Mark of the Highlander (The MacLomain Series: Next Generation, Book 1) (14 page)

“I’ll be curious to learn more about that last bit,” Malcolm said. “It almost sounded as if she’d been here before. Has she then?”

“Only once when I brought her back to keep her safe from the brotherhood. The verra moment I killed my mentor.” Colin looked at William. “I cannae begin to tell you how sorry I am for what has happened. I will figure this out. But it cannae be here. I must travel north and face Keir Hamilton on my own. Find a way to protect this clan from danger.”

“You’ll do no such thing,” Iain snapped, his weary yet firm eyes on his son. “You’ve been gone long enough. I’ll not have your Ma or sister suffer more. By the grace of God, we brought you home so that we might work together as the clan we once were, with the strength we’ve always had. Out there alone you will be slaughtered. Here…” He looked pointedly at Malcolm and Bradon. “Is where your true power lies. The three of you have always battled better together than apart. You’ve years of both physical and magical training. Use it to defeat this undefeatable Hamilton. Use it to remind the whole of Scotland what made the MacLomain clan such a formidable power to begin with.”

The fire roared and spit on the hearth as if in response to the declaration.

“Aye,” William said, steely reserve in his voice. “‘Twill only be a matter of time before Keir realizes you and McKayla are no longer sitting ducks in New Hampshire. When he does he will come. And when that happens the enemy he wishes dead will sit as chieftain of the MacLomains, with the lass he wishes dead as the laird’s wife. You two will unite your clan and renew their spirits before the hammer falls.”

Malcolm was about to speak when William shook his head, razor-sharp eyes covering the three younger men in one pinning gaze. “In front of your clan you will show nothing less than comradeship. Forgiveness given by all, you will be as you once were. Because if you dinnae, even though I might not be laird after tonight, I will personally see you drawn and quartered. Dinnae think otherwise so serious am I about this.”

“And you used to be the jokester,” Iain muttered. “But he has the right of it. We’ll see you all done for, laddies. Each and every one. Not only is Coira’s safety at risk but all of those we’ve come to care for from the future.”

“Especially Arthur,” William commented.

“Especially,” Iain said. “Bloody bastard’s only aged a few years our time. Still in his forties while I’m in my seventies! Ballocks.”

“Time travel and its idiosyncrasies,” William agreed.

Colin, Malcolm and Bradon listened to the two of them banter and Colin realized by his brother and cousin’s expressions it was something that hadn’t happened in a while. Most likely since he’d left. Again, he cursed himself. The consequences of his actions were far reaching. At one time all had been far more light-hearted. Hell, they were Scotsmen! Even with the Sassenach oppression they’d always managed to find humor in life.

Malcolm stood. “There is much to think about but for now I believe I will spend some time with my wife.”

Again their eyes locked. If Colin wasn’t mistaken, he saw a hint of triumph in his cousin’s regard. What was that about? He recalled with pin-point accuracy their many conversations about Nessa. It had been made clear what sort of woman she was. Aye, he’d had a fondness for her, mostly beneath him if he could manage. But never was there a time that he’d felt, never mind declared love for her, especially not to Malcolm’s knowledge.

When Bradon stood and made his excuse to leave, Colin was surprised to see something other than scorn in his brother’s eyes. Could it be he welcomed the challenge? Or could it be he’d simply been looking for a valid excuse to forgive without seeming weak?

Colin rose. He couldn’t wait to get back to McKayla.

“Nay, lad, not you,” Iain said. “Sit.”

So he did without question. After all, three years was a long time, and he had a lot to answer for.

“Though ‘tis hard to believe, there’s an even greater reason why we forced you and the lass home,” William said.

What greater reason could there be than wanting Coira returned safely?

“When did you intend to tell us?” William asked.

Uneasy, Colin said, “Tell you what?”

