The Highlander's Curse (13 page)

“Must I
remind ye that I’ve yet tae learn yer surname? Why no’ tell me that?”

Oh.

I
shrugged, hoping he didn’t see me stumble over my thoughts. “Well, for me it’s
obvious. When we met, I was alone, in a strange place, and for all I knew you
were connected to my kidnapping.”

My
Highlander slowed his forward progress and peered down at me. “What dae ye
think now?”

I
chuckled. “I really don’t know what to think. I now know you weren’t
responsible for kidnapping me, but I have no idea how I ended up two hundred
and forty years in the past.”

“So why
no’ tell me yer family name?”

His
piercing gaze met mine and I held it. “Michaelson. My last name is Michaelson.”

The
Highlander’s mouth twitched and he bowed low. “Well then, ‘tis a great pleasure
tae make yer acquaintance, Miss Michaelson.”

“You
don’t have to do that.” I laughed nervously. He really didn’t need to add to
his long list of ways to make me blush. “We’ve already met.”

“Aye,
but we didnae really ken each other.”

Cailen
turned away from me and continued on as the small patch of forest opened up
into a huge field of grass and weeds. I followed him numbly, lost in the
feelings and thoughts racing through me. He was right. We hadn’t known each
other in the beginning, but it seemed that with every minute that passed, I
liked that rugged, chivalrous Highlander more and more.

He’d
fought and killed a boar to protect me, he’d saved me from being forced into a
marriage with a psychopath who hadn’t deserved one to begin with, and he’d done
nothing these last few days but take the time to put me first.

For the
first time, I could imagine what it would be like to be this strong, fearless
man’s wife, and I liked it.

CHAPTER NINE

The sun was just starting
to rise when we spotted the first tell-tale signs of an eighteenth century
town. Kilninver came into view not long after we rounded the base of a hill,
and I sighed at Cailen’s confirmation of what I’d hoped we’d found.

We’d
stayed within a certain distance of Loch Feochan, which, as Cailen had
explained, broke off from the Firth of Lorne. I had no clue what he was talking
about, but latched onto the fact that whatever this Firth thing was, it shared
the name of the pub I’d gone to with Shannon.

That
thought had brought me to tears, and also somehow excited that hopeful part
that still resided in me. Did that mean we were somewhere near what would
someday be Oban?

“At
last,” Cailen said, slowing his pace as we passed a single house on the
outskirts of town. “I was prayin’ we would reach Kilninver before the
MacDougalls found us.”

“Do you
think they’re actually after us?” I couldn’t imagine them putting that much
effort into trying to find Cailen and me. They really had no reason to. Unless…
“Did you attack Donnan’s nephew?”

“
Eh?
Oh, nae, I didnae. He came after me, and I finished the fight. He gave me this.”
My Highlander pulled back the hair on the side of his head.

Oh
my…
The top third of his ear was missing,
and just behind it was a diagonal scar. Donnan’s nephew had actually sliced at
Cailen’s head! “Does it hurt? Or did it, I mean?”

“It did
when it first happened, but I got him a bit better. I didnae mean tae, ye ken,
but durin’ the stramash, I…well, I sort o’…cut off his hand.”

I
gasped.

“It
wasn’ae ma fault. MacDougall attacked me o’er the color o’ ma tartan. If he
hadn’ae, he’d likely still hae his hand.”

“So
that’s why they’d hunt us.”

“They
may. But it doesn’ae matter now. We’ll find a place tae stay until the sun
leaves the sky. We’ll leave during the night.”

We
passed sheep and long-haired cows that he called “heelin’ coos” as they grazed
in the grass. The sky brightened as we neared the small clump of buildings. “Don’t
we have to worry about being seen? If the MacDougalls come here, what’s to keep
us from being found?”

“We
dinna need tae concern ourselves wi’that here. These are good folk, Elizabeth.”

I
flinched a little at hearing my middle name. It was the first time he’d said it
since we’d been “properly introduced”. Why hadn’t I just told him my real name?
Why couldn’t I now?

