To Conquer a Scot (A Time Traveler’s Highland Love) Read online

  Perhaps King James VI was right in bringing forth ideals that would ensure Scotland became a peaceful, more stable society. His people couldn’t remain as hired arms, they should be able to choose their future, be it farming or iron works, whatever they wished. The time of clan battles had to end. And for Clan MacLeod, tonight would be his men’s last.

  The fighting went on relentlessly, the screams of men, the clink of metal hitting metal were like a razor against his soul. Aedan fought with his men, too many already fallen at his feet, along with O’Cain men. All their deaths nothing but a waste and his soul screamed at the senselessness of it all. Did these men even know what they were fighting each other for anymore? He doubted it.

  The wind picked up and with it came large droplets of rain. Aedan noted some of the opposing clan stopped, pulling back and dispersing into the night as fast as they’d appeared. Embers from the cottage turned night into day as they scattered across the ground, before the heavens opened up in earnest, the ground soon becoming a pit of mud and blood.

  With the last of the O’Cains pulling back, Aedan called his men to stop. He sent a scout up to the castle to fetch the elderly healer who’d taught Gwen all she knew, to come and tend his men. The young lad took off at great speed, as if the devil himself was at his heels.

  Aedan looked over to the small cottage that his sister and Abigail had hidden within. The thick thatch and a few pillars holding up the roof were now a smoldering mess on the floor. He helped tend the few men that he could on his way over to it, when a woman’s yell sounded from the cottage.

  “Braxton,” he shouted, catching the attention of his closest ally who was tying a bandage around a young man’s arm. “’Tis Gwen. She’s alive in the cottage.”

  The two men ran and smashed out what was left of the window, climbing into the shell of the building as rain continued to pour down. Forgetting the few injuries he’d sustained, Aedan made his way to the cellar.

  Large charred pillars lay across the floor. The thatch, still burning, burned the bottom of his legs. He ignored the pain shooting across his skin, and cleared what they could, as quickly as possible.

  Time ticked by agonizingly slow, and still he could hear the muffled female voice. Had Abigail stayed? Was it both his lass and Gwen? Were they injured, one of them dead? Panic clawed at his gut when they finally made the stone floor slab, lifting it and pushing it over.

  Smoke puffed out, the cellar unrecognizable to what it was. He reached down, hearing her choking cough, and lifted Gwen from the room.

  Braxton kneeled beside them, pushing Aedan out of the way to lift her up. He frowned down into the room, not hearing or seeing anyone else. “Is Abigail with ye, lass? Can ye tell me that at least?”

  His sister coughed again, the sound retching and raw. “No. I sent her home as ye asked.” She coughed again, trying to take a deep breath. “I didn’t have enough power to send us both through and so I stayed. She’s safe.”

  Aedan nodded, frowning. “Take her up to the house and don’t leave her side. The smoke she’s inhaled can’t possibly be good for her. Have cook bring up a broth for her and water. I’ll bring the healer back to see her once we’re done here.”

  “Aye.” Braxton left, clutching Gwen to his chest. Aedan set out to clean up the mess the clan war had wreaked on his people. He looked up at the sky, and the sky was as beautiful as the woman he’d farewelled only hours before. How could such heavens look down on such hell?

  He said a silent prayer that his lass was well and safe.

  Men cried out around him and he set to work, helping those he could, or notifying his able clansmen to take others up to the barracks and have them housed.

  Perhaps it was for the best that Abigail had returned to her time. This period of Scottish history wasn’t for the faint of heart, and although she wasn’t a whimpering miss, she didn’t deserve such a hard life.

  A future that was uncertain, and the times were unsafe, as she well knew.

  He would miss her, more than the very stars looking down on them would miss the night, but knowing she was alive, a young modern woman in her right time, lessened the blow. Or at least dulled it to a bearable ache.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Time, it seemed, had almost stalled. Arriving back at the hotel, Abby learned that it was, in fact, only later the same afternoon that she’d traveled back in time. No missing person’s file had been opened for her. None of her friends were missing her.

