“You want to go back?”
Kira’s astonishment was great as she slowly closed the door of the Heatherbrae behind her. She set down the glossy monthly, Scotland Today, that she’d brought back from the Ravenscraig library. She stared at Aidan, her initial euphoria on hearing him declare he wanted to return to his time, giving way to queasiness and dry mouth now that she looked at him more carefully.
Something had changed.
And it wasn’t good.
He no longer looked like Aidan-out-of-water, but the fierce laird of Wrath she knew so well from his own time.
His jaw was set in a formidable line and his eyes blazed. Most telling of all, he’d strapped on Invincible.
Crossing the cottage’s little sitting area, Kira slid her arms around him. “What’s wrong? What’s happened?” She looked up at him, not surprised when he disentangled himself and started pacing. “Why do you want to go back now? I know things aren’t ideal, but we just arrived here.”
“It’s no’ that I want to go back, though, the gods know I do.” He whirled to face her, his expression giving her chills. “We must. According to your history books, our leaving caused Tavish’s death.”
Kira’s eyes widened. “What?” She pressed a hand to her breast, shock welling up within her. “How can that be?”
She was so stunned, she couldn’t think clearly.
Aidan disappeared into the bedroom, returning a moment later with an armful of books. Dumping them onto a tartan-upholstered armchair, he snatched up one and began flipping through its pages.
“Here! The lines in the middle of the page.” He thrust the book at her, pointing to a brief paragraph on page 57. “Read it and you’ll understand.”
Kira looked down at the clear black print, her stomach dropping as she read the words. “Oh, God.” She tossed down the book, feeling ill. A terrible chill washed through her and her knees weakened. She met Aidan’s gaze, horrified. “Conan Dearg slew Tavish while escaping Wrath’s dungeon? Then drowned? With that MacLeod woman?”
“So the books say.” Aidan folded his arms. “All of them. Even that windbag, Wee Hughie’s. Some just say Conan Dearg killed the laird of Wrath, but the result is the same. After we left, Tavish took my place. Had we remained, he would still be alive.”
“And you’d be dead.” She didn’t like that possibility either.
Not at all.
Aidan snorted. “Nae. Conan Dearg would be dead, and by my sword. No’ from drowning.”
Kira dropped onto a chair. “I don’t get the drowning part. Or the connection with that awful woman.”
“That’s because you don’t know my cousin. Or Fenella MacLeod.” He gave her an alpha-male look, all medieval chieftain again. “I wouldn’t be one of the most respected warrior lairds in the Highlands if the answer weren’t clear to me.”
Kira looked at him. It wasn’t clear to her at all.
“It is simple, lass.” He picked up Mara McDougall Douglas’s welcome decanter of single malt and poured himself a hefty dram. He started to pour a second measure for her, but she waved a hand to stop him. Tossing down his own whisky in one quick swig, he wiped his mouth. “If you knew Lady Fenella, you’d understand. She devours men faster than I just swallowed that whisky. Conan Dearg will have attracted her like a lodestone. Especially since she was grieved with me.”
“She didn’t like you?” Kira lifted a brow.
“She liked me too much. Some while before you came to Wrath, she visited, offering her men and her fleet of longships to help me to search for Conan Dearg.” He paused to run a hand through his hair, a look of distaste passing over his face. “She offered me other services as well. You’ll ken what they were. When I declined, she left in a fury.”
“You think she then hooked up with your cousin? To get back at you?”
He nodded. “I’d bet my sword that was the way of it. I should have thought of suchlike before, but I was distracted.”
Kira swallowed. She knew he meant her. “I still don’t understand the drowning part. Especially if the MacLeod woman is supposed to have drowned with him.”
“I can only guess, but I’d vow Lady Fenella helped him escape at some point during the feast and they tried to leave Wrath Bay in her galley.” Coming over to her, he placed his hands on her shoulders. “Tavish and I suspected her of damaging her own craft as a ploy to pull up on my landing beach. If her flight with Conan Dearg caused as much confusion as I suspect it might have, and my men pursued them, in the rush to get away, she may have set sail in her own galley rather than taking one of mine as I imagine she’d planned to do.”
