Timeless Mist (4 page)

Kris' eyes flew open. "I--my
name is..." she stopped. She could
not
tell this man who she
was
.
What would he do to her if he found out she
was
a Campbell? She shuddered at the thought. Could she give him her
màthair
's maiden name? She at
once nixed
that
idea. Without
a doubt,
that
would
raise even more questions. She could
n't
deal with
that
just
now, "my name is Kristianna." She whispered.

"Laird, she
has
a nasty bump on her
head," Elsbeth stopped Iain before he could open his mouth to question her
further, "and ye
have
already scared her witless. She needs to rest before ye question her any
further."

Iain started to argue then
stopped. "Aye, ye are probab
ly
right, Elsbeth." His gaze softened as he looked at the older woman, then
grew hard again as it swung back in Kris' direction. "I shall return later
for some answers." He strode to the door, but turned to give Kris one more
severe glance, then stomped from the room, slamm
ing
the door behind him.

Kris stared after him, bewildered
by his anger. She
was
the one who
had
the
right to be upset. She
wasn't
even sure where she
was
,
or who these people
were
.
If this
were
a
not
her of those weird
dreams, then she'd just as soon wake up. Even if she
had
to fall out of bed to do so. Anything had
to be better than this.

If she remembered correct
ly
from her research,
however, people in the Highlands did
n't
always take to strangers. They
were
a somewhat suspicious group. The MacGregor's in particular
had
good cause for just
distrust of strangers with all they'd been through for the past several hundred
years. Even so, there
was
still
that
th
ing
about Highland
hospitality wasn't there?

"There ye are now, lassie,
'tis
not
h
ing
to look so frightened
about. The laird's growl may seem fierce, but I've ne'er known him to bite, particular
ly
such a
pretty
lass as ye."

"I'm sure I must be a
mess." Kris glanced at her hands,
noting
the dirt under her f
ing
ernails
and the scrapes on her arms. "And I need to use the bathroom. Could you
show me where it is?"

"We
have
no bath
ing
chamber lass. The laird keeps promis
ing
us one, but he
has
nae
seen to it yet I'm afraid."

"Oh, I um, I need to relieve
myself. I need to use the uh, garderobe." She tried again.

"Oh, of course, how sil
ly
of me. Just wait here a
moment while I find someth
ing
for ye to cover yourself wi'. Then I shall show ye to the garderobe."

Kris smiled her thanks and sat on
the edge of the bed sw
inging
her legs. Thank goodness they had a garderobe. No way did she want to have to
use one of those nasty chamber pots. Although there was a privacy screen
leaning against the far wall so there was probably one somewhere in the room. The
wine helped settle her stomach, and calm the ache in her head somewhat. She let
her gaze wander around the room as she waited. There
was
no other door in the room except the one
Elsbeth
had
gone out. Odd.
Yesterday a door led to the private bathroom she'd requested when she'd put in
for the room. Now there
was
just a wall with a beautiful tapestry hang
ing
on it depict
ing
a
knight hold
ing
his
sword high, a slain dragon at his feet.

Elsbeth returned less than five
minutes later carry
ing
with her a long silk robe. "Here, lass, put this on and follow me."

Kris took the robe, thankful for
someth
ing
to cover her
almost
naked behind
and followed the older woman out into the hallway. Down the corridor, in a
small alcove, stood a rather plain look
ing
door. Kris swung it open and gaped in surprise. The garderobe
was
not
h
ing
more than a large closet with a raised platform
that
hugged the far wall, a hole in the middle.
That
was
supposed to serve
as a toilet she supposed. Beside it
were
petals and green hay. Well, I guess you had to make due with whatever was
handy.   

Whew, the smell reminded her of
the outhouse at her grandparent's camp in New Hampshire. She shuddered, took a
deep breath, finished what she
had
to do, and got out of there as quick as she could. When she emerged, she saw
Elsbeth stand
ing
against the far wall wait
ing
for her.

"Feel better, lass?" She
asked, a twinkle light
ing
her brown eyes.

"Oh yes, big-time."

Elsbeth gave her a funny look,
but Kris ignored it. She followed Elsbeth back to her room, where she used a
basin of water to
was
h
her hands and face.

"Back into
that
bed with ye now," Elsbeth
gent
ly
pushed Kris
into the lumpy mattress, "just ye lie back down here and get ye some more
rest. I shall return an hour or so with some
nice
broth for ye and some ointment for those cuts and scrapes ye
have
."

Kris did
n't
argue. Lay
ing
her head on the pillow, she closed her eyes. They snapped open again.

