Dawn Marie Hamilton - Highland Gardens (7 page)

“But faerieland…”

“Iain told the truth. This is not faerieland. It’s
the future where I came from before I landed in your time and met Patrick.”

“Oh.”

“Sleep well.” Laurie left her alone.

Isobell doubted she’d be able to sleep. The
future… Was it possible?

Using the shower in the bathing chamber was a
delight. She donned the borrowed nightgown and slid between crisp sheets.
Patrick must be very wealthy in this time to afford such luxury.

The thought of Patrick brought thoughts of
Archibald. Had she been wrong to believe Da? Would Archie forgive her if she
returned to him? If she could return to him?

Did she want to return to him?

I
sobell
woke slowly, rays of sunlight warming her face. Then she startled. She was in a
strange bed. In a strange chamber. In a strange house. She trembled with a
flash of memory—faerieland. Or was it the future?

A gown of sorts draped a wooden chair in the
corner. Isobell padded to the chair barefooted, surprised to find the floor
warm to the touch. Standing in front of an incredibly clear looking-glass, she
donned the drab gray dress—not to her taste—and slipped into the leather shoes
tucked beneath the chair.

Inhaling a deep, calming breath, she descended the
stairs. After crossing through several amazing chambers, with wonders beyond
her ken, she found the kitchen. Laurie sat at a table speaking with a redheaded
woman whose back was to Isobell. She halted, hesitant to interrupt.

“Why should the Chief of Clan MacLachlan’s
happiness matter to me? My only concern is the queen’s challenge,” the woman
said.

“What ken you of Archibald?” Isobell marched into
the kitchen.

The woman spun around, green eyes narrowed.

“You!” Isobell blurted, startled to recognize the
woman.

A furrow crossed Laurie’s brow. “You’ve met
Caitrina?”

“Oh, aye.” Isobell fisted hands on hips. “She came
to my…cottage. Claimed to ken my destiny.”

Caitrina frowned. “Just how exactly did you come
to be here?”

“Isobell, please sit. Perhaps you can tell us the
whole tale now, while the men are out of the way, practicing swordplay.”

When Isobell finished with the telling, Caitrina’s
neck and face flushed red.

“I can hardly believe Munn told the truth. Oonagh
has interfered. She led Isobell to the faerie hill and brought her forward
through the gate. Why?”

“Who is Oonagh?” Isobell asked.

“The Queen of the Fae.”

“Why would she interfere with Isobell and Archie?”
Laurie asked.

“I dinnae ken. But she has.” Caitrina pursed her
lips. “I need to leave.”

The woman stood and left through the door to the
garden. Isobell followed and peered out the window. Then clutched her chest.

“Oh my!” The woman walked just beyond the garden
gate and vanished into the mist. Isobell dropped onto a chair. “She is a
faerie?”

“She is, but this isn’t faerieland.”

“Then why are there faeries here?”

“Because they are everywhere.” Laurie sighed.
“Let’s forget the faeries for a moment. We should talk about you and Archie.
You’re wed. You need to work out your differences. We’ll find a way to send you
back.”

“What if I dinnae want to go?”

“You care for Archie. Don’t you owe it to him and
to yourself to learn the truth?”

She wanted to, but even if her father had lied,
there was no future for her and Archibald. He’d never forgive her for the year
she’d spent raiding, seeking revenge against him and his clan.

When he learned the extent of her betrayal, he’d
seek justice for his clan. She swallowed uneasily. He had every right to
condemn her to death by hanging.

* * *

Castle Lachlan, 1512

Munn felt the pull of Caitrina’s summons. The darn
faerie had a lot of nerve bothering him while he attended his chief. Choosing
to ignore the compulsion, he planted his feet firmly on the straw-covered
floor. The itchy rash started on his chest then spread. He kenned better than
to scratch. It would just make the eruption worse. He squirmed, wiggled, did a
shimmy.

“What is the matter with you?” Archibald frowned.

