Cottage in the Mist Page 18
"Where is Macniven now?" Iain asked as Bram watched his father's friend disappear into the mist. No doubt in search of the perfect tree.
"I've left Collum Macilbra to guard him," Ranald answered.
Bram nodded with satisfaction. Macilbra was a giant of a man. Not one to easily be taken advantage of. It seemed Murdoc Macniven was well and truly captured. Which served the bastard right.
"Perhaps we should take him to your uncle," Iain suggested. "His attack on you would go a long way to proving your innocence."
"Would that it were that easy," Bram said on a long sigh. "All he has to do is accuse me of being the traitor and say that Murdoc was sent to tie up loose ends. The only way I'll truly have any peace is to take my vengeance on Alec Comyn. And then when we're finished with him, I'll be ready to face my uncle."
"And in the meantime, maybe we can coax the truth out of Murdoc Macniven." The hard glint in Ranald's eye gave a sinister twist to the word 'coax.'
From behind them out of the mist came the sound of raised voices. Bram reached for his claymore, his cousins doing the same, the three of them moving to stand back to back, weapons at the ready.
Frazier and two of Iain's men burst from the clearing. Blood dripped down Frazier's face, his sword clasped in his hand. He stopped in front of them, his breath coming in gasps. "Macniven has escaped."
One of the men with him nodded in agreement. "And Collum is dead."
CHAPTER 20
"WELL, THIS IS GETTING us nowhere." Lily dropped down on the bed with an audible sigh. She'd been clutching the damn brooch for what felt like hours, Jeff pressing the sgian dubh as if it was some kind of magic talisman. Which of course was exactly what it was supposed to be.
Only somehow it hadn't gotten the message.
"It takes patience, Lily. The last time I did this, it took hours. And a lot of concentration."
The room was cloaked in shadow, the moon having yet to rise. Mrs. Abernathy and Elaine had started out just beyond the bedroom door. But when nothing happened, they'd all decided that it was best if Jeff and Lily were alone. So after more hugging and reassurances, they'd left. Presumably for scotch-laden tea and comfort.
"So you said." Lily sighed. "But when you did it before you didn't do it with a stranger." Jeff opened his mouth to object, but she waved him silent. "A friend then. But both times you traveled, Katherine needed your help."
"Well, Bram needs yours. And even if she doesn't know it, Katherine needs mine. That has to count for something. We just have to focus our energy. Try and picture Bram. Think about how much he means to you. Concentrate."
Lily tightened her hold on the brooch with one hand, her fingers closing around the ring with the other, and obediently closed her eyes. If things weren't so dire, it would almost be funny. The two of them in here, clutching ancient relics and trying to slip back in time.
She shook her head and blew out a breath. Then she focused on picturing Bram. His chiseled face and arctic eyes. Slowly, as though through a mist, her mind conjured an image of him sitting in firelight. His face was tight with anger and something else. Something like regret. He clenched a fist and then relaxed it, but she could see the tension in his shoulders, the pain etched across his handsome face. She watched as he ran a hand through his hair, and her fingers tingled as if she'd been the one to touch him.
He tossed a twig into the fire and it crackled, the light expanding to a ring around what she could see now was clearly a campfire. Her heart cried for him, and she reached out a hand, but in so doing, released the brooch and as quickly as the image had appeared it vanished. Gone before she could protest the loss.
"What is it?" Jeff asked, jerking her firmly into the present. "Lily, tell me what happened."
She struggled to clear her thoughts, to find words, but instead she felt like she was drowning. As though she'd already failed Bram, lost him to a battle she was helpless to prevent.
"Lily," Jeff urged, his hands enclosing hers, pulling her from her terrified thoughts.
"I saw him," she whispered. "He was sitting by a campfire. And he looked so angry. And I… I don't know… so… so sad. It made my heart hurt just to look at him." She clutched at her chest as if the pain were physical. "Oh God, Jeff, I was there. But I wasn't. I could see him. But I couldn't move or talk. All I could do was look at him. Want him."
