Highlander’s Awakening (Swept into the Highland Past #2)

Chapter One

“Come, if we dinna rise and return ye to your brother, Seocan will have my head. And my cock,” William said as he rolled out of his bed.

Ailith watched his long, muscled body move with ease.

She appreciated his fine form, his golden sheen of hair that ran from his head, across his chest like down, and leading to said cock and thick thighs.

She longed to lie in bed and admire his body – something that could have been spread across any fashion magazine in her time – but something else overwhelmed her on the heels of her admiration.

Shock.

That was the best way to describe her current mental state, despite the warmth that spread through her as she rested her gaze on William.

How else could she explain her meeting with the Romani woman’s powerful touch that sent Ailith back in time, her vow to protect these rare mushrooms so future scientists might prevent a horrible disease, and meeting her betrothed, William MacDougal?

From under hooded eyes, she peeked as her handsome and surprisingly romantic groom-to-be picked up clothes off the floor. She smiled to herself. And the fact he supported her odd ways and aided in her success in preventing the mushrooms from being destroyed?

Supportive. For the moment. She sighed and truly hoped his disposition did not change.

Ailith rolled onto her side and rested her gaze on William and his finely rounded buttocks. At some point in the morn, he had lost his braies and stood in full golden glory in the center of his chambers.

“We canna have him take your cock. I find it useful,” Ailith teased as she pulled the fur coverlet to her chin, hiding her smile.

Now here she was, in the body of her many-times-over great-grandmother, ready to marry this man.

The mind reeled at that thought. Crazy. If she were not living it herself, she wouldn’t believe such a thing possible.

She had not thought it possible that short time ago, when she was still Emilie Gordon, seeking out Eladon, the Romani woman. Emilie’s, nay, now Ailith, her life had not been the same since.

William turned to her, displaying his manhood so recently satisfied. He glanced down at his member, then grinned at her.

“What, and my head? Seocan can have that?”

Aye, he was quite the sight to watch as he strode around the room. Strong, agile, and more importantly to her and her future lineage, alive.

She should be pleased with all she had accomplished, ensuring the defeat of the mad king so he could not raze the eastern seaboard and destroy all the precious fungus.

Though her work was not done, Ailith could at least rest a bit, marry this powerful Highland warrior, and enter a life she never believed might exist.

Ailith kicked the fur off her body, rose from the bed, and removed her léine. Then she trailed her fingertips over his chest and down to his cock. She cupped it lightly, and he groaned, leaning into her.

“Och, aye. Here is what I need.”

With a firm arm, he grasped her against him and kissed her hard. After a morning of gentle kisses, this one was raw and full of need. She pulled away slightly and held his face between her palms.

“Ye convinced me. We’ll keep the head, too.”

William barked out a laugh that made his sky-blue eyes dance as he smacked her rear soundly. She squeaked and rose on her toes.

“Cheeky, lass,” he growled.

She pressed her lips close but didn’t touch his. “Ye dinna know the half of it.”

Worrying about her next step with the mushrooms could happen after her wedding.

Her wedding. What did she even have prepared? Old Ailith might have known, but as Ailith presently, she did not. Did she have a dress? What sort of dress did a medieval woman in the Scottish Highlands wear? She’d have to think about that one.

Was a priest at a nearby church? Kirk, she thought. They’d call it a kirk. The MacDougal Drumoak castle had a church, if she recalled correctly. Would she be married there or at the Gordon Tower of Glenbervie?

William chuckled again and moved toward the tall wardrobe against the corner of his room.

The night before, dark as it had been, Ailith hadn’t taken in the majesty of his chambers, and the wardrobe, crafted of heavy, carved oak and taller than the man himself, was part of that majesty.

He withdrew a fresh pair of braies, then paused and eyed his wardrobe.

“I’ll have to make room for your gowns, I presume. And your trunk.”

“We will stay here? At Drumoak?”

William nodded. “Aye, as my father and brothers and I keep our loyalty to my uncle Cormag, we remain near. And the keep is large enough for all our family and more.” He stepped into his braies and tied the laces, covering his well-formed thighs, cock, and buttocks.

Ailith sighed to herself, losing sight of them.

