"My Lady, if ye would but let me speak? My lord Campbell has sent us to rescue ye. Ye will not be harmed. Come, leave with us. We shall see ye safely home to your betrothed."
"As you can see, I am not in any need of a rescue. Send my regards to your master."
Connor whirled around at the man's voice, ready to defend Mackenzie. What he saw was Mackenzie holding a blade to the bleeding man's throat. He felt such relief that she was safe, and a strange swelling of pride that she had defended herself yet again. She was magnificent. A warrior goddess.
Her hair had come unbound, the honey-colored curls were 120
tumbling in the wind, and her cheeks were flushed with the exertion.
"Well done, lass." Connor came to stand by her side.
"Rise," he spoke to their prisoner. The man glared daggers at Connor through his swollen face, but he lurched to his feet, nonetheless. He staggered, but it was just a ploy to retrieve his sword from Mackenzie. Connor moved faster and ran him through before he could touch her.
A scream tore from Mackenzie's throat as she watched his eyes roll back into his head and gag on his own blood. Her fingers involuntarily dropped the sword, and she backed away from him with her hand over her mouth. When she backed into another man, she whirled to face him. It was just Connor. And her adrenaline was gone. He could tell she looked faint; the color was gone from her cheeks and her breathing was coming in shallow gasps. She looked as if just standing was taking all of her energy.
He lifted her into his arms, and carried her back to the training yard where his men seemed oblivious of what had just passed. He never stopped moving as he spoke his order,
"Dougal, Robbie, take the men and search the grounds."
His men wordlessly obeyed, some eyeing the silent girl in his arms. They armed themselves and went for their horses.
"Can you walk?"
"Yes." And he slid her down the length of his body until she stood on her own feet, but he didn't let go. She could feel his heart pounding.
"Are you all right lass?" his voice was thick with emotion and his lilting brogue caressed her ear.
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Either way, the soft musical words soothed her stretched nerves. He stroked her hair down her back, and finally pulled away enough to tip her face to his and drop a light kiss on her lips.
"I need to join my men..." Connor sounded torn. Did he really want to stay with her? Mackenzie couldn't be sure, but it
sounded
like that's what he wanted.
"I've never seen anyone die before, and now since last night..." Mackenzie couldn't finish her sentence without seeing their lifeless faces.
"Sshh...I ken. This is why women stay home instead of fighting. But woe befall any man who comes at you, lass. You were magnificent," his voice was that of awed respect. He smiled and ran his fingers down her cheek before grudgingly walking toward the stables for his horse. But he hadn't even made it halfway there, before his second in command rode up to him. They spoke in low intense tones, but they could have shouted for all Mackenzie could understand; it was in Erse.
Connor's whole body stiffened, and then he glared murderously at Mackenzie. She'd never seen him look like that, even when he'd been fighting; he'd never had such a steely, flinty look in his eyes. He said something to his man, and never taking his eyes from Mackenzie's confused expression, he strode back towards her.
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"I did no such thing." She said warily. He was so angry and she had no idea why. "What do you think I lied to you about?"
Now she was not only confused, but she was a little frightened; he was really mad at her.
Connor gripped her upper arm painfully, and reached his hand down the bodice of her gown. Ignoring her indignant gasp, Connor pulled the amulet she'd been given out from her cleavage and snarled at her,
"Then what, pray tell, is this?"
"An amulet. I was told that it was my only way out of this,"
Mackenzie shrugged; she didn't see where he was leading her with this.
"'Tis the crest of the Campbell. Only a Campbell may wear it, and 'tis given to a bride only after the marriage is consummated." She could see that his anger was barely controlled by the tightly clenched jaw muscles. "You lied to me."
It all hit her at once; the strain of what she had just seen, and what he was saying, accusing her of. Her eyebrows shot to her hairline, "You can't seriously think that I slept with him?!" She could see from the set of his jaw and the flash in his eyes that he could. "I've never even met him!" Connor was towing her behind him to the door that entered the Great Hall. "Connor, you kidnapped me within hours of crossing into this time.
You
kidnapped
me!
You were there! Connor..."
They had entered the castle by now, and he was dragging her to the tower stairs, to her room.
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"Connor, think about it! Why would I do—-"
"Enough of your lies!" He yelled at her, cutting her off.
She cringed back away from his black fury. The tears that had been threatening to spill earlier now fell silently down her cheeks. "I...I don't know what you're talking about," she couldn't make her voice above more than a whisper.
He gritted his teeth, speaking through them, "I almost believed you!"
Connor shoved her roughly into her room, where she stumbled before righting herself, and he slammed the door.
She turned against the cool wood and pressed her forehead to the door. While she yanked the unforgiving handle, Mackenzie heard him shout to someone named Robbie that she was not to leave, and no one was to come in apart from Bronwyn or himself. She heard him stomp away, listening until she couldn't hear the echo of his boots. Only then did she finally crumple to the floor and cried her eyes out.
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He left her alone for almost three days, with only Bronwyn coming in with her meals, and once a bath. Bronwyn hardly spoke to her, but on the second day, she placed a book on the table for Mackenzie, and with a sympathetic look over her shoulder, she left her alone again. She was grateful for the distraction the book provided, and her spirits were lifted slightly by the fact that Bronwyn seemed to care enough to bring it to her. But still, she felt unwanted and unwelcome, and while she and Connor had never spoken aloud their feelings, she'd thought that besides the mutual attraction, that they were at least becoming friends. She was wrong. She was nothing more than a tool; a means to an end. And she'd been naive enough to stay willingly. Well, that would change.
