CHAPTER 23
Castle Burragh, October 1740
Our hearts beat as one. We looked deep into each other’s eyes and knew that our feelings were mutual. I had to tell
Payton, and it had to be now. I couldn’t keep this secret to myself any longer. But just as I was about to open my
mouth, he shook his head and took a step back.
“Sam, whatever I’m feeling for you, it’s not right. We can’t be together. I don’t want to get you into any more
trouble than you’re already in.”
“You won’t. Please, Payton, don’t say things like that.”
He pushed me from him as I tried to get closer again.
“Bas maillaichte! Everyone here in this castle is going to be against us, don’t you see? You are a Cameron. If this
fact shakes me to the core—me!—then how do you think everyone else is going to react? They are not going to see you,
the girl with the beautiful eyes who stole my heart. They will see only one thing—the clan colors of the Camerons. That
’s all they will see, I swear to you.”
“But—”
“No, Sam. We can’t see each other anymore. I will ask Father to assign someone else to guard you. Trust me, it is
safer for you.”
He was about to turn around and go, but I held him back.
“Please, Payton, stay! Don’t leave before I have told you the whole story.” I could see the agony in his eyes: He
didn’t want to leave. He wanted to be with me, but it was against his loyalty and honor to follow his heart. I couldn’
t even imagine what it would be like to be caught on such an emotional roller coaster.
“What I said before, about the future…” I tried to help him recall our talk earlier. “I don’t know how to explain
this to you, but your life really is in danger. Not now, but later on. You have to believe me.”
I was terribly distraught and hated hearing my pathetic attempts at telling him the truth while trying not to put the
responsibility and blame—about everything that would happen and needed to happen—on him. It was pitiful. Even I wouldn
’t have believed myself.
“Are you blessed with the powers of the second sight?” Payton asked, looking at me attentively.
Second sight?
I’d heard that term before. Clairvoyants were said to possess second sight. But nobody could say for sure whether it
was a blessing or a curse, I thought.
I recalled the fate of Cassandra, probably the most famous seer in Greek mythology. Apollo, the Greek god, had offered
her the gift of prophecy so she would give in to his advances, but she rebuffed him nevertheless. As a consequence, he
cursed her gift so that nobody would ever again believe in her prophecies.
I suddenly wondered whether I wouldn’t be burned alive at the stake. Was the second sight to the Scots perhaps as
unpopular as witches were?
“Uh, well, something like that,” I stammered. I was still contemplating whether time travel was less threatening than
the gift of prophecy.
Payton nodded. He seemed alert and interested, as if he thought magical blue vapors might suddenly surround me as I
pulled white rabbits from my sleeves.
“Do you believe me?” I asked doubtfully. I wasn’t sure whether I should continue talking if he didn’t.
A loud knock made us both jump. I backed a good distance away from Payton while he opened the door. Ross stood outside,
holding a bundle under his arm.
“What are you doing here, Ross?” Payton asked.
Ross looked up and down the hallway, then back at Payton, who was still standing in the doorway and blocking him from
entering the room. He tried to catch a glimpse of me, behind Payton.
“I have something. Samantha left it on the cart, and…uh, I mean, I wanted…I’m sure she’d want it back,” he
explained, lifting the package under his arm.
I recognized the beige-colored bundle as my old housedress, and even though this was the most ill-timed moment he could
possibly have picked, I was relieved to have it back. Walking past Payton, I stepped into the hallway.
“Thanks, Ross. How nice of you to bring it back.”
I smiled, but he barely paid any attention to me. His eyes bored holes into Payton’s chest; his clenched fists gave
away his anger.
“I didn’t know you had company. He’s not bothering you, is he?” he asked loudly enough for Payton to hear.
And Payton heard him just fine, judging by his contemptuous snort.
“No, Ross. I’m fine. Thank you for the dress. And please don’t worry about me. I’m under the laird’s protection
now. Nothing is going to happen to me.”
“I see.…Well, in that case…I won’t disturb you—I’ll just return this.”
He thrust the dress into my hands and took a step back.
“Slan leat, Ross!” Payton dismissed the young man. He stepped aside so I could return to the room.
But Ross wasn’t easily fobbed off. “Sam,” he said, “do they allow you to take your meals in the Great Hall?”
I shot Payton a questioning glance, and he nodded. His lower jaw twitched, something I’d seen many times when he was
annoyed, so I lowered my gaze. Ross noticed the nod, too, and slapped on a confident smile.
