An Original Sin (12 page)

Leith stared at the castle. This had stood on Scottish soil. It was a part of him, and the very stones spoke to him. If he could’ve embraced it, he would have.

“Well, now what?” Fortune sounded a little uncertain, and that somehow pleased him.

Even she felt the spirit, the essence of all those who’d walked this castle’s halls. Had he stood, three hundred years ago, gazing from its battlement? He closed his mind to the possibility.

“We’ll…” He paused as the massive front door slowly swung open.

Leith didn’t know what to expect, but the small woman who hurried out to greet them surprised him. Blade had
called her old, but her hair was…yellow. Not a gray strand showed anywhere. Dressed in a short skirt and some sort of jacket, she hardly looked the old crone of his imagination. She ignored Fortune as she stopped directly in front of Leith and stared.

He couldn’t hold his tongue. “ ’Tis amazing. Yer hair isna gray anywhere. Ye dinna look old, but Blade said ye were at least sixty-five.” He closed his eyes. God’s teeth, he must learn to guard his speech. Not everyone would be as accepting of his foolish words as was Blade.

He opened his eyes at her amused chuckle. “Old age will have to fight me for every wrinkle and gray hair. I don’t believe in growing old gracefully. Now let me look at you.” Her voice turned soft.

She reached up and touched the side of his face. “Yes, you look exactly like him. You look exactly like my Hugh.”

Leith almost squirmed at the sound of tears in her voice. He didn’t know how to react to women’s tears. He never had. Hugh had called him soft. He didn’t think it softness to hate seeing a woman unhappy.

She seemed hard-pressed to drag her gaze from Leith as she glanced at Fortune. “I’ve forgotten my manners. I’m Mary Campbell, and this is Tootsie.” She glanced down.

They all glanced down. Beside her sat the strangest animal Leith had ever seen. It resembled a cat, but looked like nothing more than a huge ball of white fur with a tiny pushed-in face dominated by round green eyes. Eyes that at the moment were fixed on Ganymede with a predatory gleam. Meanwhile Ganymede, he of the fearless heart, did his best to hide behind Fortune’s jean-clad legs. “What manner of cat is that?”

Mary cast him a puzzled look, then explained. “She’s a Persian. Hmm. Your cat seems shy. Is he fixed?”

Leith grinned. He could guess what
fixed
meant. “No, but mayhap we should think about it.”

He would swear that Ganymede winced. As a fellow male, he sympathized. Leith watched with interest as Tootsie edged toward Ganymede. Suddenly Ganymede bolted. He raced for the open door and disappeared into the castle with Tootsie in hot pursuit. Leith shook his head. He didn’t know if he blamed Ganymede. He might run if Tootsie chased him, too.

He glanced away from the castle to meet Mary’s concerned frown. “I’ll have to send someone after Tootsie. I’m not prepared for a litter of kittens.”

“I dinna think ye need worry overmuch. Ganymede doesna seem verra eager.” He dragged his thoughts from the cats. “Dinna mind my poor manners. This is Fortune, and I’m Leith Campbell.”

“Fortune. An unusual name. What’s your last name, dear?”

The silence stretched on a little too long until Leith spoke up. “Her last name is…Campbell. She’s my wife. We havena been married verra long, so she doesna always remember she’s a
Campbell
now.” He stared pointedly at Fortune.

Fortune glared back at him, but she said nothing.

“How nice. Why don’t you come inside and we’ll talk. I’m so excited. I can’t wait to tell you about Hugh.” She turned and led them into the castle.

“Why in heaven’s name did you lie about my name?” Fortune’s whisper spoke of future retribution.

“She seems a gentlewoman. She wouldna understand an unmarried woman traveling with a man. Besides, no Campbell would welcome a MacDonald.”

“You are incredibly old-fashioned.”

He saw by her eyes that she regretted her angry words, but she couldn’t recall them.