“They’re
mainly cotters and fisher folk. They dae hae a new distillery,” he added, with
a wide grin. “Which is why they hae means o’ transportation that comes in verra
handy for a Scot like myself.” I narrowed my eyes and he continued, “They are
kent among a precious few tae be rather…discreet about certain visitors, if it
is so wished.”

“And it
would be wished?”

“Aye.
It would.”

We were
nearing the clump of buildings now, close enough that I saw an older guy step
out of his home and stretch as he peered out over the water. “Is the ocean what
you called the Firth of Lorne?”

“Nae.
Close though, I suppose. That right there is the Firth o’ Lorne. It’s a channel
o’ water that runs between the mainland and the Isle o’ Mull.” He stopped
walking and turned away from me, pointing at the land across the loch. “Dae ye
see that wee spot o’ land out there in the distance?”

I
peered in the direction he was pointing, seeing blue hills rise up from the
water. “Yeah.”

“That’s
the island I saw in the painting on yer cell phone. I ken the island well, and
that’s no’ far from the mainland where I found ye.”

“
Really?
”
Holy crap! I
was
close to where this had all started!

He
grinned, pointing in another direction. “Aye, and just o’er that hill is the Firth
o’ Lorne. If we were tae hike up tae the top, ye’d see Mull.” Cailen gazed at
the hill with longing. The base of the hill itself was still a good distance
away, otherwise we’d probably have already started hiking it.

“So
where do you think we’ll stay today?” I asked, breaking the silence we had
fallen into.

“I
dinna suppose ye’d like tae sleep on the beach off the loch, would ye? We’d be
able tae fish for our supper.”

“Ugh.”
I shuddered. “Not really. I
hate
fish.”

The
Highlander snorted, his smile lighting his entire face as he shook his head at
me. The smile began to fade. “Surely ye’re jokin’.”

I
lifted one brow and shook my head slowly.

“How
can ye hate fish? It isn’ae possible.”

“Oh, I
promise, it is. I can’t
stand
fish. The way they look and smell, and how
they wiggle around and gape at you when you catch them. They taste nasty and
you have to worry about their stupid bones. Oh, and their eyes.
Ugh.
Especially
when they’re dead, and they have those gross dead fish eyes.” I shuddered
again.

“Ye’re serious,”
he gaped, looking horrified. “I’ve ne’er met anyone who has such a dislike for
fish
.”

I hiked
my thumb at myself. “Well, you’re looking at her.”

“Well,
get ready tae enjoy ev’ra meal then lass, because they serve salmon for
breakfast, dinner, and supper.”

I
groaned as he stepped around me, laughing. He nodded his head in greeting and
spoke Gaelic to the man I’d seen stretching outside his house. Passing him by,
my Highlander led me directly to one of the houses, and knocked on the door.

A woman
answered, her eyes coming into view as she barely opened the door enough to
peer out at us. “Eh?” She glanced at me first and then up at Cailen, her face
relaxing into an easy smile. The door opened wide and the old woman allowed us
to go inside. “Oh, it’s good tae see ye lad, good tae see ye.” She turned
toward me. “And who’s the lass?”

I
couldn’t help but smile at her. She was just so warm and bubbly. Nothing like
Mrs. Ferguson’s distrustful glare. “I’m Scar—Elizabeth. My name’s Elizabeth.”

“Oh,
wonderful tae meet ye. I’m Mary Paterson.”

“How
are things, Mrs. Paterson?” Cailen asked as he shut the door behind us.

“Oh, ye
ken how things are. The whisky business is daein’ quite well. We haven’ae had
any tenants for a spell though.”

“Nae?”

“Nae.
It’s prob’ly been three…no, four weeks since anyone’s passed through and needed
tae lay their heads for a night.”

“If ye’ll
hae us, we’d like tae stay for the day.”

She
grinned up at him again before flicking her gaze at me. “I’d hoped so. Old
Uilleam will be pleased when he hears o’ it. Ye ken he’s right fond o’ ye,
laddie.”

The
thin, old woman whisked her way down the tiny hall and turned, facing the wall.
To my surprise, she pushed on the wall, and a thin doorway appeared.