“I will see you there, then. I assume you will sit with the servants, and I look forward to your company.”
With that, he bowed politely and turned on his heel. I couldn’t make heads or tails of his actions. Before I could
exchange a word about this with Payton, two housemaids came walking up the hallway. They brought everything I needed so
that I could—as Fingal had ordered—wash the “travel dust” off me. They waltzed into my room, and Payton was forced
out into the hallway. I ran after him and grabbed his arm.
“Payton? Don’t leave. Tell me first whether you believe me,” I asked quietly.
He looked past me, down the hallway.
“I don’t know,” he admitted begrudgingly. “I have fallen for you, so I guess I should believe you. On the other hand
…you are also a Cameron…which is why I probably shouldn’t.” He wiped some dirt from my cheek.
“Go wash up. I need to think about it, Sam. I will come and get you for supper.”
With that, he left me to my handmaidens who must have been given orders to keep an eye on me. I heard them happily
giggling and chattering away while I washed myself.
An hour later, I was nervously pacing my room. I was clean and dressed in fresh clothes, and one of the girls had
brushed my hair and pleated it into a simple braided crown. The dark brown dress had a fitted waist and almost touched
the ground. A cream-colored arisaid, a cloaklike garment, covered the wide rectangular neckline—which in turn revealed
the thin, light-colored linen chemise I wore underneath.
I felt strange wearing this dress, but I realized that I had been given very high-end, expensive clothes.
The handmaiden who’d brought me the garments offered the laird’s thanks for my efforts in taking care of him.
Apparently there was a fine line between distrust, which required my constant surveillance, and gratitude, which had
yielded this wonderful gown.
What would it be like to turn up in the Great Hall wearing this outfit? Almost as if I were one of them?
A vigorous knock on the door jolted me from my daydreams, and I nervously pushed a loose strand of hair, which had been
artfully arranged by the handmaiden, from my face. I opened the door and found myself face-to-face with Payton. His jaw
dropped as he looked at me.
“Milady, I have to admit I am speechless. You look magnificent. Rest assured that the aversion of several McLeans
against the Camerons will decrease significantly once they lay their eyes on you. On the other hand, there is a
possibility that it will be the ladies’ turn to incite a war because you will be, without a doubt, the most beautiful
woman in the entire hall.”
His silly compliment made me blush, and I tried to curtsy before pulling the door closed behind me.
“Can I count on you to protect me should that case arise?”
Payton stared at me as if seriously considering raising his sword against his own people in order to protect a Cameron.
Then he winked, reaching for the strand of hair that had again fallen into my face and pushing it behind my ear.
“Don’t fret, milady. With me by your side, you are in no danger. The worst thing that could happen to you is this.”
He tilted his head and kissed me. It was a gentle kiss, almost only a brush with his lips. A touch as light as a ray of
the summer sun, and just as soft and warm.
“Ready?” he asked, placing my hand on his arm so he could escort me like a real lady.
“Have you thought about it?” I whispered as soon as we were walking along the hallway and our footsteps drowned out
our voices.
“Thought about what?”
“Whether you believe me? Payton, I’m serious. Time’s running out,” I implored.
“The more time I spend near you, the easier I find it to trust you. But let’s talk about that tomorrow. There is one
important thing I urgently need to take care of. After that, I am all yours, I promise.”
I had no time to argue, because we were entering the Great Hall. The tapestry-covered walls and high, wood-beamed
ceiling looked exactly as they did in my own era. Other than that, the room was barely recognizable. A suckling pig was
roasting over the open fire inside the massive fireplace, with two young, sweaty boys rotating it. There were a lot of
people sitting at the long wooden banquet table. I saw men in full Highland regalia as well as simple men in their work
clothes.
I recognized the overweight blacksmith and his skinny helpers sitting at the lower end of the table. I spotted several
women wearing similar dresses to mine, but also maidservants whose simple robes in pale earth colors were made of rough
wool and gave away their lower rank. A beer maid brought a mug of beer to the table and gave me a hostile look in
passing.
Suddenly dogs were bolting through the hall, and one of them made directly for me. It was Barra, who leapt toward me
with her tail wagging, full of joy at seeing me again. A sharp blow of the whistle stopped her from throwing me down
into the straw spread all over the floor.
