Chapter Eight
Brianna clutched her elbows as the wind whipped past them, making her shiver.
“We should go,” he said, waving toward the horses.
“Jamie, there’s one more thing I need to know.” When he gave her a quizzical look, she continued. “Something you said. That you’ve been waiting for me. That I appeared in the tapestries. What did that mean?”
His cheeks flushed as he glanced away, fixing his gaze on the loch. “’Tis hard to explain. It would be best if I showed ye.”
“Show me.”
“To do that, we have to ride back to the castle.”
“Then let’s go.”
It was a short ride back as the sun dipped toward the horizon, leaving the sky blistered with a fantastic sunset in gold and pink and orange.
It was hard not to notice the breathtaking beauty.
Once back at the castle, they wasted no time returning their horses to the stables and then headed back into the great hall. It was empty by the time they returned.
Brianna expected Chloe and Evie to be there waiting for her, but they weren’t.
It was just as well. She was tired, but she wanted answers. Then she would decide what to do next—staying here was likely her only option. She had nowhere else to go.
Jamie led her through the great hall, down a corridor and to a room with the door standing open.
Firelight from candelabras flickered along the floors and wall of the chamber that had one oversized four-poster bed, a fireplace that was cold and dark, and a chair beside the hearth.
Along the wall were several tapestries with images on them the likes she had never seen.
As she approached them, her heart pounding a wicked beat and her breathing shallow, she knew immediately they were something special, something enchanted even.
She paused at the first one, staring at the image of the three women standing on a craggy hill.
The woman in the middle had silvery hair billowing out to the side with something clenched in her fist and light seeping from around her fingers.
Upon closer inspection of the woman in the center, recognition slammed into her with such force she sucked in a sharp breath.
The woman in the center was the shopkeeper in Mystic Treasures who had given her the piece of keystone.
“Moira,” she whispered.
The next tapestry was of the same three women with swirling, dark clouds behind them. The ground was lit by bolt of light. The wind still whipped around them. Below them, an army approached with weapons held high and in the center of it all was a man holding aloft a glowing great axe.
She swore she saw the images moving. She looked away, shook her head to clear it, but when she looked back, the images were still moving in what appeared to be super slow motion.
The third tapestry made her gasp and clutch her throat. There was a woman with fiery red hair laying on the ground in a black dress and one arm out to the side. She was unconscious. The sky above her looked as though it had a rip in it.
“Is that…Evie?” she asked, peering closer at the image.
“Aye. When she arrived here,” Jamie said.
She stole a glance at him over her shoulder to see him leaning one shoulder against the doorframe watching her as she examined each tapestry.
He pushed off the frame in a slow, languid movement and then stepped into the room, joining her.
His gaze was focused on that first tapestry with the three women.
“This is the Night of Shadows.” He pointed to the first one. “This is what we call The Shattering.” He pointed to the second.
“Who are the women?”
“The Triple Goddess. They shattered the keystone into three pieces to protect it.”
His response made more questions surface in her mind. She started with the simplest one. “From whom?” she asked.
“The Clan MacDonald.” He pointed to the army advancing on the Triple Goddess.
Brianna noticed the wall hanging next to Evie then. There, she saw a familiar face—Chloe. And behind her, a man. Like the wall hanging showing Evie, this one had a rip in the space around Chloe and the man, as though they had tumbled through it. Through the rip, she thought she saw a city.
“Who’s the man?” she asked.
“Bruce MacDonald. He followed her through time.”
MacDonald.
The man she’d met on the street in Edinburgh said his name was John MacDonald.
Was he related to this Bruce? He had said something about the stone calling to him and that’s why he tried to get it from her.
The only person who would know the answer to that was Chloe.
She made a mental note to ask her about it later.
The final tapestry nearly made her heart stop. She moved closer to inspect it, to make sure she was seeing what she was seeing.
There she was, standing on a craggy hill with her hair billowing around her wearing a white gown. One hand was clenched and glowing. The other reached for something or someone. At the edge of the moving picture, she saw an image. Perhaps a hand reaching for her? It wasn’t clear.
What was clear was that she was in that tapestry. Just like her sisters.
She pressed cold, shaking fingers to her lips. “It’s me.”
“Aye,” he said, his voice low. “And this one, too.”
He pointed to the tapestry next to that one.
There, woven in the enchanted fibers, was another image of her falling through time.
Just like the one with Evie and Chloe, there was a rip in time around her.
And through that she saw what appeared to be the city.
She’d used the keystone when she was on the terrace of the museum.
