A Slip In Time (24 page)

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Authors: Kathleen Kirkwood

Tags: #romance historical paranormal time travel scotland victorian medieval

BOOK: A Slip In Time
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It spilled from a great height, tumbling
noisily down a series of rocky steps and outcroppings, the water
frothing white so it looked like pearls, tossed upon the spray.

“I named it the ‘Fairy Falls o’
Glendar,’“ Rae called above the din as he led Julia further around
the lake, then set aside their sticks and the blanket and
pack.

“It’s a fitting name,” Julia called
back, entranced by the water’s spectacle. “Truly, this is an
enchanted place.”

Rae drew her to him, enfolding her in his
arms.

“If ye can feel the magic
o’ this place, then ye must make a wish,
mo cáran,
so tha’ it may come true.”
He continued to hold her, his hand caressing her back with long,
even strokes.

As Julia gazed up into his beautiful
eyes, her heart rushed forth with a wish of its own, leaping past
the logic of her mind. A fire flamed to life in her breast, and
Julia knew in that instant she wished to remain with Rae always,
here in his arms.

Julia’s mouth dropped open at the
candidness of her own admission. Quickly, Rae lifted a finger to
her lips, barring any words she might speak.

“Yer wish is for ye alone
tae know and tae carry in yer heart, ‘til it comes true.”
Withdrawing his finger, he brushed a kiss over her lips.
“Come,
mo cáran,
there is more.”

“More?” Her voice broke as she sought
to regain it.

Taking her by the hand, he led her away from
the lake, guiding her through a path of boulders and up an incline
of several yards, to the brow of the mountain.

He held her before him, wrapping her
in the safety of both his arms. “I want tae show ye a wee corner o’
my home, as I see it. If there is a place in all the world tae hang
yer heart, then I believe ‘tis here, in the Highlands.”

Julia gazed out on the scene before
her. It stretched endlessly, surpassing all that was imaginable —
a sea of receding mountains, wave upon wave, dramatic, austere,
majestic. The very grandeur of it all struck her to
silence.

As a girl, Julia had been taught that
the Highlands of long past were a dangerous place, one of ceaseless
conflicts and stunning brutalities. Perhaps it was an illusion, but
here, resting in Rae’s arms, gazing out over the vastness of the
Grampians, she felt enveloped in a timeless peace.

Suddenly, a shrilling cry fractured the
serenity of the moment. Glancing up, Rae and Julia saw a great,
golden eagle wheeling overhead.

“‘
Tis good
fortune,
mo cáran.”
He smiled. “Perhaps yer wish has already been
granted.”

“Would that it could be,” she
whispered, a familiar pain pricking her heart. Turning in his arms,
she lifted her face and fastened her eyes on his.

A stiff, freshening breeze blew off
the mountains, stirring his dark hair about his handsome features.
How striking he was, she thought as escaped strands of her own hair
whipped about her, streaming over her eyes and nose and chin. Her
carefully styled hair had wilted long ago, the pins barely holding
it in place.

As their gazes remained locked, Rae’s
smile faded, his eyes darkening. He threaded his fingers through
her hair, sending the pins flying and freeing its wealth to spill
about her shoulders.

He gathered her to him, his mouth
closing over hers, coaxing her to meet his kiss, savoring her when
she did. Desire swept through Julia as their lips merged, and
parted, their tongues coupling in a passionate dance.

She ached fiercely for
more and pressed against him, her softness yielding against his
muscle-hardened frame.
Dazedly, deliciously, she felt
his hand sweep up her side and over her breast, his thumb grazing
her there as if with a light kiss.

She craved he’d continue, but his hand
slipped to her back and he withdrew from her mouth, spreading
kisses over her cheek and jaw and ear, then he buried his face in
her neck and held her tight. Julia felt his heart drubbing solidly
beneath her hand as they panted in each other’s arms for breath. At
length, Rae straightened, his eyes dark as the sea.

“Och,
mo cáran,
I could gae on kissing ye
forever and forget aught else. But no matter my will, Time will
turn and snatch ye from me in the blink o’ an eye. Then ye’ll be
stranded here, alone in the future, wi’ oot my
protection.”

