Master of the Highlands Page 19


Ewen had dangled her in the lake. Rust-colored patches of dried blood speckled her clothes and she gulped back a wave of nausea at the realization that she had no idea who the blood had belonged to.


She heard a throaty chuckle behind her. “Stop your preening, lass. You’re as bonny as the morning. ”


So, sarcasm wasn ’t a modern invention after all. “I’m a mess. And I don’t preen. ”


“Sure you don ’t—no lass does, aye?” An accusatory grin flashed in his eyes .


“Let’s just be going, aye?” Lily huffed. She was in no mood this morning. This might be fun and games for him, but she was a rattled wreck. Plus she could really use a bathroom and wasn ’t quite sure how to broach that one with a seventeenth -century laird.


“As you say, Lil’. I imagine you’ll want to walk down by the loch first. There ’s a wee thicket to the side where you ’ll have a bit of privacy. ” He grinned again, damn him. Well, she was happy in this one instance that he read her mind before she had to figure out how to bring that one up herself.


“Thank you, ” she uttered, hoping that he ’d mistake the blush on her cheeks for the fresh morning air.


Making her way back up from the bank of the lake, Lily was deep in thought. What she wouldn ’t do for a small packet of Kleenex right about now. She desperately hoped that they didn’t have anything like poison ivy in Scotland, though she didn ’t know how she ’d recognize it—she had been a miserable Girl Scout. When she ’d failed to earn her cooking badge after the second try, she dropped out. And her most extensive experience camping in the great outdoors had been with a bunch of other girls in the troop leader’s backyard. When they needed to go, all they’d had to do was walk inside and use the bathroom.


“Lass, quiet!”


Oh no, Lily thought, here we go again. She didn’t understand why she was attracting so much drama of late—she led such a peacefully mundane life in California. Why was Ewen telling her to be quiet? She wasn ’t making a sound. “What? I didn’t say ”—


“Silence! Och, màrach, your big feet make a racket, ” he hissed.


Then Lily saw it. A wolf was stalking around the perimeter of their makeshift camp. Although she had seen copious photos in her time, she had never before seen a wolf up close. No picture could do such a magnificent creature justice. It was huge, but in a lanky sort of way, taller than your average dog, with thin, rangy legs. It had a feral energy, as if its long, lean muscles were tensed to strike at the slightest provocation. This animal looked considerably more menacing than any featured on the sort of save -the-wolf brochures that Lily was familiar with. Its fur was matted with a black fringe of dirt that soiled its white and gray coat. The mouth peeled into a snarl, black lips quivering almost imperceptibly to reveal glossy white fangs. It was a terrifyingly beautiful creature.


Ewen slowly unsheathed the dirk at his side.


“What are you doing? Wolves don’t hunt people —he won’t hurt us if we ”— “You ’ll hush or see us killed. “Ewen shot her a deadly glare.


“I don ’t know about your world, but we kill vermin like this in Scotland.”


Lily was appalled. “You’ll do no such thing! ” She stepped forward, but not quickly enough. In a single fluid motion,


Ewen dropped to one knee, grabbed a rock, and hit the animal just above the left eye. The creature looked at Ewen for a moment, blood trickling down its fur, then turned and ran whimpering back through the woods.


“How dare you?” Lily spun to face him. “You are sucha … a brute. These woods belong to him, not to us. Wolves don’t hurt people. In fact, there are NO documented cases of a wolf hurting a person. Maybe it was a female and she … she had pups or something that she was trying to protect … thank God you didn’t kill her!” In a visible attempt to rein in her temper, Lily added quietly, “You just can ’t do that. You can’t go around trying to kill things like that …”


“Och, I can’t?” Ewen asked with cocked brows. “Really lass, are you quite done?” His voice was measured and seemed all the more calm in contrast to Lily’s spluttering. “Contrary to your way of thinking, these are indeed my woods. Tell my crofters that the wolf poses no threat—to their land, to their stock, or to their very lives—and you can see how they treat that wee notion. ”


Ewen slowly examined the blade of his dirk then slipped it back into its sheath. “The wolf can change his coat but not his character, aye? Those who live with wolves learn to howl.”


“Fine. ” Lily promptly cut him off. “ Spare me the pithy sayings. Let’s just go. ”


Mumbling to herself, Lily added, “Some son of the hound you are. I bet you don ’t even like dogs. ”


Chapter 11


Every morning, in the moments just before she opened her eyes, Lily dreamt she would awake to find that she had somehow been magically transported back to her own time. Or, better yet, that it had all been just a dream. But she ’d been at the castle for days now, and her hopes dimmed with each passing hour. She ’d felt optimistic at the start—not only had she helped vanquish actual redcoats, Ewen had sent his uncle Donald out to locate the labyrinth, even though they’d searched for it after Robert ’s arrival and had never been able to find it. Lily was crestfallen when the gruff old man returned two nights later, still out of luck and surly from what he’d considered a fool’s errand.


