Dawn Marie Hamilton - Highland Gardens (6 page)

Present day

Anderson Creek, North Carolina

I
sobell
froze at the sound of the familiar, brusque voice. Eyes of the coldest blue
bore into her. Eyes she thought to never see again.
Patrick MacLachlan
.

How could
he
be here in this place of
magic?

Archibald’s twin, the man from many an anxious
dream, strode forward, wearing the strangest garments. Blue
trews
of an
unusual cloth and a black tunic, stretched tight over a broad chest, leaving
thick arms mostly bare, even though it snowed.

How much he looked like Archibald. Isobell took a
step back, clutching the sword.

“Easy.” He approached, hands and arms hanging
loose at his sides. “Put the sword down, lass.”

“Patrick, who’s there?” Lady Laurie, also wearing
unusual garments though with a
plaide
wrapped around her shoulders,
brushed past her husband and stopped abruptly. “Isobell?”

“W-why are you in f-faerieland? I thought you
lived in France.” Isobell’s teeth chattered and then she started to shake. The
sword dropped from numb fingers and the lady she once despised for stealing her
betrothed enveloped her within comforting arms and hugged her close.

“We need to get her out of the cold, Patrick. Take
care of that, will you?” Lady Laurie pointed at the sword lying in the snow.
“Come, Isobell, you’ll be warmer inside.”

They entered a small structure with walls made of
glass, full of verdant foliage of an unusual nature, and blooms of many
colors—white, green, yellowish-green, cream, yellow, brown, pink, and even
red—a marvel for the senses filled with enchanting fragrance.

Moist warmth melted the icy cold of her skin.
Isobell snapped shut a gaping mouth. “What is this place?”

Patrick joined them, minus the sword. “Before we
go into that, perhaps you can tell us how you came to be here.”

“’Tis a long story.”

“I am sure.” Patrick arched a brow.

“Well, I…” Isobell ran a finger over a smooth
leaf, wondering where to begin. Unsure of how much to tell. Perhaps she
shouldn’t tell them anything. “I think
you
should tell me where we are
first.”

“Wait. Let me call my father.” He retrieved a
strange device from within a fold in his
trews
and held it to his mouth.
“Da, we have a situation here. Isobell just walked through the garden gate.”

Isobell grabbed hold of Lady Laurie’s arm and
whispered, “Is he addled?”

Lady Laurie uttered a very unladylike snort and
shook her head.

Patrick glanced at his wife then returned
attention to the device he held. “Aye. We are in the orchid house. Aye. Bring
Mairi and, ach, well, she should bring one of Elspeth’s baskets. She will ken
the one.” The
thing
he spoke into disappeared to whence it came.

“Now for your tale, Isobell.” He hadn’t changed
much, his tone demanded as it always had, as if he ordered his warriors.

Lady Laurie’s arm came around her. “Don’t let him
intimidate you. Come and sit.”

She ushered Isobel into the center of the chamber
to four iron chairs with green cushions circling a low iron table with an
amazing glass top, and then encouraged her to sit. Patrick sat on the other
side of the table, Lady Laurie to her left.

“Well.” Patrick leaned forward, hands on knees.

“Stop growling at her. Remember what it felt like
when you first came here.” His wife squeezed Isobell’s hand. “Take your time
and tell us what you can.”

Maybe she should just tell them and get it over
with. “My father betrothed me to Archibald, but I did not want to wed him so I
ran away.”

“I thought you wanted to be his wife,” Patrick
snapped.

His wife sent him a glare. “If you can’t be
pleasant, you should leave.”

“I am sorry, Isobell. ’Tis just your presence here
has left me unsettled.”

She inclined her head, accepting the apology.
Patrick had changed much. There was less tension around his eyes. And he
apologized. Incredibly unexpected.

“My father had told me of horrible deeds Archibald
inflicted on our clan.”

“Archie?” Lady Laurie and Patrick asked in unison.

“Aye. Crimes perpetrated against the clan. Raids.
Killings. Rapes.”

“That does not sound like Archie,” Patrick said.

“Do you think perhaps your father lied?” Lady
Laurie said, in a gentle, non-accusing tone.

Da would never lie to her. Or would he? Was it
possible? Da had been in a rage over Patrick’s marriage to Lady Laurie. Could
she have been wrong to listen to Da’s ranting? He
had
forgiven Archibald
rather quickly once he received the signed betrothal contract.