  If that wasn’t enough to make her depressed, the one person who had cared about her, loved her for the last month or so, was still in seventeenth century Scotland. She flicked on the television, listened to the news with little interest. Same shit, different day.

  How would she live without him?

  A knock at the door sounded and she opened it quickly, the hope that Aedan stood on the opposite side dashed as a silver trolley, laden with her room service order, was wheeled in. She tipped the waiter, the smell of hot chips making her mouth water, even as her heart dropped to the floor.

  She ate alone but she missed the clan meals, the laughter and chatter among Aedan’s men as they sat at the table, socializing and gossiping, telling tales during their nightly dinner.

  The thought was followed by another, even more disheartening. Would she ever see him again? Would Gwen be able to pull her through time once more? That was, if her dearest friend had lived to do so? In the rush to say good-bye, her panic of leaving without Gwen, she’d not told her to bring her back when she could. Stupid mistake, and one she’d live to regret forever, should she live her entire life in the twenty-first century.

  She finished her meal quickly, deposited the tray in the corridor, and headed for the shower. It felt like forever since she’d washed her hair properly, and she took longer than usual under the spray.

  Aedan would love showers. He’d certainly look mighty fine with water running over his delicious figure, soap bubbles running down his spine and between his perfect ass cheeks.

  Tears flowed as easily as the water, and Abby gave in to her emotions and sobbed. She missed him, would do anything to be with him again, and yet, the choice wasn’t in her hands, and possibly wouldn’t be in his or Gwen’s, either.

  ...

  Later that night, Abby started when her phone rang, the caller ID stating it was her roommate in the States. She flicked her phone screen and hit the speaker button. “Hi Sophie. How are you?” Benign conversation seemed the safest course.

  “Hi Abby. I’m calling to see how your vacation is going. Nothing new here, other than studying.”

  “Sounds like fun.” She sighed. “What’s the weather like?” Could she have any more boring conversation? It was any wonder no one liked to hang out with her.

  Sophie laughed, sounding like she was eating something on the other end of the phone. “I just wanted to let you know that I’m moving out. I’m moving in with John. He asked me to, and I thought it was about time we took the relationship one step further.”

  Abby nodded, knowing only too well how it felt to find someone you wanted to take the next step with. “That’s great.” Even if it would hurt her budget to come up with double the rent until she could find someone to take the room. “Can you advertise the room for me? I won’t be home for some weeks yet. I’m going to stay here a little longer.”

  “Of course. Actually, I may have someone already. She’s really nice.” Abby half-listened as Sophie rattled on about nothing important. She said, yes, no, and oh wow, where appropriate while she Googled information about clan MacLeod that only turned up information that she already knew. The library, however, had archives and there would be a more detailed account of any skirmishes and history of the area. Abby looked up the local library’s address and opening time.

  “Anyway, I wanted to touch base with you. I’ll see you when you get back. We’ll go for coffee.”

  “Sounds great. I look forward to it.” Abby hung up with a sense of relief. Only months ago she would’ve
jumped at going out with Sophie and her friends, but now, the concept of kissing other people’s asses just to have friends irked. If anything, Abby had learned from the past there was a strength in her she hadn’t known existed. A confidence that it was okay not to be the best at everything, that winning wasn’t everything. That she was okay as she was, even if it was alone.

  “Gwen, if you can hear me, as soon as you can, I want to return to Aedan. There’s nothing here for me any longer. Please bring me home.” If she expected Gwen to magically appear, she didn’t. Just the rambling of the television broke the silence that divided her from the man she loved.

  She was restless and rolled over in bed, unable to find a comfortable position to sleep, she was so impatient to return. The hardened body, smooth and strong, that she was used to snuggling up against, was no longer beside her, his even breathing lulling her worries away.

