Mairi was floating. Floating in the most perfect aquamarine water. Floating like a leaf, her body rising and falling as the waves washed up on a fine white sandy shore.
She knew this place, recognized the dream that had become so familiar to her in the past few years. It was the island pictured in a snapshot she kept pinned to the bulletin board above her desk. That photograph had come to represent her challenge and her goal in life. The promise and temptation of adventure was everything she had always wanted, but her nemesis, the fear she had lived with for the last nine years, kept her from reaching out and capturing her dreams.
The water in the photo, and in this dream, rippled quickly away as she reached for it, just like the things she wanted in life. But the island sat there firmly, not moving, holding out hope that someday she might be herself again, might be brave enough to actually go to that place. To walk on those ivory white beaches, wade into that breathtaking lagoon and immerse herself in those crystalline waters.
She stretched, and a dull throb in her foot brought her awake. For a brief instant, dream and reality overlapped. She thought she must still be dreaming as she looked into the clear blue-green of the Indian sea. But this was no dream.
It was his eyes.
“Morning, my sweet. This is getting to be a habit with us, isn’t it?”
Ramos’s one-sided grin hit her hard, low in her midsection.
No, no, no, she told herself. This was the man who thought he was in charge of her, who thought her stupid, who drugged her when she had specifically told him not to.
She grabbed at the hand he laid on her forehead, weakly trying to push it away. If her mouth didn’t feel dry enough for a grass fire, she’d be giving him a piece of her mind. As it was, she wasn’t sure her tongue wasn’t permanently stuck to the roof of her mouth.
His grin widened, and she could have sworn the room got brighter. Who could have imagined its impact? She was grateful she wasn’t standing. Not our fault, her mind babbled at her, we haven’t recovered yet. We’re still weak.
“Bollocks,” she managed to croak.
“Now that sounds like the Mairi I remember.” Rosalyn’s voice.
Mairi stretched to peek over the shoulder of the man who was obviously trying hard not to laugh out loud. That only irritated her more.
Her aunt looked a formidable figure standing in the doorway, a tray in her hands and a frown on her face. “And you, young man, what are you doing back in my niece’s bedchamber? Dinna I tell you to remain outside the door until I returned?”
Ramos waggled his eyebrows at Mairi, then wiped the grin from his face before turning to greet her aunt with a formal little nod of his head. “That you did, madam. But I heard noises in here and came to check on my ward.”
His what?
“Did ye now? All the way through this thick door? Likely it was no more than our lass there snoring.”
“Whatever it was, she’s awake now so I’m going to examine her foot.” Ramos sat on the bed and reached for her cover.
“You’ll be doing no such thing.” Rosalyn’s tone stopped his hand in midair. “I’ll get my healing basket and we’ll look at the lass’s injury together. Guardian or no, the only thing you’ll be touching while I’m gone is this mug and possibly the back of her head as you help her drink it down. Do you ken my meaning?”
“Yes, madam, I do.” Another almost imperceptible nod to her aunt as he took the mug Rosalyn handed him.
Rosalyn swept out the door, leaving it wide open in her wake.
“Guardian?” It came out as a broken, unrecognizable croak rather than the accusatory yell Mairi had aimed for.
“What?” His brow wrinkled. “Drink this before that damned she-dragon comes back. You’ve no idea what a force that woman is to deal with.”
He slid his arm under her shoulders, turning and lifting her to sit propped against his chest. The steaming mug appeared in front of her face.
“Here. Drink.”
She obediently sipped the brew, the hot liquid trickling down her throat, soothing as it went. The flowery taste brought back memories of her childhood and every illness or injury she’d ever had. And how loved and safe her aunt had always made her feel.
She relaxed against the wall of muscle behind her, Ramos’s arms around her. His hand held the weight of the mug and hers lay over his, guiding the drink to her mouth at her own speed. Her hand looked small and delicate lying over his large warm fingers.
