Just Wait For Me (Highland Gardens Book 3) (13 page)

Munn blinked into substance near the hidey-hole of the
woodland
bairns
. He sniffed the air, and sniffed again. Fae and human
essence lingered in the area. The strongest was the musky scent of a male
faerie. He scratched his chin. Had the Prince of Darkness been there?

His nose twitched. Caitrina’s sickening oriental perfume
fouled his breath. As did the filthy body odor of Maclay. The slight whiff
lingering of the
bairns
proved they hadn’t visited the spot this day.

With another deep inhale, he caught another scent, one Munn
had only recently become acquainted with—Ciaran.

How had Calyn’s brother found the place? At least, he was
days away from Dunadd and his sister. She wouldn’t hear of Stephen’s activities
anytime soon. Munn would follow the lad’s scent to ensure no tales were spoken,
but first…

He scurried into the thicket. Sharp thorns scratched exposed
skin, and he grumbled aloud even though no one could hear the complaint. Magic
vibrated and hummed. An unceasing ringing assaulted Munn’s sensitive ears. Translucent
colors shimmered and swirled. He extended a hand. Slowly. Ever so slowly. Hair
on his arm bristled. He touched the covering of the stash. Ouch! He yanked his
hand away, the tips of his fingers singed.

He stuck them into his mouth. An acrid taste made him gag.
He rubbed his hands on his
trews
. Shite! The stinging pain remained.
Dark magic protected the
bairn’s
treasure trove.
Dugaid
?

With a grumble and a moan, he backed out of the thicket,
receiving more scratches for his trouble.
Stephen better appreciate my
efforts on his behalf. And as for Caitrina
—

A shrill sneeze cleansed the stench of burned flesh from his
nostrils. He needed to concentrate on just one scent. With a sharp inhale, he
spun and spun and vanished on the breeze, following Ciaran’s trail through the
wood.

* * *

Stephen drew aside the bed curtains. His heart lurched.
Desire spiked. Jillian reclined on the mattress, eyes closed, silky brown
hair—now much longer than when she appeared at the Caves of the Gray
Women—fanned a pillow.
Exquisite
. Her state of undress combined with the
scent of their previous lovemaking made him hard and wanting; tempted him to
join her for another tumble in the furs.

She slowly opened her eyes. A tired gaze touched him, made
him rethink the carnal impulse. Instead, he assisted her from the bed. “Come,
lass, your bath awaits.”

“Thank you.” She leaned on him and clambered into the tub.

“Shall I summon a woman to attend you, or might you honor me
with the task?”

She squeezed his fingers. “I’d like to just soak a bit and
think.”

“As you wish.”

Stephen made busy tending the fire so he wouldn’t act upon
the longing to drag Jillian to the bed for another round of lovemaking, though
that was exactly what he wanted to do. He couldn’t get enough of her. When he
turned back to the tub, she was leaning against a wet drying cloth, eyes
closed, arms hanging limp on the rim. He should have realized how tired she’d
be after their trek and given her time to rest before coming to her like a
rutting beast. Though she’d seemed to enjoy their loving.

He rubbed an ache in the center of his chest. This woman had
come to mean so much to him. He couldn’t imagine a life without her smile, her
scent, her touch. He wanted to go with her to the future.

Mayhap she feared asking him to join her, uncertain of his
intentions as he was unsure of hers. He needed to declare his love. But how?
He’d never been so powerfully charmed by a lass. Never before had his stomach
been knotted with self-doubt.

What if she rejected him? It would tear his heart asunder. A
risk he must take. “Jillian, I—”

“Stephen, I was…” Jillian chuckled. “I’m sorry, what were
you about to say?”

“Nae worries. It was not important.”
Although it is of
the utmost importance to me.
“You?”

“I was wondering. Do you think I could take Keita with me
through the time gate to the future? I believe the doctors—healing men and
women—of my time could fix her mouth. Make her look normal.”

His heart tripped.
She has decided to leave with no
invitation for me to join her?