In the sudden silence that followed, several curious heads turned in my direction. Some were staring at me, while others
put their heads together and whispered quietly. Still others spat on the floor as the name Cameron was carried from
person to person.
I felt sick to my stomach at seeing the blatant hostility toward me. Only Payton’s hand, which firmly held mine, gave
me a sense of assuredness. But even his eyes hardened. He stared across the hall toward Ross, who looked surprised—and
not altogether pleased.
“Come on,” Payton whispered, leading me to the head of the banquet table. Fingal, Blair, Sean, and Kyle had already
taken their seats.
Everyone’s eyes were on us.
Fingal got up, and I tried a clumsy attempt at a curtsy again, until the laird reached for my hand and allowed me to
stand up straight.
“Mistress Cameron, I am glad you have followed my invitation. Would you please raise the goblet with me in front of all
my people so we can drink to your oath.”
He handed me his goblet, which was lavishly decorated and encrusted with precious stones. His piercing eyes prompted me
to do exactly as he had commanded, and so I lifted the cup to my lips, and drank. A satisfied nod was his sign to me
that I could now lower the cup and return it to him.
“Mòran taing, milord!” I thanked him, glad to have memorized those few Gaelic words Payton had taught me.
He raised his goblet into the air with a satisfied smile, and he turned to the people in the hall.
“Please welcome Mistress Cameron as a guest in our midst—and drink!” he demanded. He motioned for the beer maids to
refill everyone’s vessels before emptying his; then he offered me a place by his side. Payton pulled out the chair and
handed me a full goblet before taking his seat opposite me.
I found myself sitting across from Fingal’s sons, on the women’s side of the table, and I greeted the lady beside me
with a shy smile. Her long, jet-black hair hung down her back. Several strands of hair to the left and right of her
temples had been pleated into braids, which had then been wrapped around her head in a crown. Her skin was lily-white
and in stark contrast to her shiny dark hair and emerald eyes, which looked at me with open hostility. I almost knocked
over my mug of ale when I realized whom I was sitting beside: Nathaira Stuart.
I could tell by looking at this mysterious beauty that she would have preferred crushing me under her heel like an
insect to having to share a table with me.
I reached for my beer to hide the uncontrollable shaking of my hands. I prayed nobody would notice that I had broken out
in a cold sweat. This woman was the source of all evil. She was a witch and a murderer, a liar who would kill her own
mother in the very near future. If her confessions at the motel back in the present were anything to go by, years must
have passed since she’d poisoned her stepmother.
And even though I knew that she was with Blair, somehow I hadn’t counted on meeting her here.
I wiped my forehead with the flat of my hand and didn’t dare lift my eyes from the table. I feared having to look into
this woman’s face one more time.
How many lives could I save if I killed her?
Somebody kicked my shin under the table, and I raised my head. I saw Payton’s questioning look, and I attempted a
smile.
“Can I offer you a piece of meat?” he asked, pointing at the steaming piece of suckling pig a servant was holding out
to him.
Suddenly, I didn’t feel hungry at all. I didn’t think I could swallow a single bite of food with Nathaira sitting
beside me. The thought of poison brought a bitter taste to my mouth, and the hostile look in her eyes made my blood
curdle. But it would have been impolite to refuse Fingal’s meal, so I nodded and pushed my empty wooden plate over to
Payton.
He loaded it with a slice of meat, turnips, and a chunk of bread before returning it to me. Then he offered me his
dagger so I could cut up the meat—other than that, we only had wooden spoons for utensils. I observed the other guests
to see how they skewered chunks of meat with the tips of their knives and lifted them to their mouths. Trying to remain
as inconspicuous as possible, I started to eat.
My nerves were raw, and all sorts of sensations washed over me simultaneously. The racket of the voices in the hall, the
smell of the food, and the heat emanating from the great fireplace all blurred to one fuzzy image overloading my senses.
Only Payton’s upset voice suddenly made me prick my ears. He and Sean were arguing.
“You think what about me?” Sean said. He sounded livid.
“That you’re chasing every single skirt you see. And don’t even try to deny it.”
“Amadáin! I just wanted to talk with her,” Sean defended himself.
“Talk, Brother? That’s why you had to sneak into the barn? Don’t play me for a fool, mo bràthair!”
“You can believe whatever you want to believe! But if you’re interested in what Aline told me in confidence, then shut
up and listen.”