What an absurd thought.
She tried to sit up, to move away, but he held her firmly.
“Take your time, Mairi. Getting something hot down your throat should make you feel more human soon. What was it you were trying to say before?”
Oh! How could she have forgotten, even for a moment? “You told my aunt that you were my guardian? What on earth were you thinking?”
He chuckled lightly, his breath tickling past her ear. “Yes. I wondered if you’d missed that. I guess you didn’t.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“I couldn’t tell them the truth. Literally. But we’ll talk about that later, when we’re not so likely to be interrupted. So I settled for a version of the truth. Something that would give me legitimate cause to stay near you.” He placed the mug on the table beside them and took her shoulders, partially turning her so they looked into one another’s eyes. “You do realize that I’m here because you didn’t come back?”
“Oh.” No, she hadn’t realized that. Hadn’t really had the opportunity to think about why he was here, only to wonder who he was. Now his presence made sense.
“Did my family send you?”
“Technically your sister-in-law, Cate, sent me.”
Apparently it was a very good thing she’d left a thorough paper trail for her family to find her. A small tendril of fear crept through her but she pushed the thought aside. She wouldn’t worry about what might have occurred that kept her from returning. About what has yet to occur to keep me from returning.
If the drugs hadn’t fogged her brain, attempting to unravel the confusion of time travel would.
“Obviously we know only that you didn’t return the same day you left as you should have. So my arrival was set to coincide as closely as possible to yours since we don’t know what happened to prevent your return or when it happened. Because of that, I’m none too keen on letting you out of my sight until I can get you home. I can’t protect someone I can’t see.”
“That awful MacPherson at Sithean Fardach. Do you think he could have…” She shuddered just thinking of what might have happened if Ramos hadn’t shown up. Perhaps she shouldn’t have been so quick to be irritated at his attitude. After all, without his arrival…Well, she didn’t even want to consider the possibilities.
“Could be.” He turned her around, tucking her back up against his chest. The mug once again appeared in front of her face. “Or something entirely different later on. Who knows? Personally I prefer to cover all my bases. You don’t get to be a hero by making rash assumptions.”
Lord, there’s that attitude.
She would roll her eyes if they weren’t so heavy. She took a couple more sips of her aunt’s brew, feeling it begin to work on her body.
“I’m surprised you dinna tell her you were my husband.”
“Such a falsehood would have made me verra angry.”
They both jumped at the sound of Rosalyn’s voice. She stood in the open doorway, frowning at them again.
“So it’s wise you kept to the truth. Dinna I tell you her head was all you were allowed to touch?”
“Sorry. I couldn’t figure out how to get this stuff in her mouth and not down her front any other way.” He rose from the bed and put the mug back on the table, all business now. “Let’s have a look at that foot.”
Rosalyn had moved to his side. Mairi looked from Ramos to her aunt. Both waited expectantly, watching her.
She sighed and pulled the covers off, lifting her foot.
Ramos shook his head, making a tsking noise. “I told you the last time we did this”—he reached down and slipped his arms under her, flipping her onto her stomach—“this position makes it much easier to check your injury.”
“I give up.” She flopped her head down on the bed.
“Good,” Ramos and her aunt commented together as one of them began to unwind the bandaging on her foot.
When had she so completely lost control of her quest?
From the very first moment I woke up in the thirteenth century.
“It sounds as though yer new life has been quite an adventure.” Rosalyn stroked her fingers down Mairi’s cheek before taking Mairi’s hands between her own. “For all these years of missing you and yer brother, that’s what I’ve hoped for. That you’d both be happy. And from what you’ve told me, Connor and Cate, with their wonderful children and their big house, are truly happy. But what about you? I’d imagined you with babes of yer own by now.”
They sat on Mairi’s bed, where they’d been for the last half hour, visiting about all that had happened to Mairi since she’d last seen her aunt. It felt almost like she’d never left.