“You think her boat sank?” Kira blinked up at him. “As they tried to sail away?”
“I was told when she arrived that there was quite a hole gouged in her galley’s hull. They wouldn’t have made it past Wrath Isle if they sought to flee in such a vessel.”
Kira shuddered. “If this is true, I’ll bet she was behind my poisoning.”
“I thought the same,” he agreed, again shoving a hand through his hair. “Though if she’d been slipping into Wrath to visit Conan Dearg, or harm you, someone there must’ve been helping her.”
“That has to be how your cousin got up onto the arch that night.” Kira bit her lip, a hundred thoughts churning in her head. “I suspected he’d somehow learned about me. How I got there. Someone must’ve helped him sneak out of the dungeon so he could examine the top of the arch.”
“Indeed. You’re a wise lassie.” A touch of admiration lit his eyes. “Poor Kendrew must’ve startled him, and suffered the consequences.”
“But who would’ve helped your cousin?” Kira couldn’t wrap her mind around it. “Your men can’t stand him. And the women, those laundresses-” She broke off, suspicion making her breath catch. “Do you think one of them did it?”
He frowned. “Help my cousin?” He started pacing again, rubbing the back of his neck as he walked. “Could be. I’ve told you, Conan Dearg exerts a weird influence on women. But I can’t see any of the laundresses doing Lady Fenella any favors.”
Stopping by the table, he helped himself to another dram of whisky. “It doesn’t matter, Kee-rah.” Confidence rolled off him. If she didn’t know better, she’d have sworn he’d grown several inches. That his powerful shoulders had gone even wider. He looked at her, his expression fierce. “Now that I know what to be wary of, I’ll get to the bottom of the matter when we go back. Hopefully we can get there the same night we left. If so, I’m sure I can save Tavish.”
Kira’s heart sank. “Oh, dear,” she said, half certain the shadows in the room had just deepened, turning as dark as the blackness she felt bearing down on them. Her gaze slid to the little pine table by the door. The slick and colorful issue of Scotland Today lying on the tabletop. “I don’t think we can get back.”
She hadn’t wanted to say so yet, but now, watching and listening to him talk about saving his friend, she couldn’t keep quiet any longer. “The gatehouse arch-”
“Worked once and will serve us again.” He set down the little crystal dram glass. “You just need to left-drive us back to Wrath. We’ll leave in the morning, as soon as you’ve said your farewells to your family and friends.”
“You don’t understand.” Kira pressed her fingers to her temples. “It won’t matter if we go back to Skye. Even if we did, we wouldn’t be able to get to the arch-top. Not even the outermost ruins of your castle.”
He looked at her, uncomprehending.
“The site’s under construction,” she tried to explain, pushing to her feet. Going to the little table near the door, she grabbed the Scotland Today and waved it at him. “It’s all in here. You can even see pictures. The news will surely be splashed across the Internet, too. In the months I’ve been away, Wrath has gone to the National Trust for Scotland. That’s a historical preservation society and they’re currently developing the ruins into a tourist exhibition. They-”
“A what?” He stared at her, the blood draining from his face. “You mean a place overrun with Ameri-cains and tour buses?”
Kira nodded, her heart breaking that she had to tell him. “Mother said they tried to go there weeks ago when they first arrived, but it’s all roped off and guarded. Even at night. No one can set foot on the property.”
“I see.” He looked at her, all the flash and gleam in his eyes, vanished. “Put that thing away, Kee-rah,” he said, glancing at the magazine in her hands. “And dinnae go fetching the like on your Internet whate’er. I dinnae want to see the images. No’ now.”
Turning away from her, he went to the cottage’s front window. The one with the view of Mara McDougall Douglas’s One Cairn Village memorial cairn. Its stones and great Celtic cross shimmered silvery-blue in the pale luminosity of the late summer night, the beauty of it piercing Kira to her soul.
