Just Wait For Me (Highland Gardens Book 3) (12 page)

“Get up!” A large hand grasped Stephen’s shoulder and shook.

Thank the good Lord for a warrior’s agility. He rose in a
flash, gripping the hilt of his dirk, ready to face a threat. Munn’s weathered
brown face greeted him. An unpleasant sight of which to wake certainly.
Blinking and shaking his head, Stephen chuckled. “You are lucky I did not
skewer you. You ken better than to wake me thusly.”

“Humpf.” The gnarly wee man fisted oversized hands at his
waist. “If you had not drank yourself into your cups with Campbell and Stewart
the last several eve’ns, waking you would have been easier.”

“Ach, I needed to keep them busy. Did not want them to pay
too much attention to Jillian and her unusual ways.”

“That’s as it may be, ’tis time to leave.”

Stephen jerked his gaze to the unshuttered window and beyond
to the clear blue sky.
Amen
. The storm had ended. They could be on their
way.

The air coming from outside felt warmer, lightening his
mood. He dressed in woolen
trews
and
leine
, and strapped on an
array of weapons. “Where have you been, Munn? I thought you had gone ahead to
Castle Lachlan.”

“Nae. Hunkered down in the stables. Saw things.”

“What did you see?” Stephen hesitated in the fastening of
the large claymore to his back.

“Calyn’s brother did not leave on the galley traveling to
Glasgow.”

Stephen pinned Munn with a penetrating stare. “Explain.”

“Headed out on horseback toward the inland track.”

“Why did you not stop him? Come to me directly to relay the
lad’s activities? Follow him?”

Munn shrugged. “Someone needed to guard the fae horses. I be
tell’n you now.”

“Damned devil’s spawn!” Stephen pulled the sheath’s leather
strap tight and stomped to Jillian’s bedchamber.

Ciaran would ride for Loch Fyne. But would he turn left
toward Castle Lachlan or right and head for Dunadd?

If Ciaran rode hard for Dunadd, Calyn would hear of
Stephen’s traveling companions before he had a chance to reach her and explain
the status of his affairs. Ciaran would certainly corrupt the tale. Then again,
the storm would have slowed the lad. Perhaps Stephen still had enough time to
escort Jillian to Castle Lachlan and the
Sithichean Sluaigh
, and then
ride like a
banshee
chased him to Dunadd and explain things to Calyn.
Once she learned he loved another woman, she’d certainly release him from their
commitment. Wouldn’t she?

Jillian was packing when he arrived at her chamber. She
glanced up from the task and smiled.

The sight made him grin. “I see you have been informed of
our departure.”

“Duncan stopped by.”

“Here, let me help with those.” He grabbed a saddlebag from
the floor and together they descended the stairs.

They gave thanks and said their goodbyes to Sir Robert,
collected the two MacLachlan guards, Duncan, and the
bairns
on the way
through the great hall, and rode out the castle gate through the slushy snow
before the morning escaped them.

Once out of sight of the castle folk, Munn appeared, riding
the rump of Duncan’s horse.

As the sun continued its arc across the cerulean sky, the
day grew warmer and the snow covering the ground continued to melt, making the
trail muddy and difficult to traverse, but they plodded onward. By late
afternoon, the small group was weary and ready to take their rest for the
night. Stephen guided them through a hilly area where a small cave lay hidden
within an outcrop of rocks. With a nod from him, the other men ensured no wild
inhabitants had taken up residence.

“All clear,” Duncan yelled.

Stephen handed Duff a bedroll. “Go and help Duncan set
camp.”

Keita trailed after the lad.

Stephen placed his hands on Jillian’s waist and lifted her
from the saddle. She slid down his front, thrilling him, trapped as she was
between his body and the horse. He kissed the tip of her nose. To his surprise,
she plundered his mouth, making his blood run hot, his cock harden.
Grrr
.
She would be the death of him.

He savored her unique taste. Her scent.
A very enjoyable
death at that
.

“My legs are wobbly,” she murmured.

Her lustrous gaze, full of desire, sent his heart into a
rapid thumping. He swallowed hard and stepped away. Hand in hand they strolled
into the cave.

Duff glanced up. “Lady Jillian’s shiny
plaide
is
gone.”

“You must be wrong.” Jillian dropped Stephen’s hand and
squatted beside the lad. “It was rolled inside these.” She lifted each of three
blankets. The silver cloth was not there.

“Shite.” Stephen rummaged through the remaining
plaides
and furs. He knew he should have destroyed the damn thing.

“It was with these others when we arrived at the castle,”
Jillian said, tone tentative.

“Ach, well, ’tis nae longer.” He ran a hand through his
snarled hair, yanking at the ends. “Someone must have taken it. The question is
who? And what do they intend to do with it?” He trailed his gaze across the
others to Munn. “Do you ken who might have taken the cloth?”