Julia pressed her lips together, nodding her
understanding. Secretly, she wished to cry. She fumbled the
chronometer from her waistband, her mouth still burning with his
kisses, her breast throbbing for his touch.

“There is still time. More than an
hour.”

“And we’ll need most of tha’ tae
return tae Dunraven.” He kissed her forehead, his voice sober with
resignation.

Her gaze dropped to the
sword at his side, realizing his reason for bringing it now. His
century
was
a
dangerous time in which to live. She touched his cheek with her
fingertips and offered a wavering smile.

“You needn’t worry overly much.
Scotland is at peace in my century.” She’d not mention that the
clan system no longer existed or that the Highlands were largely
empty, having been cleared of people for sheep and sportsmen. She
held her smile steady. “It would be a long walk, but no one would
harm me.”

He grunted his disbelief. “And are the
animals at peace, too?” he asked as he led her back toward the lake
and the goods he had brought with them.

“Well, the wolves are gone, if that’s
what you mean.”

He raised a surprised brow at that
news. “‘Tisna the only worry ye’d have.”

The boar on the Mackinnons’ crest
sprang to Julia’s mind — obviously not a domesticated variety,
destined as rashers on the breakfast sideboard. She thought them to
be extinct, too, but was unsure what wild animals inhabited the
land to prey on her.

“Here, take a nip o’ this. ‘Twill warm
ye.” Rae offered her a small leathern flask, holding it for her as
she took a taste.

Fire rolled down Julia’s throat, and
she began to choke.

Rae chuckled. “I said a
nip, no’ a gulp. ‘Tis potent stuff,
uisge
beatha,
the water o’ life.”

“It was a nip,” she insisted, clearing
her throat. Already, the liquid warmed her pleasantly, and she felt
aglow in all her extremities.

Rae spread the blanket and took out a
wedge of cheese, meat, and cold oatcakes, which reminded Julia of
Cook’s porridge bars. She settled herself on the blanket with Rae,
watching his gestures and movements, watching the man. All the
while, some indefinable emotion churned deep within her heart.
Though she couldn’t put a name to it, it felt to be expanding,
multiplying, as if it refused to be contained.

“You came to this place, as a boy, you
said?” She redirected her thoughts.

“Aye, especially after
my
màthair
died
and when I was no’ wi’ the Cistercians o’ Coupar Angus in Glenn
Shee.”

“You studied to become a monk?” Her
voice stuck in her throat.

“Studied, aye.” He sent her a smile
and a wink. “But no’ tae become a monk. ‘Tis the churchmen who
school the youths in their letters, hereaboot. My father expected
me tae follow him as laird and wished me tae hae a bit o’
learnin’.”

“Yes, of course.” She sat back on her
heels, still somewhat struck with surprise. “What did you
study?”

He shrugged lightly, taking a bite of
oatcake. “The usual — religion, philosophy, ciphering, reckoning,
the languages — Latin, French, Gaelic, English.”

Julia’s jaw sagged, but he didn’t seem
to notice. She hadn’t expected this. Rae was an obviously
intelligent man, but she hadn’t guessed him to be formally
educated. Or so thoroughly.

“And did you complete your
education?”

“In the Tower o’ London.”

Bitterness tinged his tone, and Julia did
not press to know more. But after a moment, he straightened and,
gazing into the distance, began to speak.

“‘
Twas no’ so grim as ye might
suspect, though no’ verra grand either. My companions and I were
fortunate in tha’ James chose an Englishwoman for his queen and
tha’ he loved and cared for her well. The English themselves were
beset wi’ the problems o’ another regency, and their energies
sapped by their war wi’ France. They had no’ time tae war on
Scotland as well, nor reason tae abuse their Scots
hostages.”