“I was horrified. I ran. Archibald found me, and
they tried to force me to the altar, but I refused, and they locked me up.”

“You poor thing.”

Isobell squirmed. She didn’t deserve Lady Laurie’s
sympathy. “The MacLachlan clan brownie—”

“
Grrrr!
” Patrick glowered. “What did Munn
do?”

“Well, he gave me wine to drink that made me
forget things. Made me forget I hated Archibald. I signed the contract and said
the vows and we consummated the marriage.”

The wine made her forget about the numerous raids
too. Maybe it would have been better if she hadn’t remembered.

“So you are Archibald’s wife,” Patrick said. “Does
he ken how you came to be here?”

“Oh, nae!” She rubbed tired eyes.

“You must be exhausted,” Lady Laurie said.

“Aye.”

“We should retire to the house.”

“Da and Mairi are on the way.” Patrick leaned back
in the chair, hands clasped behind his head, feet crossed at the ankle.

“There is more. Archibald believes I poisoned
him,” Isobell blurted. “I did not.”

“What? My son poisoned?” The gruff voice made
Isobell jump. The scowl on Iain MacLachlan’s face made it difficult to swallow.

“You are supposed to be dead.” She clasped a hand
over her mouth, horrified.

“Hah. Never felt better.” He slapped a fist to his
chest. “Does my son live?”

“Aye.” She nodded, feeling a wee bit dizzy.

“Hello, my dear, ’tis lovely to see you.” Lady
Mairi bustled into the room with a basket hanging over a wrist and wearing a
short, blue gown with a shorter, matching jacket over top. My goodness, more
than her ankles showed.

Isobell hopped up then dropped into a curtsy and
held. “Thank you, Lady Mairi.”

“Get up, lass. And just call me Mairi. We dinnae
hold much with formality here.”

“In faerieland?”

“This is nae faerieland.” Iain scoffed. “What of
my son?”

“He snored loud enough to wake the dead last I saw
him.” Isobell swallowed uneasily. “What do you mean nae faerieland?”

Mairi patted her hand. “Nae worries. We will take
care of you.”

“If I am not in faerieland, where am I?” Her gaze
leapt from one person to another, seeking an answer yet fearing what it might
be.

“The future. The twenty-first century,” Iain said.

“You will get used to it,” Patrick said.

Isobell looked to the right. To the left. Her
heart raced. She wanted to run, but to where?

“Leave be. You’ve got her panicking. Isobell has
had a trying experience.” Lady Laurie clasped Isobell’s hand. “We should let her
rest. She can tell us how she came to be here in the morning. And she’ll share
all the news from Castle Lachlan. Won’t you, Isobell?”

She nodded.

“We’ll take her to the inn.” Mairi smiled sweetly.

“I don’t think a ride in a car is a good idea yet.
She can have something to eat and stay in our guest room. Will that suit,
Isobell?”

“Aye.” What other choice did she have?

Lady Mairi held out the basket to Lady Laurie.
“One of Elspeth’s remedies is in here. Something calming for Isobell to drink.”

“Nae. I dinnae want another potion.”

“Another? Hmmm.” Patrick’s forehead furrowed and
he rubbed his chin.

“I’m sure she’ll be fine without it,” Lady Laurie
said.

Lady Mairi and… What should she call Iain? Since
he is alive, is he the MacLachlan or is Archibald chief? This whole affair was
too confusing. The older couple left through one door, and she, Lady Laurie,
and Patrick through the door to the garden. They crossed the snow dusted
courtyard and entered a much larger structure into a small chamber with coats hanging
on hooks and boots on a mat on the floor—some
bairn
-sized—and into
a…kitchen perhaps.

“Lady Laurie? My sword?”

“Please just call me Laurie.”

“Put away for safe keeping,” Patrick said. “We
would not want anyone to get hurt by mistake.”

Or on purpose
. “I ken how to use it.”

“That is of interest. How did you come by such
skill, Isobell?”

“Can the two of you call a truce?” Lady Laurie’s
fists were on her hips and she glowered at her husband. “Let’s leave what’s in
the past in the past.”

Patrick responded with an abrupt nod and refrained
from further comment.

Isobell was more than thankful she wasn’t wed to
Patrick.