“Several people come to mind.”

He could just imagine. “Go back. See what you can learn.”

The wee man spun in a circle and vanished.

Jillian held a palm over her heart. “He freaks me out every
time he does that.”

Stephen didn’t bother reminding her not to use such words.
The fear of the future
plaide
falling into the wrong hands gnawed at the
inside of his chest. He gazed at her beloved face.

Jillian frowned, noticing the deep furrows in Stephen’s
forehead. Why did he seem so concerned about losing the space blanket? They had
enough wool blankets and furs to stay warm now that the weather had warmed. If
she wasn’t upset, he shouldn’t be.

“How many more days until we reach the time gate?” she
asked.

“Two. Mayhap three.”

That seemed like an eternity, but they’d come this far, she
could wait a few more days, especially if she spent those days with Stephen.

They ate a light meal and bedded down, rising early to
continue the trek.

On the third day out, they rode from within the shade of
forest trees onto a sundrenched ridge. Jillian let out a gasp. A large loch
reflected the clear blue of the early afternoon sky and the deep green of the
fir-covered hills from the opposite shore. The pungent smell of tidal water
teased her nostrils. Just off the near shore, nestled upon an islet within a
small bay, sat a faerie tale castle.

“Castle Lachlan?” Jillian asked.

“Aye, lass, we have arrived.” Stephen’s voice held a smile.

Jillian didn’t savor the thought of dealing with more snotty
castle lords and ladies. She really wanted to go home. Now. “Can’t we go
directly to the time gate?”

Over the last few days, Stephen had once again kept her at a
distance. He obviously didn’t feel for her as she did for him. It was
inevitable she would miss him. But like ripping off a sticky bandage, she
wanted the pain over. Staying longer, enjoying his company, wishing
if only
,
would make her miss him all the worse in the long run.

“From what we ken, the faerie knoll only works on full
moons,” Duncan said, joining them. “Three nights hence.”

Stephen tugged on his reins, and Jillian followed him down
the hill to a large stable. Duncan, the children, and guards trailed behind.
After the horses were taken away by young boys who threw her curious glances,
they descended the remainder of the hill to a pebbly beach, where water lapped
against several small boats made of wicker and skins.

“What are these boats called?” she asked.

“
Currachs
. We use them to come and go from the
castle. You can only ride a horse across during an unusually low tide.”

They loaded their gear into three of the boats. Keita
scraped a foot from side to side in the grit, staring at the ground. Duncan
tilted his head toward the child, and Stephen squatted next to her. “Do you
want to come to the castle with us?”

She bit her crooked lip and glanced at Duff, worry in her
mossy green eyes. He gave an abrupt nod, then she smiled and nodded with vigor.

“Let us be on our way then.” Duncan picked her up and placed
her into one of the boats, then Duff climbed in. Duncan pushed the boat into
the water, jumped aboard, and rowed toward the castle. The guards took the
second.

“Shall we?” Stephen grasped Jillian’s hand.

She inhaled a deep breath and stepped into the third boat.
After dragging the craft into the water, he joined her, taking oars to hand. What
new misadventure did they row toward?

“Nae worries, lass. Nae one at Castle Lachlan means you
harm.”

She hoped that was true as they approached the massive
structure and a chill skittered over her spine.

“Welcome!” A woman with dark amethyst eyes, shrouded in a
matching cape with thick white fur peeking from the hood, hurried toward them.
“Welcome to Castle Lachlan. So good to see you, Stephen. I had hoped to find
Archibald with you.”

Stephen bowed over her hand. “He chases Maclay.”

“Should have expected as much. He is determined to bring
Maclay to justice.” She shook her head, a deep frown darkening her features,
then she glanced at Jillian and her demeanor lightened. “And who is this you
brought with you?”

Jillian dropped into a curtsy, feeling awkward and out of
place. Stephen took hold of her hand and tucked it under an arm. “Lady Isobell,
’tis my pleasure to present Jillian O'Donnell, a friend of Patrick and Laurie.”

“Oh dear.” The woman’s gaze narrowed. “You came through the
faerie knoll?”

Jillian gasped. Threw an annoyed glance at Stephen. He
barely suppressed a grin, the corner of his lips quivering.

“Not exactly.” She glared at him.

He sobered. “’Tis a long story. Mayhap the telling could
wait until we are inside.”

The woman grasped Jillian’s free arm, drawing her away from
Stephen and toward the castle gate as they walked together like schooldays
friends. “We have much in common.”

Jillian doubted that.

Castle Lachlan wasn’t as large, nor perhaps as lavishly
adorned as Dunoon Castle, but as Jillian stepped over the threshold into the
great hall, something within her warmed to the place. Made her feel
comfortable. Tension in her shoulders eased. This was a home. Men and women and
children dressed in colorful tartans of red and green with yellow crossed the
stone floor covered here and there by woven rush mats, greeting one and other
cheerfully as they went about their business. Several acknowledged her with a
tentative smile, showing only mild curiosity, then continued on their way. Much
different from the audible whispers exchanged behind raised hands at Dunoon.