Too uncomfortable to answer, Munn gritted his
teeth. Sweat prickled the folds in his forehead. Archibald, and the two lads
assisting him, took several steps back as if Munn had gone raving mad. He
couldn’t hold out much longer. The annoying faerie’s call too strong.

Without conscious thought, he spun and disappeared
from the stable, traveling sideways through the ether. Nausea clenched his
stomach muscles. Inhaling sharply, he curled into a ball, landing as such, and
rolled across the green grass, stopping at Caitrina’s dainty feet.

“You foolish, wee man. You thought to ignore me?”

How dare she? Munn hissed, ready to curse her from
here to there.

“Whist! There is nae time for theatrics.”
Caitrina’s shoulders slumped. “As much as I hate to admit it, you were right.
The queen has taken interest in Archibald and Isobell.”

“Why?”

“Probably naught but a whim.” The faerie’s pointed
ears twitched and her eyes flared as if listening to something only she could
hear. She frowned, cursed, and then returned attention to Munn. “Seems Fate
suggests a Christmas Eve conceiving.”

“Oonagh and Fate dinnae get along.”

“Nae, they do not. Oonagh believes she has placed
Isobell out of the MacLachlan’s reach and has demanded we accept a side
challenge.”

“We? Nae we.”

“You will help. If we win this challenge, the
queen promises not to interfere in the third match of the original challenge.
You want Archibald and Isobell to be happy. Aye?”

Munn nodded. He did want the chief to be happy,
but the chief was still mad about the enchanted wine.

“Then see to it Archibald is on the faerie hill
this night.”

Munn glanced at the cloud filled sky. “There is
not to be a full moon this night.”

“I ken. I will guide him through the gate.”

“The queen will place obstacles in the way.”

“Aye. She will.”

Munn shuddered. He didn’t wish to feel the queen’s
wrath again.

“’Tis up to you to ensure the MacLachlan line
lives beyond Archibald.” Caitrina pinned him with a green stare.

“But…”

“Remember your duty is to the MacLachlan clan.” She
vanished.

* * *

Present day

Anderson Creek, North Carolina

“How can I ever learn if my da spoke the truth
when he condemned Archie, or if he spoke falsely?” Isobell plopped onto the
sofa next to Laurie and her
bairn
. “If I ask him, he’ll claim he never
said those things. Since I am now married to Archie, Da wants me to submit and
have children that will be born of the blood of both clans. Those who
corroborated his previous tales will back his new position.”

“There is a way.” Iain stood in the doorway, wee
lads in tow, wooden swords held in pudgy fists.

The lads had angelic faces, eyes wide with
curiosity, but they were more than likely mischievous devils. Isobell rubbed
her chest near her heart. She’d always wanted to have children. She’d lied to
Archie about making sure he’d have no heir.

Isobell jerked her attention back to Iain. “How
can I learn the truth?”

“A trip to the library in Asheville. The library
has a written history of the MacLachlan clan. It details the progression of the
feud.”

“And there are online sources that would detail
the Lamont side of the story,” Laurie patted Isobell’s hand. “You’re going to
get your first ride in a car.”

“I want to go too,” Young Iain declared.

“Me too!” Scott, said with a jounce.

Iain scrunched down to the level of the twins.
“You dinnae like the library because it requires quiet, but if your ma agrees,
we will bring you something back from the candy store. Besides, Nana plans to
put out more Christmas decorations. I am sure she will let you help.”

The lads turned puppy dog eyes on their mother.
Laurie nodded, and the children twirled together in a merry dance then scooted
from the chamber shouting war cries. The wee lass in Laurie’s arms fussed,
wanting to chase after her brothers.

“I’m not sure Mairi will appreciate the boys’
interference.”

Iain chuckled. “She adores the lads and will be
happy to have their assistance.”

Laurie rolled her eyes. “Let me put the little
lady down for a nap and call a babysitter. Then we’ll take a scenic drive along
the Blue Ridge Parkway to Asheville. The views will remind you of home.”