"Were there others?" Jeff asked, still holding her hands.
Lily nodded, forcing herself to push aside her roiling emotions and recall the scene. "He was alone at first. And then the light got brighter and I could see others moving in the shadows. I tried to reach out for him, Jeff, to comfort him. But in so doing, I… I let go of the pin. And he was gone." She looked up, anguish twisting at her gut. "Oh God, Jeff, I've lost him."
"No," Jeff asserted. "You just lost contact. But at least you know that you're still connected. And if you can do it once, you can do it again." His fingers tightened on hers. "But this time, we'll do it together."
*****
Bram stared into the fire, willing the image back. He'd seen her. For one brief moment she'd materialized in the fire. Reaching for him, her green eyes glistening in the dancing light. There for a moment and then gone. He fisted his hand, calling on everything inside him, needing her now in this moment more than he could put into words.
Damn honor. Damn her safety. Damn everything but the two them, here together. His mind knew it was a selfish demand, but his heart didn't care. He stared into the fire, willing her to reappear. And suddenly she was there again. Only this time she wasn't alone. His heart stuttered, anger washing through him as he watched her clasp hands with another man. A tall, handsome one.
His eyes glittered blue as he stared into Lily's. His long fingers linked with hers. She nodded once, then smiled, tightening her grip.
Bloody hell. Bram swallowed the curse. He'd lost her. In walking away, he'd driven her into another man's arms. Reflexively he reached out, gut churning, mind spinning. She'd been his everything and now… now... all he wanted to do was rip her from the stranger's arms.
"Mother of God, Bram, are you trying to get burned? What the hell do you think you're doing?"
The vision vanished, the fire popping and hissing as Ranald hauled Bram back from the flames.
"I saw her." He gestured toward the fire, his breathing still ragged, the anger inside him easing a bit as he realized how foolish he must look. "Lily. She was right there. And then… and then she wasn't."
Ranald's frown echoed both resignation and incredulity. "Did she have another warning for us?"
Bram shook his head. "No. She said nothing. Only reached out for what I thought was me, and then—" He dropped back down to sit by the fire, burying his face in his hands.
"Then what, cousin?" Ranald asked, his big hand settling on Bram's shoulder. "Tell me. It's no' like I haven't heard this kind o' thing before."
"I thought it was me she wanted, but I was wrong. She was reaching for another man. I saw him. I saw them." The words came out on a whisper, the pain biting so deeply he thought he might be sick. He closed his fingers around a small stone, clenching it as though it were a lifeline.
"There are other men in the world, you know. And being with one is no' the same as, well, being with one, if you take my meaning."
"They were holding hands, Ranald. And looking into each other's eyes. And they were standing in a bed chamber. Lily's chamber. The damned scene is burned into my eyes." He looked back into the flames, avoiding his cousin's gaze. He was disgusted with himself for his weakness and could only imagine what his cousin thought of him.
As if to underscore his mortification, Iain joined them by the fire.
"Bram saw Lily," Ranald said without provocation.
"Here?" Iain asked, his gaze moving from Ranald to Bram.
"In the fire," Bram mumbled, nodding to the flames as if they would substantiate his story.
"With another man," Ranald added, shrugging once in apology. "In her bed chamber."
"Well, just at the moment, they're both of an accord." Bram's hand tightened on the rock he was still holding. "They'd like nothing better than to have a go at the bloody fair-headed bastard that had his hands on my woman. And believe me when it's over, I'd be the only one left standing."
Not that he had any rights in the matter. He'd sent Lily back, after all. Abandoned her without even bothering to say goodbye. He'd done it to keep her safe, but he'd known she'd see it as a betrayal. And perhaps, in truth, it was.
"Fair-headed did you say?" Iain asked, breaking into Bram's thoughts.
"Aye, the color of straw," Bram acknowledged grudgingly.
"And was he tall?" Iain questioned.
"Yes. Tall and brawny and handsome, if you must know." His nails dug into the stone as he fought his emotions.