"Elsbeth?"

The woman stopped just as she
opened the door, "Aye?"

"Could you tell me what year
it is?" Kris asked half wish
ing
that
such an odd
question
hadn't
just
popped into her head. And she did
n't
like
the uneasy feel
ing
that
came along with the question. She
somehow knew
she wasn't
going to
like
the
answer, but after see
ing
Iain MacGregor up close and personal, she
had
to know.

Elsbeth brows drew together in
bafflement, than she shrugged, "'Tis the year of our Lord 1604, lass. Do ye
nay remember?"

Kris shook her head. She knew if
she tried to speak, she would scream. She lay back and closed her eyes. As soon
as she heard the door click shut, she jumped out of the bed and started pac
ing
the room, ignor
ing
the pound
ing
in her head.

This
was
not
possible. No, this
wasn't
happen
ing
. It
was
some kind of strange
dream. It
had
to be. It
could
n't
be what it
appeared to be.  She
wasn't
really
in the
seventeenth century. She could
n't
be. To travel through time
was
pure fantasy.

Sure, it happened in books, and
movies, but never in real life. She crossed to the window and gaze down toward
where the town
had
been yesterday. Today there stood a small village of
that
ched roof houses with little gardens to the
side of each. In the far distance, she could see the heather
that
dotted the hills along
with the sheep and cattle graz
ing
placid
ly
. She pressed
her forehead against the window, the cold class welcom
ing
against her flushed skin.

Was
it possible
that
she
wasn't
hav
ing
a
not
her bizarre dream?
That
all of this
was
really
happen
ing
?

It did
n't
have
that
dream-
like
quality to it at all. She
reached up a hand to feel the bump on the back of her head and winced in pain. Well,
the goose egg
was
real
enough. She looked at the scrapes on her hands; they
were
genuine as
were
the scratches on her legs and the small rip in her nightshirt.

She felt
like
Dorothy from the
Wizard of Oz
, on
ly
she
hadn't
landed over any
rainbow to find munchkins, the good witch, Glenda, or wicked witches with
monkey armies. She
had
landed over the rainbow to find a
very
real Iain MacGregor.

"Toto, I do
n't
think we're in Kansas
anymore." She giggled at her own quip then
had
to warn herself to be careful. She could easi
ly
tumble over the edge right into hysteria. She
had
to stay calm and think this through. There
had
to be some rational explanation. There
was
always a logical answer for e
very
th
ing
. What
that
explanation could be,
she
wasn't
sure, but
somehow she'd find it.

Somehow.

She turned from the window and
crawled back into the large bed, mak
ing
it crunch beneath her. She would rest some more, and hope the knock on her
skull
hadn't
caused a
concussion. She prayed
that
when she awoke again, she'd find this
had
all been a nightmare brought on by too much sun, or the bump on her head. Anyth
ing
except what it appeared
to be.

Chapter Four

Iain strode into the great Hall,
glanc
ing
about as he
crossed the room. "Where is Raibert?" He bellowed to those in the
Hall. Several heads came up, but the on
ly
response
was
a
collective shrug. Iain threw them a disgruntled look as he strode to the table.
"Someone find him," Iain roared, "now!"

"Ale," he grunted to a
small kitchen maid who appeared beside him with a plate of food. He sat down hard
in the Laird's chair and watched the people in the Hall scatter.

"Aye, Laird." She set
the food on the table and threw him a saucy smile before disappear
ing
into the kitchens. She
returned a few moments later with a bottle. Iain waited until she filled his
goblet then drained it in one long pull. He waved her away, and refilled the
goblet himself but on
ly
stared into its contents. He rubbed a hand over his face and thought about the
lass above stairs. Now he would
have
to take time to find where the lass
had
come from and send her home as soon as possible.

In the middle of plann
ing
a
not
her raid on the Campbell's to regain some of
his stolen cattle, he could afford little time to coddle some female from the
saints knew
where
. He
did
not
wish to
was
te the precious time he'd
need to discover who she
was
,
where she came from and send her back.

He sighed, his frustration
evident to anyone who cared to look. Damn K
ing
James and his idiotic edict! After the battle of Glenfruin, and the unfortunate
incident with the lads there, several of the widows from clan Colquhoun went to
the k
ing
just before
he'd left Scotland for England. Their complaint against the MacGregor's
had
resulted in the clan's
latest troubles.

The k
ing
had
proclaimed the name of MacGregor illegal. Be
ing
a MacGregor for the past several months could get a body killed. Of course, the
bloody Campbells
were
on
ly
too will
ing
to see to the carry
ing
out of this
proclamation.   

