Highland Games (7 page)

Beneath fingers that were still
holding on to Colm’s biceps, Piper felt his whole body stiffen.
Whatever they were telling him, couldn’t be good. One man pointed
his sword directly at Piper and said something that had Colm
snarling a response and tightening his grip on her arm to the point
of pain. Stifling a gasp at the ache, Piper felt it best to be
silent.

One man in the group never took his
eyes off her. It was eerie and unnerving. At the same time, though,
he looked familiar, which was just ridiculous since it’s not like
she’d have ever met him before. Still, something about his eyes
were so achingly familiar she almost moved toward him. As it was,
her body tensed, ready to move, but Colm’s grip held fast, and
Piper’s brain kicked into gear, reminding her she didn’t know that
man with the familiar eyes.

Finally, the man spoke. He was angry,
no, he was furious. And it was all directed at Colm. What was going
on? The man gestured once more to Piper, and growled, actually
growled at Colm. Piper’s eyes widened as his met hers once more,
only this time he held his hand out to her. His eyes were still
snapping fire, but the scowl had softened. What, he thought she’d
just take off with a total stranger to who knew where? Piper
gulped, her track record didn’t exactly speak well for her since
that’s exactly what she’d done with Colm. But that was different,
wasn’t it? She may not have known Colm for long, but she felt like
she had known him for years. She’d seen into his soul. This man
though, she didn’t know him, no matter how familiar he
seemed.

Piper shook her head “no” very
slightly, and felt Colm’s fingers tighten even more.

The man’s scowl came back full force,
as he once more presented his hand for Piper. Again, she shook her
head. He yelled at Colm and his horse skittered nervously, attuned
to his master’s dark mood. With a final shout at Colm, and a terse
nod to her, he turned his horse around and galloped off, the rest
of the men following suit.

“
What was that all about?”
Piper let out a soft breath in relief.

“
Rearrange your gown, and
come with me.” Gone was her passionate lover, in his place was a
cold, hard warrior.

“
Huh?” Was he mad
at
her?

Rather than waiting for her to fix her
gown, Colm roughly turned her around and laced her stays up,
putting her to rights. He wasn’t speaking, but the white lines
around his mouth were tight, and it sounded as if he were grinding
his teeth. He was pissed. What had just happened? Once she was
dressed properly, Colm took her hand and pulled her along with him
back to the manor. During the trek back to the house, Piper kept
replaying the events in her head. She should be ashamed of herself
at what she’d been about to do. And with a man she’d known all of a
day and a half, no less. But she wasn’t. The moment had felt right,
everything about him had felt right, but she was also really
confused. His total about-face was causing her own anger to slowly
simmer, until by the time they’d gotten to the flower garden right
off the library, she was furious at him for not letting her in on
what had happened.

Digging in her heels, Piper yanked on
Malcolm’s arm. “Stop.” He continued on to the doors. Piper pulled
harder. “I said stop.”

Finally, he turned around. Nostrils
flaring, eyes snapping, he stared her down.

“
What the hell was that
all about?” Piper demanded.

“
Nothing you need fash
yourself over.”

“
Excuse me? It obviously
concerns me, since that one dude was trying to get me to go along
with him. And seriously? I let you have your little man-tantrum
over there, now get over it and tell me what’s going
on?”

He glared at her for just a bit
longer, and then he snorted. “Man tantrum?” He chuckled and just
like that, her Colm was back. Not the cold hard warrior from
before, but her warm, vivacious almost-lover.

“
Yeah, you know, the whole
silent-fury, pissed-off male thing? Man-tantrum.”

Colm stared at her from hooded eyes
for a long moment, before he spoke. “I hurt you.” He lifted her
hand, and pressed his lips to the inside of her wrist. “My
apologies, ‘twas never my intent to do so.”

Piper shrugged it off. She knew he was
sincere, but was he changing the subject? Narrowing her eyes, she
reminded him, “You were going to tell me what happened back
there.”

