My Seductive Highlander (17 page)

Lilia squeezed Graham's hands, sensing he'd reached the portion of his confession that he really didn't wish to say aloud. “Tell me the rest,” she softly encouraged. “I can't help if I don't know it all.”

Graham pecked another quick kiss to her knuckles, as though doing so gave him the strength to go on. “Mother Sinclair, Lady Trulie, and the MacKenna offered to banish me from Scotland. Forever. To atone for all that I'd done.” He pulled Lilia closer, staring sadly down into her eyes. “The only way the Buchanan would accept such an offer was if the MacKenna swore to turn me over to Clan Buchanan if I was e'er to return. The Buchanan accepted. And also promised if that were ever to occur, he'd have me publicly drawn and quartered. The bloody bastard allies with too damn many Lowlanders and has adopted their cruel ways.”

Graham's face darkened, shadowing his features with shame as he closed his eyes. “But I suppose 'tis just punishment. The Buchanan wished for all to see what happens to a man's bollocks when they go where they dinna belong.”

Lilia studied him, struggling against the wicked voice in the back of her mind whispering the real truth of the matter.
He didn't come to the future for you. He came to the future to escape so he wouldn't have to give up his beloved Scotland.
She wouldn't accuse him. At least not outright. All Scots, especially those from the distant past, had an unyielding connection to their land—a passionate connection so strong it was as if the soil of their blessed motherland were embedded in their DNA. “So, Granny and Trulie sent you forward in time to save your life while still keeping you in Scotland?”

“Aye.” Graham barely nodded. “The Fates sent them a vision. Instructed them 'twas the Sinclairs' duty to take me in and protect me—even from m'self—as partial penance for their dabblin' across the centuries.”

Lilia understood the truth of that and it did make her feel somewhat better about the whole situation. The Sinclairs had played fast and loose with time when they'd visited the past even though they knew the sacred tenet: don't change history. The Fates had looked the other way as long as they could. But finally, all the seemingly minor indiscretions had added up and the bill had to be paid—first with Mairi and her assigned breaking of Ronan's curse. The Fates had decided enough was enough and it was time to charge the Sinclair time runners with the duty of making things right for those whom they deemed worthy of saving. Apparently it was now her turn to pay a portion of the Sinclair dues.

But she had to ask the question. She had to know the raw unvarnished truth. “Why did they send you to me, Graham? Did they do it just to ensure I'd help you acclimate to the future? Did they just want to make sure you had a chance at surviving the twenty-first century?”

“Acc-li-mate?” Graham repeated the word slowly. A confused scowl knotted his bushy brows. “I dinna ken that word but I do ken this—they sent me to ye because they kent we were destined t'be together.”

Lilia searched Graham's face and set her empathic sensors on wide open. Then she exhaled with a relieved sigh. No deceit. No treachery. Nothing but pure unadulterated regret well seasoned with a silent plea for understanding, acceptance, and forgiveness. She pulled one hand out of Graham's desperate grip and gently touched his cheek. “It's all right. I'll just go alone. You and Angus can stay here where it's safe. It'll only take me a few days and then I'll be back and we can settle into our life together—here.” The note of finality in those words sent a strange mixture of emotions shivering through her: excitement, anticipation, and a tiny bit of fear.

Graham's face darkened into a thunderous scowl. “Like hell ye will.” He brushed her hand away from his face and took hold of both her shoulders. “I may be many things, but I'm no' a coward and I will be damned if I allow ye t'make this journey alone. I'll no' have ye fendin' for yerself in the midst of yer grievin'.”

“Bullshit.” Lilia turned out of his grasp, shaking her head as she circled the kitchen table. “You're not going to risk it.” He'd better figure out right now, when it came to stubbornness, she had him beat in spades. She pushed open the kitchen door and shouted down the hallway. “It's safe to come back into the kitchen now. We've got it all settled.”

“The hell we do.” Graham stormed around the table after her, grabbed hold of her arm, and spun her about to face him. “What kind of man would I be to allow m'woman to go through such a thing alone? What kind of fool would send his wife through the Highlands unattended?”