“This, son.” Iain put a firm hand against his side. “When were you going to tell us the magic of the rings and the Highland Defiance had come together to create something so powerful even we dinnae ken yet its sole purpose.” Iain pressed. “The circle. Stamp of the gods. I cannae help but call it the Mark of the Highlander.”

For the first time since she’d arrived, McKayla was finally alone.

No way around it. Her senses were in overdrive. One astonishing thing after another had been thrown at her today. Yes she should be out-of-her-mind scared but the truth was she wasn’t…well maybe at first but not now. Between Bradon, Arianna, and of course Colin, she felt welcome and far more comfortable than she probably should considering she’d traveled back in time nearly eight hundred years.

Now she sat on what would be equivalent to a California King sized bed. A four poster behemoth, it was the only opulent thing in an otherwise unassuming chamber. The room was huge with tapestries, bearskin rugs and skins on the windows but damn did it all seem to dull in comparison to the bed.

If her surroundings weren’t enough to keep her heart racing her new attire certainly was. Fingering the silky white dress, warmth flooded over her. She hadn’t realized women from this time period dressed so fancy. The long, elegant sleeves tapered to triangular points that fell over the hand and stopped at the base of the index finger. Beyond this point were circles of petite pearls meant to anchor the sleeve in ring fashion. The same pearls ran along the low neckline and the deep point where bodice met skirt.

Parallel to every polished line of pearls was a glorious stream of glistening diamonds. Right before the pearl rings, the ends of the sleeves were exotic and mysterious with their unusual star shapes woven with even more diamonds. According to Arianna, every single pearl was hand selected from oysters born of the North Sea long ago by a woman named Iosbail MacLomain.

Interesting. The very name she’d used as her heroine’s subconscious voice. Yet another bizarre connection between her book and this place. But she had to suppose it was merely coincidence. Or was it?

Unable to resist the urge, she stood and spun. What she wouldn’t do for a mirror!

“I dinnae think a lovelier creature ever existed in the whole of Scotland.”

McKayla stopped twirling and a blush bloomed on her cheeks. Colin leaned against the doorjamb, his eyes roaming over her with unabashed appreciation and stark desire. Her knees went weak at the sight of him. With black boots and a tunic, he wore the MacLomain tartan in what appeared to be true regalia fashion, with a shiny emblem at his shoulder. His dark hair shone in the torchlight, a few small braids still interwoven.

Wide-shouldered, he nearly filled the doorway as his pale gaze continued to admire her.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” she returned softly, pretending to brush away a non-existent fleck of dust from her sleeve.
Remember he’s Trevor, McKayla. You don’t need to be so nervous. You’ve known him for years!
But the moment their eyes met, all logic fled. He was so bloody hot and way too sexy. Staring into those thick-lashed hungry eyes she couldn’t remember if she’d ever written about a man with so much sex appeal. Surely. Maybe. Doubtful.

“McKayla,” he said gently. The deep rumble of his voice locked her feet to the floor.

“Yeah,” she whispered then shook her head when he moved closer.

But he didn’t stop. No, he strode right over and caught the ring of flowers perched on her head moments before it slipped off. She lifted shaky fingers to her hair. Why was she so nervous? Tossing the flowers aside, he took her hand and brought it to his lips. Though chivalrous, the gesture did nothing for her frayed nerves. Now he stood so close, so tall and so darn handsome her legs were starting to tremble.

“McKayla,” he whispered, putting her hand against his cheek. “‘Tis just me. Your best friend. The lad who offered you cake via Skype just yesterday morn.”

“That seems like a lifetime ago,” she murmured. McKayla looked into his eyes. “It’s almost as if
that
was a dream and
this
is reality. I must still be in shock, huh?”

“I’d imagine in some ways we both are,” he acknowledged. “But based on how I feel and by what I see in your eyes when you look at me ‘tis the best sort of shock there is, lass.”

Strong hands cupped her cheeks and his eyes reeled her in further. “You. Me. This…is life altering. ‘Tis what should have always been, McKayla. Dinnae be frightened or embarrassed by it.”

