Chapter Three #2
He glanced at Rose. She’d gone very pale, her eyes wide, as she took in the crowd. She didn’t look like some all-powerful spellweaver sent by a goddess. She looked like a woman out of her time, frightened and bewildered by all the attention.
An unexpected wave of protectiveness welled up inside him. He stepped closer to her side and bellowed, “Out of the way! Back, all of ye!”
They obeyed his command, making room on the path so that he, Rose, and Maggie could walk unhindered.
“Thanks,” Rose muttered from the side of her mouth. “That was a bit… intense.”
“Aye,” Cailean replied. “My apologies. They are excited, that’s all. MacFinnan spellweavers are something of a legend in these parts.”
Rose raised an eyebrow. “No pressure then. I don’t even know what’s going on here, let alone whether I’ll be able to help.”
“Oh, ye will, my dear,” Maggie said from Rose’s other side. “Lir wouldnae have brought ye here otherwise.”
She spoke with total confidence, her faith in Lir unshakable. Cailean envied Maggie’s faith. It had been a long time since he’d believed in anything.
As they walked up the winding path that led through the village and up to the gates of Dun Mallach, villagers came out of their houses to stare. Rose smiled and waved at them but most didn’t return the gesture, too awed by the prospect of a MacFinnan spellweaver in their midst.
Finally, they reached the castle gates and the guards stepped aside to let them through. Cailean indicated for the gates to be shut behind them, keeping the crowd out. Maggie excused herself to go and check on Drew and, no doubt, to gossip to everyone in the castle about Rose’s arrival.
“Wow,” Rose muttered, craning her head back to look up at the keep. “This really is a castle. A real, proper castle.”
“Aye,” Cailean replied, feeling a flush of pride despite himself. “This is the seat of Clan MacNeil. Welcome to Dun Mallach.”
*
This was all happening way too fast. Less than half an hour ago she had been making a cup of coffee in her kitchen and thinking about her divorce.
Now, she’d met a goddess, traveled back in time, fallen into the sea to be saved by a strapping Highlander, had a crowd of people gawping at her like she was a fairground attraction, and now, to top it all, she was in a castle.
A real, medieval castle complete with battlements and guards on the walls. It was too much.
“I need to sit down,” she muttered, folding her legs and lowering herself to the cobbles.
A heavy hand settled on her shoulder and Rose jumped, looking up to find Cailean standing over her.
“Are ye well, lass?” he rumbled. “Do ye need to see a healer?”
She snorted. “That would look good wouldn’t it? The healer needing to see a healer the minute she arrives? No, I’m fine. Just a little… disorientated.”
That was as understatement. She felt like she’d landed on another planet. Why had she listened to Lir?
“Aye,” Cailean muttered, scrubbing a hand through his thick, dark hair. “Ye aren’t the only one.”
Rose studied him. He looked to be in his thirties, and his chest was broad and well-muscled, as though he liked to work out.
Her mouth went a little dry and she forced her gaze to his face.
His shoulder-length hair was dripping water down his shoulders and when it was dry, she guessed it would be a rich shade of brown.
And his eyes… they were deep and dark beneath heavy brows.
Right now they were full of wary suspicion as he watched her.
Rose swallowed. She got the impression this man was not someone you wanted as an enemy.
“You act as though you didn’t know I was coming.”
“I did not. The first I knew was when I saw ye fall off the rock.”
Rose frowned. “But you’re the laird, right? Aren’t you the one who asked Lir for my help?”
His expression darkened, something like anger flashing in his dark eyes. “I wouldnae ask Lir—or any of the gods for anything. Not if my life depended on it.”
She suddenly remembered what the goddess had said to her. He willnae accept my help. Perhaps he will accept yers.
Was Cailean MacNeil the person she’d been referring to?
She opened her mouth to speak but her words were drowned out by the sudden sound of excited yapping and a shout of, “Papa!”
She turned her head just as a young girl and a black-and-white dog came zooming across the courtyard and skidded to a halt in front of her and Cailean. The girl looked to be around nine years old and had bits of hay sticking out her hair and rips in her dress.
“Catriona,” Cailean said in a low voice. “Ye are supposed to be at yer lessons.”
“I was!” the girl replied, looking between Rose and her father.
“But then Maggie came in and said we had a visitor and Sister Beatrice said I could come look and… and… and…” She trailed off, a little breathless.
“Is it true?” she asked excitedly. “Are ye really a sorceress? Have ye really come to save us?”