“I dinnae ken.” He rubbed a hand over his face. He hated the
thought of being left behind. He’d be a shadow of a man without her bright
light. “You should speak to Keita. She may not want to leave Duff. And what
would you do with her once she is healed? You might not be able to send her
back. The faerie knoll is a fickle place.”

He should know. He’d tried to follow after his cousin many
times and failed.

“I’d treat her as my daughter, of course. Adopt her if need
be. I can give her a better life.”

“You ken naught of her past.”

“It doesn’t matter. Only her future matters.” Lovely
shoulders set firm, Jillian seemed determined to take the lass.

“What of Duff and the other lads?”

“I’m willing to take Duff, also, if he wants to come, but I
can’t take them all.”

“Ach, well, then you best speak to Keita and Duff. The full
moon is two days hence.”

A smile lit her face. “Thank you, Stephen. I feared you’d
nix the idea.”

“There is nae need to thank me. It is up to the children to
decide if they want to join you.” What about him? How could he garner her love?
He grabbed a washing cloth from a nearby table, needing something to do while
his thoughts whirled. “Lean forward, sweetling. I will scrub your back.”

His hand shook. She glanced at him strangely, brow furrowed,
then did as requested. With a deep breath, he went about the task at hand. His
mind was in such turmoil he hardly noticed the glorious curve of her neck. The
softness of her skin. The scent of lavender wafting from the water.

Jillian had such a kind heart, he couldn’t help but love
her. And that was both a pleasure and a problem. He needed to convince her to
take him to the future. To be his forever and always love. There must be a way
to make the faerie knoll accept all of them. He couldn’t lose Jillian now that
they’d found each other.

Mayhap she was the key. Mayhap together they could make the
faerie knoll work.

Yet guilt gnawed. Conflicting emotions near to choking him.
What of his handfasted wife? He’d never believed he’d lain with Calyn. She
couldn’t be carrying his
bairn
. If he left with Jillian and the
children, disappeared from Scotland as he knew it, Calyn would find another in
which to sink her claws. He brushed away the niggling remorse.

Ach, his dithering would drive him mad.

“I ken I am being presumptuous.” He hesitated, unsure. Mouth
suddenly dry. What if Jillian didn’t feel the same for him as he felt for her?
Grrr!
Just ask.
“Would you consider taking me along?”

Relief swept over Jillian. Stephen wanted to come, too.
She’d hoped. Prayed. Even considered remaining in the past with him, but wasn’t
sure he’d wanted her to stay. Might he feel the same for her as she felt for
him? She’d fallen heels over head in love.

“If your answer is nae, I understand. I ken I dinnae have
much to offer you in your time. But I have a strong back and am willing to work
hard. I love you. I want to spend the rest of my days and nights with you.”

She stood and lunged into his arms, water sloshing over the
side of the tub and onto the floor. She kissed his face. His lips. Hugged him
tight. “I love you, too.”

“Easy, lass, I dinnae want to slip and drop you.” He stepped
away from the wet floor, swung her in a circle, kissed the tip of her nose, and
deposited her on the rush mat.

She accepted the large towel he offered and wrapped it
sarong-like, tucking the ends at the top. Joy made her giddy. “Of course I want
you to come with me.”

“I am glad.” Stephen hugged her, holding her close for
several breaths, then he stepped into the tub, a large smile curving his lips.
“Now ’tis time for my bath.”

“You can’t mean to use the same water. It’s become cold. And
it smells of lavender.”

He laughed as he sat in the same water she had bathed in.
“’Tis common to share bath water. Though usually men bathe first, then women,
and lastly
bairns
.”

“I’m happy you want to go forward with me. I’ve been
agonizing over the matter for days. I think I would find it difficult to live
here permanently. Life in my time is very different. Easier. But if you wanted
me to, I’d stay.”

His eyebrows rose. “Truly?”

In answer she kissed the tip of his nose, as he had hers a
moment before, then skipped away.

“Easier you say? How so?”