“Come and sit by the fire. You must be exhausted from your
travels. I am eager to hear of them.” Lady Isobell directed her to a grouping
of chairs before a hearth taller than Stephen by more than a foot, and wide
enough that several men could stand within. A welcoming fire burned with a
crackle and pop.

The raven-haired beauty dropped to a green velvet-cushioned
chair and propped her legs on a small embroidered footstool with a heavy sigh
of relief. The skirting of her purple gown hiked up, providing Jillian a
glimpse of a pair of very modern-looking Fair Isle knit leg warmers made with
synthetic fibers. Certainly not of the time period.

“I have recently given birth to a fine son.” Lady Isobell’s
smile glowed with happiness. “My ankles and hands still swell on occasion.”

Jillian shut an open mouth with a snap.

When the other woman noticed where Jillian stared, she
smirked. “Do you like my leg warmers? They were a gift from my mother-in-law,
Mairi, when we visited my husband’s family in a place called Anderson Creek a
couple of Christmases ago. Have you heard of it?”

“Uh…yeah. I live there, Lady Isobell.”

“No need for formality. Please. Just Isobell. I am sure we
will become bosom friends.” Isobell beamed. “Do you ken the MacLachlans? Mairi
and Iain? Patrick and Laurie? Elspeth and Finn?”

“I know them all. Laurie is my business partner. We own
Foxgloves
Garden Center
along with our friend Caitrina.”

“Ah. That explains much.” The woman’s violet eyes
brightened. “I have fond memories of the orchid room.”

“Yes. It’s lovely. Full of color, especially in winter.”
This was all too bizarre.
Had she fallen into a 1960’s episode of Twilight
Zone?

“And so verra warm.” Isobell fanned herself as if the
memories made her hot.

“The orchid room has state of the art environmental controls
encouraging peak performance from the plants.”

“The plants? Oh, aye, they are nice. And the cushions are
verra comfortable, if you understand my meaning.”

“Oh.” Jillian raised both eyebrows. Had the woman and her
husband used the orchid room for a…sexual encounter? Obviously, based on the
suggestive expression Isobell wore.

She patted Jillian’s arm. “Now, you must tell me all about
my niece and nephews. I miss the wee
bairns
terribly. It has been some
time since we visited.”

“You make it sound so normal. Time traveling, that is.”
Jillian swallowed uneasily.

“Far from normal, but I have come to terms with fae activity
since marrying Archibald, having our wee adventure, and living at Castle
Lachlan.”

“It boggles my mind.” Jillian looked beyond her hostess to
scan the hall, wondering what happened to Stephen and the children. Not seeing
them, she returned her attention to Isobell. “You mentioned the faerie knoll.
Is that how you traveled back and forth from…” Jillian glanced around again to
see if anyone listened to their conversation. No one seemed to pay them any
mind. “Anderson Creek?”

“Oh, aye. But only once. According to my father-in-law, a
person can only travel through the portal once in each direction. Our faerie
knoll sent us to Laurie’s garden then the garden gate returned us to the
knoll.”

“That isn’t how I came to be here.”

“Nae? Do tell.”

“It all started in a cave of sorts with a deep well, which I
fell into.”
Or into which I was shoved.

“Interesting.”

“Indeed,” Stephen said as he joined them by the hearth.

“Jillian was just telling me how she came to be here,
traveling with you.” Isobell studied Stephen. He seemed to squirm. “I was
delighted to hear you survived that foolish battle.” Isobell sobered. “So many
others died.”

There was a heavy silence then Isobell pinned Stephen with
narrowed eyes, the hint of an unspoken question in the intent gaze. “You do
look hale. Are you leaving Jillian in my care and traveling on to Dunadd to
see—”

“I will see Jillian to the faerie knoll on the full moon,”
Stephen cut the woman off.

She didn’t seem to mind. “Well, then, I guess I should have
Aine prepare a chamber for our Jillian.”

“Nae need. She will stay with me in my chamber.” Stephen’s
blunt statement provoked a raised brow from Isobell and surprise from Jillian.
Over the last few days, she’d thought…he’d lost interest. Perhaps she’d been
wrong. The thought of being alone with him sent a thrill through her system.

“I see...” Isobell’s lips quirked and she fought a smile.

A flush crept up Jillian’s chest, flaming her cheeks. What
must the other woman think? Oh, what did it matter? Jillian would soon leave
and she wanted to spend the last few nights of her stay in the past in
Stephen’s bed. Without the children.

He presented a hand and helped her from the chair. “I will
show you the way. I am sure you would like to bathe before the evening meal.”