  As much as she loved this time, the standard of living most of all, she missed Aedan more, and it hadn’t yet been twenty-four hours. How would she survive if being back here turned permanent? She could never love another. The thought of learning to love again left her stomach in sickening dread.

  She stared up at the white ceiling, the flashes from passing cars the only light penetrating the room. It had been a comfortable space before she’d traveled back in time, but now she felt out of place. She’d become so used to the water lapping against the shore, the odd birdcall late at night, or the sound of the servants dousing the sconces, that now, this time no longer felt normal.

  Abby may have been born in the twenty-first century, but she wanted to die in another, as an old woman, warm in her bed, surrounded by the family she’d create with Aedan.

  She hugged her pillow, wondering what Aedan was doing, only to realize that his time had passed. He wouldn’t be doing anything. Was that how it worked? The difficulty of the situation made her head hurt and she closed her eyes, wishing that come morning, something, anything would give her hope that she’d see him again.

  It was a fanciful dream, but it didn’t stop her from yearning.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Eight weeks later and Abby was still in twenty-first century Scotland. Each day her mood deteriorated, to the point where she pondered doing physical harm to anyone who looked or spoke to her.

  Having gone down to the library the day after she’d returned, Abby had found out that Aedan did in fact survive the war and so, too, did the laird of Clan O’Cain. History noted that the O’Cains had scurried back to their lands, and the battle was known as the last clan battle between the two foes in Scotland.

  There was no mention of Gwen—if she’d survived or passed away from the fire. Perhaps, Gwen had died. That her only link to the past was gone. Both thoughts were horrific. Her friend was dead and Aedan was lost to her forever.

  King James VI had made an amendment to the law to stop such wars from happening again. Had, in fact, made the Scottish lairds make use of their men, by farming and a trade, such as blacksmiths or bakers. The start of a new era that still resonated today.

  Abby hadn’t been game enough to look any further into Aedan’s future, for fear of reading he’d married someone. Had fathered children to a woman who he had fallen deeply, madly in love with. The thought was a little imaginary, but desperation, want, and need, were playing tricks on her mind, and sometimes Abby actually thought she was losing it. Literally.

  She sat on a park bench that looked out over the Highlands. Little children played on swings and slippery-dips in the park beyond, dogs chased Frisbees and tennis balls. Not a breath of wind tainted the day. It was a warm, beautiful Highland day, and she hated it.

  The thought was soon followed with another. That she’d have to accept her situation in life. She wasn’t going back to the seventeenth century. That her dearest friend Gwen had perished in the fire. Her heart crumbled at the thought. And Gwen had had such grand plans for her future with Braxton. Of a long and happy marriage filled with children. That Gwen hadn’t pulled her back through time told her more than anything, that her summarization was true.

  She looked toward Druiminn Castle, standing high and foreboding over the town and Abby stood, walking toward it. If she was going to return home to America, to her old life and try and wrangle some sort of future in this time, then she’d say one last good-bye to Aedan. Up until now, she’d not been able to bring herself to visit the castle again. But now, it was time.

  It took her half an hour to reach the base of the grounds. The grey stone looked forlorn and sad, like her. She walked around, not that much different from Aedan’s time. The small inlet of water still flowed with the tide, but trees had grown where once there had been only barren fields.

  Abby walked around to where she thought the exit was that she and Gwen had used to flee. A wall of rock had been built in the hidden doorway, preventing the use of the tunnel. Her gaze lifted to the window that was Aedan’s anteroom.

  No handsome, wickedly sinful laird looked out at her, just the countryside reflected on the glass. The front entrance to the castle hadn’t changed, either. In fact, Abby was sure the doors were the same ones, weathered and creaking their only sign of old age. She stared at the brass plaque that was screwed onto the wood that stated opening times.

  She walked into the small foyer and paid her money to the lady sitting behind a little desk, waiting while she handed her a layout of the building for her to use. It was strange being here again, seeing it the same but so very different.

  The family still owned the estate, but were not in residence. It was probably a good thing, she’d hate to run into descendants of Aedan and his wife.