“Well, it is and it isn’t. It’s hard to explain. We have
many conveniences that make life easier. Yet many people are overly stressed
due to the fast pace of the time.”

“Was it my willingness to work hard that made you decide in
my favor?”

She danced back to the tub and squeezed the muscle in his
bicep amazed at how well he’d healed since they’d met. “Do you think the
children will want to go with us?”

He climbed out of the tub and wrapped a towel around his
waist. “Shall we dress and go find the
bairns
to learn their answer?”

A timid knock had them both turning toward the door.

“Aye?” Stephen stalked across the room and partly opened the
panel, protecting Jillian from prying eyes. Keita scuffled through the gap,
hugging a bundle of cloth to her chest.

“What have you there?” Jillian crouched in front of the
child.

“Lady Isobell sent the most beautiful garments.” A pair of
kid slippers slid from within the bundle. “And pretty shoes.”

Jillian picked up the slippers and took the clothing to the
bed. She held up the embroidered burgundy gown. Breathtaking. She carefully
laid it across the mattress.

“Sweet pea, come sit by the fire. We need to talk to you.”

Keita climbed up onto one of the chairs, and calmly waited.

Jillian didn’t know where to start. How to explain. Finally,
she just spoke from the heart.

“I’m going home soon and I’d like very much for you to come
with me. You would become my daughter. There are men and women with great
healing powers I believe can straighten your mouth. Stephen is going, too, and
if you want, we can ask Duff to join us.”

Keita just stared. Eyes wide. Several minutes passed then
she smiled. A beautiful crooked smile. Her nod was abrupt, but melted Jillian’s
heart.

Suddenly, the tapestry on the wall behind the little girl
moved. The massive peridot-colored dragon undulated as the fabric wavered. She
stepped closer to inspect the heavy cloth.

“Duff!” Jillian jumped back and clutched her chest when the
boy popped out from behind the tapestry. “Where did you come from?”

“How did you find the secret passageway?” Stephen asked,
voice gruff.

“There are many in the castle.” The lad shrugged, feigning
innocence. “Even one behind the carved wooden wall in the council chamber.”

“How much did you overhear?” Jillian asked.

“All of it.” He raised his chin. “I go wherever Keita goes.
I am her champion.”

Stephen patted the boy’s shoulder. “As you should be.”

“I would love for you to come, too, Duff. Where I live is
much different than here. You would become my son. Live with me and Stephen in
a small house.” She glanced at
her man
hopeful he was onboard with
living together. His nod and grin released a knot of tension within her chest
she hadn’t realized she’d harbored. She returned her gaze to Duff. “No more
living in the woods.”

“Will Keita be even prettier if she gets her mouth fixed?”

“She will.”

“Then we both are coming with you.”

“It is settled,” Stephen said. “We leave in two days’ time.
You cannot take aught from here except the clothes you wear. And ’twill be our
secret. Aye?”

Both children nodded, expressions earnest.

“Good. Now scoot along and allow us to get ready for the
evening meal.” He wrapped his arm around Jillian and elation made her buoyant.

Stephen escorted Jillian into the great hall. He teemed with
pride as clansmen’s heads swiveled, following their progress across the chamber
to the dais and head table. Beautifully garbed in a burgundy gown, Jillian’s
skin glowed with health. Beams of amber candlelight streaked her brown hair
with gilt, making the locks glisten. And she smelled of heavenly lavender.

He couldn’t help but chuckle; he also carried the feminine
scent.

“Welcome to my board.” Isobell smiled in greeting. “I hope
you find dinner pleasing.”

“I’m sure we will,” Jillian responded with genuine warmth as
he seated her to the right of Isobell as honored guest. Stephen sat next to his
lady. Duncan took the seat to Isobell’s left, providing protection seldom
required within the walls of Castle Lachlan.

Although, not long ago, Archie’s sister, Elspeth, had been
kidnapped from her bedchamber by way of a hidden passage. Duncan, as MacLachlan
captain, took nae chances with his chief’s lady-wife in Archie’s absence.