Isobell donned the embellished skinny jeans and
red cashmere sweater Laurie purchased for her and tugged on soft napped ankle
boots. With a toss of her hair over a shoulder and a glance in the
looking-glass, she smiled. The garments felt strange, tighter than what she was
used to, but she liked the way she looked.
Almost like a local
.

The snow on her arrival had been short-lived. The
air now warm. Laurie called it a late Indian summer. ’Twas pleasant. Isobell
strolled through the garden, waiting to take her first journey in this very
strange future.

Iain returned after what felt like forever with a
large, shiny-black, covered cart. No horse required to pull it. Amazing indeed.
Isobell sat on the back bench with Laurie, and Patrick in the front with his
da.

The drive was uneventful. Who kenned why the
others thought she’d be unnerved? The vehicle progressed along a black,
hard-packed trail in silence. Spectacular views from the windows left her awed.
The land was much like Scotland with its mountains and heavy mists, but with so
many more trees, bare now of leaves.

She hesitated before entering the building in the
bustling town of Asheville, her stomach doing a little flip. The others
regarded her with solemn eyes.

“I dinnae want to learn anything beyond what
happened the day I left. I would rather not ken Archibald’s future.”
Or
mine.

“We understand. That is wise.” Iain took hold of
her elbow and escorted her into the library. A marvel, full of more books than
she thought existed. He’d reserved a private gathering chamber where they sat
at a square wooden table with four wooden chairs. Laurie fetched the books in
question and read from the text since Isobell was unable to read the writing of
their time. ’Twas true. From the book’s account, Da had lied.

Then Laurie read from a marvelous thing displaying
all sorts of images. They called it a computer. The Lamont account of the feud
was somewhat different than that of the MacLachlans, but still held Archie
innocent.

Isobell didn’t ken whether to be happy or sad to
have been so misled. And by Da. He had been very good to her as a child.
Providing for her every desire. But when she refused to wed those chosen for
her, he became a stubborn goat.

“Well, daughter. What do you plan to do now?”
Iain—her father-in-law—asked.

Her eyes misted. She didn’t deserve his affection.

Would he and the rest of the family shun her when
they learned of her participation in the wrongful raids against their clan in
the past?

Fir-wood, 1512

A
n
arrow whizzed past Archibald’s head. “The Lamont renegades are not that good of
marksmen. Why all of a sudden are their shots coming close to the mark?”

“The faerie queen. She interferes,” Munn shouted
over the thunder of pounding hoofs.

Fae intervention?
Archibald didn’t care for
the implication, but perhaps he was becoming a believer.

And just where the hell had Maclay come from? The
man was supposed to be dead.

Archibald urged his horse to greater speed. The
brownie cursed, but remained standing at his back. Archibald planned to brave
the knoll this night. He wouldn’t allow flying arrows or the living-dead to
stop him from traveling to Isobell.

“Make a run for it,” Duncan, riding beside him,
yelled. “Me and the lads will waylay the damn reivers and that bastard Maclay.”

The men pulled back, and Archibald continued the furious
race for the mound. The steed balked at the edge of the knoll, and he dropped
to the ground. Munn jumped to his side.

“Dash home, lad.” He slapped the horse’s rump and
the beast bolted back the way they’d come. He hoped the horse made it past the
reivers and to its stall in the stable before another bout of bad weather set
in. Though he couldn’t worry about that now. He’d more important travel on his
mind.

The knoll was much the same as on their last visit
except for the suspect sparkling lights hovering over the grass and in the
branches of the one tree at its center. A tree that wasn’t there the other day.
And shouldn’t display leaves at this time of year. He shivered. Unnerved by the
knoll’s unpredictable behavior. “Now what?”

Munn muttered something that sounded like,
“Where
is the darn faerie?”
then marched to the center of the mound. “Stand here.”

With each step, Archibald felt an unusual pull. A
humming in his head. Mist wrapped around his legs, slithering and swirling.
When nausea hit, he grabbed Munn’s arm, and they both fell backward, dropping
into a black pit. Down, down, down. Faster and faster.

