My Highland Lover (10 page)

Read My Highland Lover Online

Authors: Maeve Greyson

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Time Travel, #Historical, #Scottish, #Contemporary, #General

BOOK: My Highland Lover
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The bench seat made of woven twine creaked with Granny’s slight weight as she settled down beside Trulie. “Somewhat,” Granny finally said. Her voice sounded cautious…and guilty.

“Either you knew or you didn’t. There is no such thing as
somewhat
in a yes or no question. Is that why you brought me back here? To help solve the murder?”

Granny chuckled and replied with a vague “Perhaps.”

“Coira, are you still here?” Trulie wrapped her hands around the rough stick forming the frame of the flimsy bench currently biting into the backs of her knees. “Coira, don’t be a tease. You know I won’t be blind forever. Speak up.”

“Aye, m’lady. I’m over here in the corner beside the worktable.” Coira’s voice sounded a bit strained.

M’lady.
Who else was in Tamhas’s room? The only auras she’d sensed before her eyes were covered with slime belonged to Granny and Tamhas, and they cared little about servant versus mistress protocol. An uncomfortable twinge of foreboding plucked at her senses.

Coira didn’t use “
m’lady”
unless she deemed it necessary to keep herself out of hot water. Trulie gripped the edge of the seat tighter, fighting against the urge to fling the tickling cold mess off her face and scan the room again. “Have you been able to find out anything? Did you have any luck with the questions I wanted you to ask around the keep?” She very much doubted Coira had discovered anything. Even without her eyesight, she’d noticed how the other servants in the household had distanced themselves from Coira. They knew the girl was close to the Sinclairs and feared the advantage it gave her.

“Well…” Coira’s voice trailed off. Rushes scattered across the dirt floor shuffled with the dry crunching rustle of Coira’s movements. Coira’s familiar nervous cough interrupted the whisper of the dried grass. That nailed it. Coira had discovered something. Anytime her faint
ahem-ing
filled the air, it meant Coira didn’t really want to say what was on her mind.

“Well, what?” Trulie waited. If she turned and faced Coira long enough, the girl would eventually spill all that was on her mind. Coira couldn’t bear silent scrutiny…even when she knew Trulie couldn’t see her.

“I’m no’ sure ’tis wise t’repeat all I learned. ’Tis about yer chieftain’s half brother, Fearghal.”

“Well for one thing, he is not
my
chieftain. He belongs to Clan MacKenna.” Why would Coira say such a thing? Was Granny planting little plotting seeds again, even though she knew Trulie planned on returning to the future?

“Beggin’ yer pardon, m’lady.” The tone of Coira’s rapid-fire apology missed hitting true sincerity by just a hair. Trulie didn’t miss the note of tensed irritation in the pitch of Coira’s voice.

Trulie took a deep breath. Getting this information out of Coira was like picking up a boulder with a pair of tweezers. Why was she acting so leery? “Please, Coira. Share what you heard about Fearghal.”

“Cook’s lad said the man is a cruel arse.” Coira’s hesitant voice bounced from all around the room. Apparently, she was either pacing or exploring as she spoke. Coira was as inquisitive as a cat.

“Dinna touch that!” Tamhas barked.

The sound of pottery breaking and a pungent odor told Trulie that Tamhas’s order came a second too late.

Coira coughed and gagged. “What was in that jar, master?”

“Fermented marsh salamander, if ye must know. Ye just ruined a month’s work. Stupid, clumsy girl.” Tamhas huffed out a muttered curse as he smeared another layer of ooze across Trulie’s eyelids. Globs of chilly sliminess snailed down one temple and dripped entirely too close to her ear.

Trulie cringed and batted Tamhas’s hand away. Blind or not, she did not want rotten lizard entrails smeared across her face. “No more, and wash those nasty lizard guts off me right now.”

“Fermented marsh salamander doesna cure blindness. At least this spotted variety has ne’er been found to have any effect.” Tamhas’s insulted tone conveyed quite clearly that he did not appreciate Trulie’s presumptions. “Have ye taught the lass nothing, Nia?”

Granny grabbed Trulie by the wrists and pulled her hands down to her lap. “It’s herbs on your face, gal. Nothing more than simple herbs mixed with mud from the loch’s edge to speed along the clearing of your sight.”

