Binding Vows (14 page)

“You should sit.” He stood near her side, but did as she told him.

“You brought me to Medieval Scotland without my permission.”

“You told me you would return to my home.”

“Not to the sixteenth century!” she yelled.

“I didn’t have a choice.”

Angry hands trembled through Tara’s hair. “You always have a choice!”

Duncan put his hand out to touch her.

She flinched. “I told you, don’t touch me.”

“Tara, please. Try and understand...” He reached for her again.

She flung her hands toward him to push him away.

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He ducked to avoid the sparks shooting from her fingers. Behind him, the wicks on the candles of the chandelier burst into flames.

Gasping for breath and frantic, Tara looked from her hands to the lit candles, producing flickering shadows on the wall.

She felt the anger and the heat pulse from her hands. She’d lit the candles like he had lit the fireplace.

He was telling the truth. Everything he said was true. Tara was stuck in a time she knew nothing about, without her friends, family, or anything.

School would start next week without her.

Gone were her plans, her dreams.

Every possible emotion passed through her while Duncan stood, staring, his mind ever present inside hers. But when he reached to comfort her, she screamed in her head.

Stay away from me.

His hand halted midair, then fell to his side.

“And stay out of my mind.” She tried, unsuccessfully, to control her breathing.

“I don’t know if I can.”

“Try. You’ve taken everything from me. The least you can do is give me peace in my own mind.”

Tears welled in her eyes. Her pain was enormous.

“I’ll help you to your rooms and have one of the maids draw you a bath.”

She blinked up at him through her tears. “Why don’t you get one of the maids to show me the way?”

“I will show you.”

Tara sent him a deadly look. “It wasn’t a request.”

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A hole started to wear into the carpet thrown on the floor. No matter how many times Tara sat down, she couldn’t for more than a few minutes. It was a good thing the space was large and allowed her room to pace.

She heard the comings and goings of people beyond the door. When Duncan walked by, his thoughts were so loud she shouted at him, “Get the hell out.”

No one talked with her. Even the upstairs maid who brought in a tray of food said nothing. The poor woman kept her eyes on the floor when she entered the room. Tara did notice her look at her out of the corner of her eyes. Refusing to wear the dresses set out for her, Tara assumed the woman stared at her shorts and t-shirt.

Outside her room, Tara heard the maid talking with Lora. Their muffled voices of concern over what she was and wasn’t eating reached her ears.

Lora gave a stern warning that everything the maid saw behind Tara’s bedroom door should be kept secret.

Tara shook her head at their conversation, and continued to stew over what she would do about Duncan’s deceit.

****

“She didn’t give me a chance. Besides, she had 116

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all she could take in one sitting. Telling her we are bound together for eternity may have snapped her mind completely.”

“I’m still not sure why you went through with it.

How do you know if you will be compatible for this lifetime, let alone the next?” Fin enjoyed his women, but only one had gotten close enough for him to care for. He was never cruel to the many women who had been in his life, and when they parted ways he was always generous.

Duncan, however, was much more particular with his bedmates. Being the first born meant he shouldn’t spread his seed throughout the land like so many men in their time did. It also meant he needed to choose his bride wisely, to assure the next generation of MacCoinnich’s had a proper mother to raise them. Now his choice was made, even if the bride was oblivious to her new station in life.

Fin tossed his head and shrugged. “I don’t think I want to be around when you tell her what’s happened.”

“I’m not going to tell her.”

Fin dropped the stone to his lap, gave his brother his full attention. “What do you mean?”

“I’m keeping this information from her until we have had a chance to grow to know each other better.”

“You mean until you bed her.”

Duncan winced at how his brother’s words sounded. He wanted to deny them, but couldn’t.

“Aye.”

“Be careful, brother. Tara has already been deceived enough for one lifetime. Keeping this from her might be the cause of great misery for you both.”

“Telling her now would send her fleeing in the night.”

“If that is what worries you, then lock her in her rooms.”

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Duncan shook his head. “Have our trips to the future left no impression on your brain? If you bind women from her century, they will despise you for a lifetime. No one wants to feel trapped.”

“And you, brother, are daft if you don’t realize Tara is already trapped. Both of you are duly trapped.”

Still, Duncan wasn’t going to tell her anything about their binding vows. Instead, he would woo her like he’d been doing in her time.

Of course he would have to wait for her to stop yelling, and throwing things at the walls. He had to stop picturing the imaginative ways she conjured torturing him, even if it was only in her head, before he could implement his plan.

Unlike Fin, Duncan was a patient man. He would wait as long as it took for Tara to see they were meant to be together.

Just as he started to relax, a tremor of dread went through him. Duncan stood abruptly, startling his brother.

“What is it?” Fin jumped around to see what caused Duncan to move so quickly.

“Damn it,” Duncan cursed. Adding nothing in the way of an explanation, he ran out of the room at an alarming speed.

Not needing an invitation, Fin followed.

****

He’d lied. Over and over again, he had lied to her.

God he had made her want him. She desired him more than any other man she had ever dated.

Ever kissed.

Disgusted with the way her skin tingled thinking about being in his arms, Tara tossed a heavy tray at the wall.

Duncan had used her. What made him so different from the woman he called Grainna? Worse, 118

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Duncan had used her emotions and feelings, tossed them at her for his needs. Maybe that wasn’t a fair assessment of the situation, but Tara didn’t care.

She was hurt and angry. She hadn’t even begun to consider what life in his time would mean. She did realize she would never see Cassy or her sister and nephew again.

