The next morning, Ellie sat in the great hall, a bowl of steaming mutton stew before her on the table. With a deep sigh, she picked up a spoon and poked the familiar smelling soup.
She wasn't hungry.
After the incident in the chapel, food was the last thing on her mind.
How could Ewan just leave her like that, dismissing her as though she was nothing more than a possession he could do with as he pleased? And for this, she'd left everything she'd known behind?
Oh, how she despised being in love!
Pushing her chair back, she rose from the table and wandered toward the heavy wooden doors. She needed some air.
As she stepped out into the bailey, she felt the shadow of someone following close behind. She turned sharply and caught one of Ewan's soldiers in tow.
Perfect. Now she was being followed. So much for trust.
She wasn't some naive young girl. In fact, since the day she'd been born, she'd travelled the world with her parents, living in some of the most remote and uncivilized villages in third-world countries.
She crossed her arms and glared at the man with scraggly brown hair and striking blue eyes. "And who are you?"
Okay, so her Gaelic was rough, but she could tell by the amusement glittering in his gaze, he knew what was being said.
"David, ma Lady."
"Well, David, there is no need to follow me so closely."
"'Tis ma job, ma Lady. I'm to provide your protection."
"I don't need protecting; I just need some breathing space." She turned and began walking toward the keep gates. The sun peeked out from behind a thick bank of grey cloud, and she longed to stretch her legs and explore the surrounding area. Ruins aside, she couldn't help be astounded at how very different the landscape was compared to her time. As for Ewan's home, all her notions of what the keep would have looked like had been completely wrong.
A smile crept to her lips as she envisaged Michael returning to the cottage, police and dig teams with him, only to find she had disappeared. What a scandal it would cause, especially as he'd been the last one to see her alive.
"Ma Lady." David called after her. "You can’t leave the keep. I have orders—"
What was the man going to do? Grab her? Hold her against her will?
"You'll just have to follow me then, won't you?"
She paused just outside the gate, her breath catching as she gazed upon the most stunning scenery imaginable. Incredible.
Strange, that in all her digs for archaeology, she'd rarely ever stopped to admire the sites purely for aesthetic pleasure. No. She'd always been far too interested in discovering what lay beneath the soil to care.
The mountain peaks glowed with muted hues of gold, blue, and green. Trails of mist meandered through the lower valleys and floated over lakes. Wild flowers carpeted the fields below, the heather setting a trail down to where a small cluster of stone and thatched roofed cottages lay nestled beneath the watchful eye of the keep.
No wonder Ewan had wanted to return home so badly. This was a place worth coming back to.
"So verra different from your England, isn't it?"
She jumped at the sudden voice beside her.
Liam.
She tugged on the plaid around her shoulders. "I didn't realize you were still here."
Oh, dear.
The poor man's handsome face was swollen, his nose obviously broken, and his lips split in several places. She'd heard about what happened in the hall last night. Lord, Ewan had really made a mess of his cousin.
Shit. Guilt nudged her conscience. Despite the 'misunderstanding', the man hadn't harmed her. She'd tried to explain that point to Ewan, but he'd made it clear he wasn't listening.
David hovered nearby, hand on the hilt of his sword, obviously concerned by Liam's proximity to her. Cripes. The last thing she needed were two men killing each other over a simple conversation.
She took a step back to put some space between them. "I'm sorry you got hurt, Liam. Ewan has a short temper with these kinds of matters, but you probably already knew that."
He smiled, then winced and touched a cut on his chin.
"There is nae need to apologize, ma Lady. Ewan had every right to seek retribution. It was ma fault for nae listening to you."
It was? Strange he would admit it so easily.
"I guess it took a beating to make me see the error of ma ways. Ewan is ma eldest cousin. I should have shown you more respect."
The sincere glint in his eyes made her relax a little, and she smiled. "Well, let's hope that is the end of the matter at least. I'd hate to think every time your family visits there will be bloodshed."
He laughed and nodded. "Nae, only on special occasions."
At least he still had a sense of humor.
"Will you be staying for dinner?"
He glanced at David then shook his head.
"Nae, I don't think your husband would appreciate me keeping you company, but I thank you for the kind invitation. I had only come to fetch ma uncle's horse. The poor animal twisted its leg, so ma uncle decided to take one of Ewan's for the journey to MacTavish Keep. I'll return with a fresh horse for him tomorrow."
A cold trickle ran down her spine. "MacTavish?"
"Aye. His lands border the other side of the Munroe's. He came to help the MacKinnon's battle. Ma uncle is to help Ewan mediate the dividing of the spoils. They left for the MacTavish Keep at first light this morning."
She reached up and clasped the plaid against her chest.
Ewan had been so aggressive to the MacTavish in her time, she thought he might have wanted to harm him. Hell. She'd almost forgotten. In the future, Ewan's land belonged to the MacTavish clan.
Something in the past—the present—must have gone horribly wrong.
She turned to Liam. "The Laird MacTavish himself fought in the battle?"