Mackenzie thought about climbing out the tower window, but after one look down, realized that it would be impossible.
It was a very slick wall with no foot holds and it was way too high to try to shimmy down without the foot holds. Besides that, the castle itself stood on the edge of a cliff, and even if she could shimmy down, she'd have to swim for it.
She thought about just walking out the door, but the glimpses she'd caught of her guard had her rethinking that plan. He was nearly as tall as Connor, but bigger, burlier. He reminded her of a lumberjack; just really big. At one point she realized that she had become a helpless damsel in distress, and she hated that fact. There had to be something she could do to free herself. If she could only talk to Connor 125
Her dreams became more and more vivid during her isolation. The one familiar nightmare now had some new twists. She also had some new dreams, and these were getting progressively more frightening. The first night, it was just the familiar fears of knowing she was going to die that had her screaming into her pillow. The second night, there was the addition of Connor staring at her from the opposite side of the room, and she was afraid for Connor this time, rather than herself. And that fear for Connor only grew stronger and stronger with each recurring dream. She had that same dream several times that night, so she figured that there must be some significance to Connor's appearance. It was especially strange since she'd been having that same dream since she was an adolescent, and never once had it deviated from the same plot. Connor's starring role confused her. Why was he there at all? And she'd always known that her death was a given. Did his presence in her dream mean that he was going to be killed too?
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She had to do something to keep from going insane. She wanted to try to escape, but even if she miraculously found a way to break out, she didn't know where she could go. Maybe she could play a prank on her babysitter? She thought about all the things her brother used to do to her when they were kids, and an idea formed.
The first night, she feigned an illness, and when her guard ran down to call for help, Mackenzie took advantage of the situation and sprinted out into the hallway. Unfortunately, though, he hadn't actually left, he just stood at the top of the stairs and hollered down for Bronwyn. Before he could see her, she darted into the next room, and pressed her back against the door with a sigh of relief. She looked around the room and came eye to eye with a hostile pair of brown eyes!
She was in someone else's room, and that particular someone else was in bed with a man!
She was taken back to her room, and it was humiliating.
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Robbie brought her some of Connor's mending, and Mackenzie stitched one shirt together, one she shorted a sleeve by a couple of inches, and she cut the sleeves off of one entirely. See him wear these!
Yet even after all of her annoying and admittedly childish pranks, Connor never came up to see her. Mackenzie had thought that cutting the sleeves off his shirt would have brought him in here itching for a fight. But he was still ignoring her. And that bothered Mackenzie much more than it should.
So after two and a half days of nothing but her own thoughts and the inevitable dreams for company, Mackenzie was exhausted, and annoyed, and confused, all at the same time. Annoyance at Connor primarily won out. After all, it was his fault that she was alone with her stupid fantasies. She squared her shoulders and decided that Connor could go to hell! The next time the Campbell sent an attack party, she would go with them, sticking to the original plan of staying with him. And screw Connor MacRae! Maybe then he'd realize she wasn't part of this stupid scheme.
The door opened, but instead of Bronwyn, Connor stepped in! But she forced herself not to care. Rather than the speech she'd had planned for him the day before, her new decision to ignore him fresh in her mind, Mackenzie stared at him without smiling, stood and walked to the window, her back to Connor.
"You'd do well to never turn your back on an enemy."
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He stared into her wide eyes for a moment before answering, "You have made it necessary."
Cryptic, great. "Nice, Connor. I have no ulterior motives.
Believe the bad guys." She sighed, "Whatever. So to what do I owe the great
honor
of your presence? I was under the impression that I was to rot away in here until the next century."
"A lady should no' use sarcasm." His eyes narrowed.
"I'm no lady." She sat down on the chair closest to the window, and sat on her purse! She'd forgotten about her purse, how could she forget her purse? And all the fun 21st century toys she had! Oh well, it didn't matter. The way he was behaving, she didn't care anymore about what Connor thought; or so she told herself. "So, I repeat, why are you here?"
"I need the amulet ye are wearing. I plan on sending it back to your
husband."
Her eyes narrowed at the sneered word, but she didn't say anything immediately. "What if I told you that I need it more than you do? That it is my way to freedom, my way home...would you care at all?"
"I would still ask that you give it to me."
"Ask?! Since when do you
ask
?"
Connor's smile was not a friendly one, "All right, I would prefer no' to take it from you, I would prefer that you give it willingly to me."
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"And you would have no problem taking it physically from me?"
He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.
"I didn't mean it that way," she said exasperated. "I know you are stronger than I am," she rolled her eyes. "I meant that you would have no problem
morally
taking this from me?"
He watched her fingers twisting and untwisting the pendant before meeting her eyes and answering, "Nay,
my
conscience is clear."
Mackenzie thought for a long moment, and some of the speech she had previously planned the day before came back to her. "All right, Connor, I'll give it to you, in order to prevent you from physically taking it off me." Connor held his hand out and stepped forward, only to freeze as she continued her thought. "But only on the condition that you listen to something I need to say first." She waited much more patiently than she felt.
"I could just take it from you and be done with it," he was clearly annoyed at the condition of surrender.
"Ah, but then how would you keep your conscience clear?"
She smiled a frigid smile at him. "Please, sit down," and she gestured to the chair on the opposite side of the fireplace.
"I'll stand."
He was going to make this difficult. Well she hadn't really expected any less of him. "All right, then. Hmm, how to start?
Well, I'll be blunt. Connor what year is it?"
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