the future?”
“That’s forbidden, my dear. An unwritten rule, if you will. I used my sight to simply offer someone a chance for a different path than the one they were walking. I’ve never used my ability to see what was to come and then try and alter my life to cheat destiny. Some things, my dear, are best left to fate.”
“I understand,” Kenzie said, as she heard male voices entering the hall. Braxton strode into the room, along with Ben who had young Madeline on his shoulders. He threw the little girl up in the air as he got her down. Her tinkling laugh filled the room before she ran off toward Nurse. Both men stood before the fire at the opposite end of the room, their backs to them, seemingly unaware of their presence.
“I can see by ye study of the laird that ye are interested in Ben.” Gwen took Kenzie’s hand, it was warm and comforting. “Ye can tell me, lass. I won’t judge ye.”
“I do like him, but not in the way you may think.” Kenzie met Gwen’s gaze. “I think I judged him too harshly when we first met. I should’ve trusted your opinion of him and seen past my annoyance at a man who was not only drunk, but extremely ill.”
Gwen laughed. “Aye, he was that, but Ben has always been a rascal.” She squeezed her hand and headed back toward the servants. “But if you like him more than you are admitting, that would be fine, too, my dear. Your life is your own.”
Kenzie looked back to where Ben was standing. A shiver stole through her when their gazes locked. The pit of her stomach twisted in the most delightful way, and she swallowed, unable to look away. He was dressed in dark trews and jacket, an emerald green waistcoat that was done up to the base of his neck. Both the men had mud splattered on their lower legs, having been riding—probably looking for more outlaws such as had tried to kill them last week.
Gwen shrieked and strode quickly over to them “What are ye doing! Ye need to go change. Now. The wedding is about to start and ye’re as dirty as pigs in a sty.”
Kenzie chuckled as both men, shamefaced, headed toward the stairs to change. Kenzie followed Gwen outside and looked around while waiting. The front of the house was riddled with cart tracks that had marked the muddy ground. In the distance, Kenzie could see the small square church that looked much like a house, the only feature indicating that it was a house of God, and not a barn or outbuilding, was the steeple on its roof.
The building certainly wasn’t standing in her time, so at some point it must’ve burned or fallen down. She would look into that when she returned home.
Two very large trees stood by the road that led away from the house, and Kenzie wondered when they had been cut down, as they hadn’t survived the passing of time either. The stable looked reasonably similar, although the thatched roof was now slate tile. Kenzie headed across the yard and noted where the vegetable garden was situated was lawn in the twenty-first century and housed a pretty little rose arbor that looked over the sea.
“The house is different, is it not? Tell me about it.”
Kenzie jumped a little at Ben’s deep baritone. She’d not heard him sneak up on her and it only enforced that she was really quite vulnerable in this time. She had no fighting skills, no ability to get away or idea of where she was going. The forest around the estate was a lot denser than she was used to, and overall, everything was just…different. It was any wonder Gwen had asked her to keep close by and do as they said at all times.
“Some things are different, like trees, plants, and roads, but otherwise, it’s eerily similar. At times, I feel like someone’s hired my house, and I’ve stepped on to their movie set.”
Ben frowned. “I dinna understand yer meaning, lass.” He clasped her hand and wrapped it about his arm before leading her toward the church. “But tell me about it.”
“In my time, there are things called movies. If they were making a movie here, it would be an historical film. You know what actors on a stage do, right? Well, think about what they do on stage, but their actions and words are captured in a way to view at a later time or place. That’s what a movie is.” Kenzie laughed at Ben’s blank stare. “Oh my gosh, I can see you have no idea what I just said, explaining what a movie is, is extremely hard.”
He smiled. “I think this movie that ye talk of will have to remain one of life’s mysteries.”
The thought of mysteries reminded Kenzie of Ben’s demise in only a few months. She bit her lip, hating the fact that she held such knowledge. Gwen was right, sometimes things were best left to fate. “You asked me after our attack if I had any enemies, but I want to discuss further if you do. Have you had a chance to think over who may have wanted you dead.”