What of the man to whom she was wed? Had he
survived the suspected poison? One moment he was fine. More than fine. Heat
stole up her chest as she thought of what they’d done in the marriage bed. The
next, he accused her of poisoning him.

If she hadn’t been the one, then who?

“I need to go back and find out if Archie is all
right and learn who gave him the poison. Tell me how to return home.”

“Whoa. Slow down, Isobell,” Patrick said. “If he
truly snored when you left him, I doubt he was poisoned.”

“You do care for him.” Lady Laurie grinned.

“If he wasn’t poisoned, why would he accuse me of
such?”

“He must have believed it at the time. Laurie is
right. We all need sleep. Tomorrow, you will tell us the entire tale and we
will figure out how best to deal with whatever has happened.” Patrick folded
his arms over his chest. The chief had spoken. Or whatever he was now.

“Ignore him.” Laurie opened a door on the front of
a very large, shiny, silver box. “You will find this time has wonderful
conveniences. This is the refrigerator; it’s a cold box, where we keep
perishable foods. If you feel hungry during the night, feel free to help
yourself to whatever you find.”

“Thank you.” Wondrous indeed.

Laurie placed a hunk of cheese and an apple on a
small plate and handed it to Isobell. Then she poured something from an
odd-shaped pitcher into a mug. Isobell sniffed the drink. It smelled like the
spiced cider she was used to at home.

There were other unusual furnishings in the
chamber, but she could learn more about them at another time. She did need to
sleep to get her strength back.

They climbed wide, straight steps to a second
floor. ’Twas incomprehensible that Patrick would live in such an indefensible
home.

Laurie stopped in front of a doorway and faced
Isobell with a smile. “We light our chambers with…special lamps. Switches just
inside turn them on and off.” She reached inside and pushed a wee knob up.
Light drenched the chamber afore them.

Isobell jumped back. Then she stepped forward,
reached inside the door, and pushed the knob down. The chamber went dark. She
flicked it up—light. She felt her grin all the way to her toes. What a
marvelous place—faerieland.

“’Tis a lovely chamber.” Like naught she’d ever
seen. The walls were pale yellow with curtains that had flowers on them. A rug
of blue and gold wool graced the polished wood floor. Such a luxury to have
wood floors instead of cold stone. The large bed took up most of the room and
had many plump pillows, and puffy linens that matched the curtains.

There was no fireplace yet the chamber was warm.
How could that be?

“There is a bathroom—a bathing chamber through the
other door. Come I’ll show you how it works.”

Laurie placed the tray on a table next to the bed
and led the way into the bathing chamber. Isobell trailed fingers over the
bedding in passing, looking forward to sleeping in the big bed. In the bathing
chamber, she had to cover her mouth with a hand to muffle a gasp. Everything
was white, except for fluffy yellow and blue drying cloths. And shiny silver
spigots.

“You’ll get used to it.” Laurie chuckled. “The
knobs on the right are for cold water, left for hot.”

Isobell watched the demonstration in awe. She
doubted she’d ever get used to such wonders. Such luxury.

Laurie reached an arm behind a glass wall. “The
shower works with a twist of this knob. Part way is cold. All the way is hot. I
usually prefer it in the middle like this.”

Water rained from a large square spigot just above
head level. Wondrous indeed.

“This is the toilet, like in the garderobe at
Castle Lachlan, but better. After you, you know, press this knob and, you know,
everything flushes away.” Laurie demonstrated.

Isobell giggled. “May I use it now?”

“Of course. I’ll wait out there until you’re
done.”

When Isobell returned to the bedchamber, Laurie
looked up from her perch on the bed. “I hope you’ll let me be your friend. I
understand that the MacLachlan men can try your patience on occasion. I don’t
believe Archie is the monster your father made him out to be. From my
experience, he is a good man.”

Isobell nodded, but could she trust the woman?

“I’ll leave so you can eat.” Laurie rose and
walked to the door then looked back. “I’ll bring you a clean nightgown.”

Isobell plopped onto the bed and devoured the
fruit and cheese. Before she finished the cider, Laurie returned.

“Here. It’s hardly been worn.” The woman blushed.

Heat scorched Isobell’s cheeks  too. “Thank you. I
appreciate your kindness.”

“I know what it’s like to find yourself in a time
not your own.”