“I am. ’Tis something ye must accept. But dinna condemn me for not understanding yer ways when ye dinna
want to understand mine.” Her criticism hurt. He knew it shouldn’t. Nothing a MacDonald said should make any difference.

She sighed. “Fine. It won’t do any good arguing. You go with Mary while I make sure Ganymede’s okay. Tootsie looked sort of scary.”

He nodded. His words had angered Fortune, but he’d spoken only the truth. For the time he remained in this castle, he’d pretend she was a Campbell and not a cursed MacDonald. “Dinna get lost.”

She offered him a cool smile. “If I do, I’ll just ask a passing ghost for directions.”

“Have a care, lass, that the ghost isna me.”

She chose not to comment as she turned in the direction Ganymede had fled.

Inside the castle, he passed painting after painting of Scotland. Leith felt the yearning for the rugged beauty of his homeland rise in waves and wash over him. He had to believe he would once again roam his beloved Highlands or he would go mad.

But when he reached a hall with row after row of portraits, Leith knew he must stop. He walked over to stare at one in particular.

Mary Campbell stood beside him. “That’s Hugh Campbell, the ancestor of my Hugh. He was one of those who massacred the MacDonalds at Glencoe.” She spoke in an almost reverent whisper.

Leith could tell her that she need show no reverence for Hugh. The picture was of a younger Hugh, the brother Leith remembered from his youth, the one who’d laughed with him, who’d always had time for him. Hugh had done little laughing since Glencoe. The painting didn’t show the damage of too much drink, too much regret.

He followed Mary into a small, cozy room with a full-wall window that looked out over a tree-shaded garden.
The air was pleasantly cool and bright with sunshine. Looking around, he admitted that modern improvements had made this a great deal more comfortable than the original castle would have been.

“Have a seat.” Mary pointed to a wooden table placed near the window. “I’ll get you something to drink.”

He watched Mary leave the room as an exuberant Fortune entered. She held a disgruntled Tootsie in one arm. Throwing her other arm into the air, she spun in a circle. “You should see this place. I can’t believe it. A
real
castle!” She set the cat on the floor. Tootsie stalked over to the window and curled up in an offended ball.

Leith pulled his attention away from his thoughts of Hugh long enough to smile at her. “Ye mean there is something yer time doesna have?”

Fortune slanted him a thoughtful stare. “Well, we have castles, but—”

“I know, I know. They’re scientifically formulated to look like the real thing.” He sat down at the table and stared out at a lone yellow flower blooming near the window. Flowers looked the same everywhere, in every time. But he didn’t see heather in the garden, and he had to consider the idea that he might never see heather again. “Ye wouldna be verra excited about the real thing. In the winter the cold would seep through the crannies and chill ye to the bone. Ye’d have only a fire to keep ye warm. There wouldna be a fine bathroom, or kitchen wi’ all yer…appliances.”

“And yet you’d go back in a minute.” Her soft words stated what they both knew.

He stared at the yellow flower, felt its rightness in this garden. “Aye, I’d go back in a minute.” He turned to look at her. “ ’Tis my home; ’tis where I belong.”

She only nodded, and he sensed a sadness in her. Perhaps she thought of her own home. Though the home
she described had sounded bereft of love and emotion, she had her work. He frowned. Her work. He must remember to ask her about this making of men.

Fortune sat down beside him as Mary Campbell returned to the room with several drinks in her hands and a large book tucked under her arm.

“I brought along some pictures of Hugh when he was younger. He looked so much like you he could’ve been your brother.” She set the drinks down, then carefully placed the book on the table in front of Leith.

He studied the book for a long moment, not daring to look, not wanting to see. But as Mary’s expectant silence stretched on, he knew he couldn’t avoid it. Slowly, he opened the book and stared at…himself.

He wanted to slam the book shut and run from this place, this time. He didn’t understand—Lord, he didn’t understand anything that had happened to him!

“Let me see.” Fortune’s soft demand gave him the excuse to rid himself of the picture. He shoved it over to her.