“I have enemies.” he stated matter of factly. “Aye, lass, too many to count, but to attack me in the way in which those men did was foolhardy. They were not an organized, well-trained army, but men desperate for coin. We have not yet heard back from the McDonnels, but I dinna believe the men to be of that clan. I have sent out word to the few clans I trust to let me know should they hear of anyone who wishes me or mine harm. Whoever my current enemy is, I shall know it soon enough.”
“So, you don’t know of anyone who wishes you harm? There must be someone or those men wouldn’t have said what they did.”
Ben pulled her to a stop, turning Kenzie to look at him. She had to tilt her neck to meet his gaze. His lack of care in finding out who wanted him dead wasn’t helpful. Since he’d returned to health, and their conversations had increased, Kenzie liked him a little more each day, and hated the thought of his impending demise.
“Since none of the men who attacked us will be returning to their hired foe, I foresee no immediate danger. I will continue to kill anyone who wishes me harm until my foe comes to finish the job himself. I just hope it is a worthy battle.”
“Are you not scared of dying? I’m terrified of it.” Just the thought of a sword cutting in her two was enough to send Kenzie into a cold sweat. And after the ferocious, blood-thirsty bastards who had come after them the other day, it had proven to her that this time was dangerous, fierce, and for the most part, lawless.
They walked on, and she ignored the visceral reaction that occurred whenever he pulled her close or touched her in some small way. “Death is a part of life and we all shall meet that fate. I have no fear of what is to come. I assume it will be something like sleep, but permanent.” He grinned.
Kenzie chuckled at the use of his words. “I imagine you’re right, which, when you state it as such, isn’t so scary at all. We sleep every night and are not afraid of that.”
“Do ye sleep at night when ye go to bed? If ye state ye do, it shall ruin the fantasy I have of ye when ye go to your room.”
Kenzie smacked his arm, laughing. “Do not start flirting with me, Laird Ross. You’ll get nowhere fast.”
“Really.” It wasn’t a question, and Kenzie ignored the fact that he was staring at her. “I beg to differ,” he said, after a time.
Wow. Wow. Wow. “I’m not attracted to you in that way, and I’m only starting to like you. Do not push our friendship.” Liar.
Many nights she’d lain awake, wanting him with a fierceness that was maddening. It was the oddest thing, since she didn’t really know the man, but then, for women in her time, it wasn’t so out of the ordinary to act upon desire. The thought of his hands caressing her skin, clasping her hips, or holding her face in his palms as he kissed her, drove her mad. Kenzie had finally accepted that she wanted him. Wanted to sample his fine body before she went home.
“I would lay good money down that you, my sweet Kenzie, are lying your delectable undergarments off. Should I pull ye behind those trees just beside the church and kiss ye senseless, this denied attraction ye boast about would crumble like chalk.”
Never before had Kenzie been in a situation where she wanted a man to do exactly as he was threatening, while also praying he would not. Should Ben kiss her, even chastely, it would be hard to halt what she desperately desired. But she wasn’t staying in this time and this man beside her only had months to live. If she couldn’t stop his death, there was no future here. None.
“I don’t give you leave to kiss me and as a gentleman I know you’ll honor my wishes.”
“I’m no gentleman.” His whispered words against her ear sent butterflies to take flight in her stomach. Damn it. Damn everything. Why did this man have to be so intoxicating? Why couldn’t he have stayed the barbarian who only saw her as a piece of meat who could give him pleasure? If only he’d go back to that obnoxious being, her denial of him would be a lot easier. Not this man, a man who appreciated a joke or lighthearted tease. One of the most attractive features any man could have was a sense of humor, and to find the big, bad Black Ben had one wasn’t something Kenzie had expected.
“Yes, you are,” she said, calling his bluff and pulling him toward the church. “Or you would’ve done it already.”
“Now ye really are poking a lion, lass.”
They came up to the small, rectangular church that sported dirt floors and coarse, wooden pews. The alter was stone; no ornate marble or granite sat at the head of the church, just candles to light the space.
