Page 5 of Love Beyond Time
“No. I don’t want to stay in Edinburgh, I think we should go ahead and try to get into the Highlands, closer to the ruins. I remember a little bed and breakfast we used to pass that was on the side of the road leading to the site. It was so charming on the outside. I always wanted to stay there, but never got the chance. We always just camped out on the grounds. I have no idea whether it’s still there or not, but I’d like to take a chance and see.”
“Alright. Anything else I need to know?” My blood pressure rose slightly when I learned that our night’s accommodations were anything but certain, but I swallowed my panic and set my mind to go with the flow.
“Yes . . . you’re going to need to drive. The rental’s a standard.” The corner of Mom’s mouth pulled upward as she suppressed a grin.
“Okay, no problem.” I chuckled slightly. Mom was an infamously bad driver even with an automatic transmission. I had never intended to let her drive us in the first place.
A chime overhead warned us we were beginning our descent into Edinburgh, and the captain came over the speaker system to ask everyone to return to their seats.
“Are you ready for this, sweetheart? I’ve always wanted to take you to Scotland, but you were always either in school or teaching school when I was here. I just know you are going to love it.” She stood and motioned for me to switch her seats. “Here. I want you to look out the window. It’s beautiful.”
I obediently scooted over by the window and raised the plastic shade to look outside. I stared out over the lush landscape and immediately understood Mom’s love for this country. It was where she belonged. I knew if I didn’t live in the United States, she would have moved here permanently after her divorce.
I watched as the ground slowly came closer, and as the wheels touched down on the runway I felt a small tug deep inside. Maybe this was where I belonged as well. Excitement built as we taxied to the gate.
Scotland was going to be good to us. I could tell.
Chapter 4
Scotland–1645
Eoin heard his brother’s footsteps before he saw Arran plop down next to him and swing his feet over the side of the stone wall that surrounded the castle’s exterior. The rocky coast that encircled their home calmed him, and Eoin often escaped here when something troubled him.
“Cheer up, brother. We haven’t seen Blaire in over ten years. Just because the two of ye were determined to make each other miserable back then, doesn’t mean ye will now. After all, ye certainly aren’t the foolish lad ye were a decade ago.”
Eoin turned to look at his brother. “Perhaps, but I canna stop thinking about the young lass who shot me in the arse with an arrow because I refused to let her have my horse. I still bear the scar! I canna imagine that she could have changed enough for me to feel anything for her.”
Placing his arm around his brother’s shoulder, Arran smiled as he spoke. “Who said ye have to feel anything for her? All ye have to do is marry the lass and take her to yer bed. Blaire was quite the beauty and, from what I’ve heard, she has only gotten prettier since we last saw her. I feel sure a number o’ lads would gladly take yer place. Consider yerself lucky, brother. Ye could be betrothed to Laird Kinnaird’s eldest daughter. Ye would be, if the old toad had anything to say about it. If I remember correctly, she was just as disagreeable as Blaire but not nearly as comely.”
“You’re right, o’ course,” Eoin admitted. “It’s not as if I expect love, but I’d rather no attach myself to someone I barely know. And as for taking her to my bed, if she is even remotely as difficult as she was as a young lass, I doona think her beauty will be enough to entice me.”
As Eoin listened to Arran’s laughter at his own disdain for his fiancée, the sound of footsteps made both men turn their heads to the trail leading to the castle.
“Here she comes. Let us go find out if the betrothed is apt to be as difficult to live with as ye seem to think she will be. I, for one, look forward to having a lass about.” Arran stood and waited for Eoin to lead the way.
“As if there’s been any lack of lasses about the castle with the way you parade them in and out every night.” Eoin placed his hand on Arran’s shoulder. “But let me make one thing clear to ye, brother. Regardless of how I may feel for her, she will be my wife. Ye are not to touch her, understood?”
“I would never! I may love the company of women, but I am quite looking forward to ye having a lass of yer own. Come. Ye best get that look off of yer face before we get down to greet her, or I predict that ye will start things off with yer bride on a bad foot, no? I doona think most lasses enjoy being greeted with a look o’ pure dread and disdain.”
“Right.” Eoin plastered the largest grin he could manage as he stepped back through the side window from which he had climbed out onto the wall and made his way to the castle’s entrance. He had just stepped into the hallway in front of the grand staircase, when he heard Blaire’s voice echoing through the hallways.
“There is no use in standing here staring at me all day. Unless ye expect me to carry all my things to my room myself, and surely the laird has more manners than that. But then again, I’m having a hard time remembering very many good qualities about him. He couldn’t even be bothered to greet me upon my arrival. I doona know what he has instructed ye, but I demand to be placed in whatever room is farthest from the laird’s. We are not married yet. I will only share a room after the wedding, and even then, only if I’m forced.”
Eoin stepped onto the staircase where Blaire could see him and interrupted her before she could berate the old stable master further. “Hello, Blaire. Welcome to Conall Castle. I apologize for not being here when ye arrived. I was sitting out on the wall when I saw ye headed this way.” Reaching the bottom of the staircase, Eoin stood before Blaire and placed her hand in his. Flashing a smile that would make the most beautiful of women melt, he gently kissed the top of her hand, his dark black eyes piercing her own.
“I’m not interested in yer charms, Laird Conall.” Jerking her hand away, Blaire bent and began piling her belongings into the stable master’s arms. “Believe me, this will be a marriage in contract and nothing more. Any man who would agree to such an arrangement is obviously deranged. If it were up to me, I would be laird of the MacChristy keep after my father’s passing. I would do a fine job, most likely better than him, but everyone seems to think women are only capable of breeding and pleasing a man, so I’m being married off. Do ye no think ye and my father could have made an alliance of safety without me being part o’ the bargain?”
Eoin watched as Blaire stopped fooling with her things, only just noticing that the old man was already holding more than he could carry. He didn’t move as she walked right up to him and jabbed two of her fingers right into the center of his chest, her eyes flaring with anger.
“But no. The great Eoin is too small a man to find a woman of his own. He is happy to wed someone who does not love him, care for him, or like him.”
Eoin’s temper rose as Blaire’s fingers continued to jab into his ribs. Seething, he grabbed both of her wrists. “Ye can set the lass’s belongings down, Kip. Go see that her horse is tied safely in the stables, and show her escorts to the dining hall so that they can have a good meal after their journey.”
“Right away, sir.” The old man struggled to set the large pile down neatly, then took off as quickly as he could out the grand doors.
“As for ye,” still holding her wrists, Eoin backed Blaire into a column that lined the entranceway. With their bodies touching and his face close enough to feel the heat off her breath, Eoin continued, “Has it ever occurred to ye that I may be as reluctant toward this marriage as yerself?”
“Not possible,” Blaire muttered under her breath.