Thoughts of what she’d said earlier surfaced. That she intended to stay single. At least as long as it took to figure everything out. The way he looked at her now told her that he’d never considered the statement anything but useless words. As far as Colin MacLomain was concerned she was his. Always had been and always would be.

And he didn’t think he was arrogant. Ha…

“It’s hard,” she whispered. “When you act so different than the man I know.”

His thumbs brushed over her cheeks. His eyes studied hers. In a flash she watched determination bordering on domination filter down to confusion then regret. It was impossible not to see the war going on inside him. One, it seemed, between the man he once was and the man he’d become.

Warm hands abandoned her cheeks to cup her neck and then her shoulders. His eyes dropped, interested in where his hands traveled. “I have always loved touching you,” he said, eyes still downcast. “So petite, fragile, but with such underlying strength.” His eyes shot to hers. “But I couldnae break you if I wanted to.”

Though she knew his statement should alarm her, it didn’t. He worried over just how much she could take. “No,” she replied evenly. “You couldn’t.”

She knew what he saw in her eyes…unwavering determination. Because she had no intention of buckling beneath all that was thrown her way. And though he thought she was strong, which she was, it was partly because of him. However upset she might have been, if she had to travel through time she was glad Colin was with her. The castle, the people, they gave her a renewed sense of confidence she’d not experienced at home.

When Colin looked at her now he not only saw, but sensed her fortitude. He didn’t move away but instead remained close, his hands touching, cherishing. There was a poignant chemistry between them that never existed before. Or perhaps it needed this land and time for the desire to sharpen into this unavoidable magnetism. 

“Formalities must be observed this eve. I must go down to the great hall before you,” he said at last.

“Of course,” she replied, caught in the strange almost otherworldly attraction sizzling between them.

When he leaned close her breath caught. He tilted his head until their lips were inches apart and whispered, “I will see you down in the great hall. Know when I do ‘tis with a greater love than even you can fathom.”

What sizzled moments before now burned and blazed between them. Still, his lips didn’t touch hers. His muscles flexed and his body seemed to vibrate, even tremble, before his kiss finally fell on her cheek. Then, without another word, he was gone.

After he’d left, McKayla released a deep gush of air. When had she stopped breathing? Her body felt like liquid when she nearly stumbled, grabbed a bed post and sank down onto the cushioned spread. McKayla twirled the ring on her finger. Trevor never said he loved her.
Ever.
It was only after they decided to be friends that he said I love you, but it had always been strictly platonic. They were friends and nothing more. Or so it’d always seemed.

“M’lady, when you are ready.”

Startled, McKayla stood, grateful her legs had steadied. Malcolm stood in the doorway. What the hell was he doing here? Intensely good-looking, he seemed part lion, part panther with pale brown, almost bronze eyes and raven black hair. Though his jaw was as chiseled and his frame just as muscular and honed as Colin’s, this MacLomain kept pent up a little something extra. What it was exactly she couldn’t be sure. She suspected emotions…repressed, exacting and alarmingly patient emotions.

And now she had to walk with him.

Alone.

Colin might’ve shared exactly
who
was to escort her down.

Then again, had he, she probably wouldn’t have gone. Malcolm? Truly? Why not Bradon. Now there was someone she could spend hours with. She felt a kinship with Bradon, had liked him almost instantly. Flirty, fun, informative, he was incredibly easy to get along with.

Malcolm, not at all.

He seemed exasperated by her mere presence. Though it was about the last thing she wanted to do, McKayla took his arm and allowed him to lead her down the hall. Kilted and intimidating she’d never been more aware of an individual in her life. Torches spit and hissed on either side of them and smoke filled her nostrils, but she only to heard the heavy thud of his boots, and the whispery dusting of dagger against wool as he walked. Oh, she’d seen the weapon.

“I dinnae intend to bite you, lass,” he said, voice so soft she barely heard it.

“Don’t you?” she replied. “I know you don’t want me here.”