Aidan seemed to be staring at cairn. His shoulders sagged more the longer he stood there, stiff and silent, his hands clenched at his sides.
Kira moved to join him, but stopped halfway there, her stare shooting past him to the big memorial cairn, a smile splitting her heart as she made the connection.
“Oh, God!” she cried, starting to tremble. “I know what we can do!”
Aidan whipped around, the hope on his face making her spirit soar. “You know of another time portal, Kee-rah? Another way we can return?”
“I might.” She couldn’t lie to him. “Let’s say there’s a chance. If” – she snatched Wee Hughie’s book off the chair and thumbed through its pages until she found what she needed – “we go here! The Na Tri Shean.”
His brows shot upward. “That accursed place?”
Kira nodded. “My boss, Dan Hillard, had reason to believe the cairns there aren’t just faery mounds, but a portal to the Other World and all places beyond and between. A time portal, yes.” She held the book beneath his nose, forcing him to look at the black and white photograph of the three piles of stone on their hill. “If we go there, maybe, just maybe, we can get back to Wrath.”
“Cnoc Freiceadain – the Na Tri Shean – is far from here, Kee-rah.” He rubbed his forehead. “Getting there would mean crossing almost the whole of Scotland.”
“Does it matter?” She tossed aside the book and wrapped her arms around him, squeezing tight. “It’s our only chance.”
He drew a deep breath, hugging her back. “Then we shall seize it. I owe Tavish no less.”
“We both owe him.” Kira leaned her head against his shoulder, knowing that was true. “I can’t wait to see the look on his face when he sees you.”
That he might not was something she wouldn’t consider.
After all, as Mara McDougall Douglas had said, Scotland was a place of miracles.
It was after nightfall the next day by the time they passed through the tiny hamlet of Shebster in Scotland’s far north and finally reached the great grass-grown hill that held the three long-chambered cairns known as the Na Tri Shean. A stout, rib-sticking full Scottish breakfast, a swift, but emotional farewell from George and Blanche Bedwell and their hosts at Ravenscraig, along with hope, sheer will, and a seemingly endless ribbon of narrow, winding Highland roads had brought them here. Now, turning off the ignition at last, Kira had to struggle to hide her disappointment.
Dan’s supposed time portal par excellence proved nondescript.
Little more than a huge, treeless hill stood before them, outlined against the eerily light late summer night sky. The hill’s summit showed the telltale faery mounds, said to date back to the third millennium BC. But rather than the massive, well-defined cairns she’d expected, only a scattered jumble of boulders and stones showed that anything really significant had once stood there.
Getting out of the car, Kira pushed back her shoulders and glanced at Aidan. “Not very impressive, h’mmm? I’m sorry. I thought-”
“You are thinking like a woman who no longer believes in magic, Kee-rah.” Tossing back his plaid, he whipped out Invincible and held its blade to the soft, silver-glowing sky. At once, the combined light of the bright, crescent moon and the pale northern sun caught the sword’s edge, making its cold, hard steel shine and glow like a living thing. “The power of a place like this remains through time and eternity. It matters little that the man-made cairns are tumbled.” He reached for her hand, then started forward, up the hill. “Besides, the stones only marked what was beneath. It is there, deep under the earth, that we must go.”
“Under the ground?” Kira stopped, digging in her heels. Suddenly the great, grassy hill no longer looked so harmless. “What are you saying?”
He glanced at her, his dark eyes glittering in the strange, silvery-blue light. “I thought you knew what long-chambered cairns are.”
Kira swallowed, not wanting to admit she hadn’t given it that much thought. At least not as far as entering the cairns and going down into the cold, dark earth.
“I will be with you, Kee-rah. You needn’t fear.” He traced his knuckles down the curve of her cheek. “Now, come. Get out your flashlight, or whate’er you call it, and help me look for an entrance. There should be three. They’ll be low in the ground, and perhaps hidden by rocks or underbrush. I doubt it matters which cairn we enter. The magic will be powerful in each.”