Kenzie found Gwen and sat beside her, noting that Ben sat on the pew behind them. A kitchen maid sat beside Ben with more excitement than Kenzie wanted to see. The girl’s chatter as they waited for the bride and groom bordered on pathetic, and Kenzie focused on the priest instead of musing over why a woman talking to Ben aggravated her so much. Oh, who am I kidding? It is bloody obvious why I don’t want anyone talking to Ben. I want him all for myself.
“Remember, my dear, your life is your own.”
“What do you mean by that?” Gwen threw her a knowing look and Kenzie narrowed her eyes, not liking her ancestor’s insight. It was bad enough that Kenzie even liked a man born hundreds of years before her, without it being obvious to others.
“Like I said, if ye like him, ye shouldn’t let time or place play a role in that. What’s life if it’s not to be enjoyed?”
“And you think I would enjoy him?”
Gwen laughed. “Yes, very much so.”
Thankfully, the bride and groom arrived and saved Kenzie from any further uncomfortable conversation with Gwen. The woman’s words had scorched her cheeks. Disregarding how red her face must be, she turned with the congregation to watch the couple walk toward the priest. The bride wore a blue gown that would’ve been unremarkable had it not been cut to flatter the woman’s figure, which made it very pretty. Her groom wore the Macleod tartan and clean shirt, making him look very respectable and handsome. They were a striking pair and, based on the sweet looks they were giving each other, very much in love.
The service wasn’t as long as some of the weddings Kenzie had been to before. The priest said some words in Gaelic that she couldn’t understand, followed by a piece of tartan being wrapped about the couple’s hands, tying them together in union, and they kissed to seal their fate.
A little while later, in the great hall, Kenzie listened to a band of musicians playing a harp and fiddle. The music was lively, practically begging celebrants to get up and dance. The happy couple, too, took part in the festivities, and Kenzie noted that most of the people present were house servants and yard staff.
All seemed to be enjoy drinking, dancing with each other, and laughing at inane jokes and stories. Laughter, above all else, rang through the hall and it was lovely.
“Are ye enjoying yourself, lass? Ye seem quite taken with our celebration of the holy sanctimony that ye call marriage.”
“It’s a great party and the couple look so in love. I should imagine there are a lot of marriages that aren’t as lucky.”
“Ye’re right about that.” The somber tone of Ben’s reply gave Kenzie pause. Had his marriage been an unhappy one? She thought not, but maybe she was wrong. Kenzie understood what it was like to be a child of an unhappy marriage, and it was certainly worse if you were stuck in an unhappy union and unable to get out.
Ben sipped from his wine, his eyes no longer as clear and bright as they usually were. The party had been going on for some hours now, and it seemed as if he was enjoying himself a little too much now that he was almost back to full health.
“I understand you were married. Will you tell me a little about her? Only if you wish to, of course.” For weeks, Kenzie had wanted to know who Ben had married. What had this mysterious Aline been like? Was she nice? Beautiful? Tall or short? And how had she managed to get this big, hulking Scot to succumb to vows?
Ben’s attention didn’t waver from the dancing couples before them. He was quiet for so long that Kenzie wondered if he was going to answer, when he said, “What’s to say, other than the lass married me under false pretenses, and I ruined her life.”
Kenzie coughed, stunned. Not entirely, anyway. “She bore you a child. I’m sure Aline didn’t think that you ruined her life.” And to Kenzie, now that she’d come to know Ben a little, she couldn’t find much not to like. He was strong, loyal, cared for those around him…
“When ye friend Abby came back, Aedan was engaged to Aline. I tricked the lass into running away with me. To marry me under the pretense that I loved her and that she’d be happier and better off at Castle Ross.”
“Did you come to love her?” Kenzie asked, unsure why his answer was important to her. Couples married all the time under the guise of affection, and although it may not be present when the vows were first spoken, it didn’t mean that they weren’t present at all during the union. Love could grow, blossom out of the most unstable foundation.
“Aye, I cared for her a great deal and she, too, me. And then she died.”
“I’m sure…I’m certain she wouldn’t hold a grudge toward you for her death. You cannot think that she does.”