“
Aye,” but he didn’t seem
in any hurry to stop nibbling the inside of her wrist. His tongue
was tracing the light blue veins and she couldn’t suppress the
shiver that ran along her spine. She felt rather than saw the smile
curve against her skin.

Clearing her throat, “Talk. Now.” He
sighed, his breath a warm puff of air on her damp skin, but didn’t
immediately stop. With a last, lingering press of his lips, he
pulled back and faced her.

“
Piper, that man claims
you belong to him.”

“
I belong to no one.” She
could feel the heat behind her words.

“
He is from clan Grant,”
Piper inhaled sharply, “and he wanted you to go with him. He was
verra angry you wouldna leave.”

“
No kidding,” Piper
muttered.

Ignoring her, Colm continued, “He says
that if you truly are the daughter of Laird Grant, then you must go
back to your clan, where you belong. I told him you belong with me,
and that it is here you’ll be staying.”

“
He didn’t take that too
well, I noticed.” Piper’s feminist side bristled at being told she
belonged to Colm, but to be honest, she wanted to stay with
him.

“
Aye, you’ve the right of
it. He wants proof that you are indeed the daughter of the laird,
even though his captain claims you could pass for your mother. I
fear he wants you for himself. That man was Donald Grant, and he’s
been chief since your father was killed.”

So her father really was dead. As an
adopted child, she’d always hoped her parents were out there,
somewhere, and that they’d really loved and wanted her. They would
find her and take her with them, and all would live happily ever
after. Piper snorted. As if. Her father was dead. She was alone.
And she was supposed to believe she was born in the
1700s?

“
My birth mother? Is she
alive?”

Colm’s expression gentled, and she
knew what he was going say. “Nay, Piper.”

Deflated, she toed the ground with her
slipper, feeling less like Cinderella and more like Alice, lost in
her wonderland. But, never one to wallow, Piper lifted her chin,
sucked in a breath and looked him in the eye. “So, what kind of
proof is it that Donald wants?”

“
He wants to have the
healer look at you. She helped your mother birth you and he thinks
she’ll be able to verify who you are. I believe it’s a ploy to
entice you to his lands and then he willna let you go.”

Piper released a breath, and took
another deep breath, before speaking. “Why is it so important that
they prove my identity?”

“
If you truly are the
laird’s daughter, you have a claim on the lands. You are a threat,
Piper. He wants control of the Grant lands, and he’s had control
for years. He willna let go without a fight.” Colm paused, seeming
almost unsure of himself. “There are rumors of another
heir.”

“
I have a sibling?” Shock
caused Piper to screech at Colm, who winced at her
volume.

“
You may have. No one is
certain. It is said Laird Grant had a firstborn son, and that he is
true heir, but no one has seen or heard from him since you were
sent away.”

“
A brother,” Piper trailed
off, her thoughts lost in the knowledge that she might not be alone
anymore. Colm still had hold of her hand, and his thumb was rubbing
slow circles in her palm, reminding Piper that she wasn’t exactly
alone.

Chapter Seven

The two of them found
Caelen in his father’s
solar
staring at a map on the massive, dark, desk that
dominated the room. Without looking up, Caelen said “The Grants
were on MacRobert lands, aye?”

“
Aye.”

“
Have you said aught to my
father?”

“
Nay, I thought it best we
talk about it first. I have a nagging suspicion that they’ll no’
stay away. They want Piper.” His grip on her hand
tightened.

“
Have you any idea why
they want her so badly?”

Colm’s lips pressed into a thin line.
“Aye.”

Caelen looked up.
“Grissall?”

“
She kens more than she
told us.”

“
Of that I have no doubt.
She tells us what she wishes, and we are at her mercy.”

Colm growled low in his throat, “I
doona care to be at anyone’s mercy, let alone that of the
hag.”