Hoping he was right, Kira fished the flashlight out of her backpack and let him pull her higher up the grassy slope. They found an entrance quickly, and with surprising ease. The dark, low-linteled opening seemed to stare right at them, an impenetrable-looking black hole in the hillside, its contours softened by thick-growing underbrush.
It was also painfully small.
A rabbit hole she doubted either one of them could squeeze into.
Her stomach tightening, she flicked on the flashlight and aimed it into the darkness. A few moss-covered stone steps gleamed weakly in the narrow band of light. Nothing else was discernible except the narrowness of the dank, low-ceilinged entry.
“I don’t think anyone above four feet can get down those steps.” She turned to Aidan, sure he’d agree. “Especially not you.”
To her surprise, he simply shoved Invincible back into its scabbard and stretched his arms, flexing his fingers. “Once we’ve mastered the steps and crept through the long passage, we’ll come to the inner chamber, Kee-rah. We’ll be able to stand upright then, you’ll see. It willnae be so bad.”
He pulled her close, tightening his arms around her before he released her and grabbed the flashlight. “Come, now,” he said, ducking low and stepping into the darkness. “Follow close behind me and keep your head down. Dinnae straighten until I tell you.”
Then he was gone, the blackness swallowing him as he descended deeper into the cairn.
“Oh, God.” Kira threw one last glance at the parked rental car, then dipped her head to hurry after him.
Cold, damp, and silence slammed into her, the smell of earth and old stone.
Catching up with Aidan, she grabbed the back of his plaid. She needed all her focus to keep her feet from slipping on the steep, mossy steps. Then, before she knew it, they’d reached the bottom and were crouching along a tight, cobbled passage, its walls seeming to grow more constricting the farther they went.
“We’re almost there, Kee-rah.” Aidan’s voice echoed in the darkness. “Dinnae be afraid.”
Then he was straightening, pulling her up with him and wrapping a strong arm around her waist, holding her close. They were in a small, oval-shaped chamber with high, stone-slabbed walls and a corbelled ceiling. Kira thought she saw a few tipped-over urns and the remains of an ancient-looking fire, but before she could be certain, Aidan clicked off the flashlight.
“I dinnae think it’s wise to use your light now, sweetness. No’ in a place sacred to the Old Ones.” He took her hand, easing her down onto the cold stone floor beside him. He gathered her against him, keeping their fingers tightly laced. “We’ll just sit here and think of Wrath and hope the magic works.”
In the silence, she heard the soft hiss of Invincible leaving its sheath, then the rustle of his plaid as he settled the great sword across his knees. Its pommel stone glowed a faint red in the darkness, but all else was black. A deep, cloying blackness that suddenly zoomed in on them, then snapped back, exploding into a wild, spinning vortex of bright, eye-piercing color.
Icy wind rushed past them and the ground shook, tilting crazily as the tornado-like wind swirled faster. Kira’s skirts flew up into her face, covering her head until she yanked them down.
“Aidan – my clothes!” She grabbed his arm, digging her fingers into him. “My medieval clothes are back!” She twisted around, straining to see him, but where he should have been, was only a flash of a black and wild glen, the kind that could have been inhabited by witches and demons. Lightning crackled and zished across the chamber’s ceiling, booming thunder splitting her ears.
“Wha-” she cried out, but the image vanished instantly, replaced by a young girl in peasant’s clothing, a willow-wand basket clutched to her hip.
The girl disappeared, too, swept away before Kira even really saw her. More images followed, each one whizzing past at light-speed, whirling and whirling, the colors and roar of the wind, making her dizzy.
“Kee-rah! Hold on, lass!” Aidan’s voice rose above the chaos.
