Page 16 of Desiring the Highland Laird (Highland Destiny #1)

H e sounded like she was a problem that needed to be handled. She stomped over to him and nudged him around to face her. When he did, she shoved the stone at him.

“Fine, then. Take this cursed stone back. I never want to see it again.”

When he refused to take it from her, she grasped his wrist and pressed it into his hand.

He held it, staring down at it for a long moment before slipping it back into his pocket.

He took her by the waist and helped her back up on the horse, then settled into the saddle in front of her.

Despite all her misgivings, her anger, and her ill feelings about him, she still wrapped her arms around his waist for self-preservation.

They rode on. As they did, the rains came, falling in sheets around them.

When the first drops hit her on the top of the head, she pulled up the hood of the cloak to ward them off.

It didn’t help. Callum remained sitting straight in the saddle as he kicked the horse into a full-on gallop to get back to the keep as quickly as possible.

By the time they arrived at Dundale, it was nightfall and she was soaked to the bone and freezing. The wind and rain were both bone-chilling cold.

He galloped into the bailey, sliding off the horse immediately and handing off the reins to the stable hand.

Then he reached up to help her off the back of the horse.

She slid into his arms and immediately shoved away from him.

Quick as her legs would take her, she hurried to the door and pushed it open, entering the keep’s great hall.

A warm and inviting fire blazed in the hearth.

Hamish and Malcolm sat at the long table enjoying ale.

Evie halted there, unsure what to do next as they both gaped at her.

Hamish jumped to his feet, shock registering on his face.

The shock was quickly replaced with a smug grin.

Malcolm, meanwhile, remained where he was as he sipped his ale.

Callum came in behind her, kicking the door closed with the heel of his boot.

“Well, what are ye staring at? We’ve returned.”

Then he stomped off to the curved stairs and disappeared. The hot tears threatened again as she stood there, her hands in fists, her hair and her clothes dripping all over the floor.

“Och! Mercy me!” Roslyn exclaimed when she saw her standing there. She hurried over. “Ye have returned?”

“Y-yes.” Evie’s teeth chattered.

“Let’s get ye in some dry clothes, lass, before ye catch yer death.”

“My m-mother used to say that,” she said, wishing her mother was here to take care of her, to soothe her ragged nerves, and give her a hug.

Roslyn put an arm around her shoulders and led her from the great hall. “Say what, lass?”

“That I’ll catch my death if I don’t put on a coat or shoes or whatever.”

She shivered uncontrollably as Roslyn took her through the keep to another wing, away from Callum.

She was relieved she didn’t try to take her to him because she would have flat out refused.

Instead, they ended up winding through a few corridors until they came to a chamber that was large enough for two people.

This must be where she spent her evenings.

As they passed by two servant girls, Roslyn told them to bring in the copper tub and fill it with steaming water.

“That will fix ye right up,” she said.

She merely nodded, trying to control her shivering.

In her chamber, Roslyn sat her in a chair by a blazing fire. Then she bustled about the room to find something suitable for her to change into. By the time she had gathered dry garments, the girls had entered with the tub and filled it with hot water.

Evie was so grateful for that she didn’t even complain when the woman helped her out of her soaking clothes and into the tub.

She sank down into the steaming water that smelled like lilacs.

The warmth of the water pressed through her, warding away the chill.

Roslyn even helped to wash her long, tangled hair.

As she lathered up the locks, she said, “When ye left here, I dinnae think to see ye again.”

“I didn’t think I’d be returning.” Evie closed her eyes and relished the feel of the woman’s nails on her scalp as she scrubbed away the day’s torment.

“Can I ask what happened?” It was a tentative question, one in which Evie was all too happy to answer.

“He intended to dump me off with the Sinclairs,” she said. “Am I that much of a problem, Roslyn?”

“Och, nay, lass. Callum can be a wee bit of…” She paused, choosing her words, then, “an arse at times.”

Evie giggled at that. “No kidding.”

“How did ye convince him to return here with ye?” She sounded genuinely curious.

Evie sighed. She wasn’t ready to tell the tale. She wanted to enjoy the bath, the scrubbing of her scalp, and nothing more.

“Ye dinnae have to answer,” she said in a whisper. “Whatever ye did to make him bring ye back, I’m glad of it.”