Stretching, she felt the now-familiar scratch of the bed linens underneath her. She inhaled, and the smells of her seventeenth-century bedchamber filled her senses—the fur thrown over the bed for warmth, the remaining embers left in her fireplace, the general mustiness of the place. No, this was definitely not her San Francisco apartment.


She opened her eyes and waited for the morning routine to begin. Every day, just after dawn, the maid would come in the room with some hot tea, porridge, and fresh peat for the fire. That was one thing she could get used to: Kat ’s daily ministrations. By the time Lily left her bed each morning, the room was warm, and fresh clothes for the day had been laid out. Worming through her clothes hamper for a not-so- dirty pair of jeans, or using a combination of shower steam and her hair dryer to remove some of the more obvious wrinkles from a shirt were a couple of twenty-first-century habits she definitely didn ’t miss.


Lily was struggling with her shirt when the door flung open. She was momentarily taken aback. Her instinct was to turn her back to shield herself from the eyes of the large Scot standing there. But surprise turned to anger as she thought that it was her room and she refused to cower in it in front of any man. And besides, apart from tying off the laces on the linen blouse, she was done dressing.


The laird couldn’t help but smile as he took in the sight of Lily in a woolen arisaid in a muted blue and red plaid. While Kat was busily stitching her new clothes with a proper fit, Lily had to make do with the largest women ’s clothing that could be found. As a result, the skirt she wore skimmed above her ankles and her shirt strained over her ample bosom. Ewen cocked an approving eyebrow “I see . you finally decided to rise from that bed, lass. ”


Lily caught his assessing look and her cheeks blazed red. Pulling the tartan shawl tightly around her shoulders, she said, “And I see you have no manners here in backwoods medieval Scotland. Have you never heard of knocking?” Her pulse quickened as her body responded to his gaze, making Lily even more flustered.


Ewen chuckled at her quick temper. “Aye, it ’s my house and I ’ll do as I please. And for an educated woman, you don’t appear to know much. You ’re a few hundred years too late for medieval Scotland. Though, if you wish, we can go in search of that labyrinth of yours. I ’m sure some fourteenth -century chieftain would be well pleased to get his hands on a fresh little lass like yourself. ”


“I know what medieval is, ” Lily grumbled. “That’s called sarcasm. ”


“Fine lass, you can explain it to me on the way. ”


“On the way where?”


He flashed her an amused glance. “You ’re going to work. ”


Lily did not appreciate the devilish gleam in his eyes. In fact, she was downright afraid. She barely knew this man, and wouldn’t put it past him to get the better of her by employing her as a washerwoman, or scullery maid, or some other such dreadful job.


“Work where, may I ask? Or does a powerful laird such as yourself not even need to share such information with his subjects?”


While her other comments merely amused Ewen, the last remark somehow riled him, and the blue eyes that were carefree but a moment ago became suddenly steely. “A laird does not become truly powerful without compassion and understanding for his subjects. You ’ll not imply I do less than that.”


His chiseled jaw clenched. Lily spied a subtle change in Ewen ’s stance as his muscles flexed slightly. He appeared suddenly as the warrior he was, making her heart pound with fear and more than a little admiration.


“You ’re right, of course, Ewen.” Instinctively, she reached her hand out to touch his arm. The thick bicep beneath his shirt tensed into solid muscle, and Lily’s legs grew weak beneath her.


Her modern mind clung to logic—she needed to find her way home at all costs, to leave this place where a woman’s life was full of hardship, where girls were passed from father to husband with no rights of their own. Yet Lily’s body kept barging in on those rational thoughts, announcing loud and clear that equal rights were one thing, but a body had its own demands. A primal physical want seared through Lily, her reason unable to govern her traitorous body. She stammered, “I-I ’m sorry, I really do appreciate all you’ve done for me.”


Their eyes locked as the suddenly intimate moment seemed suspended in time.


The effect he had on her utterly dumbfounded Lily. Here she was, cooped up with some ferocious Highlander, and instead of focusing single -mindedly on getting back to her own life, she was quick to apologize and appease, like some sort of crushed-out schoolgirl. Inhaling deeply, she removed her hand and vowed to keep more control of herself.

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