“A live one, dammit.” Lilia thumped him hard in the center of his chest.
Damn hardheaded Highlander.
“If you come back with me, Gray will be forced to turn you over to the Buchanan. He's clan chief. A man of his word. He would have no other choice. I'm not going to put either one of you in that situation.” She yanked her arm free and squared off in front of him. “You are my husband and if anybody wrings your neck, it's gonna be me.”

“I distinctly heard you say it was safe to come back into the kitchen.” Alberti held back Vivienne and Angus, the three of them craning their heads through the partially opened door. “Shall we give you a bit longer?”

“No.” Graham growled like an enraged bear, jutting his chin toward Lilia. “But ye can tell this—”

“You better be careful,” Lilia warned.

Graham's face shifted to a deep reddish-purple as he jabbed a finger at her and sputtered, “Tell this
woman
that she best mind the druthers of her husband like a good wife should.”

“Oh my.” Alberti turned and shooed Vivienne and Angus back down the hallway
away
from the kitchen. “We'll be waiting in the parlor,” he called back through the swinging kitchen door.

“You are a stubborn son of a bitch.”

Graham chuckled, reveling in the delectable taste of his fiery-tempered wife. He nibbled and kissed a slow trail up her silken belly before settling down beside her. Gently rolling her warm, limber, well-sated body to her side, he pulled her back against his chest and spooned his legs snug against the backs of hers. “Aye. That I am. But know this…” He cupped one of her breasts in his palm and settled his fingers comfortably in the cleft between their fullness. “I'm yer verra own stubborn son of a bitch until the end of time.”

Lilia giggled and nestled back tighter against him. “It'll be time to leave soon. I've set the alarm on my phone.” She patted his arm, then nuzzled a kiss against his shoulder pillowed beneath her cheek. “We really need to get a little rest.” She hitched in a yawn, then hugged his arm tighter about her and grew still.

Lore a'mighty. I've ne'er known such bliss.
He'd been so afraid when he told her all about his past that she'd quickly cast him aside. And who could blame her? He'd been no more than a selfish fool who'd allowed his cock to do all his thinkin'.

But that was then. Before he'd met her. The woman he couldna dream of livin' without. He pressed a soft, lingering kiss against her shoulder. Lilia didn't move, just barely shifted with slow deep breathing. She already slept. Poor lass. The past few days had taken quite the toll on her. He huffed out a silent chuckle. Aye, but she'd still found the energy to battle him and threaten to kick his arse if he didna listen and agree to stay in the future whilst she took Eliza back to the past alone.
What have I e'er done to merit such a fine woman?

They'd argued for what seemed like hours. At one point, he'd grown a bit concerned when she'd eyed the block of butcher's knives sitting on the counter. Lore, the woman had a fierce temper. He still sported a fading knot on the back of his head from where she'd beaned him with the pommel of her sword.

Alberti had finally interceded. Thankfully, the man had been listening to their ragin' from the safety of the hallway. He'd rushed in just in time to suggest that Lilia allow both Graham and Angus to accompany her. Angus could serve as watchman whilst Graham tended to Lilia during her somber task.

Alberti had wisely reasoned that all they needed to do to keep Graham safe was avoid any contact with the MacKenna clan and stay away from Buchanan lands. The trio could slip back to the thirteenth century unannounced, then slip right back out. The only way anyone would suspect something might be amiss would be if they happened to overhear the telltale boom of the time portal when it spat them out.

Graham relaxed deeper into the pillows. The soothing blue light of the full moon danced through the swaying tree limbs outside the window, painting a mesmerizing play of light and shadow across the bedroom wall. Bless the man, Alberti, for comin' up with the simple plan that no one else could seem t'find.

And so they would go. The three of them. They'd honor Mistress Eliza's last request and scatter her ashes across the Scotland of her girlhood, upon the verra rocks where she'd gazed across the sea.