Her eyes popped open as she looked up at the woman standing over her. “You are?”

She nodded. “I dinnae think it was the right thing to do, taking ye off to the Sinclairs. I dinnae ken their clan, though I understand them to be decent, honorable folk. But I dinnae think ye should be going to them.”

Something about the way she said that made Evie peer up at her with admiration. “You didn’t?”

“Nay. Let me rinse yer locks, lass.”

She dunked a small pitcher in the water and rinsed the soap from her hair. When she finished, and Evie was perfectly pruney, Roslyn helped her from the bath. She dried off and wrapped herself in a thick blanket. The woman combed out her wet hair and braided it. She handed her a nightdress and robe.

“I’ll let ye dress while I finish up in the kitchen.”

She excused herself to allow Evie some private time to dress. She was grateful for it. Her modern undergarments were discarded on the floor with her cloak and dress, all still sopping wet. She scooped them up and draped them over the chair to let them dry out.

Roslyn hadn’t yet returned. But she had left her some thick stockings for her cold feet.

She was grateful for that. Grateful for everything the woman had done for her.

In a way, she reminded her of her departed mother.

Her mother whom she missed dearly even more so now that she was no longer in the same time zone—hell, the same century—as her sister.

When her feet were covered, she went to the door and pulled it open, peering out into the hall. It was silent and no one was about. She ventured down the hall and found her way to the great hall where Hamish was still sipping his ale.

She hesitated a moment, pulling her robe closer together when he saw her and waved her toward him.

“Come in, lass. Can I offer ye a bit of ale?”

“No, thank you.” She smiled despite herself. Though if she were being honest, she was starving and wishing there was some leftover meal on the table.

She moved toward him, pausing to warm herself by the fire.

“I dinnae ken what happened between the two of ye, but I’m glad to see he came to his senses and brought ye back,” Hamish said.

“Well…” Did she dare explain to him how she bullied Callum into bringing her back? She bit her lip. “Angus Sinclair seems nice enough, but I wasn’t interested in being left there against my will.”

He chuckled, a sound low and deep in his throat. “Indeed.” He took a sip of his ale, dropping the tankard back onto the table with a thump. “Do ye wish to tell me what happened?”

Did she? No. But she cut the man a glance and saw the curiosity shining in his eyes.

Eyes that were so much like Callum’s. He sipped his ale and gave her a comfort that made her think he was merely curious, nothing more.

He motioned to the chair opposite him which was still near the fire.

It didn’t seem to bother him that she was dressed in her nightclothes.

She perched on the chair, folding her hands in her lap and peering at the fire. It was warm and wonderful as she replayed the events of the day in her mind.

“Callum intended to leave me there as though I were nothing more than a discarded garment,” she said, trying to use words Hamish would understand. But the bottom line was, she felt as though she meant nothing to him. That she was disposable. Like a plastic red cup in her time. Tossed away.

“Aye,” Hamish agreed. “But he didn’t. Common sense prevailed.”

“I don’t know if it was common sense or the fact that I embarrassed him in front of Angus Sinclair and his wife,” she said.

“Did ye, now? And how is that?” he asked.

“I told him he was a coward,” she said, still peering into the fire. Hamish emitted a low chuckle. “I told him if he left me there with them, he was hiding from the truth.”

There was a long pause, then he said, “And what truth is that?”

“That I’m from the future and he doesn’t want to believe it,” she said.

Her gaze drifted from the fire to Hamish, who had a pensive look on his aged face.

“I know it sounds crazy. It sounds crazy to me, too, but I’m living it.

I’m here. Maybe for good. I tried everything to convince him.

I didn’t realize wounding his pride would be the push he needed.

And I didn’t want to be abandoned by him and left to the Sinclairs, despite the fact that they seem like lovely people. ”

“Aye…” He said it slowly as he took another swig of ale.

He continued to regard her with an unreadable look. Did Hamish believe her? Would he toss her out on her ear because he thought she was mad?

“He can be a stubborn thing. He doesna believe in the prophecy.”

That got her attention. “Prophecy?”

Hamish set aside his ale and got to his feet. He held his hand out to her. “Come with me, lass. There’s something I need to show ye.”