The Highlander's Time (6 page)

The world stood still as he cradled her head in his hand. She'd been kissed by him before, but never like this. It was a slow exploration of her mouth. Damn, if she didn't feel as if she'd been stamped with a mark plainly telling everybody she was his territory.

She hated to admit it, but she was beyond starting to like how he kissed her.

“Congratulations, milady,” Father Thomas said.

Staring deep into Iaen’s luxurious blue gaze, a gaze she could lose her soul in, Jenny shook herself out of her stupor. “I'm sorry, Father, what did you say?”

“Congratulations on your marriage.” He clapped his hands together.

“My what?”

“You did agree,” Iaen informed her.

“Well, yeah, I agreed last night before we...I mean...oh, you know what I mean.” Giving herself a mental kick and forgetting the wedding scene from
Brigadoon
, Jenny didn't know if she should clobber Iaen over the head with the goblet or laugh at her own naivety. Granted, he'd struck when she was most vulnerable, but she wasn't some brainless bimbo. Hell, she knew what she was walking into even if she hadn't figured it out at the time. Leaning against him, she smiled at him. “You tricked me.”

“Aye.”

“I don't know how to curtsy.”

Father Thomas translated her statement of fact.

“You think I care?” Iaen challenged her.

He said something to Father Thomas. Jenny thought the priest might die from mortification. “What?”

“Milord wishes you to learn his language afore he needs to request my presence in his bedchamber. Milady, that will not happen unless I am delivering the Last Rites. You have my word.”

“Don't worry, Father, but if you could tell my sly husband something for me.” She waited for Father Thomas to agree. “Tell him, he doesn't need a translator in the bedroom. I understand him just fine when it comes to what happens there.”

She regretted putting Thomas on the spot, but he did as she asked.

Iaen threw his head back and laughed. “Aye, you did.” An arrogant grin crossed his lips.

“Do you think I'm always going to let you have the last word?”

Iaen listened to the translation before he brought her lips to his. “Aye.” He finished the discussion with a toe-curling kiss.

***

“What was that racket about and what took you so long?” Lila sniped the minute Jenny entered the room. “Don't people have any common courtesy anymore? I need my rest. I can't do that with people shouting down the rafters in this drafty hell hole.”

“Lila, stop.” Jenny strode forward, ready to do bodily damage to the diva. Instead of trying to take on Lila all by herself, she'd brought reinforcements--Father Thomas, Elspeth and Meg. Even if they couldn't understand most of what Jenny was about to say to Lila, they could hogtie the bleach-out-of-the-bottle blonde while Jenny force fed her.

“I decided to forgive you for your bitchy attitude, Jenny, but don't push your luck. Now, bring me my coffee.”

Mopping her face with her hand, Jenny felt the urge to scream at her boss. “Lila, we're in the past. There isn't a coffee shop for me to go to.”

“Well, then brew it for me. Better yet, get me a vodka on the rocks. I have the worst headache.”

“Lila, you have to stop and listen to me. You aren't going to get your way here. These people are squeaking out a living as we speak. They don't have time to deal with you.”

“What sort of a fucked up intervention is this?” She picked up the tin cup from the chest and flung it at nobody in particular. It flew against the far wall. None of the witnesses ducked, or paid attention to the cup clattering to the floor. “I told you what to do, now do it.”

“I can't.” Jenny infused her tone with determination instead of resignation. “You can't have what you want or your way. That's not how it works here.”

“Fine, prissy bitch, since you're so smart, you tell me how it works here?”

“Iaen—Laird Kincaid—will find a duty for you. Eventually, you'll meet a man who will ask him for the privilege of wedding you.”

Lila tilted her head so she was staring down her nose at Jenny. “What's your duty, Jenny? Are you the chief slut and cock sucker?”

“Enough!” Infuriated, Jenny shooed everybody out of the room. She stood at the door, glaring at Lila. “When you're hungry, you'll come out. When you can't get your way by pouting, you'll come to your senses. When all your friends desert you because we aren't going to join you in your pity party, you'll realize how nasty a bitch you've become. Until then, have fun all by your lonesome because the rest of us are sick of you and your attitude.”

“You can't leave me like this.”