She yelled her frustration and noticed the heat of anger building all over again. With all that fury, the need to get outside overwhelmed her.

She grabbed her sweater off her bed and stormed out of her room. She didn’t notice her own strength when she slammed the solid wood door behind her and it bounced off the wall.

The hallway was clear. Not that it mattered.

She would likely punch anyone who blocked her path. She almost dared Duncan to get in her way.

She found the main hall where she had confronted Duncan and his parent’s only hours before. The massive double doors towering over fifteen feet tall had to be the way out of the house.

Not that the MacCoinnich’s residence resembled a mere home. The place was a friggin’ castle! One she might appreciate, if she was on tour in Scotland with a bunch of old people enjoying their retirement.

But no! She wasn’t on tour. That fact was confirmed further when she crossed over the front door threshold.

She stepped into a huge courtyard where several men dressed in armor and kilts all stopped participating in their daily chores to gawk at the new arrival. A few horses were tied to posts, while others had riders on their backs.

“Take a picture!” she yelled before storming past them all.

She had no idea where she was going. Sunlight pooled down on her from above, through another set of doors, looking very much like they belonged on the 119

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set of a movie.

The doors were large enough to allow six or seven men to move through, side by side on horseback. It was obviously the way in and therefore her ticket out.

She tossed her hair over a shoulder, sucked in a deep breath, and damn near ran to her freedom.

****

“Where?” He barked the question to all who stood staring.

Several men pointed in the direction of the gate.

He could hear her curses in his head and knew she hadn’t gotten very far.

Duncan held up a hand to his brother with an unspoken request to leave him alone.

He spotted her marching away and sighed in relief. He watched her for several minutes before shortening the distance between them.

Tara didn’t turn to look when he came up behind her. “Where are you going, Tara?”

“Out!”

“I can see that, but where?”

She stopped and turned. “Far away from you.”

He almost collided with her. But before he could react she was storming off again.

“A lady is not safe out here by herself.”

She stopped again. This time he didn’t stop in time and fell into her.

Hands at her sides, her chest thrust up next to his, she gritted the words between her teeth. “A lady isn’t safe around you, either.”

“Now, Tara.” He tried pleading with her.

“Oh don’t you even, ‘now, Tara’ me.” She stepped to the side and started off in a different direction.

Walking in circles.

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He let her walk for several minutes before attempting to talk to her again. “I would be happy to escort you on a walk. But we need to get you more properly dressed.” He knew the effect watching her walk was having on him. He could only imagine what his men must have thought when she had stormed the courtyard in her shorts.

“You’re a bastard, you know that MacCoinnich?”

He wanted to counter what she said but cautioned himself against it. “Still, we need you in more fitting clothes. If someone were to come along, questions would be raised which would be most difficult to answer.”

“You should have thought of that before you brought me here.” She waved a hand in his general direction. “Right now I don’t give a crap what questions
you
might have to answer.”

“I told you how necessary it is for secrecy.” He turned to the Keep and noticed some of the men watching to see what would happen. He needed to put a stop to this and soon.

“Bite me.”

A completely inappropriate image of him doing exactly that popped in his head. A slow lazy smile inched over his lips.

Unfortunately for him, Tara read his thoughts.

She didn’t find them nearly as entertaining as he did. “You ass...” She raised her hand to slap his face.

He caught her hand before it made contact. “I’ve had enough of this.”

Without warning and in complete disregard for what she might think, Duncan bent down and unceremoniously tossed Tara over his shoulder and started back to the Keep.

Once she caught her breath, and realized what he was doing, she started pounding on his back, demanding he let her down.

He ignored her every plea. Fin watched his 121

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brother approach and bit back the smirk on his lips.

“Let me down.”

Quiet, Tara.

Let me down, and I’ll be quiet.

He saw the image of her running away from him if he did as she asked. “I don’t think that would be wise.”

“Since when do you think?”

Duncan took the stares of his men and some of the jibes as he marched past them all. “Women,” was his only explanation.

Many laughed. Some rolled their eyes and went back to their tasks. Fin closed the doors to the Keep once Duncan had Tara inside.

He didn’t set her down until she was back in her room.

Her fury had calmed slightly, replaced by the humiliation of being carried around like a sack of potatoes. But she still dared him with her words.

“You have to sleep sometime. And when you do, I’ll make my way out of here, away from you.”

Her words sobered him, and the words of his brother rang in his ears. “You cannot leave. Maybe when you’ve calmed down, we can discuss the why, but right now you simply need to trust—”

“Trust? You want me to trust you?” She flopped down in a chair. “Ha.”

“I see you’re not ready to talk about this.”

“You think?”

Resigned with what he had to do in order to keep her there and safe, he walked to the door.

He glanced at her one last time before he left.

All she awarded him with was her profile.

Fin stood in the hall, smiled, and calmly handed Duncan a key.

The second they heard the loud noise of the lock sliding in place, they both learned how colorful Tara’s vocabulary could be.

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****

He sat staring into his cup, thankful that after two full days and nights, she had finally ceased crying. How many times had he stopped himself from going to her in that time? He couldn’t count.

The ale he drank wasn’t potent enough to drown out her pain, pain overwhelming him in waves. He knew every time she cursed his name in her head, felt every insult she threw his way.

But of late he hadn’t heard her voice. And that worried him more.

Every hour since their handfasting, he felt her more, sensing her every need. Even if the maid hadn’t reported her activities, he knew what she did.

He knew she refused to eat the meals he sent her, knew she existed on only a few hours sleep every night.