He dragged a hand over his face. “I
and the others were granted some freedoms. I myself took an
interest in matters o’ English law, as King James had done during
his long imprisonment. If there was one thing he did good for
Scotland, ‘twas with Parliament and the courts. The chieftains
dinna take advantage o’ it though. ‘Twould be to our advantage,
for too often we hae been plagued by enfeebled monarchs or infant
kings, as now. Tha’ leads tae men grasping for power and a
lawlessness throughout the land. ‘Tis the people who suffer in the
end.”

By his look, Julia saw his thoughts
weighed heavily on him, like a man who could see a solution to a
grave issue that others could not begin to grasp. She dare not
reveal to him that the Scottish crown would continue to pass to a
steady stream of child kings and be weakened by regencies for over
another hundred and fifty years until the Union of the Crowns. The
ill-fated Mary was but six days old when she became queen, and her
son still a babe when she abdicated.

Rae rose and walked toward the brow of the
mountain once more. He looked out over the land for a moment, lost
in thought, then turned once more to Julia.

“I will admit, sometimes I
wished I knew what ye do o’ the future and what is tae come. At
others I gi’ thanks I dinna. These hours today, I wished tae be
ours,
mo cáran.
Tonight, I must be away again. It canna be helped. Reivers
hae been liftin’ our cattle and must be dealt wi’.”

Her heart plummeted. “I
understand. You are the
laird,
the lord, and must lead out your men.”

The side of his mouth slanted in a
smile. “Tae a Highlander, the laird is ‘father’ tae his people. He
must watch o’er and care for them, as well as protect them wi’
arms. Though I am loath tae no’ be wi’ ye this night, I must
resolve this problem. In truth, I suspect ‘tis more than a simple
raid, rather a challenge o’ some sort.”

“You’re not in danger?” she gasped,
rising to her feet.

“Nay, I shall be safe,” he assured
her, but his hand moved instinctively to the hilt of his sword,
belying his words.

She took several steps toward him,
fear coiling through her.

“You
will
be careful? You’ll not take
chances?”

Suddenly, the currents of emotion that
had been bubbling in her heart swelled and surged upward, bursting
forth.

Julia saw him then, perhaps for the
first time, truly saw him — Rae Mackinnon, master of Dunraven, a
rugged Highlander, kilted and girt with sword and dirk that were
no mere ornaments, his sable hair flowing free and untamed to his
shoulders.

Yet for all that might seem unpolished
about Rae Mackinnon, he radiated dignity and unflinching courage,
qualities that sprang from the man himself and that were so lacking
in the men she knew of her own time. Rae Mackinnon wore them like a
badge and commanded respect. He was a man of his word, who lived by
his convictions. But above all this, he was a man of compassion who
cared for his people both in heart and action.

Alarm seized her. She could not lose
him. Not now. Not ever. Not in any time.

She rushed to him and clasped hold of
his arms. “Promise me you will be careful, that you’ll take no
risks. You do not know what agony I endured waiting this day,
wondering if the door of Time would open or not. But now, not only
must I wait and worry again, but wonder whether you’ve survived the
treacheries of this night.”

She began to shake uncontrollably.
“Promise me, Rae. I cannot bear to keep losing those I love most
in life.”

Rae’s arms surrounded her
instantly, his hands soothing and stroking her arms and
back.
“Mo cáran,
sh-h, ‘tis all right.” He tipped her chin upward so that she
was forced to look at him. He smiled tenderly. “Those are the
sweetest words ye’ve e’er spoken tae me.”

Her hand slipped up to
cover his hand. “Promise me,
please.”

He pressed a kiss to her hair and her
temple. “Aye, I promise.” He grazed her lips with a kiss then
paused, pulling back. “Ye do know wha’ ye’ve said just now, d’ye
no’?”

Julia’s thoughts scrambled
to recall her exact words. As she did, her eyes
grew
wide.

“I’ll no’ let ye recant a syllable o’
it.” His lips moved over hers with a tender hunger. Again he paused
and squinted an eye at her. “Ye weren’t thinkin’ tae deny ye love
me?”

Julia swallowed, her throat gone dry, her
heart afire. She shook her head.

He claimed her lips once more, but this time
it was she who pulled back moments later.

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