“Aye, ’tis exactly what I think, and it’s something that I have to live with each and every day.”
Ben walked off, leaving her to watch the dancing couples alone. He headed toward the stairs at the opposite end of the hall. She sighed, feeling for the man. Maybe her asking about his past had been wrong. Aline’s death and speaking of their time together was still too raw for the laird to face, which was understandable. His wife hadn’t been gone a year.
The night wore on and Kenzie left the celebration to continue without her. Some guests lay strewn across the floor beside the hall fires, while others drank at tables and laughed about numerous tales and adventures. Bidding Gwen and Braxton good night, Kenzie headed upstairs.
The sound of giggling coming from the first-floor landing made her pause. She continued on slowly, hoping she wasn’t about to walk in on a couple enjoying the dark solitude the floor granted and came face-to-face with Ben. He sat in a window alcove, the silver light of the moon kissing his bare chest while the maid she’d seen earlier at the church petted and giggled into his neck.
Kenzie stopped short, and she shut her mouth with a snap, hoping like hell that what her eyes were seeing wasn’t actually happening. And to think she’d been sorry for the man. She shook her head. What an idiot she was.
They finally noticed her presence. The smug glance from the giggling maid made Kenzie’s blood boil. “Apologies for interrupting. I’ll just continue on and leave you to it, shall I.” She threw Ben a scathing glance and received one in return. How dare he be annoyed with her! She wasn’t the one who had recently been almost-crying about a dead wife and now found it appropriate to fornicate with a maid in a window.
Making her room, Kenzie slammed her door, a pathetic, youthful reaction that she regretted immediately. The last thing Kenzie wanted Ben to think was that she cared what he did. Who he slept with. Who he kissed. As far as she was concerned, he could do whatever he wanted. After all, he only had another six months to live, he best get as many lays in as possible.
Shame washed over her at such a thought, and she ripped off her dress, kicking it across the floor toward the wardrobe. She pulled on a clean tunic she slept in and stoked her fire.
Venting her frustrations out on the charred wood with the poker, she soon had the red coals licking the kindling. “Not bad for a city girl, if I do say so myself.”
The door to her room opened with such force the handle smashed into the wall before it slammed closed again.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing? Get out.” Kenzie didn’t move, but just turned back to the fire, looking anywhere but toward the door where the Scot she was determined to hate stood.
“I just thought since ye slammed ye door closed, I should slam the door open.”
“Oh, aren’t you the joker.” Kenzie turned to face Ben. His shirt was back on, well, gaping open at the neck and allowing her to see his nicely formed chest and his bulging muscles. Not to mention he’d rolled up his sleeves, and her first thought was, this man is aware of what he does to women, and he uses his prowess to his advantage. “But now you can leave. Like I asked.”
“Ye seemed a little upset, lass. I thought ’twas best that I checked on ye.”
“Upset?” She paused, crossing her arms over her chest. “Over what?”
“Me and the servant lass that ye walked in on.” He stalked toward her, and Kenzie had the overwhelming urge to run. Seeing him again only confirmed his words. Yes, she was angry and damn it, jealous as well. So jealous that a woman was enjoying him, laughing with him, touching him, and it wasn’t her.
“Whatever, Ben. I’m sure given the size of your ego, you wouldn’t believe my denial, so I won’t waste my breath.” The air in the room seemed to evaporate as he stood before her. She could smell the alcohol on his breath, but also something else simmering in his dark gaze. Desire.
“Do ye deny it?” He watched her, his gaze intent and full of promise. What the promise would comprise was anyone’s guess, but Kenzie had a fair idea what she wanted it to lead to. It wasn’t like she’d never kissed a man before, and this one certainly looked like he wanted to kiss her.
But should she allow such intimacy? She wasn’t staying, and he was doomed to die if she couldn’t change history. Any emotional connection she could form toward this man would only end in pain and heartache. A kiss just wasn’t worth the angst. Not to mention, she’d just caught him in the arms of another woman. She wasn’t that desperate.