“Amazing,” she said softly.

He wanted to shout,
Dinna ye see? Dinna ye understand? ’Tis because of this man I’m here and I dinna know why.

“Tell me about yourself, Leith.” Mary placed her hand over his where it lay clenched on the table. “Blade only said your name was Leith Campbell, you sounded like a Scot, and you looked exactly like my Hugh.” She smiled. “He rattled on about Tibet, but I couldn’t make sense of it, and it doesn’t matter anyway.”

He looked at her warily.
Be careful
, he warned himself.
Don’t say the wrong thing.
“There isna much to tell. Ye’re right; I do look like yer Hugh, but mayhap we’re distant relatives.”
More distant than ye’ll ever know.

“Let me tell you something about Hugh, about myself, so you don’t think I’m a crazy old lady.” She patted his hand once, then withdrew hers.

“Hugh spent his whole life studying Scottish history, particularly anything pertaining to the Glencoe massacre. It wasn’t the Campbells’ finest hour, but Hugh had to know about the original Hugh Campbell—what he thought, was he the monster some said.” She half closed her eyes, lost in her memories. “Up until the day he died, my Hugh was knee-deep in research. In fact, the night he was killed, he was hurrying home from Rice University with new information about a supposed brother the original Hugh Campbell had. He’d found the brother’s name—”

“ ’Twas Leith,” he murmured.

Mary’s gaze turned intent. “Yes, and I won’t ask just yet how you knew.” She stared down at her hand with its plain gold band on one finger. “He said he’d never rest easy until he knew if the brother took part in the killing—”

“He didna.” Leith’s reply was torn from an agony that would never heal, could only scab over, to be torn open again and again. “But he didna stop the killing either. And afterward, Hugh called him traitor to his clan. They didna speak again for eight years; then Leith…went away.”

“And never returned.” Mary’s face turned parchment white. Her hands trembled uncontrollably as she pushed the book out of her way. She leaned across the table, an expression of fearful urgency on her face. “How did you know that? Hugh had just made the discovery. He had the papers with him when…when…”

Never returned
. No, he wouldn’t believe that. Leith closed his eyes. He’d made a mistake. He’d let his emotions rule him once again, and he’d made a terrible mistake.

“Look at me, Leith Campbell.” Mary’s voice grew strong with a fierceness Leith couldn’t deny. He opened his eyes.

“No one in the entire academic world knew that. Only my Hugh. It was his great discovery. How did you know Leith Campbell’s part in the Glencoe massacre?”

He couldn’t lie to this woman if his life depended on it.

“Because I was there,” he whispered.

No! I’m not hearin’ this. See, I’m puttin’ my fingers in my ears so I don’t hear it. Rats. No fingers.

Tell me Leith didn’t blow his cover big-time.

I’m gettin’ too old for this job. I finally escape the lovin’ claws of Titillating Tootsie, and check in with Leith to find he’s put his Scottish foot in his Campbell mouth. You leave humans alone for even a minute and zap, it’s all over.

Of course, that’s why this whole thing’s such a challenge. You can’t predict what they’ll do.

OK, so once in a while they have a good moment. Like Leith makin’ sure I got something decent to eat. Hey, he owed me. If I hadn’t made my power dive off the Jockey shorts to stop the dirty thief tryin’ to steal their dough, Fortune would still be standin’ around wrapped in a curtain. Leith appreciates me. That’s why I chose him. He pays his debts. Just like me.

What can I say about Fortune? She’s a sweetheart. Last night I had the best sleep I’ve had in centuries. And how do you like the way I fixed it so she’d crawl into bed with Leith? Took me hours to round up those roaches-on-steroids. Wasted effort. Leith didn’t bite. Ask me if I’ll ever understand humans.