Bless those three,
Graham silently prayed. Whilst he and Lilia stole a bit of rest, Angus, Alberti, and Vivienne worked below, gathering and packing all the trip would require.

Alberti had even promised to conjure the exact point of their entry back into the thirteenth century. Quite impressive since the man was no' a time runner nor a seer. He'd promised to use some…what had the man called it? Some sort of
app…
a small colorful picture trapped within the black mirrored surface of his strange tile of metal that turned into a window to thousands of worlds with a mere tap of his finger.

Lilia swore she could target the jump wherever Alberti directed. She said they'd land close to where Mistress Eliza's ashes would be scattered so the entire trip wouldna take over a day or so. He'd no' missed the shadows of sadness in his sweetling's eyes when she'd agreed the MacKenna clan would ne'er ken they'd ever been back in the thirteenth century—unless they happened to hear the time portal boom.

Pulling in a heavy sigh, Graham snugged his cheek against the fragrant softness of Lilia's hair. 'Twas his fault his dear sweet love couldna enjoy a wee visit with her family. She'd told him it wouldna matter. Told him she'd see them another time. After all, she hadna had the time to jump back and visit in several months. She said they'd understand.

Aye. They would understand but Graham's heart still ached at the unjustness of it all. Lilia needed her family right now but—because of him—she'd sworn to avoid them. He closed his eyes and inhaled another deep breath of her sweetness. He'd spend the rest of his life thankin' the gods for this woman and ensurin' she'd ne'er regret her decision to be his wife.

A high-pitched
beep-beep-beep
sounded from Lilia's cellphone as it buzzed and bounced across the table beside the bed. Graham forced his eyes open, rubbing the crustiness of weariness from their corners.
Lore a'mighty. I just closed me eyes a moment ago.

Lilia groaned, dragged herself off the edge of the bed, and stumbled across the room toward the adjoining bathroom. A dull thud sounded in the semidarkness just as she reached the door. “Shit!”

Graham lifted his head as the bathroom light flicked on, flinching with sympathy as Lilia hopped through the half-opened door, holding her left foot in one hand. “Be ye all right, m'sweetling?”

“I'm
fine
.” The door slammed shut and Lilia's huffing string of curse words accompanied the muffled sound of water running in the sink.

May the gods protect him. He knew that tone. His dear one was anythin' but fine. She was tired and cross and the safest thing for them all to do to survive this task would be t'get some of her blessed coffee down her throat—and quickly.

Graham rolled out of the bed, forcing his still-weary body into motion by stretching and working free any stiffness. He meandered across the room, jerked open the closet door, and found his clothing from the past. Good. Shield and sword were there as well. He pulled the items free of Lilia's tangle of boots and shoes then quickly donned them while she was still bumping around the bathroom.

“I'll be downstairs,
mo nighean bhan
.” He waited for a response, thought to call out to her again, then a deeply ingrained sense of survival changed his mind. Best let his dear one work out her preparations alone.

Alberti, Vivienne, and Angus stood around the kitchen table, double-checking the olive-drab cloth bags filled with the trip's necessities and Eliza's oak box. Graham propped his shield against the pile then settled his sword belt lower about his hips.

“Ye ken we'll be on foot.” Angus, once again wearing his clothes from the past, scowled at Graham from across the table. He lifted his chin to a jutting angle as though daring Graham to argue the point.

“Aye.” Graham kent it well enough but it couldna be helped. They daren't risk a visit to the MacKenna stables—no' even if he and Angus were to remain hidden whilst Lilia went alone. “Lilia says she canna control the great boom the time cloud makes whene'er it spits us out. 'Tis why we must target the highest point closest to the sea where Eliza wishes t'be freed then make our way down from there. 'Twill be less of a risk, less chance we'll be found out or cause any strife for the MacKenna. Dinna fash yerself. It willna be much of a journey.”

“Did ye no' wonder about the sound when Graham and I fell from the sky?” Angus turned to Vivienne as she shouldered him over then boosted her behind up onto the kitchen counter. She slid back then proceeded to swing her bare feet back and forth in front of the cabinet doors.