“Did ye enjoy your servant?” Kenzie said, mocking him with his Scottish brogue. Unfortunately, her attempt at a Scottish accent only seemed to please him.
“Not as much as I enjoyed ye voice just then.” He reached out and clasped her chin, lifting her face to look at him. “Ye’re so beautiful.”
The butterflies in Kenzie’s stomach went into overdrive, and she took a calming breath. “Your flattery will get you nowhere. And you’re drunk, so nothing you say can be held as truth.”
“Och, but this might.” Like a moth to a flame, Kenzie couldn’t pull away as she watched Ben lower his lips to hers.
This is bad. Very, very bad. I should stop him…
“Oh my. Apologies. Had I known you had company I would never have burst in so.”
Kenzie jumped back and tripped over the chair behind her, landing with a thump on her ass. The heat on her cheeks burned hotter than the flames behind her, and she couldn’t meet Gwen’s eyes. “No, I apologize. I’m not sure what I was doing actually…”
“Well, I could tell ye what you were about to do, if ye were confused.” Ben threw her a cocky grin and walked to the door. “Pleasant dreams, lass,” he said, closing the door behind him.
Kenzie bit her lip, knowing only too well her dreams wouldn’t be pleasant but frustrating instead. “I’m so sorry, Gwen. I’m not sure what came over me. I have no idea what the hell I was thinking.”
“The Laird of Ross looked like he was about to kiss ye, my dear. Care to tell me what’s happening between the pair of ye?” Gwen helped Kenzie to stand and then sat in one of the chairs before the hearth, gesturing for Kenzie to do the same.
She did, sitting and staring at the flames, anywhere other than Gwen. “It’s my fault. I got jealous seeing Ben with another woman.” She sighed, flopping back into her chair. “How ludicrous is that? Anyone would think I was a child the way I’m acting.”
“I know ye are not a child, lass.”
“I’m a woman who runs her own business,” she said. “This very house is rented out for weddings and events. And a bed and breakfast for those who wish to sleep within its walls. I allow people to come through here and see the wonderful history it holds. I’m about to expand my holdings and commence restoration of an estate south of here and do the same thing. I’m not a child, but the way I reacted in seeing Ben with that servant made me want to throw a tantrum like a spoiled little brat who didn’t get her own way.”
“Ben was doing what?” Gwen asked, her eyes wide with shock.
“They weren’t doing anything truly scandalous,” Kenzie said quickly, to dispel her ancestor’s horror, “but he did have a maid sitting on his lap and seemed to be enjoying being a typical male.”
Gwen’s eyes narrowed, but other than that, Kenzie found it hard to read the woman and what she thought of what the Laird of Ross was up to under her roof.
“I can see how the rascal can get under ye skin. He truly is a sweet man beneath all that armor he wears. And when you see the real Ben, there are few who wouldn’t be persuaded to fall for his spell.”
“You didn’t.” The words blurted from Kenzie, and in some small way, she supposed she wanted to know more about them, what had happened that stopped a marriage between the pair.
“I came to realize my feelings for Ben were only mediocre, at best. He was like a brother to me, a friend.” Gwen stared into the fire, lost in her own thoughts. “When I met Braxton, I knew my life would never be the same again. My heart stopped at the sight of him, and I realized it wouldn’t beat again until he was mine.”
Tears prickled Kenzie’s eyes at Gwen’s profession of love for husband. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything more beautiful in my life.”
“Well, I hope ye do, my dear, and from the man you choose to give your heart to.” Gwen leaned forward, suddenly serious. “Ye are to tell me if I need to prepare Braxton for an attachment between you and Ben.”
“Why would you need to prepare him? Does Braxton not like Ben?” Kenzie touched her temple, a little lightheaded at the thought that Ben was unwelcome here. Was there something Gwen wasn’t telling her? She’d thought they got along well. Was there some underlying jealousy on Braxton’s behalf in regard to Gwen?
“Och, he likes Ben well enough, but not enough for his descendant.” She smiled. “But if ye think a relationship with Ben would make ye happy, then we’ll support ye, for however long you’re here.”