Hey, no sweat, I’m makin’ progress with those two. There’s something funny about this Mary Campbell deal, though. Things like that don’t fall into place without some outside help, and that outside help ain’t me. I wonder who—

Do I hear an ice-cream truck? Hmm. Let me just look out this window. Yep, that’s our friendly dumb-as-a-rock ice-cream jerk. Hey, he’s got a sense of humor. I like his choice of songs.
Something about me bein’ a hound dog. Should I take that personal? Think I’ll go out and investigate.

Fortune sat, unable to move, unable to tear her gaze from Leith. He’d been there, witnessed death at its most violent. For this moment in time, she shared his pain. Maybe this was the only way she would ever know such deep emotion—vicariously.

Vicariously
. It made her feel like an outsider, always looking in but never knowing the real thing. But did she really want the kind of soul-wrenching sorrow she saw in Leith’s eyes?

Fortune dragged her thoughts from the path they’d chosen. She didn’t have time for inner contemplation. She had to say something quickly before Mary Campbell decided they were crazy and threw them out on their collective bottoms. “I don’t think Leith meant he was actually
there
. He probably meant that he—”

“Be still, Fortune.” He didn’t even look at her.

Fortune stared at him openmouthed.
Be still
? Sure, he was stressed, but somebody had better say something soon to save this situation from disaster. She wondered how civilized mental institutions were in this time period.

Mary broke the silence with a heavy sigh, leaned back in her chair, and closed her eyes. Tears slipped from under her closed lids. “I believe you. Hugh always said I trusted too easily, but he never stopped me when I got a feeling here.” She tapped her heart. “I don’t know how, but I know why.” She opened eyes brilliant with tears to stare at Leith. “My Hugh was a good man, and the only thing he ever wanted in life was to write a true account of the Glencoe massacre.” She swiped at her eyes with one hand. “I prayed that…” She smiled through her tears. “Call me a foolish old woman, but I believe in miracles, and I believe a miracle brought you to me, Leith Campbell.”

Leith only nodded, and Fortune knew he was still back with the blood and death. Suddenly, she, who’d never nurtured a maternal bone in her body, wanted fiercely to protect him from further hurt. “I realize how much you want this, Mrs. Campbell, but I’m afraid Leith can’t—”

“Dinna speak for me, lass.” His harsh voice shocked her into silence.

Uh-oh
. She hoped he didn’t do something foolish, like agree to help Mary Campbell. He wouldn’t be here long enough to finish a book, and where would that leave Mary?

“I’ll help ye write yer book.” His expression spoke of how much it would hurt to relive those long-ago moments. Of course, they weren’t so long ago for Leith.

“Don’t you think you should consider this, Leith?” Fortune tried to sound calm, understanding.

“I must do this, Fortune. Dinna try to stop me.” He looked at her out of eyes that had seen horrors she couldn’t conceive, eyes that told her not to meddle in what she didn’t understand.

Mary leaned across the table to touch his hand, as though by touching him she could touch the past she yearned to know about. “Thank you, Leith Campbell, for making my husband’s dream a reality.” She stood and walked to the window. “Maybe someday you’ll tell me how this happened, but until then I’ll make sure you’re rewarded well for your time. Hugh’s study is comfortable and has a computer you can use.” She frowned. “But perhaps a computer will present a problem.”

“I’ll help him.” Fortune blinked. Had she said that?

Mary smiled. “Leith is lucky to have a wife like you.”

Wife
. The tingle of excitement surprised her.

The sound of footsteps interrupted her thoughts.

The man who walked into the room convinced her that if Leith was a tiger in the male gene pool, then
here was a pampered house cat—sleek, handsome, and civilized.

“Sorry I’m late, Aunt Mary, but I got involved in the Rowan account and lost track of time. You know how I love numbers. They’re always logical. Wish people could be that way.” He smiled at Fortune with boyish charm she didn’t need a history disk to interpret. “Oh, hi. I’m Michael.” He offered her one hand, using the other to smooth short brown hair that looked as if it had never been tousled by the wind or a woman’s fingers.

