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Authors: Laura Hathaway

BOOK: A Highlander's Home
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Less than a half hour later, there was a rapping on the door followed by a small man with wild white hair wearing a long brown robe.  “My lady, you requested my services?” he asked in a deep voice that should have belonged to a much larger, robust man.

             
She nodded.  She briefly told him, with as few details as possible, that she had traveled a long distance and wanted reassurance from him that she was in good health.  After a short examination, he told her she was as fit as a horse.  His brown eyes that matched the dark hue of his robe
stared at her.  “My lady, from what land have you traveled?”

             
How could
she
answer that when she did not even know where her land was or where this land was?  She sighed.  “It is a long way from her, Doctor.”  She looked out the window.  “A lifetime away.”

             
He patted her head as if she were a child and suggested he escort her to the main hall where the evening meal would be served shortly.  She freshened up and followed him through the maze of hallways and corridors.  When they entered the great hall, all talking ceased
,
and she was suddenly the focal point of everyone. 
Again. 
There had to be over fifty people whose heads turned as she touched the landing.  She raised an eyebrow and squinted at the doctor who just smiled at her.

             
“My lady.”  A deep voice from the front of the room carried to her.  The Scotsman.  He spoke those words with a possessive air whenever they were directed at her
,
and it was beginning to wear on her nerves.

             
Chatter, although be it slow and soft, began again.  The doctor took her elbow and, again as if she were a child and could not find her way across the room, walked her over to the table where the Scotsman was sitting.  He
r
gaze never wavered
as she made her way towards him, although her palms were moist.

             
She was seated next to him in an elegantly carved chair with a red velvet covered cushion.  Although she felt quite dwarfed sitting in such a huge piece of furniture, his chair was even larger.  He somehow seemed to fit into quite nicely. 

             
The meal was served by a string of serving
women.  Pheasant, potatoes, fish, beef, and all manner of other things that she had never heard of were passed about the room.  It seemed as soon as she took a bite, it was replaced without her even seeing it done.

             
Leith was conversing with Robbie and several other men seated at
the
table but he was always aware of what his guest was doing.  She picked at her food, smelled some of it,
and tentatively
tasted this or that.  She was looking around the room as if she had never been on the inside of a castle at supper time.  “Is the meal to your liking, my lady?”

             
She barely glanced at him
, her attention on the plate in front of her
.  “I suppose.”  She frowned as a plate of fish with the head still on it staring at her made its way past her.

             
Her lack of gratitude was grating on his nerves.  He did not expect he
r to bow before him and sing his
praises, but a
her manners left much to be desired
  If she were to be his wife, he had better teach her he would not be taken advantage of. 

“Lady Brighton, perhaps you could be slightly more cordial to your host. 
Granted, we do not know each other very well, but if we are to be married then there should exist a certain amount of courtesy between us.”

             
His voice was
cold as was his gaze upon her. 

She blinked at him. 
“Raine.  My name is Raine
Carson
, not Lady Brighton.  And I do thank you for
intervening earlier today, but you have mistaken me for someone else.” 

He opened his mouth but she cut him off.  “And we are
not
getting married.”

             
His frown was long and deep.  She glanced at him sideways.  She had to set the record straight before things got out of hand.  When the real Lady Brighton showed up, all hell would break loose and then where would she be?  In a Scottish prison stuck in the year 1555. 

             
His smile was like ice.  “You have had a long day.  Let me escort you to your room,
my lady
.”  He practically ground out the last two words.

             
He grabbed her wrist and forced her to drop her silverware while practically dragging her off the
dais
.  A few of the men stopped eating long enough to watch their lord carry off his soon to be bride, but quickly returned to their meal.  They had heard about how he had found her running from his less than scrupulous cousin.  They also noticed that she spoke with a strange accent and preferred men’s clothing over that of the proper attire of a female.

             
Raine tried to get her footing but could barely keep up with this oversized Scot.  “Let me go, you brute!” 

He did not miss a step.  His grip was a little too firm, and she had a crazy thought.  What if he means to beat me? Or rape me?  Make peace with the man, Raine.  She swallowed.

“I’m sorry.”  He paused.

             
“Are
ye
now?”  His started down the corridor again but slowed his pace so she only had to jog to keep up with him.  At least she was on her own two feet again.

             
“Yes, and I truly do appreciate your help with the men who were chasing me.”  They reached a massive wooden door that had strange but beautiful
wood
workings on it.  A large, oversized canopy bed made out of the same dark wood as the door occupied the entire north section of the room. 
A table with two chairs was
in one corner and a large bureau was in the other.  The floor was covered in a dark red beautifully woven rug that must have cost a fortune.  Raine realized suddenly where she was.  His room. 
Oh, God, he does intend to rape me.
  She
pursed her lips and dug her hee
ls into the carpet. 
Not without a fight, he won’t!