“I only planned on staying a few months, and I’m not looking for a relationship with Ben. But there is something that I need to talk to you about, and I’m not sure how you’ll take it.” Most probably not well. With Ben being like a brother to Gwen, knowing what Kenzie was about to disclose would break her heart, if not send her into a panic. It wasn’t easy to say.
“You can tell me anything. I’ll never judge ye.”
“Even when what I’m about to tell you proves that I’ve been less than honest with you? And what I’m about to say will cause you worry, and that in itself is not something I ever want to do to you or Braxton.” And she didn’t. Even as short as her stay had been, she’d come to love her family as much as if she’d been born to them and known them her whole life.
“Now ye do have me worried. I suggest ye spit it out, lass.”
Kenzie searched for the right words to tell Gwen the truth. “There is another reason that I came back in time to see you. Of course, my main reason was to meet you and Braxton and, if you chose, to learn from you in regard to our mutual abilities.”
“And the second reason?”
“Well, that’s a little more complicated.” She took a deep breath and decided she would just say it and be done with it. “I’ve come back to try and find out who killed the Laird of Ross. Black Ben as you all know him.”
Gwen stood, her face ashen. “What are ye saying, lass. Ben is killed? And when? When is this to happen?”
“I’m sorry. I know this news is terrible and not something you wish to hear, but it’s the truth. It’s already written in history’s pages. Sometime this May, the laird meets his fate.”
“Well, we’ll just have to change the text on those pages.” Gwen paced to the bed and back, a deep frown line between her brows. “Tell me everything ye know of the situation. Mayhap I can help.”
Kenzie didn’t think the time appropriate to remind Gwen that they weren’t technically allowed to change the past, but she held her tongue. “History states there’s an ambush at Castle Ross that happens three months from now. There’s a battle of some kind—over what was never recorded, for I don’t believe people knew, and Ben is presumably killed. It’s one of Scotland’s unsolved mysteries. No one knows what happened to his lad after the altercation, either. The castle was burned to the ground and remains a ruin to this day. Well,” Kenzie said, correcting what she’d said, “in my time.” Kenzie hated seeing Gwen so rattled, but, if anyone could help her twist history, it was Gwen. “There are, of course, different scenarios about why it happened, but nothing has ever been proven.”
“What are the scenarios?”
“That out of the grief of losing his wife, he took his own life, and that of the child.” An awful thought that Kenzie didn’t even want to contemplate. And after meeting Ben, it was a scenario that she no longer believed happened. Ben, for all his scandalous traits, loved children from what she’d seen of him around the estate. The thought that he could harm his own child just wasn’t possible. It just wasn’t in him to do such a thing.
“No, I don’t believe that one,” Gwen said, pacing some more. “What else?”
“That he handed the child over to his wife’s family and disappeared. Burned down his estate to make it seem like he was murdered or had died during the fire. Left Scotland indefinitely.”
Gwen met her gaze. “And what do you think happened.”
Kenzie sat, having agonized over this very question for nigh on two years. “That he was murdered by his wife’s family, and the child taken to be raised under the tutelage of Clan Grant. That’s what I think happened, and I’ll know for sure by May.”
Gwen halted her pacing. “You are not going to Castle Ross with Ben. I forbid it. You could be killed and then what of our family? Our line will end with you. I can’t allow that to happen.”
It was a possibility that Kenzie had thought of herself. Of course, she had. This was medieval Scotland. Anything was possible, and death lurked around most corners, waiting for the unsuspecting to cloak its death shroud upon them. But she wouldn’t allow it to happen to her. There was one thing she had that no one else other than the woman standing before her had. Witchcraft.
“I can leave at a moment’s notice; disappear in a blink of an eye. Should I get into trouble, I promise you, Gwen, that I’ll leave. But I must know what happens to the renowned Black Ben. His story has fascinated me since I was a little girl. Did you know there’s a painting that hangs in this very house, of him? It was painted after he died, and so I always assumed you had it done as a way of remembering him.”