The ale he tried to swallow stuck
in his throat. The Campbell Laird, Archibald, the present Earl of Argyle, did
not
h
ing
to help the MacGregor's as he should
have, either
. Instead, he
used his position to take e
very
opportunity he could to stir up the members of the Clan MacGregor, tell
ing
tales of theft, kill
ing
s, and rapine in order to
exact vengeance on any and all he saw as his perceived enemy. Or any who
had
the temerity to issue a
complaint against him to the k
ing
.

In the process of all of this
revenge, the Earl sought to decimate the MacGregor's and claim the rest of
their lands. 'T
was
all
for greed and naught more.

Iain looked up as Raibert banged
into the great Hall. He motioned to his captain to join him.

"And how is our visitor this
fine morn?" Raibert asked as he helped himself to the ale.

"She saw me and
swooned," Iain ans
were
d,
his tone tense and clipped. He sensed the question
ing
stare of his friend. When Raibert threw
back his head and burst into laughter, Iain shot him a foul look. "I find
not
h
ing
to be so amused about."

"What did he do to frighten
her so?" Raibert gasped when he could speak between guffaws.

"I did
not
h
ing
!" Iain growled, which on
ly
caused Raibert to laugh
harder. "Will ye cease with your laughter?"

"Ye must've done someth
ing
." Raibert insisted,
as he wiped the tears of mirth from his face.

"I tell you, I did
not
h
ing
." Iain pinned his captain of the guard
with a dark look. "I simp
ly
asked her who she
was
.
She took one look at me, went as pale as one of Mol
ly
's fresh
ly
laundered sheets, and down she went."

"I cannae blame her. Just
one look at your fierce countenance would be enough to scare any lass to nigh to
death." Raibert nodded, even as a
not
her
chuckle escaped.

"Wheesht, I dinnae kill her,
ye wee fool, she mere
ly
fainted." Iain shot him a
not
her
glare.

"Did ye discover
not
h
ing
at all about where she came from or where
she may
have
been
travel
ing
too then?"
Raibert took a hearty gulp of his ale, look
ing
at Iain over the rim of his goblet.

"Nay," Iain paused a
moment, "ye said she carried some sort of bag with her?"

"Aye. I left it in my
màthair
's care."

Iain nodded. "I will
have
to speak with Elsie
about it then. There may be someth
ing
in it
that
will help
me discover who the lass might be, and what she
was
do
ing
in the woods in
the middle of the night."

"She gave you no' e'en a
hint of where she came from?"

"Nay, when she awoke from
her swoon, your
màthair
wouldnae let me question her, just shooed me from the room
like
an annoy
ing
lad. I could on
ly
get her first name,
Kristianna."

"No clan name?"

"Nay." Iain felt
Raibert's gaze again. "What?"

"She's verra bonny."

Iain shrugged, but refused to
comment.

"Do ye think she is a spy? Mayhap
for the Campbell's?"

Iain looked at Raibert, know
ing
the shock showed plain
on his face.

"'Tis possible the
Campbell's planted her in the woods to discover our plans and defenses or
mayhaps where we hide ourselves." Raibert raised a brow. "'Twould be
a good idea to find out exact
ly
how this lass came to be in our woods in the middle of the night, and
why."

"I
had
nae thought of it, but aye, I suppose she
could be a spy." He rose from the table, "it isnae as if it
has
nae happened
before," he grimaced. "If she proves false, she'll rue the day she
was
found when I'm through
with her."

"I did
n't
mean to put suspicions
in your head," Raibert put a hand on Iain's arm, "'tis on
ly
that
ye did wish to be reminded to be more wary
in the future. I find it odd
that
this lass just appeared from nowhere. Just because she is bonny does nay mean
she is deceitful or untrustworthy, though. Do
not
judge all women by
that
faithless, traitorous bitch ye
were
betrothed too.
Not
all
women are
like
her."

"'T
was
nay just one, and well ye know it. And 'tis
well rid of Isobel and her ilk I am. I need no more entanglements with women. I've
had
a bel
ly
full of them." He
finished his ale, "I think I shall speak to Elsbeth about
that
bag. And this lass
had
better hope I find no
evidence of betrayal."

No matter how attractive he found
her, he'd
have
no
trouble hang
ing
her.

That
thought made him stop in his tracks. He shook his head to clear it. Nay! He
would give no other woman the chance or the opportunity to betray him, no
matter how pleas
ing
she looked or how his gut clenched at the
very
thought of her dy
ing
at the end of a rope.