  Despondent, she walked into the hall and looked toward the dais. It was the strangest sensation being here, seeing pieces of furniture she’d used that were now accompanied with an array of others that spanned the four-hundred years of history that had taken place.

  She headed up the stairs, smiling at the memory of her first kiss with Aedan in that very spot. She’d miss him, would never forget those piercing green eyes that had a way of melting her limbs on the spot.

  The rooms upstairs were completely changed, and where she’d slept was inaccessible on the do-it-yourself tour. The sound of footsteps behind her made her turn, and she smiled at the young woman who looked at her in some shock.

  “Abigail Cross?”

  Abby stopped, turning back to the woman whose voice resonated with one she knew well. Of Gwen’s. “Yes. That’s me.”

  “Wow, I had no idea that an image I’ve looked at since I was a child would be something that would actually be standing in the flesh before me.” She shook herself, holding out her hand. “I’m sorry, where are my manners? I’m Kenzie, great, great, so many greats I forget, granddaughter of Gwendolyn MacLeod. Does that name sound familiar to you, by any chance?”

  The girl’s eyes twinkled with the same laughing gaze as Gwen had and Abby laughed. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Kenzie. You look like Gwendolyn. Did you know that?”

  “Aye. I do. Her features have been most prominent in all her descendants. Must be the magic.”

  Abby raised her brows. “You seem to know quite a lot about Gwen.” Did the woman know what had happened to her? Kenzie’s presence told her she had, in fact, survived the fire, so why hadn’t she brought her back? Did they not think her suitable for Aedan after all…

  “I know what ye thinking, and I think we need to go downstairs to a private room and have a chat. Would ye mind?”

  “No. Of course not.” Abby followed her downstairs and they walked into a small room off the main hall.

  They sat in plush sofas, the walls surrounded by bookshelves and large carpet squares. It felt very homey and comfortable. Instantly, Abby felt at ease.

  “I suppose I should begin with telling ye that Gwen survived the night ye left, did in fact go on to have a family with Braxton and a long life. The tale of your arrival in her time is known in the family as a folktale now, but I always knew you’d arriv
e one day. I just didn’t know when.”

  “If you know of Gwen’s abilities, why hasn’t she brought me back to their time? I don’t understand.”

  “She couldn’t.” Sadness tinged Kenzie’s tone. “After the fire, something changed within her. It wasn’t until her own daughter started showing signs of the ‘gift’ that she realized the only way to have you return was through her descendants. She made a vow and it was passed down through the female line, each child brought up to know of yer story and Gwen’s wish to bring ye back. I so happen to be the granddaughter who is fortunate enough to be born in the same era as you. And so, I’m to help ye.”

  Tears blurred Abby’s vision, along with the flicker of hope. Did this mean… “So, you’re going to help me go back to the seventeenth century?”

  Kenzie smiled, sitting back in the chair with an air of excitement. “I am. I’ll help you as soon as you’re ready.”

  Abby’s heart leaped to her throat, hearing the words she’d longed to hear. To think that in a few short hours she could be back in Aedan’s arms, talking to him, loving him as she desperately wanted, was a relief that poured through her like wine.

  “I’m ready. There is nothing left for me here.”

  Kenzie raised her brows, a little shocked. “Wow. You must really love Laird MacLeod.”

  Abby’s heart thundered and she touched her chest, needing it to calm down before it jumped out onto her lap. “I do love him. Very much.”

  Kenzie smiled at her admission. “I know ye do, but there was two stipulations Gwen wanted ye to know of. I’m to return ye twelve months after the clan battle against the O’Cains—after ye left. The first reason being ye cannot travel into the past if you’ve already been there at that time. ’Tis an unwritten time travel law. Secondly, things change fast in the Highlands, and in the hard time in which they lived, she wanted ye to know that no matter what ye see on your return, that ye trust in Aedan’s love. Can you do that?”