"And you said they were in Lily's chamber. At Duncreag."
"Come now, Iain," Ranald groused. "You don't have to rub it in. Canna you see that the man is hurting?"
Iain waved a hand absently in Ranald's direction, his focus still on Bram. "And the vision, it was in Lily's time, not ours."
Bram closed his eyes and forced himself to see her again—standing with the stranger, their hands linked. "Aye. Her time. His clothes were as strange looking as hers."
"Surely in this situation clothes are a good thing," Ranald quipped, lifting an eyebrow.
Bram scowled at him.
"And could you see the man's face clearly?" Iain asked, ignoring Ranald's attempt at levity.
Bram shifted his attention to Iain, uncertain where his cousin was leading, but then nodded once, humoring him anyway. "The damned thing is burned in my brain. All blue eyes and floppy hair—and he was smiling down at Lily as if he had every right to put his hands on her." Anger washed through him again, and he tossed the stone into the fire.
"You said he was only holding her hands. That's hardly all over her, now, is it?" Ranald was trying to help. Bram understood it intellectually, but emotionally it still wasn't working.
"Did he perchance look like my wife?" Iain asked, patently ignoring Ranald's nattering.
Bram lifted his head in surprise, his mind obligingly presenting an image of Katherine. Her bright hair and laughing blue eyes. He sucked in a breath. "Now that you mention it, he did seem to favor her." He waved at his own face, still concentrating on the images in his head. "The color o' his eyes and his hair, but also the tilt o' his mouth and the turn of his chin."
"You think it was Jeff making eyes at Lily?" Ranald asked, then immediately clapped a hand over his mouth. "I dinna mean…" He trailed off, his gaze dropping to his feet.
"Jeff?" Bram barked out the name. "Katherine's brother?"
"The man who came here to help us rescue her," Iain confirmed.
"But I… he…"
"Is married to someone else. Or at least I assume they married. He was most definitely in love with her when he was here."
"Her name was Elaine," Ranald offered helpfully. "She was Katherine's best friend before, well, before Iain."
"Aye, Lily mentioned them both."
"Then you've no need to worry," Ranald replied.
"You dinna see them…" Bram was having trouble finding words. "They were…"
"Anything is possible, I'll grant you that." Iain, as usual, spoke without gilding the truth. "But the Jeff we knew was an honorable man. And he certainly had no interest in any lass except Elaine."
"Then why was he—" Bram started, only to be interrupted by Ranald.
"You said they were holding hands. Looking in to each other's eyes." His cousin waited for Bram to nod and then continued. "Well, if I remember correctly, Jeff traveled both here and back on sheer determination. It's possible he was trying to help Lily."
"To do what?" Bram asked, anger, regret and frustration still clogging his mind.
"Get back to you, you great oaf," Ranald said with a frown. "I know from personal experience that telling a woman to wait for you is like waving a red flag and daring her to come after you. Especially if she fancies she's in love."
"Ranald's right. When a woman believes the man she loves is in danger—" Iain's gaze encompassed them both. "—there's naught anything anyone can do or say to stop her. The only thing left then is to offer to help in whatever way possible."
"And Jeff," Bram asked, a small glimmer of hope dispelling the darkness. "He's the kind of man who'd offer his aid?"
"Aye," Ranald nodded. "That he is."
*****
Lily fought against the hopeless despair that washed through her. She wanted Bram so badly she could almost feel his arms around her. Feel his lips pressed against hers. But these were memories and no matter how dear, they weren't helping her at all.
Instead she forced herself to concentrate on the feel of Jeff's hands. The warmth of the room, the shadows and light that were the heart of Duncreag. She focused on the image of Katherine and Iain. Katherine laughing up at her husband. She'd made it back to him, not once, but twice. Her love had led the way. Just as Jeff's love for his sister had brought him to her. And in turn Elaine's love had brought him safely home again.
Love.