“I love my work and school. I’ll be teaching soon and I’m looking forward to that. I’m happy.” Or she would be as soon as she was able to insure her aunt’s happiness.
“But you’ve no found the man for you?” Rosalyn stood and picked up Mairi’s shift, not looking up as she asked the question.
Mairi hesitated before she answered. This would be the one person who would understand the price she had paid for escaping death. But burdening Rosalyn with her sorrows was not what she’d come here to do.
“No.”
Mairi crawled from the bed and joined her aunt in the middle of the room, standing on a small fur rug. A damp chill crept up over her bare legs in spite of the cheerful fire.
Rosalyn held up the shift and Mairi lifted her arms, putting her full weight on her injured foot. There was almost no pain now, she noted absently, thankful for how quickly her body always healed, one of the side effects of her Fae heritage.
She was equally thankful to have some diversion from her aunt’s questions.
“He’s a fine, strong lad, that Ramos.” Rosalyn spoke as she dropped the shift over Mairi’s head.
“I suppose, if you like that type,” Mairi finally answered, clenching her teeth to avoid a mouthful of sleeve. And to avoid saying anything else. Why had her aunt brought Ramos into the conversation? When her head emerged from the clothing, she found Rosalyn staring at her thoughtfully.
“Aye.” Her aunt plopped the next layer of clothing over her head. “Do you no think him handsome?”
“Verra well, yes, he is a handsome man.” This was, after all, Rosalyn. Mairi had never been able to lie convincingly to the woman who’d raised her. But that didn’t make a difference in how she felt about Ramos, what she already knew him to be. “In that stubborn, masculine, take-up-all-the-space-in-a-room kind of way.”
This time when her head emerged through the top of the dress, she found her aunt laughing silently.
“What?”
“Ah, Mairi. How I’ve missed yer lively outlook on life, child. But answer me this: When yer in a room with him, is he taking up all the space or simply all the air yer trying to breathe? Do you care for the man more than simply as yer guardian? Is that why yer brother chose him to look after you?”
Mairi shrugged and pulled her braid over her shoulder, playing with the ends. “No, Connor didn’t pick him because of my feelings for him. As a matter of fact, I’d never even met the man before Connor chose him.”
“Ah.” Her aunt tilted her head, watching Mairi through narrowed eyes. “But is he no exactly what you would seek in yer man? Handsome, brave, devoted, chosen by yer own brother?”
Mairi glanced down, not wanting to look into her aunt’s eyes at the moment, unsure of how to answer.
Even she didn’t understand how Ramos could be all the things she’d always known she didn’t want in a man and yet there was no denying that he stirred something in her.
Not that it made any difference.
If there was one thing she was sure of, it was that the question of what she wanted in a man didn’t matter at all because there was no true love waiting for her anywhere. Not a woman like her. Not a woman who didn’t belong anywhere, to any time. Not a woman who wasn’t supposed to be alive.
But she wouldn’t share that with Rosalyn. It would only upset her aunt.
Rosalyn took the braid from her hands and began loosening it, combing the hair as she went.
Her aunt’s questions continued as her fingers worked through Mairi’s hair. “Is that why you’ve come here, lass? Something to do with this man?”
“No, I’ve come to—” The words froze in her throat as if she’d suddenly been struck mute. No matter how she tried, no sound, not even the smallest uttered breath issued from her lips. What was happening to her? I’ve come to save yer daughter. She could think the words, she just couldn’t say them.
Mairi knew, when she turned to her aunt, her eyes must reflect the panic flooding her body. Why couldn’t she speak?
“Ah,” Rosalyn breathed, as a look of understanding passed over her face. “Yer touched by the magic of the Fae, are you no? You canna speak of yer true purpose here. Dinna worry, lass. It’s their way. When the conditions of yer visit are met, when you’ve done what they want you to do, you’ll be free of that.”
“When I’ve finished what I’ve come to do,” Mairi managed to whisper. “Right? That’s what you meant.”