*          *          *

"
Has
Elsbeth been in here?" He asked the
Cook, a short, thin woman of indiscriminate age. Though she
was
a tiny th
ing
, she ruled her domain
with a
very
large roll
ing
pin and Iain often told
her so. She always
had
a ready smile for Iain, though, and most often a sweet or two as well.

"She just left, Laird,"
she did
n't
look up,
but continued to roll out her dough.

"Someth
ing
smells good," he
sniffed the air as he reached over her shoulder, to filch a piece of the fill
ing
for the meat pie.

Cook swatted his hand away, but
offered him an almost toothless grin just the same. He nodded his thanks and
left. If Elsie
wasn't
in the kitchens it could on
ly
mean one th
ing
, she
was
with his
màthair
. Which meant his
màthair
now knew about the
lass.

He raised his eyes heavenward. Could
anyth
ing
else happen
this day? He headed for the stairs in the East w
ing
of the keep where his
màthair
's
apartments
were
located. He would
have
to face her eventual
ly
.
It may as well be sooner rather than later.

He took the steps two at a time,
anxious to retrieve
that
sack and discover what it might contain. The sooner he got this lass back to
her clan, the better.

"
Màthair
," he called as he entered his
màthair
's spacious rooms
after a quick rap on the door.

"She's in her bath,
Iain." Elsbeth informed him, appear
ing
in the bedchamber doorway. "Ye will
have
to come back later."

Iain sent up a quick prayer of
thanks. "'Tis ye I wished to speak with first anyway, Elsie."

She grinned at his use of her
nickname.

"Raibert told me
that
the lass he found
wander
ing
about the
woods..."

"Kristianna."

"Aye, Kristianna," Iain
nodded, "she
had
a bag of some sort with her. Raibert retrieved it after he brought the lass,
ah, Kristianna here."

Elsbeth nodded, but did
not
rep
ly
.

"He said he gave it into
your care?" He fought the urge to lower his gaze from her keen, ever
observant eyes.

"Aye,
that
he did."

"I would
like
to know where it
is." Iain gave her his best Laird's stare to no avail. He never could
intimidate Elsbeth.

"Why?" Elsbeth put her
hands on her ample hips.

"I thought," Iain
cleared his throat and wondered to himself why she always made him feel
like
shuffl
ing
his feet
like
a wee lad, "mayhap
it would help us discover who she is and where she came from. There may be
someth
ing
in it
that
could help us return
her to her clan."

"Is
that
all ye wish to discover?" Elsbeth
raised a doubtful brow at him.

"Aye. What else would I want
with the lass's belong
ing
s?"

"Iain MacGregor, ye should
know by now
that
ye
cannae lie to me. Now tell me what it is you
really
wish to know."

"'Tis just what I said,
Elsie," he crossed his arms in front of his chest. "I must know what
clan she belongs to, whether they are allies or enemies. Then I must either
return her or ransom her, depend
ing
on which they are."

"I dinnae think I should
just hand it o'er to ye, Iain." She eyed him with skepticism but on
ly
shrugged. "'Tis nay
your property after all and women can be most put out when someone rifles
through their belong
ing
s
wi' out their permission. If ye wish to know its contents, why doonae ye just
ask Kristianna?" She turned away and began to tend the fire.

"I must know where she
belongs." Iain's sigh
was
heavy and resigned. He supposed he'd get
a
lot
farther if he told her his suspicions, otherwise he may never get
any information from her about
that
sack. She could be
very
stubborn and close-mouthed at times.

"Raibert suggested she may
be a spy for the Campbell's," he admitted in a low voice. "If she is,
the clan could be in some danger again this time from an attack. I cannae let
that
happen."

"And ye believed him?" Elsbeth
spun around so fast Iain thought she might fall on her face. Her wide grin
deepened into a burst of laughter. When she caught her breath, she stared at
him in disbelief for a moment.

"Bah!" She waved a
dismissive hand in his direction. "Raibert would think
that
cow in the field a spy
for the Campbell's if it came wander
ing
in of its own accord." She stared at the young Laird, brows raised and
wagged her f
ing
er in
his face, "and well ye know it."

"'Tis possible," Iain
insisted. He would never use a woman to find out information about his enemies,
they
were
too
unpredictable, but the Campbell's
had
done so once already. He would
n't
put it past them to try again. The Campbell's
had
no scruples and even less morals when it came to gain
ing
that
which they desired. And
that
which they desired now just happened to be anyth
ing
belong
ing
to the
MacGregors'.