As she shook his hand, Fortune glanced at Leith’s shaggy mane. She knew which
she’d
rather run her fingers through.

Michael followed her gaze to Leith, then froze. “My God, you look just like Uncle Hugh.”

While he stared openmouthed at Leith, Fortune studied Michael. Shorter than Leith, with narrower shoulders, he still wore his suit well. No bulging muscles to get in the way. His even features were good-looking in an unremarkable way. She could bring him back to her time without causing riots.

Once again she glanced at Leith. Now
he’d
cause riots, even with his angry scowl.
Angry
?

Michael recovered, and his charming smile returned. “Sorry to stare. I’m Michael Campbell and you’re…?” He offered his hand.

Leith rose with a feral smile and clasped Michael’s hand. “Leith Campbell.”

Uh-oh
. For some reason, this had a bad feel to it.

Leith remained smiling as Michael’s face paled. Lord, she hoped Leith didn’t crush every bone in Michael’s fingers. When Leith finally released him, she breathed a sigh of relief.

Michael surreptitiously shook his hand to restore the blood flow, then cast Leith a puzzled stare. “Pleased to
meet you.” His expression said
pleased
didn’t exactly describe his feelings.

Here was the perfect man to take back with her. Logical, neat, nonviolent, and nonthreatening, he’d fit well into her society. She frowned. So what was the problem?

For one, she hadn’t found Michael in bed with her, so cosmic forces didn’t want him. She watched Leith glaring at Michael. For another…She couldn’t think of another. Michael had no faults, unlike someone else she knew. He’d be the logical choice. And absolutely no temptation at all.

Mary stepped between the two men. “This is Leith and Fortune Campbell, Michael. Leith is an expert on the Glencoe massacre. He’s going to complete Hugh’s book.”

Fortune could see the swirling questions in Michael’s gaze, but once again he was too polite to question his aunt in front of her guests. Why hadn’t the cosmic forces chosen Michael? He was so civilized he’d need almost no sensitivity training.

Fortune sighed. She’d bet the cosmic forces were female.

Michael smiled, a sincere if shaky smile. “With your face, Leith, you have to be family. Campbells stick together. We’re having a party in two weeks, and I’d like you guys to come.”

Funny, but Leith’s face didn’t say
family
to Fortune. He looked like an angry Scottish warrior, and she couldn’t for the life of her figure out why he was so furious. She smiled at Michael. “A party sounds like fun. We’ll be there.”

Michael nodded. “I’ll talk to you later, Aunt Mary.” As he left the room, Leith’s glare followed him.

Fortune stood as Leith walked over to stand beside Mary.

“Would ye mind if I got something from yer garden?”

She didn’t wait for Mary’s reply. She’d had enough castle life for one day. Besides, darling Tootsie had disappeared, and Fortune wanted to make sure she hadn’t devoured Ganymede whole. “Would someone call Blade?” She let herself out the door.

Lost in thought, she’d almost reached the driveway before she realized what was happening. The now-familiar ice-cream man stood beside his truck, his loudspeaker blaring a tinny rendition of, “I Want You, I Need You, I Love You.” Fortune recognized the singer’s voice. Didn’t the driver ever try someone else?

Thoughts of the singer fled as Fortune glimpsed Gany-mede padding purposefully toward the truck. She drew in her breath with a sudden sense of danger. Not pausing to question the feeling, she began running. “Ganymede! Come here. Bad cat!”

The “bad cat” ignored her as he bore down on the truck.

Puffing, Fortune managed to cut Ganymede off. She scooped the growling cat off the ground, then turned to the man. “I don’t know why he’s so grouchy. He’s usually a friendly cat.”
Liar
. Ganymede might be many things, but friendly wasn’t one of them. She had the gut feeling Ganymede tolerated them, but was always working on his own agenda.

The man winked at her. “Maybe he doesn’t like Elvis.”

“Elvis?”

