Chapter 4
Natalie stormed down the hall, peeking into each and every door.
Where did this set end? Every detail was precisely as she’d studied—the rough-hewn beams, the scent of smoke and peat, the laughter of men unaccustomed to stillness.
Yet standing here, she realized the past wasn’t an exhibit or a story.
It was alive, wild, and staring back at her.
She was going to kill Carrie when she got her hands on her.
Yeah, it had been the best sex she’d ever had, and the man himself was utterly devastating. Her body tingled just thinking about him.
But what? So her friend had decided to give her a little gift—well, maybe not so little. A satisfied grin filled her face. Her wildest fantasy had been to be claimed by a Highland warrior. She should be thanking her best friend. In fact, she really should give her an award for a job well done.
How in the world had Carrie pulled this off?
Natalie found the stairs and hadn’t a care in the world for her naked form as she descended the circular stone steps. Loud noises rose from below. Ah, she’d found the end of the set.
So they had put on a show for her, and an amazing one at that. Well, she’d give them a little show, too. Laughing aloud at the boldness flowing through her, Natalie stepped off the last step when an arm grasped hers.
“Nay, lass. Dinna go in there. The great hall is full of my men.” The expression on Ian’s face was serious.
Natalie faltered a little in her steps.
“Ian, the joke is up. You don’t have to keep playing along.” Why did her voice sound like she wasn’t so sure?
“Natalie, it’s no joke. Look.”
Ian wrapped a plaid tartan he’d carried down the stairs around her body.
The rough wool was authentic, from what she’d studied.
The colors were those of the MacDuff Clan.
The green and red plaid caught the light, vibrant against the gray stone.
Was it possible for Carrie to have known all these details?
She could have taken one of Natalie’s articles on Highlanders.
But somehow Natalie was starting to have significant doubts.
Ian steered her around the corner and let her peek into the great hall.
Her breath caught in her throat, and her heartbeat quickened.
Warriors clad in tartans and leather boots ate and drank with gusto.
Some had already passed out, and lay face-first in their trenchers.
Others were sprawled on the floor, passed out and some had curled up with another warm body amongst the rushes.
The room spun, and Natalie’s feet didn’t feel strong enough to hold her.
Her eyes rolled back, and she felt herself falling, only to be caught by strong arms lifting her into the air.