Trulie relaxed back onto the woven bench. She wasn’t too sure about the mud part, and the goop still felt nasty, but she guessed she might as well go with it. “So Gray’s got a half brother who’s an ass. Is he a lot older than Gray, or what? And why did no one tell me Gray’s father had been married more than once? That could have something to do with the murders. If Fearghal’s the oldest son, shouldn’t he have inherited the job of chieftain instead of Gray?” Trulie mentally added Fearghal to the potential suspect list, along with some woman named Aileas. In the short time they’d been at the keep, Trulie had already picked up on the fact that the servant girls loathed the woman and did their best to avoid her.

“Gray’s father loved only one woman in his life, and that was Gray’s mother.” Tamhas underscored this observation with a disgusted snort. “Unfortunately for all concerned, Gray’s mother, Isabeau, was ne’er his father’s wife.”

Trulie understood completely now. Gray’s mother must have been the old chieftain’s mistress. She’d read how some high-ranking men in this time provided for women who weren’t their wives. What was it they called them? Wiggling her nose against the slime trickling down one cheek, Trulie turned toward Tamhas. “Then how could Gray become chieftain if he was illegitimate?”

“MacKenna blood flows through Gray’s veins, and he carries his ancestry well. He was chosen to be chief.” Tamhas snorted again as he turned away. “The son born of the chieftain’s legal union should ha’ been drowned at birth.”

The bench creaked with new weight. Coira’s familiar scent of lye soap and dried heather announced her presence. The hushed loathing in the girl’s voice conveyed her feelings clearly. “All of us agree with Master Tamhas. The wicked Fearghal is much younger than the MacKenna and greatly resembles one o’ Master Tamhas’s dried up toads he keeps in his wee jars.”

Trulie mulled over this newest bit of information. “Surely you don’t think Fearghal should’ve been drowned at birth just because he’s a dried-up little pipsqueak?” That didn’t seem in character for anyone she had met at MacKenna keep.

“Nay…” Coira drew out the word as though keeping her emotions in check was becoming an unbearable strain. “But he is wicked. I know this firsthand. One of the newest girls, a meek young lass, and newly orphaned afore she came to the keep, was one of the poor serving girls unfortunate enough to catch the evil Fearghal’s eye. When she walked by him one evenin’ with a tray full of trenchers, he kicked her feet out from under her and laughed when all she carried crashed to the floor. Then the cur told her he’d see to it his brother banished her from the keep for being so clumsy and wasting food. The MacKenna doesna tolerate waste when so many o’er the years have died the slow death of hunger.”

“What an ass.” Anger flashed hot through Trulie. She hated a bully. No wonder Granny had been in such a hurry to get back to the past and set things right.

“Aye. And that was nay the worst part.” Caught up in her story, Coira squirmed in place until the entire bench shook. “When the poor lass started a cryin’, he told her that if she didna…” Coira shuddered, shaking the bench even more. “He told the lass to service him or he would turn her o’er to the MacKenna for not only being a clumsy wench, but a thief.”

“That is a complete load of crap.” Trulie couldn’t stand it any longer. She scraped the hardening mud from her eyes and groped the air in front of her for water or a towel. “Help me get this mess cleaned off. It sounds like we’ve been brought here to clean house and we’ll start with that obnoxious little jerk.” Trulie nodded as a particularly wicked idea dawned. “Maybe I’ll let Karma neuter him. That’ll convince him to keep his pecker to himself.”

A shallow wooden bowl filled with cool water rose up beneath her hands and barely touched her fingers. Trulie leaned over the basin, splashed her face until it felt goop-free, and then batted blindly for a towel. She blinked away the moisture into the folds of the rough cloth and dried the residue off her face. Tossing the rag to the bench beside her, Trulie slowly opened her eyes…and gasped.

Electrifying eyes—those ice-blue irises resembling a lightning-filled sky—stared back at her. The man she’d nearly taken out with the truck crouched at her feet. Granny’s primary reason for returning to the past suddenly became very clear.

“You!” Trulie scrambled sideways and sprang up from the bench. A firm knowing settled within her as she remembered Granny’s words from that night:
Besides—I know those colors. He comes from a fine, upstanding clan. You won’t find a force on earth able to strike fear into a MacKenna.

Gray MacKenna didn’t say a word. Eyes narrowed and rugged jaw set to a defiant angle, he slowly rose and slid the bowl of water to the table.

Trulie whirled on Granny, her entire body trembling. “Out with it, Granny. No more games. You’re the only one who could’ve hidden his aura so I wouldn’t know he was here. No more crap about dying wishes or solving murders. I want the truth and I want it now. You hinted at seeing me settled. You said you had a plan for all your granddaughters.” Trulie jerked her head toward Gray. “I suppose you think if I fall for him, I’ll stay in the past forever?”