Rosalyn chuckled, shaking her head. “You should ken better than that. Yer dealing with the Fae, my dear. They’re a perverse lot, with minds of their own as to how things should be. It’s why using the Faerie power is always such a hard decision. Oh, often as not they’ll give you what you ask for, but there’s always a price. And it never ends up being exactly what you thought it would be. They’ve their own way of thinking, their own way of testing a soul.” Rosalyn tugged lightly at the hair in her hand so Mairi would again turn her back. “I’ll try no to speak on the matter again but to say I’m grateful to have time with my favorite niece.”
“I will tell you as soon as I can.” Why hadn’t she remembered this twisted bit of Faerie lore thinking? Cate had told her many times of her own frustrations with not having been able to confide in Connor the full details of their situation at the time.
“I’m sure you will.” Rosalyn stopped fidgeting with Mairi’s hair long enough to enfold her in a hug. “For now, we’d best concentrate on how to explain yer being here. Blane and I have decided we’ll go along with yer guardian’s story. As far as anyone else will ken, yer my cousin’s daughter come to visit.” The woman shook her head as she once again busied her fingers with the braid. “We could hardly claim you as who you really are. Announcing yer return from the dead would be impossible, especially with you looking only a few years older than you did when you disappeared.”
Mairi nodded her agreement, still thinking of her aunt’s comments about the Fae. Pol had agreed to her demands rather easily. What kind of ulterior motive might the Fae Prince have? Her fingers lifted to touch the spot over her heart as she wondered what price he might want from their bargain.
“Nine,” she murmured, absently keeping up her end of the conversation. “I’ve been gone nine years. It’s difficult to imagine it’s been so long.”
“Nine, you say?” Rosalyn shook her head. “That just goes to show the wonder of the Fae, does it no? For you it’s been nine years; for us it’s been two score and three.”
Mairi knew that, had prepared for it. Had chosen the exact date she wanted to return. Still, discussing it with her aunt, hearing the words out loud, brought home the shock of what she had done.
Time travel.
“In some ways it feels as though it’s been only weeks, no years. Then again, I’m certainly no the same girl I was before.”
And may never be again.
“There,” Rosalyn said with apparent satisfaction as she patted Mairi’s hair. “All done and as bonny as ever I saw you.” Her hands on Mairi’s shoulders forced her niece to turn and look into her face. “It may be yer more yerself than you think, lass. Just the ‘you’ you’ve grown to be. Dinna fret. Now come with me.”
“What now?” Mairi took her aunt’s outstretched hand.
“Down to have yer midday meal and meet yer cousins. I’m fair anxious to have you see what Duncan and I accomplished while you were gone.” Rosalyn’s eyes twinkled proudly. “Did you ken you have cousins?”
“I did, and I’m anxious to meet them. And Duncan—is he here as well?”
A wistful expression crossed Rosalyn’s face. “No. I lost my beloved Duncan eight years ago. Blane insisted that we move here under his protection. He never forgot his promise to yer brother to look after me. The children were so young then, our oldest only twelve at the time. To accept Blane’s offer of protection seemed wise.”
“I’m so sorry. I dinna know.” Tears stung Mairi’s eyes as she threw her arms around her aunt, hugging the older woman tightly to her.
Duncan hadn’t shown up in the few documents she’d found but she had never connected that to his death. There were so few surviving documents from the time, she’d assumed that was why she’d found no mention of him.
The smallest trickle of dread raced through her mind. If she’d missed something as large as Duncan’s death, what else might she have missed?
Rosalyn sighed. “Dinna be sad for me, lass. I had the most wonderful fifteen years any woman can imagine with that man. And now I’ve three fine, strong sons and a lovely daughter to remind me of him for the rest of my days. Come along.” She pulled away and tugged at Mairi’s hand. “Let’s collect yer protector and go down.”
Her protector?