Kira felt his arm tighten around her, almost squeezing the breath from her as a yelling, helmeted Viking war band sped past them, followed immediately by quick glimpse into the splendor of a Victorian great hall, complete with dark-paneled walls hung with stag heads, weaponry, and gilt-framed portraits. A swirl of cloud and mist came next, then a broad, open stretch of empty moorland, thick with heather and broom.
A field of daffodils, giving way to the sudden skirl of bagpipes as an army of Highlanders crested a hill, their swords glinting in brilliant sunshine, their banners streaming in the wind.
Then the cloud and mist returned, the loud wail of the pipes melting into the darkness, leaving only cold and silence. The soft red glow of Invincible’s pommel stone and the distant howls of a dog.
“By my soul! That’s Ferlie.” Aidan shot to his feet, pulling her up beside him. “Kee-rah, sweet, it’s over. We’ve made it. We’re on the arch.”
Kira kept her death grip on his arm, her heart pounding. “Thank God!” She glanced at him, a thrill of hope and gratitude racing through her. “But do you think it’s real? Not like all those images that just whirled past?”
“Och, this is Wrath, aye.” Aidan laughed. “Sure as I’m standing here. I can even see my men patrolling the far side of the parapet walk. And the ladder, it’s still here, propped against the gatehouse, just as we left it.”
Kira swallowed, her entire body trembling with relief. Joy swept her when she followed Aidan’s gaze. Indeed, the top of the ladder peeped up over the edge of the arch. And there really were two burly-looking guards pacing along on the opposite wall-walk. Ross and Geordie, if she wasn’t mistaken. Invincible rested on the smooth stone of the arch-top, the red gleam of its pommel now matched by the flickering orange-red glow of the smokehouse fires down on the landing beach.
They were home.
“Come, lass, I’ve a score to settle.” Aidan snatched up his sword, sheathing it, before he turned toward the ladder. “Let’s hope we’re no’ too late.”
Scrambling down, he held up his arms for her, helping her descend. He threw a quick glance through the swirling mist toward his keep, relieved to see torchlight glimmering at the window slits. With luck, the feasting would still be in full swing, his cousin yet locked in his dungeon cell.
They pounded across the cobbles and burst into the hall. Aidan skidded to a halt, disbelief stopping his heart. Instead of being full of stir and turmoil, shouts and laughter, the hall was empty. No one sat at the rows of long tables. On the dais, his overturned laird’s chair and a toppled bench indicated a hasty departure. As did the many filled trenchers and ale cups, the still burning candles in the silver candelabrums.
Aidan’s blood ran cold.
Now he knew why the hall door had stood wide and poor Ferlie howled somewhere, deep in the bowels of the castle.
The other castle dogs were gone, though by straining his ears, he heard them now. Barking in the distance, along with the muffled cries of men. A woman’s sudden piercing wail, the sound making his gut clench.
“Guidsakes! It’s happening!” He grabbed Kira’s hand, pulling her with him from the hall, racing to the low arched door that led to the dungeon. “Tavish!” he roared, shouting as they ran. “Hold, man! We’re coming!”
But when they rushed down the dark, narrow stair and reached Conan Dearg’s cell, the heavy, iron-bound door stood cracked. A fresh-looking pool of blood near threshold left no doubt as to what transpired.
“Oh, no-o-o!” Beside him, Kira clapped a hand to her throat, her face paling as she stared at the blood. “We’re too late.”
“Nae! Dinnae say it.” Aidan whipped around, pressing his hand against her lips. “It could be my cousin’s blood. It must be. I’ll no’ allow otherwise!”
Kira looked at him, her stomach clenching. “Then they’ll be down at the shore – the drowning part.”
“That’ll be the way of it,” he agreed, already sprinting down the fetid passage. “Pray the gods we get there on time.”
Streaking after him, Kira kept a hand pressed to her ribs, half afraid her heart would jump right through them if she didn’t. Aidan almost scared her. Never had she seen him look so savage.
So deadly.