Jenny closed the door on Lila's shriek of dismay. The crash of something breaking boomed through the room. “When she falls asleep have everything she can hurt herself with removed from her room.” Highly doubting the diva would go to that extreme, it was a common sense decision. A bigger problem mocked Jenny. She hated herself for abandoning Lila.
If only you'd met me half way or given me another choice
. “Did Laird Iaen appoint a guard to her room?”

“Aye, milady. I am to stand watch,” the young warrior who had met her in the hallway an hour ago announced.

“Malcolm, right?” After he nodded, she went on. “Okay, this is what I need you to do. She'll sell her soul to the devil for a drink. Under no circumstances are you to give her one, even if she threatens to pitch herself over the balcony.” Thinking literally, Jenny pointed her finger at him. “That doesn't mean you should let her pitch herself over the balcony. I mean, that's crazy.” She started to shake. Lila was going through withdrawal and in a sick way so was she.

The thought of leaving Lila to her own devices made her ill. She was the responsible administrative assistant, the one who stomped out the fires and handled Lila's busy schedule.

“He understands your order, milady,” Father Thomas intervened. “Why don't you rest? You've had a busy day and it isn't even nuncheon.”

“I think I will. Is there any word from the river?” Her already taut nerves had tightened further when she’d caught hold of some whispers this morning. With Father Thomas’s hesitant translations, she’d learned members of Clan Kincaid were in danger.

“Laird Iaen left only moments ago, milady. We'll let you know as soon as word reaches the Keep,” Father Thomas promised.

She watched all of them nod. “Thank you all for your help.” Tears dripped from her cheeks once more. Worn out from the past day, she bowed her head. “I know I'm difficult right now, but I'll make you proud of me someday. I promise.”

“Meg, see your lady to her room. Elspeth and Malcolm, I'd have you join me,” Father Thomas said.

“What will we do for her? The poor lass is at her limit.”

Jenny heard Elspeth say that before she entered her chamber. “Tell them not to worry about me.” The stock response had overstayed its welcome.

“Aye, milady. I will.”

“I think I'll sit by the fire for a little while.” Sticking to very simple sentences, Jenny sat down heavily in the wooden chair. Chilled and dealing with the fact Lila had to want to get through her misery, she scrubbed her hands up and down her arms, wondering what the future held for her. Could she give up on being the 'go-to' girl? Did she have a choice?

The defining answer was—no.

“As you wish, milady.” Meg hurried across the room. She snatched the blanket from the foot of the bed and covered Jenny with it. “I'll fetch you some tea. A nice bracing cup always does wonders for me, milady.”

“That's a wonderful idea. I'd love some.”

***

“Graham Kincaid, come out here, you stubborn old fool. The river is nigh at your doorstep.”

Iaen listened to Patricia Kincaid shout at the cottage. The good news was the rain had stopped pouring from the heavens. It now fell as a light drizzle which froze upon the blades of grass and coated the barren tree limbs with ice. The other side of the coin was the river continued to rise. “Patricia, get yourself and your family to the Keep afore you freeze,” he ordered the widow in a no-argument-allowed tone. “Think of your children, lass, afore you call my command an act of charity.”

She bobbed a curtsy. Calling her family forward, she started walking up the muddy trail, seven of her children trailing her while her youngest rode on her mama's hip.

“Kevin, hurry ahead and inform Lady Jenny to expect visitors.” Iaen turned to the ramshackle cottage. His thoughts refocused on what had brought him to the river bank. The levies were failing and, with the loss of the earthen walls, more families were facing grave danger. 'Twas now a mass evacuation instead of being restricted to the few cottages in the low lying areas. “Order all other refugees who have not a place to sleep to the Great Hall.”

A frigid blast of wind coming from the north reminded him winter was upon them. Before long, the snows would swirl and the ground freeze hard. And his people, like most other of the Highland Clans, would retreat behind closed doors until spring. His clan was better off than many, but the loss of precious food stores would tax even the mighty Kincaids.

“Have you come to badger me, too, Iaen Kincaid?”

A small smile played at the corners of Iaen's lips. Only Graham would refuse to call him Laird. The grin slid away. “I come to care for
my
clansmen, Graham. You too are welcome in my home if that is your wish.” He stared at the grizzled warrior standing shakily in the doorway. Age showed in the deep wrinkles etching furrows in Graham's face. The pale pallor bleaching Graham's skin and the dark circles shadowing his eyes were impossible to disregard. His tunic hung on his skinny frame.