             
He seemed to read her thoughts
and smiled quite devilishly
.  “Relax, mistress.  Only willing women are invited to my bed.”  The door closed with a dull thud.
 

             
She wanted to ask just how many women, but instead said,
“I should explain.  It is so hard to believe, I barely believe it myself
,
but it is true.  I am not who you think I am.  I am not from this
–”
she held her hands up “–
land, but I don

t kn
ow how I got here either
.” 

             
He sat on the bed and leaned back on one elbow.
  His eyes seemed to bore into her.
 
He decided to
humor
her. 

“I agree.  We should talk.  Already the servants are gossiping.  My mother will be here in a day or
two to begin the marriage prepa
rations as well and
,
though I love her
dearly
, she is prone to
gossiping as much as they are
.  So,” he said, “tell me why you were running away from my cousin
, lass
.”

             
She sighed with relief.  Better to start at the beginning.
  She walked to the window and stared out over the green rolling hills.  When she turned back to him, her breath caught.  He was still leaning back with his legs crossed at the ankles, his shirt slightly open, his hair tousled by the breeze from the window.  His eyes were so blue against his darkness and the wa
y he was watching her was just …
sexy.  She thought for a split second how soft his hair would be if she ran her fingers through it.

             
Raine had to give herself a slig
ht shake to keep her mind on the
task
at hand

This man had the power to throw her in the dungeon or possibly help her find a way back home. 

She started her story, staring more at her feet as she paced the room, trying to choose her words carefully so that he might be able to better associate this with his own understanding.  She told him of the stones in the middle of the open field, of the professor and his rambling that night about special words
, the blasting thunderstorm with its wild and wet sheets of rain, and eventually how she awoke within the confines of the camp belonging to his mean spirited cousin.

             
When
she had finished her explanation
, she was sitting in front of the window but no longer seeing the beauty of the Scottish countryside.  Rather, she stared into nothingness, speaking her thoughts aloud instead of actually
telling
a story.  She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and turned to look at him, still seated on the massive bed.

             
His brows were drawn together in consternation and he studied his fingernails.  He leaned forward.  “In your land, women are allowed to hold positions and earn money?”  She nodded.  “And this is considered respectable?”  She nodded again. 

             
Now he was the one who paced the room in thought.  “This professor,” he said.  He pinned her with a stare.  “He was your husband?” 

             
“No.”

             
“Your lover then?”

             
“No.”  Her voice rose an octave, showing her irritation.  She was trying to tell him her theory on possible time travel
,
and he was worried about her love life!

             
“Your fiancé? 
Your man?”  His frown deepened.  “No!”  She wanted to scream.  He must have sensed it, or maybe it was the sudden redness of her lovely cheeks that gave it away. 

             
“I am trying to tell you that I was standing in front of some st
range, oversized slabs of rocks
during a raging storm while my
friend
rambled on about magic and spells, and the next thing I knew I was
careening
through empty air and woke up cold, naked, and lying in the midst of a group of potential murderers!  And
all you are worried about is my relationship to the Professor
?!” 

She looked quite breath taking with her hands on her hips, chin out in defiance while her green eyes were bright with anger.  She looked like she could have set the devil himself on fire.  He might just keep her.  He smiled in spite of himself.

             
He did not know quite what to make of her tale other than that it was quite a tall one, but that she believed it to be tru
e. 
The stones, however, had piqued his interest. 
He would have to make mention of them to
Mac
, the local priest
and lifelong friend
.  He was always reading and playing with what he called, “experiments.”

             
Leith sighed and crossed his arms over his chest.  “Lass, do not get yerself worked into
lather
.  While I do not fully believe you, I believe that
you
believe you.  As long as you are a virgin when we wed, I do not mind that you had a male
friend.
” 

She opened her mouth to speak, or yell he thought, and wondered if he had ever seen a person purse their lips together so tight.  He held up his hand to silence her. 

“Now, lass.  I am not accusing ye of lying.  I just do not know what to make of it all.  I agree you are different and from a place not near here, but that is all.  Perhaps you are not my intended bride,” he leaned closer to her, “but until proven otherwise, that is what you are now and will remain until I am persuaded otherwise.
  Do ye ken?
” 

Chapter 4

             
Leith made his way slowly through the compound.  His brow was deeply furrowed
, his eyes
distant.  His people knew to avoid him when he had that look about him.  As he walked to the dwelling of the local priest, Father MacDonald, he mulled over the enticing, albeit strange, conversation he had had with his intended bride.  She seemed so earnest in her explanation to him that he had a difficult time discounting it.  But traveling to a different
century
?  Bah.  The next thing would be that people from her land could fly to the moon. 
Mac
might be able to help sort this out.

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