"Aye. And at least fifty of his men. He and Laird MacKinnon have been close friends and allies since they were lads."
Good friends?
Ewan was in danger; she could feel it. And without the aid of at least a telephone to get word to him, she felt all but helpless. Hell. What she wouldn’t do for just a few modern conveniences.
She moved a little closer to Liam and lowered her voice so David couldn't hear. "I know this is asking a lot of you, especially after what happened this morning, but would you be willing to deliver a message to Ewan for me?"
One of his eyebrows rose. "Why? Did you find a speck of me he missed?"
Warmth tingled her cheeks. "Oh, I am sorry. I should have been more considerate. He'd be the last person you'd want to face again so soon."
He smiled at her, revealing a dimple in a similar place to Ewan’s.
"Dinna fret, ma Lady. I owe you ma servitude as penance for ma foolishness. Aye, I will take Ewan a message for you."
Ignoring David's stare of disapproval, she reached out and hugged her 'cousin'. "Wonderful. Now, it may take me a few minutes to find some parchment and quill—do come inside and wait for me in the hall."
Liam stretched out his arm toward the bailey. "As you wish, ma lady."
"What in the name of all things holy were you doing sending Liam on an errand? In fact, you may start by telling me just what you were thinking by talking to ma cousin at all."
Waking with a start, Ellie opened her eyes and tried to focus on the source of the sonic boom echoing in her chamber. She didn't need her glasses to know it was Ewan; he was obviously angry about something.
The soft illumination cast from a candle and the hearth lit the room. Lord knew what time it was, but through the slit in the wall they called a window, the sky outside was still dark.
She propped up on her elbow and rubbed her tired eyes. For most of the night, she'd sat by Laird MacKinnon, observing him for any outward signs of poisoning. But his lips were normal, if but a little pale. There was no discoloration in his fingernails or cuticles, nor had his skin taken on an unusual hue.
If the aging Laird was being poisoned, the manner and substance defied her limited medical knowledge.
When she'd first slipped into the room, the Laird had called her Margot. Poor man; he was delusional. He must have really loved his wife. And she couldn't even tell him Margot was still alive.
Ewan had asked her to wait until he returned to be introduced to his father, but she couldn't see the harm in trying to figure out what was ailing the old man.
Unfortunately, apart from the speaking the odd word or two, Laird MacKinnon just stared off into space, all the while muttering to himself like he was reciting some kind of chant.
For the moment, she was just as confounded by his condition as Ewan was.
That news alone probably wasn't going to do much to save her from the wrath bearing down at her from across the room.
"Ewan! I'm so relieved you're here, but I didn't expect you back so soon." He stopped before the bed and began removing his belts. "Um . . . what are you doing?"
As she met his intense gaze, flames flickered within his amber eyes.
Oh, dear. She'd forgotten how dangerous her lion could be.
His plaid dropped to the floor. He grabbed hold of his shirt and began hoisting up and over his shoulders. The sheer magnificence of his bare chest in the firelight made her gasp, and sent tingles of nervous anticipation skipping along her skin.
"First, I intend to relieve some of this tension I've been riding with for the past four hours; then, I shall have great pleasure in tanning the behind of ma disobedient wife."
At his abrupt comment, her simmering interest cooled into frosty defiance.
"You think to—to make love to me right now, after that wonderful greeting? I don't think so!"
She pushed back the furs and jumped out of the bed. If it was a fight he was after, she'd preferred to be standing face to face with him. She glanced up sharply and met his piercing glower. A lump formed in her throat.
Well, at least she would be standing.
"Why are you so angry? Isn't it acceptable for me to send you a message? It's not like I can email or you anything."
"Ee-male?"
"Never mind. The point is, you took off so suddenly yesterday, I didn't even had a chance to talk to you about what was going on. I merely wrote that I had some theories about your father, and what was happening with the land. I didn't beg you to drop everything and come back. Besides, I was worried about you. I thought you might have been in danger in the MacTavish keep."
His chest heaved as the last of his garments slid to the floor.
Scorching fire curled her toes, then rushed up along her body at the sight of him. He never did seem the least bit uncomfortable about getting naked. Typical.
"You have to understand, Ellie. Danger is everywhere here. It's nae something I can avoid. I can’t have Liam, or anyone else, paging me from ma duties like I'm some kind of weak soul tethered to ma wife's apron strings."
His words stung like a slap in the face.
"You think that caring about me is a symbol of weakness, do you?"
"Dinna twist ma words, woman."
Her fists clenched. "I'll twist your bloody neck if you're not careful!"
"Ellie . . . ."
"Fine. Sorry I bothered you. Go back to your meeting and tell them all that you really put me in my place—And, bounced me off a few walls for good measure."
A glint of hurt flickered in his eyes.
"You honestly think I would ever raise a hand to you?"
As Ewan bent down and scooped up his wayward plaid and shirt, she sat down on the edge of the bed, closed her eyes and released a deep sigh.
She jumped at the sound of a door being slammed shut.
Shit. Where was chocolate when she needed it?