“Where is Ramos?” He’d reluctantly left earlier when Rosalyn had insisted they needed privacy to get Mairi ready to meet the family.
“From what I’ve seen of him so far, he’ll be verra close by. Especially if last night was any indication.”
“Last night?”
“Aye. After we finished with yer injury and put you to bed, Blane and I insisted that he leave yer room. We gave him the one directly next to you, but he stood guard outside through the day, and last night he slept in the hallway, propped against yer door.”
It would seem the man was serious about reaching hero status.
“Though he’s no from around here, he has the soul of a Highlander, that one.” Her aunt nodded as she pulled at the door, allowing Mairi to go first, but the opening was filled.
With Ramos.
He stood, his back to them, arms crossed, feet spread apart. He looked like a man ready for anything.
As the door opened, he glanced over his shoulder and scowled at her.
“About time. How long does it take one woman to get dressed? I’m so hungry I could eat greasy fish and chips from a street vendor.”
Really?
From what she remembered, Mairi suspected he’d be mighty happy to see one of those street vendors after a few meals in this century. She curved her lips into a brightly faked smile and shoved at his immobile back.
“Move it, then. Luncheon awaits.”
If he’d thought her smile suspiciously forced when they came down to eat, he knew the one she wore as she watched him now to be absolutely real.
Ramos picked at the food in front of him. Apparently seasoning hadn’t yet been invented in any form. The street vendors he’d disparaged earlier would run screaming from the room in abject horror at the presentation of this food, boiled and unrecognizable for the most part.
Even during his training in the Realm of Faerie he’d at least been able to identify what was placed in front of him.
Unbidden, a memory of the elaborate meals served by his staff back home at the chateau floated through his mind, but he brushed the thought away. That was a life he’d left behind.
All that mattered here was that he required nourishment, regardless of how it looked or tasted. And he’d learned to endure hardships of any nature during his training to be a Guardian. This was no more than a minor inconvenience at most.
He pasted a patient smile on his face and forced down another mouthful, scooping the gummy oats up with a chunk of bread as he saw the others do.
Mairi’s smile flickered as she did the same, a look of distaste fleeting across her lovely visage. It happened so quickly, he was sure no one else would have noticed. But he was watching, looking for her reaction. Somehow just knowing she wasn’t enjoying this any more than he was made it bearable.
“Cousin Mairi,” Caden, the eldest of Rosalyn’s sons called out, drawing everyone’s attention. “What is it that brings you so far north? You and yer…guardian?”
“I sought the opportunity to meet you all, to get to know my family.”
“Mairi’s mother and I were verra close as young lasses,” Rosalyn interrupted. “It only makes sense that Mairi would be sent to stay with me for a time.”
“But why now?” Caden pursued. “You never mentioned her or her mother to us before.”
“There’s many a thing I’ve no felt the need to mention to you, lad.”
“As to why—” Ramos drew the young man’s scrutiny from his mother. “It’s because her brother has charged me with the responsibility of taking her to my home. This will be her last opportunity to spend time with her family.” He was rather pleased with himself, both of his statements more or less the truth.
“I mean no offense, but why is it that her brother sends her off with you, a man who hardly looks old enough to be appointed her guardian? Why would he send her to yer home?”
“No offense is taken, I assure you. I was chosen because I owe a debt of honor—one too great to be easily repaid—and because I’ve sworn to her brother to see her safely through this journey. As to why she’s being sent to my home”—Ramos bit back a smile as a thought struck him—“it’s because she’s rather old and I’m to find her a husband.” No need to point out that their understanding of his duty as “guardian” was somewhat different from his own.
His statement was acknowledged with nodding heads around the table. Mairi’s wasn’t one of them. The smile he worked at hiding very nearly made an appearance when her foot connected sharply with his shin under the table. Apparently she wasn’t impressed with his spur-of-the-moment excuse.
She glared at him for an instant longer before she turned to the woman on her right, quickly engaging her in a conversation.