Love was the key. And in an instant Lily saw the truth of it. Katherine loved Iain. Jeff loved Katherine. And she… she loved Bram Macgillivray. It might be insane. It might even be impossible, but it was true nevertheless. She loved him. And as long as there was breath in her body, she wasn't going to let him die.
She tightened her fingers on Jeff's, her mind reaching out—reaching back. For a moment it seemed she teetered on a brink and then the world went black, an icy wind cutting into her from every side, shrieking through the darkness, frigid fingers squeezing her heart and her lungs. Panic threatened. It hadn't been like this with Bram, but then they'd always been together.
This time she was alone.
And then as if in answer, she felt the strength of Jeff's grasp. And she clung to it even as the cold wind clawed at her, trying to tear her away. It tugged at her, pulled her… and then, as quickly as it had begun, it stopped, the only sound the pounding of her heart and the soft hiss of her breath.
She opened her eyes to the sight of tapestry adorned walls and a huge canopied bed curtained in dark velvet. The floor was covered with straw. And…
"Jeff?" a soft voice cried, the sound filled with wonder. "Oh my God, is that you?"
Lily turned toward the source of the voice. A slender woman in a pale gown with embroidered sleeves and a silver cord tied at her waist stood at the entrance to the room. Her golden hair fell in waves over her shoulders, her blue eyes flashing with delight.
"Kitty," Jeff breathed, pulling his hands from Lily's as he moved to embrace his sister.
Lily struggled for breath, her vision swimming, even as her mind presented all that she was seeing. They'd done it. They'd beaten the darkness. They'd traveled through time. Her heart rejoiced even as her head spun with the enormity of it all.
She tried to say something, but her mouth refused to work, her body tingling as the darkness encroached again. She tried to fight, but the pull was too strong and with a slow sigh, she slid bonelessly to the floor, her last thought that she'd been too quick to celebrate. That perhaps the darkness had won after all.
CHAPTER 21
"YOU'RE AWAKE." Katherine's face swam into view as Lily forced herself to sit up. She way lying on a bed, velvet coverings soft beneath her fingers. There were candles flickering in standing candelabras and tapestries on the walls and quite clearly she was no longer in her own century.
"What happened?" she asked, her voice coming out on a croak.
"You fainted." Katherine's tone was kind. "Not surprisingly. It's no picnic being jerked through time. Especially when you're doing it on your own."
"But I h
ad Jeff." Lily frowned, still trying to shake the cobwebs from her head. She glanced around the room, but Katherine's brother was nowhere in sight.
"True enough. But you didn't have Bram." Katherine held out a pewter tankard. "Have a sip of this. It'll help clear your mind."
Lily took the cup and sipped, then screwed up her face in protest. "What is this?"
"A mixture of herbs and a little bit of scotch. I'm afraid this part of Scotland doesn't run to the best in tea. And the herbs will help restore your strength. I've actually become quite good at mixing potions." She laughed. "Which makes me sound like either a witch or a tottering old fool. Welcome to the fifteenth century."
Lily shuddered as she swallowed, but forced herself to take another sip. At least one thing hadn't changed. Scottish restoratives were still laced with whisky. And despite the horrible taste and the strangeness of her situation, Lily found herself smiling. "I'm actually feeling a lot better."
She shifted, the pounding in her head reminding her that she was improved but not completely back to normal. "Is it always like this? Travelling alone, I mean? The first time I was with Bram I was injured and out of it. So I can't really say how I felt." She felt herself blush. "Well, at least about the travelling. And the next time was more like a dream."
"When you warned him about the riders in the canyon?"
Lily nodded. "And then the last time, at the cottage, he wasn't there—and then he was." She felt herself go hot again at the memory and Katherine's smile was knowing.
"I understand. It was never hard for me until the very last time. Iain thought I was gone for good. He'd sent me back to my time, you see. I was injured and he was afraid I'd never be whole again if I stayed. But once I was better and worked it all out, all I wanted to do was get back to him."
"Which you did." The answer was obvious, but Lily needed to say it out loud. "Despite what he wanted, you still came back."