“I would. You will excuse us Lady—”

“No
lady
. Please.”

“Isobell then.”

“Stephen will take good care of you, Jillian.” Their hostess
smiled. “He is braw. Is he not?” She winked.

Jillian nodded. Embarrassment heated her chest yet again. Oh
yeah, he was a handsome blond devil. As they walked through the great hall and
climbed the narrow circular stair, Jillian pondered over what Isobell might
have been about to say when Stephen cut her off. She would ask him when they
arrived at his bedchamber.

But when they entered the room, he spun her around, pushed
her back against the hard oak door, and kissed her senseless, the kissing
all-consuming. The feel of his satiny lips and velvet tongue working her mouth
made her sex clench and weep. She clutched the hem of his shirt, desperate to
feel his skin. Breaking off the kiss, she yanked the soft fabric up and over
his head. His throaty chuckle made her bold. She skimmed impatient fingers over
his abdomen. Splayed her hands on the heated flesh of his chest, relishing the
flex and ripple of honed muscle as he moved and wrapped her within a tender
embrace.

Without a word, he lifted her into strong arms, carried her
to the large canopied bed, and seated her at the edge.

“What about the bath?” she asked.

“I instructed the lads to take their time heating the
water.”

“Well, then.” She ran an appraising gaze over his fine form.
“I want you naked.”

His eyes flared. “Ach, lass. You ken just what to say to a
man.”

His wool pants dropped to the floor, the belt buckle
clunking the stone. His plaid landed on top. His erection jutted forward. The
sight pebbled her nipples tighter, and she reached for the ties on her gown.

“Allow me.” He made quick work of divesting her of the heavy
gown and undergarments then tenderly laid her back on the mattress. He rose
over her and, leaning in, took possession of her mouth. A kiss that left her
breathless, wanting more, wanting everything, wanting forever.

His lips whispered over her flesh like fine silk, skimming
along her neck and chest and latching onto a sensitized nipple. Overwhelming
pleasure shot to her core.

She ran her fingers through his tangled hair, holding his
head to her breast. She arched. Moaned. A needy sound that took her by
surprise. Oh, man. She wanted him deep inside. Her muscles tightened and her
sex throbbed.

“I want you
now
!”

His deep chuckle was so damn sexy.

“I dinnae want to rush. I want to savor every last taste of
you.” He switched the sinful torment to the other breast.

She burrowed her heels into the mattress. Clutched the
coverlet, fingernails digging deep. Stifled a scream as an orgasm took hold,
built to a crescendo, and bliss wrapped her in its loving embrace.

“Ach, you are beautiful when you come for me.” Stephen
released her breast and kissed her mouth, hard, going deep with his tongue.

She’d never come like that, not from a man just sucking on
her nipples. She felt raw and tender and needy. Still primed. She pulled
Stephen’s hair. “Now!”

“Aye, lass, as you wish.”

He entered her with a quick thrust that threw her into a
second orgasm. “Oh. Dear. God. Stephen, what are you doing to me?”

He grinned and continued with a leisurely lovemaking. As the
burn hit her, his speed increased and they both exploded at the same time. His
arms tightened around her and she didn’t understand the torrent of Gaelic words
he murmured in her ear, but loved his touch and the sound of his voice.

How would she ever leave this man?

“
Mo chridhe. Cha d'fhuaireadh facal Gaidhlig mar
.” My
heart. My only true love. Stephen couldn’t hold Jillian close enough to his
heart. In the very short time since they’d met, she’d become a part of him. He
needed her with every breath. She’d become his sole reason for living.

He’d find a way for them to be together. For always and
ever. No one would stand in his way.

“Stephen! Someone is banging on the door.” Jillian slipped
out of his embrace.

“I am coming.” He raised his voice to be heard through the
thick oak.

Jillian arched a graceful eyebrow and gave him a smug grin.
Ach, his words held a double entendre. He shook his head with a laugh.

“Must be the lads with our bath water.” He rose from the snarled
bedding and threw a cover over Jillian’s nude form. “I will return shortly.”

He tugged the bed curtain closed, hiding the most delectable
woman in the world from view. Donning his
leine
, he padded barefoot
across the cold floor whilst still chuckling over his faux pas and opened the
door. Several young
ghillies
entered, burdened with buckets of hot
water. The big metal tub was dragged from the curtained alcove and set before
the fire. One of Isobell’s many improvements to Castle Lachlan. After spending
time in that future place of Jillian’s, Isobell insisted each bedchamber have
its own tub. A major expense, but although they sometimes debated over the
changes, Archibald mostly always gave in to Isobell’s requests. Theirs was a
true love match. As he prayed he would have with Jillian.

A bucket of hot water was hung within the heat of the hearth
for later use before the lads departed. With the door bolted for privacy,
Stephen strode toward the bed eager to bathe with his lady-love.