Sean’s eyes met mine, and he tried to lower his voice so I couldn’t hear him anymore over all the noise in the hall.
Besides, something else was grabbing my attention at the head of the table.
A plump woman with gray hair arranged in neat waves was the cause of the ruckus. She’d yanked the goblet from clan
chief Fingal’s hand and was working herself into a very spirited frenzy.
“And believe that just because you’re a big man nothing can stop you! But I’m telling you this only once: Keep up
with the booze, and I will not stitch you up again when you tear open your wound in a state of drunken stupor,” she
threatened, shaking her fist at him.
I leaned over the table and whispered at Payton, who was also following the spectacle.
“Who is that? Is she crazy?”
Payton grinned. “That’s the honorable Nanny Mac-Millan. You could say she’s the heart and soul of this castle.”
“The heart and soul? She sounds like a gangsta rapper!”
“Gangsta…what? Don’t let her hear you say that,” Payton warned me, massaging the back of his head. “Otherwise she’
ll teach you some manners and give you a good ol’ slap across the head.”
I was confused. Fingal now actually got up from his chair and allowed himself to be led away from the table by the old
lady, like a schoolboy ordered to the front of the class.
“What? I don’t understand.…”
“Nanny MacMillan was our wet nurse when we were children. She’s also a healer, a midwife, and a teacher. She manages
our household, even though that’s not her job at all. Father is only too happy to let her do this, because we’ve been
lacking the female touch ever since Mother died. Nanny MacMillan fills that void.”
Laird and Nanny were almost out the door, when Fingal suddenly stopped and turned around. He called one of the
manservants to him and pointed in my direction. The boy immediately came over to me.
It was obvious that he had never talked to a Cameron before. I could see a mix of fear and disdain in his eyes when he
stopped to inform me that I was expected in the clan chief’s chambers right away.
“In his chambers?” I turned to Payton. “I’m not sure I can find my way back there.”
“I’ll take you. You can go back to work, Michael.”
The young servant didn’t need to be told twice and quickly disappeared amid the other servants. One look into Payton’s
sparkling eyes, and I had to admit that I preferred his company a thousand times over. Endlessly relieved that I had
survived dining next to Nathaira, I allowed my sweet Highlander to escort me from the Great Hall.
We could hear Nanny MacMillan’s voice out in the hallway. She sounded irritated still, but the worried, tender
undertone in her voice was unmistakable.
After a brief knock, Payton opened the door, and we entered. A young, delicate-looking girl stood close to the door
inside. She wore a tidy apron around her waist and a bonnet over her blond braids, and she looked like she was trying to
be invisible. She was probably usually on the receiving end of such angry outbursts, which made her feel guilty and in
the wrong even when Nanny MacMillan was scolding someone else.
The tough old lady had undressed the clan chief as much as necessary to remove the bandages. She was now carefully
touching and checking the wound, and when Fingal flinched under her touch, she was off again.
“Right you are. Pretend to be a little whippersnapper who knows no pain down in the Great Hall, but then cringe at the
slightest touch when you’re in your private chambers!”
“Be quiet, woman! Your constant nagging is impossible to bear!” Fingal exclaimed, motioning for me to step closer.
“By the way, this is Mistress Cameron. She took out the arrow.”
I curtsied to the older woman. She briefly looked me up and down before giving a nod and stepping aside so that I could
join her at Fingal’s bedside.
“It looks really good,” she praised me, continuing to check the wound with her fingers. “I couldn’t have done it
better, but I’m worried about the inflammation.”
Even my untrained eye told me that the wound was inflamed, and I didn’t know what to do about it.
“I tried to keep the wound as clean as possible, and I boiled the rags first,” I explained.
“We need some witch hazel and a little garlic, some yarrow, and a little help from our Lord, and he’ll be just fine.”
She shooed away the blond girl to collect the herbs and then busied herself grabbing strips of linen from the basket by
her feet.
“You were very lucky that the arrow didn’t kill you,” she explained to the laird. “If it had hit your chest just
slightly higher, then we would only be left with your cold, damp grave to cry over. In the future, you should leave such
things to your sons,” she suggested.
Fingal snorted. “In the future, I hope such things will not happen. I am tired of fighting. The older I get, the more I
long for peace.”
He smiled at me. “What about you, lassie? Are you the peaceful kind, or do you have war and battle in your blood?”