“
Aye, you ken I feel the
same. Come, let us ask my father if she has told him more than she
has us. While we walk, Colm, tell me why they want her so much. Is
she truly the daughter of the old Grant laird?”

“
Donald Grant believes she
is. As does his first. Sometimes even believing something is
enough.”

“
Grant never needs a
reason to cause trouble. That man thrives on conflict.”

They walked in silence until they came
to a doorway. Caelen paused. He appeared to be lost in thought for
a moment, until he finally spoke. “It seems to me, that whether
Piper is or isna the true daughter of the old laird, that Donald
will take no chances. My guess is that he’ll try to marry her, or
marry her off to one of his more loyal clansmen. Since Laird and
Lady Grant died, there has been talk of the lost heir, but we all
assumed it was a son. Having Piper at his side, he would have a
more legitimate claim to the title than he does now. I’ll ask my
father if he kens aught about the missing heir, and if indeed
Grissall brought Piper here to cause trouble. She told us ‘twas for
the good of our clan, no’ for the good of theirs.”

Caelen pushed the door open and Piper
found herself back in her favorite room, the library. She may only
have been a part-time librarian, but she loved books, and she’d
always be a librarian, whether she worked in one or not. The
MacRobert was standing by the fireplace, his arm resting on the
mantle, glass of whiskey in hand. For a man old enough to have a
grown son, Piper thought he was still a handsome and impressive
figure. With broad shoulders a full beard, he looked just as strong
as Colm and Caelen.

“
Son, what business have
you here?”

“
Father, I ask you tell us
what Grissall told you. Why was it so necessary that we sent Colm
to another time to bring back this girl?”

“
You think I allow her to
give me orders?” Piper had a harder time understanding the laird,
his accent was thicker and she had to listen more intently to catch
his words and meaning. Although it wasn’t hard to catch his
irritation with his son.

“
Nay father, but we think
that she doesna do good deeds without a price, nor does she play
matchmaker, yet that is what she does now. Why?”

“
Ah, the lass. Come
lassie, let me see what prize I have gained for endangering the man
who is like a son to me.” He reached out and gently took her hand.
Colm released his hold on Piper and introduced them.

The man who looked like an older
version of Caelen stepped away from the fireplace, and lifted
Piper’s hand, bowing over it. She blushed a bit, earning a glare
from Colm. She shrugged it away. No one had ever bowed to her
before, let alone so formally.

The MacRobert held on to
her hand, and lifted it high above her head, turning her around
full-circle. “So
this
is the Grant lassie,” he mused.

Piper could tell Colm was losing
patience with his laird, but he held himself still, as did Piper,
who found it hard to hold the laird’s stare. It was Caelen who
broke the silence.

“
Why did we need her? What
was the reason to send Colm to another time?”

The MacRobert held Piper’s gaze for
another moment before looking to his son. “She is the
key.”

Piper huffed her annoyance and tugged
her hand from the laird.

“
You dare disrespect me,
lass?” The flash of anger should have warned Piper to keep her trap
shut, but she was really irritated at all the cryptic comments and
riddles she was supposed to take as answers.

“
I don’t mean to be rude,
but I mean, really? ‘S
he is the
key
,’ Really?” Piper mimicked, rolling her
eyes. “You took me from my time without my permission and expect me
to be satisfied with these non-answers? Gimme a break.” Piper
slammed her fists to her hips and plowed right on. “And by the way,
expecting me to believe that I come from another time? Like, what,
I was born here, but shipped off to the twentieth century as an
infant. Alone. With no one to take care of me. Sorry, not buying
it. And besides, you guys act like the decision’s been made that
I’ll stay here. I don’t recall anyone saying ‘Hey Piper, welcome to
the year 1793, have some haggis and let us rule your destiny. It’s
just one big game to you guys. Well guess what? It’s not a game;
it’s my life. Operative words there being My and Life. You so do
not get to tell me what to do.”