Their hostess leaned close to Jillian and whispered, “I
requested Cookie make something
similar
to what you might find in your
time. Will venison stew baked in pastry and stewed apples appeal?”

“You needn’t have made a special effort.”

“Nae trouble.” Isobell waved a hand. “It is our desire to
make your stay at Castle Lachlan pleasurable and memorable.”

Jillian glanced at Stephen, her lips curved in a satisfied
smile. He grinned, wondering if she, too, recalled their earlier loving upon
the furs.

Several young
ghillies
served dinner. He took little
notice of the meal, content to be with Jillian. As they served the last course,
the tower horn bellowed a warning. A party crossed the bay headed for Castle
Lachlan.

“I do hope it is Archie.” Isobell rose. “Please, finish your
meals.”

Stephen frowned. “You ken the horn would have blown a
different sequence of notes to announce the chief’s arrival.”

“He may be traveling with others. In secret.”

“It is late.” Duncan stood. “If it please you, Lady Isobell,
I will go and greet the newcomers.”

“Aye, that would be best,” she conceded with a sigh, and
dropped back to her chair.

They waited in tense silence. A short time passed and a
group of men stomped into the hall with Duncan. The Sheriff of Bute and several
of his guardsmen. What the hell was Ninian Stewart doing at Castle Lachlan?

Jillian stiffened at his side as the man approached the
dais. Stephen grasped her hand under the table, hoping to ease her concern. He
didn’t care for the presence of the sheriff either. Seemed odd considering
they’d left the man at Dunoon Castle mere days ago and there had been nae
mention of planned travel to Castle Lachlan.

“Good eve’n, m’lady.” Ninian bowed over Lady Isobell’s hand
then an inscrutable gaze took in each individual at the high table in turn.
“Lady Jillian.” He nodded in her direction. “MacEwen.”

“What has you traveling north again?” Stephen asked, working
to keep his voice dispassionate.

The sheriff ignored the question. “Lady Isobell, please
excuse my arrival at this late hour. It is with great urgency I must speak with
Archibald. Is he here?”

“My husband is away, patrolling our borders since no one
seems capable of bringing the fugitive Maclay to justice.” The lady’s voice
dripped scorn.

Ninian stiffened at the taunt, but kept a cordial smile in
place. “Then may I confer with you in private, m’lady?”

“You cannot,” Stephen blurted.

“As you are championing the lady, I will take nae offence.
Howbeit, keep your head, MacEwen. Lady Isobell is perfectly safe with me.”

Isobell raised a brow before standing. “My woman, Aine, will
accompany me. You can say what you will in front of her. And Duncan will stand
guard at the door.”

“As you request, m’lady.” The sheriff assisted her from the
dais. Then he pinned Stephen with a hard stare. “You and Lady Jillian are
spending the night?”

“We are.”

“Then I look forward to breaking my fast with both of you on
the morrow.” He gave Isobell a coy smile. “That is if you will offer me and my
men hospitality for the night, m’lady.”

Isobell regarded the man, eyes narrowed, lips thinned. “We
are naught if not purveyors of Highland hospitality.”

“So right.” Ninian waved an arm toward the north door.
“Shall we?”

Isobell lifted the hem of her gown and marched across the
hall, the sheriff keeping pace, a flustered Aine and a frowning Duncan in their
wake. Near the door, one of Ninian’s lads handed him a leather-wrapped parcel
as the foursome departed the hall. Two of the sheriff’s guards followed while
the remaining lads took position flanking both exits.

“What is going on?” Jillian’s voice quavered.

“Dinnae ken, but whatever the sheriff is about cannot be
good.”

Clansmen voices escalated with conjecture, sounding like a
gaggle of geese. Maclay’s name uttered by many. Stephen didn’t like the
direction of his thoughts. He had to believe the sheriff’s sudden arrival had
naught to do with Maclay and everything to do with Jillian and her unique
origin.
Shite!