Granny’s eyes widened. Her mouth opened and then pressed tightly closed as if she thought better of what she was about to say.

Dammit.
Trulie was sick and tired of everyone else’s choices controlling her entire life
.
She was a freaking adult now. It was time she lived or died by her own choices. Getting angrier by the minute, Trulie jabbed an accusing finger at Tamhas. “And what part did you have in all this? I know you’ve been contacting Granny through the fire portal. But I thought you two were just carrying on an over-the-eras relationship until you could be reunited. Are you in on this matchmaking crap too?”

With an angry toss of her head toward Gray, Trulie took another step toward the old man frowning down into the greasy bowl clenched between his hands. “Does that poor man over there even know who or what we are? Does he have any idea how you’re attempting to complicate his life?”

“Poor man?” His tensed expression a darkening storm cloud, Gray pushed forward. “Do I look like a
poor
man t’ye?”

Trulie spun, then jerked to a stop. The tip of her nose almost touched Gray’s breastbone. Gritting her teeth, she thumped Gray in the center of his chest, then shook her finger just inches from the end of his nose.
Poor guy. You’ve got no idea you’re about to bite off more than you can chew
. “One hard head at a time. Get in line and wait your turn.”

Gray’s eyes flared wide. He looked as though he was about to bare his teeth and snarl.

“Don’t give me that insulted-chief look,” Trulie warned before turning back to Tamhas. “Answer me. Did you set him in the middle of my road that night or did Granny do it?”

“Both,” Granny snapped as she pulled Trulie back and placed herself between Trulie and Tamhas. “You refused to listen. We had to do something drastic.”

“I wouldn’t listen?” Trulie could not believe what she had just heard. Granny had completely betrayed her. If they hadn’t lost that truckload of inventory and had to suspend their Internet sales, she would’ve never entertained the thought of leaving the shop in her sisters’ care while she took Granny back to the past. But the ruined truckload, the ongoing war with Mrs. Hagerty, and the realization that her personal life sucked finally convinced her to take a little time off from the twenty-first century.

A cold feeling of certainty settled in her bones. They were here because of Granny’s grand plan. “How far would you have gone to get me back to this century, Granny? What are you capable of doing to get your own way and carry out your plans?”

Granny didn’t answer—just dropped her chin and stared at the ground.

Trulie turned to the wide-eyed girl sitting on the bench. Coira was a mere slip of a girl. Her tiny appearance somehow didn’t fit her robust belly laugh and larger-than-life sense of humor. “Coira, you’ve never seemed very surprised by anything I’ve ever told you. Did they suck you into their scheming too?”

Coira’s reddish-blonde curls trembled as she stared down at her freckle-dusted hands clasped tightly in her lap. “Nay, mistress. I swear t’ye I know of no plot. I only know I was meant t’serve ye.”

“What about the girls back home?” Trulie asked.

Granny shook her head. “No. Your sisters only know what you were told. They think we came back here to get me set for my final leap with Tamhas and that you would then return to them back in the future. They all figured you’d never be happy here in this time, so you’d return as soon as I was settled.”

Gray pushed forward, wrapped a strong hand around her upper arm, and turned her back toward him. “Ye spoke of a strange night. A dark road. That unholy thing was of yer doing?” Gray grabbed her other shoulder and pulled her closer still. “Ye controlled the monster with the glowing eyes. Ye tried to kill me?”

Trulie squirmed out of Gray’s grasp. “I did not try to kill you. Granny and your sorcerer over there plopped you in the middle of the road just as I drove through. If you’re pissed at anyone, be pissed at them. I know I am.”

“And…and…as for you two,” Trulie sputtered.
Dammit!
Now was not the time for her emotionally triggered stutter to return. She’d finally gotten that irritating trait under control when she’d escaped the stress of high school. Trulie took a deep breath and pointed her finger at Tamhas while at the same time staring down Granny. “It will be a cold d-day in hell before I ever believe a single word out of either of you again.”

Trulie stomped across the room and yanked open the door. Without looking back, she squared her shoulders and growled. “Come on, Karma. We’ve got a trip back to the future to plan.”

The dog rose from beside the bench, trotted past Trulie, then turned and waited. Trulie glared back into the room one last time then stomped out and slammed the door behind her.

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