“I ken ye were going to arrive when yer image fully appeared.”
This is what he meant. He was waiting for her to fully appear in the tapestry.
He’d said he was waiting to see her arrival.
Hot pinpricks danced along her spine as heat flashed over her.
She unbuttoned the coat and ripped it off, dropping it on the floor and stepping closer to examine the shimmering thread of the woven fabric. The images truly were moving.
“You knew I was going to arrive,” she repeated. “You knew because you saw it foretold in this tapestry.”
“Aye,” he agreed.
“That’s why you were there when I woke up.”
“I dinnae ken it would be today.”
She turned to face him. “So, you just happened to be in the right place at the right time.”
He stepped closer to her. There was no mistaking the burning desire deep in his eyes. His gaze was like a soft caress, leaving a tingling sensation in the pit of her stomach.
“’Twas good luck.” He grinned, one corner of his mouth pulling up which was so familiar now she found it endearing.
“And did I meet your expectations?” The words spilled from her mouth before she was able to stop them. She knew what she was doing—but flirting with this young Scotsman seemed harmless.
“More than ye can ever know.”
His voice was low and soft, rumbling around in that magnificent chest of his.
He stood a breath from her. She hadn’t realized he was so close until the moment he reached for her, cupping her face.
Nor had she realized he was much taller than her.
So tall, in fact, she had to tip her head back to look up into those devastating eyes that had such depth she thought she could fall in and never pull herself out.
When his lips met hers, she did not expect to feel anything other than a simple kiss, the brush of his lips on hers.
What she felt, instead, was so much more.
Her heart exploded with a fiery passion she thought long dead.
Her arms slid around his waist as they fell into each other, his body rock hard and solid against hers.
He was not like the men of her time—the men of her time who were soft and weak.
His mouth was tender and sweet and experienced, which surprised her. He certainly knew what he was doing when it came to kissing and she certainly liked kissing him. A mewl vibrated in her throat. Then he was trailing kisses across her jawline.
A part of her screamed at her to push him away, to stop this nonsense.
But the other part—the part so starved for this type of affection—refused to do that.
That part of her wanted more and more and more.
That part of her wanted this to never end.
That part of her wanted him to go on kissing her forever.
How long had it been since she felt like this? How long had it been since a man kissed her as though she was something precious? Something to be cherished. Instead of something to be used and discarded when he was done with her.
The answer was she could not recall a moment in her life when she felt so light, so free, so adored. And she was powerless to resist.
It was a heady and wonderful sensation. She never wanted it to end.
But then she came to her senses and pushed out his arms, stepping away from him. She needed air and space between them before she totally lost her head. It would be far too easy to fall into bed with Jamie MacLeod.
“Is there something wrong?” he asked. “Did ye no’ like my kisses?”
A weak laugh shuddered out of her. That kiss was everything and it would be hard to forget. “Oh, I liked it quite a lot.”
“Then why did ye move away?”
He took a step toward her. She took a step back, trying to maintain distance between them. She bent to pick up her coat from the floor.
“I think you know why. I’m tired and I’d really like to rest. I should find Evie.”
It was too soon to be kissing this young Highlander. Too soon for warming thoughts pounding through her.
“Why?” he asked.
“Well, she seems to run the place,” she said. “I figured she’d give me a place to sleep.”
His gaze never left her face, his compelling eyes riveting her to the spot. Then, that casual smile appeared.
“Ye can stay with me,” he said.
She lifted a brow. He was a bold one. She was not so na?ve that she couldn’t read between the lines. She understood an invitation to bed when she heard one.
“With you?” Desire pounded through her. Oh, how she wanted to say yes.
“Aye.” His eyes twinkled with hope.
His charms were bold, enticing, and endearing, pulling at her in a desperate way.
Part of her wanted to say yes, but she knew better.
She knew what would happen if she climbed into bed with him and even though he was handsome and willing, she wasn’t ready for that type of intimacy. Besides, he was far too young for her.
She smiled slowly and reached a hand to him, brushing his cheek.
“I do appreciate the offer, but I think it would be best for me to sleep in my own room.” She glanced at the bed with the thick coverlet and curtains on each post. “This will do.”
Disappointment flooded his features. “Are ye sure, then, lass?”
She nodded. “I am.”
It was for the best. She was in a weakened state and far too vulnerable. She needed to keep her distance, especially from the handsome Highlander.
He reached for her hand, took it in his, and kissed it. Her heart fluttered at the simple gesture.
“Good night, lass.”
“Good night.”
He left the room, pulling the door closed behind him, and sealing her inside the silence.