Did I really just say that?
McKayla clamped her mouth shut.

If possible, he stiffened further. “‘Tis not you I find fault with.” He seemed to hesitate but then continued. “But you are correct. I dinnae want you here.”

Did he not realize he contradicted himself? Annoying.

“Then clearly you do find fault with me,” she enlightened.

“I find fault with your situation. You dinnae belong here. Nor does he.”

Bristling she said, “
He
being your cousin, Colin? I’m pretty sure he belongs here.” They stopped before descending the stairs. “And while I agree that I don’t fit in here, heck I don’t even want to be here,” McKayla exclaimed. “But you’re going to have to deal with it, and me. If I have no choice, neither do you.”

Seth would be proud. She was finally standing up for herself.

Then she noticed how jam-packed the great hall was. Night had fallen, the doors were thrown open and it appeared a celebration was most certainly taking place. As they walked down the stairs, McKayla couldn’t help but smile. Pipes trilled, people danced, some on tables. Trays upon trays of food were laid and the smell of roasting meat, smoked fish and baked bread permeated the air.

More eyes than she was comfortable with turned their way as Malcolm steadied her. Walking down the stairs in a gown was going to take some practice. Soon they rounded the last step and he pulled her forward. As they moved into the great hall, she became aware of a tall, gorgeous woman with long, black curling hair. Her cutting sky blue eyes shaved McKayla from head to toe in one damning appraisal.

Thankfully they weren’t near her for long.

McKayla and Malcolm had just made it through the crowd and over to the great hearth when the pipes ceased and William’s voice rose above the mayhem. “MacLomains, my kin, my clan, the time has come!”

The hall fell silent. All waited with baited breath. Malcolm never released McKayla’s arm as Iain, Bradon and Colin joined William in front of a low fire. Their tartans wrapped proud, they were an impressive sight.

William looked over the crowd for a long minute, eyes locking with several clan folk before speaking, “For many years now you’ve done me the honor of calling me laird as you did Ferchar before me and—” He placed a tender hand on Iain’s shoulder. “This great man before that.”

Many smiled, nodding at Iain.

“But I am no longer a young lad and this clan, as it has many times before, once more faces new challenges.” When several people looked concerned he said, “We have always been and will always be a strong clan. One of the mightiest. Not because of who led us but because we are as one. So now let me be as every great laird has been before, honest. Honest because you deserve it. Honest because it would be a disservice to you if I wasnae, aye?”

“Aye!” someone yelled back.

Most nodded, mumbling their agreement.

“As you all know we welcomed home Iain’s son, Colin.” He grasped Colin’s shoulder as the crowd grinned, many yelling out their approval. “Though he might’ve left for a time it doesnae matter because he is home now, aye?”

“Aye!” most yelled. A round of cheers filled the room.

Malcolm stiffened. McKayla glanced up. His face was steely as he eyed Colin.

“With Colin’s homecoming comes undesirable news from the north. A battle looms,” William said, his voice challenging as he gazed around the room. “What say you to that?”

McKayla thought for sure there would be murmurs of dissent. Instead she nearly had to cover her ears when the room roared to life. Some cried, “To our doorsteps with the swine!” Others yelled, “Down with the bloody blackguards!”

It seemed the MacLomains liked a good fight.

And on it went. William, who certainly seemed to be revving up the crowd on purpose, raised an arm in the air. All fell silent. “We do love a good battle,” William yelled, but then his grin fell away altogether. “And while I might still be strong, my wits and magi would serve greater purpose giving council to the next generation of MacLomains, to men with more endurance on the battlefield.”

The hall grew silent, a hair raising eerie silence. They all sensed something big was about to happen.

“‘Tis time to do what our beloved Adlin MacLomain wanted. Though gone from us, his wishes remain. Never doubt that his vision for the clan will always be what is best. The things he foresaw…that when the time was right, Iain’s son would rule.” William squeezed Colin’s shoulder. “
Now
is that time.”