“Catriona,” Cailean growled. “Ye are being impolite.”
“It’s all right,” Rose said. She turned to the girl. “Catriona, is it? I’m Rose. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I don’t know about ‘sorceress,’ but I’m here to help. I’ll do whatever I can.”
She didn’t like making promises like that, especially before knowing the full extent of the problem, but the hope shining in the girl’s eyes made her want to say something.
“I knew it!” Catriona cried, clapping her hands together. “I told Patch just this morning that something would turn up, didnae I, boy?”
“Dinna get ahead of yerself, lass,” Cailean said. “Nothing’s been decided.”
“Have ye seen the stables yet?” Catriona said. “Or the kennels? Or the pond? How about the kitchens? Cook makes the best oat cakes ye’ve ever tasted!”
Rose laughed, holding up her hands. “Whoa! No, I haven’t seen any of that. I’ve only just arrived.”
“Then Papa and I will show ye around! Willnae we, Papa?”
“Not yet, we willnae. Our guest is wet and cold and no doubt tired from her journey. Perhaps she might like to change and rest first?”
Rose would indeed like to change first, but Catriona had other ideas. “But there’s no time!” she cried, taking Rose’s arm. “Sister Beatrice is already looking for me. Dinna make me go back to Latin today, Papa, please!”
The pained outrage on the girl’s face was enough to make Rose laugh. “We couldn’t have that, could we? I think a tour is just what the doctor ordered.”
Catriona beamed, stuck her arm through Rose’s, and led her off, a frowning Cailean and a capering Patch following close behind.
Rose was led through the big doors into the main keep where she found an echoing entrance hall just beyond, decorated with hangings in the same tartan color that made up Cailean’s plaid and that of many of the people she’d spotted so far.
Beyond this, a long corridor led deeper into the castle and she could hear the sounds of a busy household: people talking, dogs barking, the chink of pots and crockery.
“This way!” Catriona said brightly.
Rose was given a whistle-stop tour of the keep, then the kennels, the stables, the storehouses, and the kitchen, which was a large building separated from the rest of the keep to reduce the risk of fire.
Rose took it all in as best she could but the more she saw of the place, the more she felt like she’d stepped into a dream. It was so far removed from everything she was used to she kept thinking she would wake up in a moment and find it was all a dream.
But everything felt all too real. The smell of baking bread that tingled her nostrils. The weight of Catriona’s arm through hers. The glowering presence of Cailean behind. The sound of the sea crashing against the shore in the distance.
Oh, yes, it felt all too real all right.
They were just crossing the courtyard, heading back to the main keep when a stern voice rang out behind them.
“Catriona MacNeil, stop right there!”
Catriona froze, wincing as though a lash had struck her across the back. Rose turned to see a formidable-looking woman in a nun’s habit striding across the courtyard towards them.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for ye!” the woman snapped. “I said ye could go for a few moments to greet yer father and his guest. I did not say ye could be gone for over an hour!”
“Sorry, Sister Beatrice,” Catriona said, looking sheepish. “I… um… lost track of time.”
“Lost track of time, my eye!”
“It’s my fault,” Cailean said, stepping smoothing up to his daughter’s side. “I said she could give our new guest a tour.”
“Humph.” The nun put her hands on her hips and glared up at Cailean, not in the least intimidated by the man’s size.
“Be that as it may, my lord, how am I supposed to teach her to be a lady with constant interruptions? I have a hard enough task as it is!” She took a deep breath and turned to Rose.
“But I’m forgetting my manners. Ye must be Rose.
I’m Sister Beatrice. Welcome to Dun Mallach.
Now, if ye will excuse us, my unruly pupil and I have Latin verbs to catch up on. Catriona, this way.”
Catriona shot Rose and her father a pleading look as Sister Beatrice took her by the arm and led her away, Patch dancing along at the girl’s heels.
Rose watched them go and blew out a breath. “Phew. Please remind me never to get on her bad side.”
Cailean snorted. “If ye figure that one out, please let me know. Seems I’m always on Sister Beatrice’s bad side.”
Rose raised an eyebrow. “You? With your sunny disposition and charm? Never.”
He scowled but she thought she detected amusement in his dark eyes. “I get the feeling ye are making fun of me, lass.”
She smiled sweetly. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly before straightening her shoulders. “Now, shall we start at the beginning? Why don’t you tell me why a goddess thinks I might be able to help you?”