With Caden’s curiosity satisfied, Ramos returned to the food in front of him, taking the opportunity to study the others at the table, assessing strengths and weaknesses.
It was his gift, this being able to size someone up instantly. One look at their aura and he knew all about the basic makeup of that person. Good, bad or indifferent, it had always been useful. His father had been delighted when he’d first discovered Ramos possessed the gift. In fact, it was then, when he was about seven, that his father had insisted Ramos come to live with him. They had practiced the skill constantly, with his father having him use his inner sight on everyone who came to the villa.
Too bad he’d never thought to turn it on his father.
He wondered now what had happened to all those people he’d told his father meant him harm. He had never seen any of them again. It was likely Reynard would have had them killed.
More deaths laid at Ramos’s feet.
No, he wouldn’t allow himself to fall back into that depression. This was his opportunity to rectify some of his past mistakes. Perhaps to prevent many future ones.
As servants cleared one course and brought the next, Ramos leaned back in his chair and made an effort to relax his mind. Opening his inner sight, he concentrated on the faces around the table. The majority of them bore the mark of Faerie blood, though it was filtered, as though many centuries had passed and their line diluted.
Of the men, it would be almost impossible to miss the three who were brothers. While Blane bore similarities to Rosalyn and Mairi in his blond good looks, Rosalyn’s sons presumably took after their father. They were young, the oldest no more than twenty, but they were all large red-haired boys, though each head bore a slightly different shade of red. Unlike her brothers, the daughter was tiny in stature, with flaming red hair. Ramos had to look intently to find the incandescence in her at all. She hardly shone more than the young woman sitting next to her, a quiet girl with her brown hair severely pulled back into a tight braid. She wore a gown of plain gray, making him think of a large timid mouse, her eyes round and frightened when she did look up. The gold cross hanging around her neck was the only color about the girl. The mouse was betrothed to Caden, and she was clearly all Mortal.
Rosalyn, sitting near the head of the table, emitted a stronger glow than the others, yet nothing like the iridescent light shining from Mairi.
If Ramos didn’t know better, he’d think her a full Fae. There was no difference between her glow and those of the full-blooded Faeries he’d grown up around. Something to think on later.
All had auras tinged with determination, varying degrees of integrity, pride and bravery. No aura looked particularly evil or dangerous.
With his inner sight still open, he filtered the conversations from around the table, hoping to learn more.
Caden discussed sheep with Blane, both men intent on a feeding pattern the younger man had been developing. Nothing of interest there.
The younger sons, Andrew and Colin, whispered between them, casting occasional furtive glances at their mother and Blane. No doubt they were up to something. Whether it was something serious or merely young men’s pranks, they bore watching, though nothing he could see in their auras indicated anything more dangerous than youthful pride.
Emotion swept the room in a wave, causing Ramos to sharpen his observation. Whoever it came from, it was strong, for he rarely felt others’ emotions. A quick scan of the table told him it came from Marsali Rose, and it required no inner sight to discern her irritation. She glared at her brothers over the rim of her goblet. It would appear the girl had some knowledge of what the young men were up to.
Ramos lifted his own drink to his lips and lost the flow of his second sight as he gagged with surprise when the liquid hit his mouth. A bitter, heavily spiced wine coated his tongue.
He was no teetotaler by any means. He owned a winery, for God’s sake. But this early in the day? And a nasty version of the stuff at that. He sat the goblet back on the table, pushing it away.
Next to him, though she quickly turned her head, Mairi’s shoulders shook with repressed laughter. That explained the earlier grin. She’d been waiting for his reaction.
No napkins to be found. What was he thinking? This was the thirteenth century, after all. He wiped the back of his hand across his lips, removing the wine residue before leaning close to Mairi’s ear.
“Was that as good as you’d hoped for? You could have warned me, you know.”