He was in the twilight of his waning days.

“My wish is for you to leave me alone, Kincaid.” He turned away, but for only a second. “I'd have you fulfill your sire's promise, Kincaid. I wish to be buried in the village of my birth.”

“Fine, my friend.” Iaen turned on the heel of his boot and strode to his stallion. He gathered the reins. His gaze returned to the door. Watching it swing shut, he stiffened his shoulders as he gained his saddle. “Goodbye, Graham.” He clenched his teeth until a muscle jumped in his jaw. “May God have mercy on your soul.”

Wheeling the stallion around, he kicked his warhorse into a cantor and headed north. He caught a glimpse of Castle Kincaid out of his peripheral vision. His thoughts turned to his naive wife. Aye, he regretted tricking Jenny, but there was nay help for it. Father Thomas agreed with his decision to wed the lass though the ecumenical man was loathe to perform a Catholic ceremony. Uncertain if she was baptized into the church, they decided a quick exchanging of words would serve the lass better, and appease the clan—for now.

‘Twas part of the bargain he’d made with the priest that had Father Thomas glaring at the handfasting. He’d not explained to Jenny what he was about, which according to Father Thomas, went against the rules governing marriage by mutual consent.

A grin lifted his spirits for a brief moment.

If all went as planned, by nightfall Kevin would wed Charlzie by the same method. Iaen sobered just as quickly.

'Twas all for the sake of the clan. As many times as Iaen told himself those exact words he couldnae make them matter. He'd chosen Jenny o'er Charlzie because his lady showed grit. 'Twas partially self-serving. There was nay doubt he had to marry and produce an heir. And his heir would need to show backbone.

He'd gone back and forth with himself in a major battle as to whom. All the lasses he met showed a modicum of interest. 'Twas their feebleness, their shy innocence around him which delayed his decision. Iaen couldnae imagine himself married to a woman who shrank into solemn, fearful silence every time he entered the room. Nay, he required a woman of fortitude and personal strength.

Jenny had shown him those character traits. She stared him straight in the eye during their short interview. 'Twasn't until she cried during the wee hours that his heart gave a mighty chug. Aye, she was brave on the surface, but beneath she had a sweetness he was attracted to. She was also loyal to her friends. That trait was a facet, or flaw, depending on how he chose to view her dealings with Lila. He couldnae help but appreciate her.

Erred or flawed, she'd gained his notice.

The combination of her loyalty and personal resolve reaffirmed his decision to take her as his bride.

In the beginning, Father Thomas thought he should take the younger Charlzie. Once he made it clear Jenny was his desire, the priest capitulated. Though, Father Thomas continued to include The Veil in his conversation even after he'd been ordered to let off.

If 'twas true and the anomaly existed, so be it. There was naught he could do to change it.

The lasses were here. They'd have to become part of the clan or not. The decision now landed in their laps whether they wished to learn the Highland ways. He could, and had, given Jenny the protection of his name and title, but 'twas up to her to attain and surpass the clan's expectations set upon the tiny shoulders of the Laird's wife.

Deep in his gut, Iaen knew Jenny would not fail him.

The only fly in the funeral pie was Lila.

He sighed.

He eyed a group of refugees making their way through the slippery muck of the trail. Bent beneath the bundles they carried, he steered his stallion toward them. 'Twas then he saw the people headed for the Keep.

The entire trail was filled with them. He kicked his horse into a gallop, racing at breakneck speed along the quickly disappearing shoreline. Only one thing could cause the hearty people living along the river to leave their homes—disaster.

“Milord. Milord.” Iaen heard one of his warriors call. His eyes focused on the man running toward him.

Scowling, he reined in. “Aye?”

“The levy has broken.”

“Was everyone evacuated?” His throat worked to digest the full impact of the tragedy.

“Aye, but the cottages are flooded. The people have naught except the clothes on their backs and the few things they could gather before the water rushed in.”

“Get them to the Keep. I willnae be far behind you.” Iaen's thoughts returned to his wife. A pang of pity struck him. Her world was about to tilt one hundred eighty degrees.
Be brave, my Jenny
.