“Oh no, ducks.” Vivienne quickly shook her head and shrugged. “When festival is about, Edinburgh fair explodes with sound. Whate'er noise the two of ye made was more than likely thought to be fireworks or such from some o' the entertainment.”

A slow, steady clumping of boots echoed from the stairwell mere moments before Lilia's yawning countenance rounded the corner. She rubbed one eye with the heel of her hand as she ran a bleary-eyed glance across the items piled on the kitchen table.

The woman was wearing that? Back to the thirteenth century? Graham motioned to Lilia's clothing with an up-and-down wave of one hand. “Are ye certain yer dressed proper?” A strained groaning sound escaped him. He didna wish t'start their trek with harsh words but the woman needed t'see sense. “Women dinna wear such in my time. Ye should ken that well enough. What if someone should see ye?”

Lilia fixed him with a sleepy-eyed scowl then gave herself a quick once-over. “Jeans. Hiking boots. T-shirt. Lightweight camo jacket with big-ass pockets. This is the perfect gear for trekking across the wilderness. It'll be August there too and if we play our cards right, we won't run across anyone. No human contact. Remember?”

“Yer quite certain?” A strange foreboding, a sense of uneasiness took hold in Graham's gut and gnawed at him like a starving beast. If anyone saw Lilia dressed in such a way…Graham shook his head against the disturbing possibilities.

Lilia stifled another yawn as she snugged her leather belt a bit tighter and shoved a knife into the attached sheath. “I'm certain.”

She turned to Alberti and Vivienne. “Did you two find the kiddie pool or are we gonna have to use the birdbath?”

“Birdbath,” Vivienne said with a sad shake of her head. “I've no' a clue what Eliza did wi' the kiddie pool and I'm no' brave enough to sort through all the storage bins in the garage.”

“The birdbath's fine. All I need is enough water and fire to act as a conduit to open the portal.” Lilia hefted one of the bags off the table and strapped it across her back. She lashed a smaller bag about her waist and gently tucked Eliza's box into it then carefully clicked the double set of buckles shut. Pausing with her hands resting atop the bag, she stood staring down at the table as though trapped within her thoughts.

“Ducks?” Vivienne stepped forward, gently rubbing one hand up and down Lilia's arm. “Ye'll be all right, aye? Be back before we know it…yes?”

A troubled expression knotting her brow, Lilia looked at Vivienne for a long moment. Graham tensed even more, feeling as though he were about to wade into battle. His dear one was troubled over a great deal more than just the spreading of Mistress Eliza's ashes.

“Lilia?” Vivienne whispered, reaching out to take both of Lilia's hands in hers. “What is it, lovie?”

“If I don't return…” Lilia's voice faded to nothing. She took a deep breath, gave Alberti a quick glance, then looked back at Vivienne. “The papers are in the safe. You and Alberti have copies but my originals are in the safe. Everything goes to the both of you…because I love you.”

Vivienne pulled Lilia into a quick hug then took her by the shoulders. “Send word if ye decide t'stay there, aye? We'll need t'know that you're well so we dinna worry.” She turned and looked back at Alberti, who agreed with a quick nod. “And if ye come back…we'll have ye a stokin' hot pot o'coffee and a bottle a booze a-waitin'.”

Lilia's brave smile trembled the barest bit as she gave a single nod, then turned away. She cleared her throat with a nervous cough, resettled the bag straps on her shoulders, and headed toward the door. “Are you two ready?” She stopped and glanced back at Angus then arched a brow at Graham.

Nay.
He'd ne'er be ready to ride through that hellish maelstrom again, but he'd damn well do it for her. “Aye.” Graham scooped up his shield and the remaining bag, securing them both firmly and tightening the canvas straps across his chest.

Angus didn't answer, just stepped forward with his white-knuckled fists clenching the straps of the pack lashed to his back.

Lilia pushed through the back door, not looking back. “To the backyard then. Time to light the fires and get the party started.”