“Yet feel free to move or remove anything ye must to make these chambers yours. I have little need for much, and my chambers are rough at best.”

Ailith did not agree, at least in regard to the chambers.

He had a hearth, whereas she only had a small brazier to warm her room.

His chambers were wider, and the tall ceiling was buttressed with wide wooden beams. His four-poster bed sat against the long wall, above which hung a leather-covered shield detailed with the MacDougal sigil.

The plain-woven rush rug left much to be desired, but the set of stuffed chairs and solidly-hewn table were wonderful additions. And if he only had a basic wooden bowl and a dented copper pitcher for water, well, ‘twas as much as she had in her chambers at Glenbervie.

“I should fit in well here, I think,” she commented.

William pulled a dark brown tunic over his head and fastened his belt around his waist to hold it tight against his toned frame. Then he reached over and kissed her forehead.

“Aye, ye fit with me in all ways,” he told her, then flicked his gaze over her naked body and sighed.

“As much as I’d like to have ye again, mo ruaidh, taunting me with your breasts and thighs as ye are, I must go.

I’ll meet up with my father and uncle. We have much to discuss after last night.

I’ll retrieve ye after and bring ye to your father’s. ”

William yanked on his boots and took two steps to the door before rushing back. Cupping her generous breast with one hand, he kissed her hard again.

“Och. Our wedding canna come soon enough. Now get ye dressed, otherwise I’ll never leave these chambers.”

Wearing only her richly-hued crimson hair as a cape, she gave him a sultry side grin. With a long moan, William stepped to the door, turned one last, lingering look upon her, and left his chambers.

The door closed, and Ailith sighed and looked about the room. A polished silver platter leaning against the wall reflected her image quite well, an image she had still not quite grown accustomed to.

In her previous life, when she was Emilie, she had a short, strawberry-blonde bob haircut, hazel-green eyes, and a more slender frame.

Having come through time and living in the body of her medieval grandmother had meant her mind remained hers, just placed in a different body.

What a task to pretend to be the same person when, under the skin, she was someone else.

As Ailith, her outer appearance was so different, beautiful enough to rival any model on a magazine cover.

Most striking was her hair, reaching down her back in deep red waves almost to the point of curls.

Her hips and bosom were much fuller, gifting her body with curves.

Her eyes, bright green, shone back at her in the mirror from a much paler face over rosebud lips.

Kissing lips, her friend Ashland had once told her.

Ashland. Oh, how she missed her, but that friend from college was also one of the reasons that convinced her to make this voyage through time.

Ashland, like Emilie’s father, had fallen ill to a deadly disease, one only the scientists and the Romani woman said could be cured by an extinct mushroom.

This body and her marriage to William were not something she had even considered when agreeing to this deal of mushroom rescue.

Now that she was here, Ailith vowed to make the best of it.

Brushing her hair off her shoulder, she turned from her stark red, white, and green image and retrieved her léine. Time to dress and figure out what needed to be done.

First, she needed a kirtle. Her one from the day before lay in a pile on the floor, a stinking, dirty, bloody pile. She wrinkled her nose.

The battle the night before had been important not only to the Highland clans but in her efforts to save her plant. Several clans had aligned and, with the information Ailith gave William about the secret entry to Dunnottar Castle, the clans killed the king.

Unfortunately, it was not all without their own bloodshed. The chieftain of the MacIntoshes had been slain, as had the chieftain MacDougal’s tanist, his second in command, Brian MacDougal. A dear brother and uncle to William’s family.

Then, to add insult to injury, trying to use loyalties to the mad king and destroy the Highland clans, the Morays had found her and her younger brother standing guard by her mushrooms. And she had to fight for her life.

Och, but her martial arts training had been coming in so handy in 900 CE! Who would have thought?

However, all of that meant her kirtle was beyond repair. She should have burned it in the hearth the night before.

Did she have another kirtle she could wear? Probably not in William’s chambers. A plaid she might fashion into a kirtle, like the plaid arasaid cape – did Highlanders wear those yet? She shook her head. Nay she didn’t believe so . . .

A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Another knock at the door. Her life seemed to be a series of knocks at the door as of late.

Before she could answer, the door opened, and Muire’s fine-boned face peeked through, her blue eyes, as blue as William’s, sparkled.