He shot up the stairs and through the hall with explosive speed, gripping his sword hilt as he ran, not breaking stride until they’d crossed the bailey and neared the small postern door in the curtain walling. As at Conan Dearg’s cell, they found the door ajar. Ferlie paced to and fro in front of the opening, howling and fretting, his lame back legs keeping him from bounding down the cliff steps to the landing beach below.
“He’s no’ dead, Ferlie-lad,” Aidan reassured the dog, pausing just long enough at the top of the steps to reach again for Kira’s hand. “I can see him! Tavish. And my cousin.” He glanced at her, his eyes wild, blazing. “They’re at the water’s edge, fighting.”
And they were. Kira saw them now as well. Aidan’s men and a pack of crazed, barking dogs crowded the little beach, Tavish and Conan Dearg going at each other in the middle of a small, cleared circle. She saw, too, that the reddish-orange glow she’d noticed from the arch wasn’t caused by the shore-side smokehouses, but came from the torches many of Aidan’s men held above their heads. The flames gave the scene a hellish tint, the men’s shouts and the clashing shriek of steel meeting steel, filling her with terror.
In Wrath Bay, a lone galley sped seaward, its hoisted sail declaring the MacLeod colors, the widow’s face as she stood clutching the rail, bathed as red as the torch flames. Her raven hair streamed in the night wind and her galley was already beginning to flounder, lurching heavily to one side as it raced towards the rocks of Wrath Isle.
“Oh, God,” Kira cried as they flew down the steep, cliff-side steps. “It’s just like you said it would be! That boat’s going to hit those rocks any minute, and Tavish-”
“… is holding his own,” Aidan panted as they tore down the last few steps and leapt onto the pebbly beach, “and I’m about to relieve him!”
Aidan wrenched Invincible from its scabbard. Men leapt back, freeing a path as he ran across the beach, sword raised, fury in his eye. Ahead, Tavish and Conan Dearg circled each other, blades arcing and slashing, both men blood-stained and sweating.
His own sword already lashing, Aidan hurled himself at his cousin, sweeping Invincible in a great, eye-blinding figure of eight motion. “Conan Dearg!” he roared, “‘tis time for a reckoning!”
“A mercy!” Tavish spun around, his eyes flying wide. “Aidan!” he cried, his relief evident. “You’re here! I dinnae believe it!”
The distraction cost him. Quick as lightning, Conan Dearg lunged, swinging his blade in a wide arc that would’ve lopped off Tavish’s head if Aidan hadn’t whirled round, kicking Tavish so hard he flew back against the wall of gathered men.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Mundy catch him, seizing Tavish’s sword and tossing it aside. He then snaked a quick arm around Tavish’s waist, holding him so he couldn’t rush back into the circle.
“So it comes down to the two of us!” Conan Dearg taunted, Tavish forgotten. “I’ve waited long for the day!”
“It is the day you die, Cousin.” Aidan lunged, taking a first cut on Conan Dearg’s arm. “Breathe your last while you can.”
Conan Dearg laughed and came at him, his sword glinting red in the torchlight as it crashed against Aidan’s with a loud, arm-jarring clank. With a ferocious burst of strength, Aidan knocked him back, grunting with satisfaction when Conan Dearg lost his footing on the slick shingle, his blade nearly flying from his hand.
Aidan smiled, advancing before Conan Dearg could right himself. “You’re tired, clumsy. Come, let me help you find rest!”
“A pox on you!” Conan Dearg yelled, swaying on his feet. “You will rue-”
“That I didn’t do this years ago!” Aidan finished, ramming Invincible deep into his cousin’s chest. Hoisting him in the air, he snarled, “May you find the Devil good company.”
Conan Dearg stared at him, his eyes bulging, a trickle of blood bubbling from his lips. Glaring at him, Aidan withdrew his blade and resheathed it, grabbing his cousin before he could topple to the ground.
With a great heave, he pushed him into the surf, dusting his hands as Conan Dearg landed with a splash, a flicker of life still gleaming in his eyes as he stared up at Aidan.
“So you die by drowning,” Aidan informed him, stepping closer to the water’s edge. “As the history books decried.”