“What in the—” The words were lost amidst the
sound of a howling wind. Please, not the cry of
banshees
. Harbingers of
death.

They plunged for what seemed like forever.
Where
would this mad journey end?

Archibald lost grasp of Munn as they spun, or
mayhap the pit was spinning. He didn’t ken which. Colors flashed fitfully. So
dizzy he wanted to vomit, he grabbed hold of a beckoning white light and followed
it through the mayhem of his mind.
Take me to Isobell
.

He shot into a star-filled night sky and tumbled
head over heels several times until he hit a barrier that felt like a huge
spider web. Stuck like a fly. His skin crawled, panic setting in, but then the
thing released him and he drifted to the ground, landing on all fours.
Grumpf!
Munn landed beside him on his arse with a loud grunt.

“Did we make it?” Archibald demanded.

“Nice position, brother mine.”

Archibald leapt to his feet, fists ready for defense.
No risk of attack. His twin stood afore him with a wide grin as if the misery
he felt a fine joke. Patrick presented a hand. They grasped forearms as
warriors then embraced as brothers of the womb.

“I was not supposed to travel too,” Munn grumbled.
“Caitrina will rage at me.”

Archibald chuckled along with his brother. Relief
made him almost giddy. The
Sithichean Sluaigh
hadn’t sent him into the
fires of hell or some equally horrific place.

“You can handle her, imp,” Patrick said,
distracting Archibald from the uncomfortable thoughts of what could have
happened.

“As glad as I am to see you, I came to find
Isobell,” he said.

“She is here. Safe in the house with Laurie.”

“Thank the good Lord. Take me to her.”

“Not yet. We need to talk first. We can go to my
study.” Patrick glanced in Munn’s direction. “Come along, wee man.”

Archibald followed his twin through a gate into a
well-tended winter garden and into a massive wooden structure.

“Welcome to the home I built.” Patrick’s face lit
with pride.

Archibald understood his brother taking pleasure
in the dwelling. As they proceeded through several different chambers, he hid
an acute curiosity, a desire to learn how things worked, keeping in mind the
reason for being here—though he wasn’t sure where here was—to fetch Isobell and
return home. Munn had no such compunction, he touched everything in passing
until Patrick slapped his fingers and bade him stop.

They retired to the well-appointed study.
Archibald smiled. Patrick had reproduced the study at Castle Lachlan though
this chamber displayed even more wealth.

Patrick stepped to the hearth and withdrew a
multifaceted glass flagon, pouring the amber liquid into two matching glasses.
“I imagine you could use a whisky. I certainly want one.”

Archibald collapsed into a chair afore the hearth
where a small fire crackled. He took a sip of the offered drink and relished
the slow burn in his gut.

“Just where is here?” he asked.

“The future.”

“Ah! Da and Mairi?”

“Live nearby.”

“So, Finn told the truth.”

“Aye.” Patrick nodded, eyes creasing with
restrained mirth.

“Where is the reprobate?”

His twin laughed. “He and Elspeth are in a foreign
place—Africa—visiting with his father, a man who digs in the dirt, searching
for ancient relics.”

“Truly?”

“Aye,” Patrick said. “Old things hold much value
in this time. He would enjoy exploring the storage cells at Castle Lachlan.”

“I had to lock Isobell in one.”

“I am sure ’twas for her own good.”

“’Twas.” Still, Archibald felt bad for having
imprisoned her, even if it was only for a short time. “I will miss seeing
Elspeth and Finn.”

“They promised to be home by Christmas Eve. Two
days from now. The family will want you and Isobell to stay for the
festivities, but the gate is fickle, and you must return to your time when you
can.”

Archibald frowned. “Christmas is weeks away yet.”

“Time sometimes warps when you travel through the
gate.”