He nodded. “The King. Elvis Presley. That’s all I play on my loudspeaker. Didn’t you notice?”

She grinned. “I couldn’t help but notice. You keep popping up everywhere. Is this your normal route?”

“Occasionally.”

Fortune frowned. “You can’t sell much ice cream here.”

His eyes—what color
were
they?—sparkled with suppressed mirth. “You’d be surprised. I find customers in the strangest places.” He glanced at the still-growling
Ganymede. “And in the strangest company.” He offered her an ice-cream cup. “This one’s on me. It’ll help you cool off. You might want to share it with your furry friend. He needs some cooling down, too.”

Her furry friend growled his thoughts on the matter.

The man climbed into his truck. “Gotta go now. I have some other customers waiting. Take care, Fortune.”

He drove off, leaving Fortune to wonder how he knew her name. Absently, she dropped a still-grumbling Ganymede and pulled the top from her ice cream. She dove in, for the moment oblivious to the fat content. As the creamy vanilla ice cream melted in her mouth, she closed her eyes in ecstasy.
Heavenly
. Did this really taste so much better than what she was used to, or had her senses taken a hit when she bounced into this time?

Fortune had just scooped up the last spoonful when Leith emerged from the castle. He strode toward her—dark, dangerous. In her mind’s eye, she pictured him striding from the carnage of Glencoe. What had he thought with death surrounding him?

He stopped beside her, and she felt dwarfed by his size, his past. Bringing Leith back to her time would be like bringing a long-extinct tiger into a herd of sheep. But women would baa their fascination and still flock to him, to their doom. At least he would bring new life and vitality to a staleness she’d never realized existed before spending time here.

Bringing Leith back to my time.
She had to tell him. Even though Leith thought they might be sent back to their respective worlds at any time or place, Fortune still felt they should return to the rest-over for their best shot.

She was tempted to lure him to the rest-over with a lie, but when they both ended up in her time, she’d have to face him. And she hated lies. No matter how much easier
life would be if she didn’t tell Leith her plans, she couldn’t lie to him.

He’d need her help with the computer, so maybe he wouldn’t walk away when she told him. Then again, she was a MacDonald, and her plan would be exactly what he’d expect from a MacDonald. It didn’t matter. Tonight. She’d tell him tonight.

Leith had been strangely quiet as he stared out across Mary Campbell’s meticulously cared-for grounds. Finally he gazed down at her. “Ye like Michael, do ye not?”

Michael? What did Michael have to do with anything? “Yes, I suppose—”

“He would fit well in yer time.”

From his dark glance, she assumed the thought angered him.
Why?
“Yes, I guess he would. He’d give his off-spring logical minds and nonviolent behavior.” Warming up to her subject, she smiled at Leith. “He’d probably pass on his even features and—”

Leith looked like a man pushed to his limit. “To hell wi’ what he would give to his bairns. Could he give ye this?”

Her mouth was already a round
O
of surprise, so when Leith lowered his lips to hers, he found no resistance.

She didn’t even have the presence of mind to drop the ice-cream cup, now crushed between them.

This was no time for comparison shopping, but For-tune thought briefly that Michael’s kiss would be sugar water next to Leith’s—smooth rich vanilla, a thousand times sweeter than the ice cream she’d savored, and a whole lot hotter.

Hot
. Leith deepened the kiss, his tongue tangling with hers as he pulled her against his hard body. She couldn’t breathe, didn’t want to breathe if it meant ending the magic.

Hot
. Her heart raced, and if her mouth hadn’t been
fully engaged, she would’ve gasped for air as she had yesterday when she’d sampled Leith’s hot-and-spicy salsa. Leith and the salsa had a lot in common: an addictive taste that kept her coming back while at the same time flooding her body with liquid flame. Heat that refused to die. Heat that brought tears to her eyes.

Tears? Was she crazy? The same thought must have occurred to Leith, because he suddenly broke away with a muttered curse.