“The history books?” Tavish spoke at his shoulder, looking on as Conan Dearg went limp, his eyes glazing as the tide claimed him.
Aidan drew a deep breath, then slung an arm around his friend, pulling him close. “I’ll explain later,” he panted, releasing Tavish to drag his sleeve over his forehead. “After I’ve seen to whoe’er poisoned Kee-rah.” He glanced round at his men, raising his voice when they pressed closer, their cheers and shouts loud in his ears. “Or do you think it was Conan Dearg? Fenella?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Kira finally managed to push through the circle of men. She ran forward, flinging herself into Aidan’s arms. “All that counts is that we’re back here and Tavish is safe.”
Tavish gave a great bark of laughter. “Safe? Me?” Grinning, he jammed his hands on his hips. “I could say the same to the two of you. Sakes, but I’ve worried about you.”
“We were fine.” Aidan drew Kira against him, smoothed the hair away from her face. “A mere day’s journeying. Naught more.” He looked down at her, kissed her brow. “Aye, lass?”
“There were moments.” She leaned into him, lifting her hand to his face, stroking his cheek. “I’m just so glad we made it back.”
Tavish thwacked Aidan on the shoulder. “I’d hear all about it, regardless.”
But Aidan didn’t answer him, his gaze sliding away to probe the crowd, searching faces and finding two missing. Nils, whose fierce Viking looks and great height should have had him standing head and shoulders over the fray. And Maili. She was notably absent from where the other two laundresses stood with a small group of kitchen laddies.
A dark suspicion made his jaw clench. “Love-of-thunder.” He looked over Kira’s head to Tavish. “Dinnae tell me Nils or Maili had aught to do with all this?”
“Not Nils,” Tavish said, no longer smiling. “It was Maili. She helped them, though you should know she’s the one who warned me of their escape when Fenella disappeared from the hall not long after you left. Maili followed her and-”
“Maili?” Aidan’s jaw dropped. “But she helped us get away when she dumped the oysters and herring into Fenella’s lap.” Glancing to the sea, he shuddered. The MacLeod galley was almost gone, its wreckage gleaming dully on the choppy waves. “I cannae believe Maili would-”
“She did it for love of a man.” Tavish looked uncomfortable. “Apparently, she’d set her sights on one of Fenella’s men. The widow promised she’d arrange a marriage between them, in exchange for Maili’s help in slipping in and out of Wrath. And, aye, serving Kira poisoned wine.”
Aidan shook his head. “But she helped you,” he repeated, puzzled.
“To be sure,” Tavish agreed. “She also confronted the widow a few days before the feast, demanding to know about the supposed marriage pact. Fenella laughed at her, claiming no MacLeod would lower himself by wedding a laundress.”
“I see.” Aidan nodded. “Where is she now?”
“In your solar, with Nils. He’s looking after her.” Tavish shoved a hand through his hair, let out a breath. “Maili followed Fenella into the dungeon and they argued. Fenella dirked her in the ribs in front of Conan Dearg’s cell. It was Maili’s cry that alerted us to their escape. She then told us everything, before she lost consciousness.”
Aidan frowned. “Will she live?”
Tavish shrugged. “Nils says there is a chance. But she’ll need care. You may not want-”
“Give her the best care possible.” Kira pulled out of Aidan’s arms. She glanced up at the keep, high on the cliff. When she turned back to him, she stood straighter, squared her shoulders. “Nothing happened to me, not really. And she did help us get away.”
Aidan looked at her. “You dinnae mind, Kee-rah? The monkshood could have killed you.”
“But it didn’t.” She smiled and blinked at him, her eyes starting to mist and her throat closing. “I doubt she’ll do anything like that again. Besides, I can understand a woman’s desperation to win the man she loves.” Swiping a hand across her cheek, she lifted her chin. “How can I not when I might have done the same? If I thought it was the only way to win your heart.”