“Oh, I see.” He sighed and brushed nervous fingers
over the fine wood grain of the chair’s arm. “You told a falsehood when you
claimed to be going to France to live. I kept expecting a missive. Then gave
up. It hurt to never hear from you.”

“For that, I am sorry. But you must understand
now, my need for secrecy.”

“I would not have believed you if you had told me
the truth.” Archibald leaned forward, hands on knees, and hung his head. He and
Isobell didn’t belong in this time and place. They needed to go home where
things made sense. He raised his gaze to his brother. “Do you think we will be
able to return to our time?”

“We really dinnae ken the workings of the gate.
The fae have some control over it, aye, but destiny seems to be a strong pull
too. Da believes if a soul comes here then returns to the past, then they
cannot come here again. But I doubt that is an issue for you.”

“Nae. It is not. I want to take Isobell home where
we belong and stay there.”

* * *

Isobell strolled down the hall, headed for
Patrick’s study. She wanted him to order a few more things from online. She
glanced down at her feet and chuckled, loving the furry, leopard print
slippers, the black, silky jammie bottoms, and the warm, hot pink hoodie Laurie
had procured for her. The door was open so she entered without knocking and
stopped dead.

Archie sat in the chair across from Patrick at the
desk.

How? She wanted to back up, pretend she never
entered. Find a hole to hide in. Disappear into mist like Caitrina. Run.
Instead she closed a gaping mouth and sat in the empty chair next to her
husband.

He looked good. Handsome. She wanted to reach out
and touch his dear face. Oh, good Lord, what should she say?

Archie stared at her, seemingly also at a loss for
words.

She stole a glance at Patrick. His lips quivered.
Damn the man.

“I shall leave the two of you alone to—” He
chuckled, hurried out of the chamber, and closed the door.

Great. Now what?

They both started to speak at the same time.

“Sorry.” She cleared her throat. “You were about
to say?”

“You first.”

“I would rather you speak first.”

He nodded gravely. “None of what your father told
you about me was true.”

Was she ready to disclose she kenned the truth? “I
may have been hasty to believe him, but the tales were terribly gruesome and
his lads corroborated the stories.”

“Of course they did.” Archibald tilted his head to
the side, frowned, and raised his gaze heavenward. “They are your father’s
lads. Can you try to trust me? Give me a chance?”

“Perhaps. I have a confession to make.” Not the
one she should make, but if they stayed here, he never needed to ken the full
truth of her betrayal. “Your da took me to a place of vast knowledge, a library
full of books and other wonders. We read about the progression of the feud
through the day I left Scotland. My da lied. I ken the truth.”

Archie’s relief was tangible. She wanted to hug
him, but wasn’t sure if he’d welcome her forwardness. She moistened dry lips
“Do you ken what happened to Dealanach Dubh?”

He cleared his throat with an awkward grind. “Nae
worries, sweetling, your fine steed is probably munching hay in his stall in
our stables at this verra moment.”

Overjoyed, she forgot her insecurity and leapt
onto his lap. The chair groaned. She didn’t care if they broke it. Isobell
threw her arms around Archie’s neck and kissed him hard on the mouth.

“Ach, lass, now that is what I call a proper
greeting from one’s lady-wife.”

She had to agree. He felt good. Virile. He smelled
good. Fir and fresh air. He wore a clean
leine
and
plaide
with
nothing else. A thrill ran through her. Patrick looked handsome in his future
garments, but Archie was magnificent in traditional Highland garb.

Isobell wiggled her bum, feeling his desire in all
its glory.

He stood her up abruptly, rose from the chair, and
grasped both of her hands, holding them out to the side. With his forehead
pressed against hers, he inhaled several quick breaths. Then he leaned back and
stared at her.

She could easily get lost in the depths of his
molten, silver eyes.

“You are much different in these strange
garments.” His admiring gaze stroked up and down. “Go and change into proper
attire so we can return home.”

What?
“I dinnae want to return to the past.
I want to stay here.”

“Nae!” He growled.

She pulled away from him. Fisted her hands. “Aye.”