Jillian pushed food around in circles on the trencher before
them. He stilled her hand with a light touch. “Nae longer hungry?”

She shook her head. “Lost my appetite.”

“They may be sequestered in Archie’s study for a lengthy
time. Shall we retire for the night with hopes the morrow arises a sunny day?”

“Sounds like a plan.” They left the chamber to the buzz of
speculation. Jillian stopped him a short distance along the passageway. “Why do
you think the sheriff is here?”

Stephen shrugged, keeping his features blank. “Could be
anything.”

“You don’t believe that any more than I do. It’s about me.”

“Dinnae jump to conclusions.”

She rolled her eyes and pursed her lips. “I’m not.”

“If ’tis about you, we will deal with what may come. Dinnae
worry.” He squeezed her hand and they ascended the circular stair. He
protecting her back.

They reached the bedchamber, and he sought something to
distract his lady. The bathing alcove’s curtain hung open, and his gaze lit on
the table containing a bowl, razor, and scissor. He should look his best when
arriving in Jillian’s future time.

“Lass, might I ask a favor?”

“Of course.”

“Would you be so kind as to trim my hair and shave my beard?
I could summon a
ghilllie
, but would prefer your gentle touch.”

That put a smile on Jillian’s lips as he intended. “I’ve
often done the same for my brother. His hair and beard have never been quite as
long as yours though.”

“So you cannot handle this mess,” he teased.

“I think I can manage. Sit.” She shoved him onto a chair
near the grooming table. He dropped the
plaide
from his shoulder and
tugged off his
leine
, tossing the garment aside, his chest bared to his
lady.

She arched a feminine brow. “You sure you only want a
haircut?”

“Aye. And much more later.” He winked.

Jillian smiled and slipped nimble fingers through his hair,
kneading the scalp, sensitizing the flesh with the tips of her nails. He leaned
into the sensual touch. A thrill spiraled down his spine, pooling low in his
gut, making him hard. He choked on an abrupt intake of breath.

She laughed, well aware of her effect on him.

Perhaps he did want
more
sooner. He hadn’t meant for
her to incite his sexual desires so quickly, yet his ploy had worked. His
lady’s sweet chuckles lightened his heart. She nae longer seemed overcome with
fearsome thoughts of the sheriff. Stephen shifted his weight on the chair.
Would be hard to sit still with her so close, with her touch driving him mad,
but he would make the effort to keep a rein on his urges for her sake. Besides,
dragging out this moment of intimacy would make their lovemaking all the more
urgent and fulfilling later.

Jillian detangled his hair then picked up the scissor.
Stepping close, one leg positioned between his legs and the other to the side,
her gown brushed over his thigh. He felt the warmth of her womanly mound press
against him as she moved in tight and cut a lock of hair. She dropped it to the
stone floor then moved in snug for another snip. Breasts at eye level, he could
do naught but stare. His cock jerked, and he moistened suddenly parched lips.
Her husky laugh made him harder. Needier.

Clip. Clip. Hair dropped to the floor at his feet. With each
snip, she moved, rubbing against him, intimately, causing pleasure-pain,
driving him to the edge of tolerance.

“Are you okay? You seem to be breathing quite hard.”

“I am fine,” he gritted through clenched teeth. His desire
for her would be the death of him.

She trimmed his hair and then beard, taunting him with each
swish of her hips. When finished, she set the scissor aside and collected the
container of soap with brush. She moved behind him out of sight. Then she
stepped in close and cushioned his head against those breasts he so wanted to
suckle.

Later. He’d pleasure his lady later.

The lathered soap prickled bare skin and softened his
whiskers. When Jillian put the blade to his throat, he inhaled sharply.

“I’ll be careful. If you hold still, I won’t cut you.”

“I dinnae fear such. It is just…” He searched for the right
words to explain his feelings, yet fell short. “You have come to mean much to
me, lass. I thank you.”

Jillian blushed. “And you mean much to me.”