“Och, lass.” Aidan reached for her, crushing her to him. “I lost my heart to you that day I saw you at the top of my stair tower. As I have told you!”
“A-hem.” Tavish tapped his arm, interrupting just as Aidan was about to kiss her. “There’s one more thing.”
Aidan glared at him. “By all the living gods! What is it?”
“This.” His smile returning, Tavish reached beneath his plaid and withdrew a small black object. Two cylinderlike rolls, topped with double rounds of bright, clear-shining glass. “I found this buried in the floor rushes in Conan Dearg’s cell. I dinnae know what it is, but-”
“My dad’s field glasses!” Kira grabbed them, her heart pounding. “Oh, Aidan! Conan Dearg must’ve found them on the arch. That night Kendrew saw him crawling around up there. They must be-”
“The strange object he used to hit Kendrew on the head with.” Aidan took them from her, eyeing them curiously. He looked into the glass part, dropping them at once. “By thunder!” he cried, bending to pick them up again. He peered into them once more, but from the other end.
This time he smiled.
“Another mystery solved.” He handed them to Tavish. “Now we know what Conan Dearg meant when he said he’d ‘see his foes coming before any battle could begin’.”
Tavish nodded, looking equally pleased. “I thought the same when I found them. Now we shall enjoy that advantage. Woe be to our enemies!”
“And woe be to my men if they don’t soon clear the beach and hie themselves back to the feast.” Aidan reached for Kira’s hand, linking their fingers. “I’d have a few quiet moments with my lady before we rejoin you.”
“As you wish.” Tavish nodded, his smile broadening to a grin when his gaze dipped to their matching gold rings. “Dare I hope the remainder of the feast might be spent celebrating something other than Conan Dearg’s demise?”
“You might.” Aidan’s voice was rough and husky, his words gruff. “Now get the men up to the keep before I lose patience.”
Tavish laughed, but did as he was bid.
Alone at last, Aidan took a deep breath. “So, lass…” He lifted her hand, pressed a kiss into her palm. “Shall we give my brave men something to celebrate?”
Kira blinked, her throat too thick for words.
“Well?” He looked at her. “Dinnae tell you’re wishing a longer wooing period? No’ now, after all we’ve been through together?”
She swallowed. “Aidan MacDonald, if you’re asking me to marry you, you know I’d love nothing more, but-”
“But?” He frowned. “That’s another thing you should know by now. I dinnae care for buts. Though” – he stepped back and folded his arms, looking quite the fearsome laird again – “something tells me I ought to hear this one.”
Kira looked down, nudging her toe into the pebbles. “It’s just that….” She let the words tail off, met his gaze. Her worry was squeezing her soul, making it so hard to speak. “Well,” she tried again, “you know I’ve always felt that I was sent back in time to save you?”
He nodded.
“Now that I have, and everything’s been resolved, I’m wondering if I won’t soon be zapped back to my own time.”
“Kee-rah.” His frown deepening, he lifted her chin. “That willnae happen. Your place is here with me. I know it.”
“How can you?”
He smiled. “Because you are my tamhasg, that’s why.”
Kira’s brows lifted. “Your what?”
“Och, lass.” He drew her into his arms again, kissing her. “I ne’er believed you were sent here to save me. That, too, I’ve told you. MacDonald men dinnae need lassies to rescue them. We’re together because we were meant to be. That’s what a tamhasg is.”
This time Kira frowned. “I don’t understand.”
He laughed and kissed her again, this time long and deep. “Then I’ll speak plainly,” he said at last, pulling back to smile at her. “A tamhasg is the sighting of a future bride or groom. I knew you were mine not long after seeing you that first time. I’ve always known it and it’s why I know time isn’t going to whisk you away from me.”
“Oh, Aidan.” She blinked, unable to say more.
Not that it mattered.
She could see in his eyes that he knew how happy he’d just made her.
Proving it, he grinned and offered her his arm. “Come, sweetness, shall we go share our good news with my men?”
Kira nodded, not about to say no.