“Ye ken
where tae go,” she said. “Would ye dae an old lady a favor and show yer lass
where tae sleep? I’ll fetch some blankets for ye.”

“Aye, I
will.”

“Will
ye be needin’ any food or drink?”

Cailen
and I glanced at each other, and I nodded. “Yes, please.”

Mrs.
Paterson blinked, her eyes widening. “Where did ye find a wee lassie wi’such an
accent?” I might have thought she was offended somehow, if it weren’t for that
wide grin that spread across her face. “We ladies may hae tae talk for a bit,
if old Uilleam and wee Cailen give us a chance, aye?”

Wee
Cailen?
I smirked, purposely not looking
at my Highlander. If I did, I’d probably laugh. There was nothing wee about
him. Everything I’ve seen and felt on the man definitely wasn’t wee.

She
stepped away from the hidden door and started shuffling toward the big room in
the front. “Awa wi’ye then. I’ll get started on breakfast.”

I
watched after her, only turning to face Cailen when his hand wrapped around
mine.

“I’ll
hae ye follow me doon. It’s a bit tricky unless ye ken where ye’re goin’.” He
gently pulled me into the hidden alcove and we shut the door behind us. After a
few more steps into the pitch black room, he stopped. “There’s a big step doon
here.” In illustration, I felt the jarring of his hand as he lowered himself to
a lower stair. “Then there are two more. Come on and step doon. I’ll keep hold
o’ yer hand.”

I slid
my left foot forward, toeing the floor until I couldn’t feel any more of it
there. Very carefully, I stepped, waiting for my right foot to actually touch
the landing.
Not yet, not yet. Holy crap!
I pitched forward, careening
into Cailen, who cursed and gripped me as his other arm wound around my back.
My face had landed against his shoulder. I knew, because it fit, perfectly
cradled in that spot between shoulder and neck. I had an overwhelming desire to
just lay my head there, resting it against the man who’d risked everything for
me. But I didn’t.

“Sorry.”
I pushed onto my feet again, but Cailen hadn’t removed his tight hold on my
arm. “I guess I just didn’t realize how far down the step was.”

“Dinna
fash. It’s happened tae me before. Twice while I was sober, and I canna e’en
count how many times while I was blootered.” He chuckled. “Are ye well enough
tae try the next step?”

“Yeah.
I think I’ll hold onto your shoulder this time, though.”

We made
it to the bottom without any other incidents.

“Stay
here.” Cailen’s feet shuffled through dirt. There was a scraping sound, and
then light filtered into the room from a tiny, open block that he’d removed
from the wall up near the ceiling.
“This hole
comes in handy durin’ the day. By nightfall, Uilleam or Mrs. Paterson will gi’us
a candle so that we might see where we’re goin’.”

I made
my way toward him, ducking in the tiny crawl space. Now that he’d opened up the
small window, I could see that there were ten beds inside, meaning that there
was hay thrown in piles with a single sheet and blanket spread over the top. “This
is supposed to keep us safe from the MacDougalls?” I asked, sitting on the bed
next to the one Cailen stood by.

“Aye. I
dinna think they would hae cause tae ken about this safe house. Mostly it’s
just clansmen o’ the clans on Mull that might hae need for a place like this.
Normally there aren’ae rooms like this underneath homes, so anytime someone
must hide, they’d crawl tae the top o’ the house and lay in the heather. If the
MacDougalls come, they’ll no’ think tae search under their feet.”

“So we
have to stay down here all day?”

A small
chuckle escaped him. “Nae. We can go up whene’er ye wish. I wanted tae make
sure ye kent yer way around doon here first, and tae let ye put yer satchel in
here as well.”

I’d
forgotten my purse was still around me. I drew it off slowly so it wouldn’t
catch my hair, and set it on the bed. “I’d really like to go upstairs. I feel a
little claustrophobic down here.”

“What’s
that?”

“It’s
when you get nervous from being enclosed in tight spaces. Like this dark
basement. It makes you feel trapped.” There was only one escape route in sight,
and it was up the stairs and through a hidden door in the wall. All around us,
there were slabs of rock—granite, maybe—except under our feet was dirt, and
above our heads were planks of wood.