Their gazes held for a heartbeat, and then Jillian proceeded
to work on his beard. The rasp of the blade, her scent, her heart beating so
near, her body moving against his, left him breathless. The intimacy of the
moment touched him deeply, softened his heart. Life with Jillian would be good.
Days and nights filled with tender love.

When finished with the task, she handed him a cloth and set
the razor on the table then stood away, appraising her handiwork. “You look
like a modern man.”

He shot her a grin before wiping his face and tossing the
cloth aside. “Come here.”

She sidled close, and Stephen wrapped his arms around her
waist determined to offer gentleness this night. He guided her onto his lap.
She leaned against his chest, dropping her head onto a shoulder. She remained
quiet within his embrace for several heartbeats.

“I’m scared,” she murmured.

“I ken. Dinnae fash yourself. We will get through this.” He
brushed her lips with his—a whisper-soft kiss.

A heavy knocking at the door startled them both, and Jillian
jumped away. Alarm returning to her beloved features. “Who do you think it is?
Should I answer?”

“I will.” Before Stephen stood, the door banged open.

Duncan strode into the chamber, face flushed, shutting the
panel with a loud thud. “Sorry to disturb you, but—”

“What is going on?” Stephen demanded.

“Lady Isobell requests you and Lady Jillian join her and the
sheriff in the chief’s study. She said ’tis urgent and was quite adamant you
hurry else I would not have barged in on your privacy.”

“Why would they summon us?” Jillian asked. “It can only
mean—”

“Do you have any idea what this is about, Duncan?”

The big man shook his head, lips compressed.

“Ach, well, we best find out what the sheriff wants.”
Stephen held Jillian’s hand as Duncan escorted them through the passageway. He
took the steep stairs to Archie’s work chamber first, acting as a shield in
case she were to stumble. Along the entire way the back of Stephen’s neck
itched, a likely portent of an unpleasant confrontation.

Archie’s chamber was much the same as it had been when it
belonged to his twin, Patrick. A work table and chair in front of the high
window. Two chairs before the hearth. How many times had Stephen sat there with
his cousin, Patrick, discussing clan business?

Jillian trembled and he squeezed her fingers in reassurance,
but he had a bad feeling about the proceedings. He hated to imagine why the
sheriff wished to meet with him and Jillian. It could only be about one thing.

Isobell sat at the desk, her facial features impassive. Aine
stood behind, wringing age-spotted hands. The sheriff leaned on the hearth
mantel, wearing a smug expression.

“Please be seated.” He nodded to the two empty chairs.

Stephen seated Jillian and then sat beside her facing the
sheriff. The man tossed the leather wrapped parcel he’d taken from one of the
guards earlier onto Stephen’s lap. “What do you make of this, MacEwen?”

He unwrapped the package, and his stomach plummeted. Jillian
gasped, revealing more than she should. ’Twas the silver cloth from the future.

Stephen moved the cloth from side to side, light from the
fire flashing on the shiny surface. “Unusual.”

“Aye, ’tis. Does this belong to you, Lady Jillian?” the
Sheriff’s harsh voice demanded.

“I—”

“What is this about, Ninian?” Stephen wanted to direct the
sheriff’s attention away from Jillian.

“Ciaran of Dunadd has accused the lass of witchcraft,
claiming she conjured that strange cloth to use for ill. What is the cloth for,
Lady Jillian?”

So Calyn’s brother had stolen the silver
plaide
from
Jillian’s chamber at Dunoon. How had he known it was there? Had he found it by
accident?

Stephen didn’t wait for Jillian to answer the sheriff’s
question. “You cannot believe what the lad says?”

“This cloth is not of our world,” Ninian said with a
stubborn jut of the chin.

“How do you ken that?”

“Just look at the fabric, MacEwen. Nae Highland weaver
creates cloth such as this—”

“It is late.” Isobell interrupted. She rose from her chair
and stood beside Jillian, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “We are
all tired. I will have a chamber prepared for you, Ninian.”