She jumped, as if he’d surprised her by commenting. When she turned to look up at him, the blue of her eyes gleamed with mischievousness. Another attractive surprise from the learned Ms. MacKiernan.
If he ever got home again, he’d need to remember to look up the researcher who put together his information packet on Mairi. The man might work for her family’s company, might be a specialist in information gathering, but he certainly had omitted an awful lot about this woman.
On the other hand, filling in the gaps could prove to be quite interesting.
For someone else, he reminded himself. Not for him. His interest in Mairi MacKiernan was strictly professional.
His thoughts along that line were interrupted when all chatter at the table was silenced by Marsali’s slamming her goblet to the table, sloshing wine across the surface.
“I should have ken you both would be too much the coward to ask, but I’m no afraid.” She turned her glare from her brothers to her mother and Blane. “You promised you’d make up yer minds. You’ve kept us waiting for a fortnight now. Will you host the feast or no? Will you invite the man or no? We’ve only days till Saint Crispin’s.” Her entire body was rigid with anger.
“Saint Crispin’s Day?” The words seemed to slip out of Mairi, drawing her young cousin’s ire.
“Aye, Cousin. Saint Crispin’s Day. Surely even where yer from it comes every year?”
“Or do Longshanks’s people no observe the civilized holidays now?” The youngest boy, Colin, seemed bent on having his voice heard as well, his glare moving from Mairi to Ramos.
Ah, the political naïveté of youth.
“I wouldn’t know, boy. Edward isn’t my king.” Ramos decided this little pup needed to be put in his place.
“She’s from England.” The other half of the whispering duo, Andrew, pointed accusingly at Mairi.
“But not for long. As I said, she’ll be returning home with me. To Spain.” Ramos arched an eyebrow, giving the boys his haughtiest smile, and reached for his cup, remembering only at the last minute what the offensive vessel held.
Oh well, what we sacrifice for appearances’ sake.
He took a small sip and schooled his face not to reflect the distaste he felt. “Besides, she’s your kin. It’s your blood running through her veins. Or does that mean nothing to a Scotsman?”
Mairi’s hand came to rest on his forearm, her fingers tightening ever so slightly, as if to restrain him from pursuing this particular line of conversation. Perhaps she knew best.
“He’s right. They’re family. And what’s more, they’re our guests,” Caden growled at his brothers. “We’ll have no more from either of you, unless you want to settle it with me. In the lists.”
“My apologies, s-sir….” Andrew’s face was quitered as he stuttered to a stop.
“As your brother says, we’re all family here, or very close to it since I’m your cousin’s Guardian. Please call me Ramos.”
“My apologies, Ramos.” Though obviously embarrassed, Andrew did not waver his gaze.
“Mine as well,” the younger Colin muttered.
“If it helps at all, my king isn’t exactly fond of Edward, either.” From what little Ramos remembered of his Middle Ages history, Spain had been fragmented enough to make it a safe place to be from. And it would be quite some time before there were treaties between any of the Spanish rulers and King Edward I of England.
Both boys looked up, surprised interest in their eyes.
“All this blether will no distract me this time.” The angry little redhead stood, pushing her chair over in the process. “Tell me now. Give me yer decision.”
The mouse, sitting next to her, quickly bowed her head, crossing herself as if to ward off the demon of fury that possessed Marsali.
“Sit down, Sallie Rose,” her mother said wearily. “You can cease making a spectacle of yerself. We’ve already sent riders to announce the feast.”
“Oh.” The wind momentarily taken from her sails, she turned to right her chair and seat herself. “And when was I to be informed?”
Ramos studied the girl closely. She was…what had he read in Mairi’s research notes? Sixteen, the youngest of the cousins, all the siblings spaced one or two years apart. What he hadn’t found anywhere in those notes was that this girl, the very one Mairi had traveled seven centuries through time to save, was one spoiled little bitch.
It would appear that Mairi hadn’t known that tidbit of information, either, he realized as he watched her eyes widen with comprehension.