Gwen bit her lip. “I canna let ye go. It would be wrong of me to be so lax in your wellbeing. Had I known you were here as a means to solve or change an historical event. Something, lass, that we should not do, I might add, I would’ve sent ye home myself. In fact, I ought to do it now.”
“I’ll only come back,” Kenzie said, crossing her arms. “I need to know the truth, and I know it’s against the rules, but I will try and halt his demise if at all possible.”
“You care for him.”
It wasn’t a question, and Kenzie sighed. She’d not meant to care for the rough, bad-mouthed, Scottish heathen, but she did. Somewhere between vexing and teasing her mercilessly, he’d managed to spark a yearning in her that she’d never felt for anyone else. And no matter how much she might state otherwise, Kenzie was aware that should he kiss her, it would not end there…
Not that she was going to tell Gwen such a thing. Not yet, at least. “Everyone likes Black Ben, and although we didn’t get along at first, I can stomach him well enough. So, in a small way, I care for him, of course, but not in the way you may think.” Liar, liar, pants on fire! She did care for him, terribly so, to the point that it scared her. From the instant she’d seen his portrait, tall and strong, standing in a field of heather with a castle in the background, she’d wondered about the man. Who he was? What had he been like?
That he was easy on the eye didn’t hurt, either. Locks as dark as the night sky, and a small tilt of his lips that hinted at his mischievous character. She had been drawn to him immediately. And once she’d learned of the mystery surrounding his death, it had been almost an obsession of hers to find out what had happened to the Laird of Ross.
“Before you all hie off to Castle Ross and get yourselves killed, there is something we should try first. Mayhap, if we ask Ben to send for his son, just that small change in this time may alter what will take place in the future.”
It was something she’d not thought of and certainly something they ought to give a go. Hope burst through her at the thought and again she had to remind herself that Black Ben was a frenemy, nothing more. “That’s a fantastic idea. Do you think Ben will be willing to send for his son?”
At the sound of thunder, Gwen went to the window and looked out over the ocean and the impending storm. “I can ask. I’ll make up some excuse as to why we wish to meet his boy. He may refuse at first, but if I know Ben, and I do very well, he’ll continue to think of the proposal for some days afterward, and it is only then that he will decide yes or no to my request.”
Kenzie stood and came over to stand next to her ancestor. “You must do it tomorrow. No delaying. The sooner we remove his boy from that estate, the better.”
“I agree.” Gwen sighed. “History is written, Kenzie. It will be hard to change what is already inscribed in the pages of time. We may delay or alter Ben’s demise, but some way, somehow, his death will occur.”
Kenzie shivered. “You changed history by bringing Abby back in time and my sending her back kept her here. Why will this plan not work?”
“Because, Ben is from this time. This is his life, and it has already occurred, been lived. I brought Abby back and altered a life that was not complete.” Gwen frowned, taking her hand. “Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”
Kenzie nodded, unfortunately understanding only too well what Gwen meant. “Well, we have to alter history. It has to work. He has his boy who needs him, tenant families, and his clan that relies on him for their survival.” She walked over to the small table that held a jug and bowl along with a tumbler of mead and poured herself a cup. “We can try,” she said, taking a sip. “That’s all we can do and hope for the best.”
Gwen nodded. “Try we must and we’ll see. Now,” she said, walking to the bed and pulling down the top woolen blanket. “It’s late and ye should get some rest. We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow.”
Kenzie came over and hugged Gwen quickly. “Thank you for trying to help.”
“Always,” Gwen said, kissing Kenzie’s cheek before leaving.
She lay down under the fur blankets and pulled it up over her. The tapestries swayed a little with the drafts throughout the room, and she thought of Ben. No matter how annoying the man was, she cared for him, the small amount that it was, but nonetheless, she did, and she would hate for him to die so young.
No one deserved to be murdered, and when Kenzie had read of his disappearance it was what she’d always thought had happened to him. Foul play had occurred, and with any luck, their plan to bring Ben’s son to Gwen and Braxton’s estate might alter the past enough to ensure he survived.
And if that plan didn’t work, well, she would just have to think up another one.