“There was no reason to inform you earlier, Sallie.” Blane smiled indulgently at the girl. “And dinna glare at yer mother so. It was my decision as laird.” He nodded as if that were the end of that.
The girl pressed her lips together tightly for a moment before she continued. “Did you invite him? Did you even respond to his request?” Her emphasis on the word was unmistakable.
A look passed between Blane and Rosalyn before he replied. “I sent a messenger bearing our invitation.”
“Is he coming?”
“An invitation has been sent in response to his request for an audience. We’ll have to wait and see, lass, whether or no the man chooses to come to the feast. Now let that be the last of it.”
Marsali looked down at her food for a moment before knocking it off the table in a sweeping gesture of her arm. She jumped up from her seat and ran to the doorway, turning at the last moment with tear-filled eyes.
“You dinna want him here. It’s no even about his defiance of Edward. You dinna want me ever to meet anyone exciting. You’ll keep me locked away here until I’m like her.” She pointed Mairi’s direction. “Too old for anyone to ever want to wed.”
Next to him, Mairi seemed to choke on a drink of her wine, coughing as she put her cup back on the table.
Hands on her hips, Sallie stamped her delicate little foot, turned and ran to the stairs, weeping loudly.
Quiet reigned in her wake, broken only by Caden’s little mouse nervously clearing her throat, her eyes closed as her lips moved furiously.
Blane sighed. “My apologies, dear cousins, that you had to sit through that. Our Sallie is a bit”—he paused and looked at Rosalyn, who rolled her eyes—“high strung.”
Caden snorted, drawing a glare from Blane.
Only great self-control kept Ramos from shaking his head. That dramatic little exit had convinced him of the accuracy of his earlier opinion. Spoiled, selfish women were one of the things Ramos had learned early on to go out of his way to avoid, thanks to personal experience with his father’s courtesan, Adira. He’d had no choice but to deal with her in his childhood. He’d sworn never to do so willingly again. He had no patience for them.
Yet here he was, Guardian to a woman who thought to risk her own life to save one such as this. He had an overwhelming desire to spit the vile taste of truth from his mouth.
Instead he took another drink of the vinegar these people called wine and looked around the table, searching. There was something nagging at the outer edges of his Fae senses. Something he’d missed. Something important.
Again he studied the faces in the room, their emotions still extraordinarily intense as they quietly finished the meal.
Mairi muttered something to herself about Saint Crispin’s being a problem. He filed that away to check into later.
Servants bustled back and forth clearing the table. Caden and Blane rose, continuing their sheep discussion as if they’d never been interrupted as they left the room.
“Lady Rosalyn?”
She turned to him with an inquisitive smile when he addressed her.
“Who exactly is it that your daughter so desperately wants invited to this party you’re hosting?”
Rosalyn’s mouth tightened perceptibly and she glanced toward her two younger sons who remained at the table. Their conversation stopped immediately and they stared at their mother.
Ramos watched as she dropped an emotional curtain over her face, hiding whatever her real feelings might be. The more he saw of this woman, the more he found to admire in her.
“He’s the man who will be living at Sithean Fardach for a time. He and his people.”
“He’s no just any man,” Andrew interrupted. “He’s the patriot who’s come to unite us against that tyrant, Longshanks.”
“For pity’s sake, lad. He canna be a patriot. He’s no even a Scotsman,” Rosalyn snapped before catching herself. The tight, thin line of her lips told Ramos she and her sons had been over this ground before.
“And his name?” Ramos pursued, knowing he was on the right track now. The pieces were so close to slipping into place, he could feel it.
“Duke Servans of the Swiss House of Servans,” Andrew answered for his mother, his voice hushed with reverence, his eyes gleaming with excitement.
“Damnation.” It left Mairi’s lips on a whisper of breath, so quiet no one would have recognized it for more than a sigh.
Except Ramos. He heard and understood.
He couldn’t have said it better himself.