Even though he had said those words seemingly off-handedly, the back of my neck tingled.
“I can fight, sir, for things that are important to me. But I am not interested in eternal blood feuds.”
“That’s sensible, child,” Nanny MacMillan interjected while thrusting a small bowl of brownish ointment into my
hands. “There, apply this to the edges of the wound,” she ordered, and then made Fingal take a sip from a bottle. It
caused him to retch and gasp for air.
“Are you trying to poison me, woman?” he bellowed, wiping his mouth and angrily glaring at the old lady.
“What do you think? And now lie still so the child may apply the ointment properly.”
Nothing much else happened for the next few hours. We prepared a brew from the ingredients the servant girl had brought,
soaked the strips of linen cloth in it, and redressed Fingal’s wound. Nanny MacMillan would remove the herbal poultice
and reapply the bandages later on that night. She thanked me for my help and handed me over to Payton, who had been
waiting patiently for us to finish our work.
Payton now led me back through the darkened hallways, and a pale sliver of moonlight occasionally lit our path.
My days spent in this era didn’t really leave me with enough time to think. There was so much going through my mind
right now. Payton, who was waiting for me back home; Payton, who was walking by my side. Fingal and his recovery, and
the future that lay ahead of them all.
I was especially stressed about that thing with Kyle because I had grown to like him more every day. And then there was
the horrible vision in which I had witnessed myself killing Ross. All of this and more was going through my mind, so I
didn’t give it another thought when Payton entered my room before me. But as soon as he closed the door behind us, he
touched my arm and turned me around to face him. One look into his hungry eyes, and I knew what was on his mind.
“Sam, I…May I kiss you?”
I felt how difficult it was for him to hold back, and couldn’t say a word. Instead, I raised my face up to him. I could
tell that he really wanted to pull me into his arms, but he kept his passions under control and kissed me very gently
and then gingerly placed his hands around my waist.
“It’s…,” he mumbled very close to my lips, “this gown. You look positively enchanting. I’ve wanted to kiss you
ever since I saw you in this dress, and I’ve thought about nothing else all evening.”
His touch almost burned my skin, and I trembled under the onslaught of his kisses. Letting go of all fear, I allowed my
hands to wander underneath his shirt. Lord, he felt better than I could ever have imagined. I was elated. His kisses
were medicine for my aching soul, which had been so anxious and restless with worry. But in this moment, only he and I
existed. Only our love: stronger than time, stronger than the hatred the clans held for each other. Stronger than
reason.
The moment of peaceful bliss only lasted a short while. When my hand caressed his chest, coaxing a soft groan from him,
I noticed the missing bandage and the missing scar that I was so used to feeling on him. Suddenly I felt bad to the
core. As if I were cheating on Future Payton with Past Payton. Was I putting Future Payton’s life at risk because I was
throwing myself into Past Payton’s arms?
God, I was utterly confused. Either way he was Payton, right? So were my feelings for him right or wrong? I shrunk back
and wiped the stray hairs from my face that had come loose during our stormy caresses.
“Payton, wait.” I pushed him away. “We have to stop. I can’t do this.”
He ran his hands over his face, nodding quietly. “You’re right. It’s insane, and it’s dangerous. I have never felt
like this before, never had such a sense of trust with anyone else.”
“We are meant for each other, Payton. You have to believe that. It’s no coincidence that I’m here, but I can’t stay
with you. I will have to leave you again soon. There’s no other way if I want to save you. Payton, when everything is
all over, you will forget about me. You will forget about me, but you will be alive. Just trust me on this.”
Payton leaned against the door and didn’t say a word. Finally, he took a deep breath as if faced with a difficult task.
“Come here, mo luaidh, please.”
I did. I laid my head against his heart and snuggled into his chest. His hands ran up and down my back.
“Whatever you say, Sam—I will trust you, so help me God! I don’t know why I do, but I trust you, even though I don’t
understand a single word you’re telling me.”
I closed my eyes and only heard the beating of his heart. This heart was everything I ever wanted. No matter the era. I
couldn’t allow it to stop.
“Then help me, please,” I pleaded.
He pressed me against his chest and kissed the top of my head.
“How?”
“I have to find Vanora. Vanora, the witch. And then I have to get back to the little stone cottage where Ross and his
brothers first found me.”
“Cottage? What cottage?” he asked, suddenly sounding irritated.
I broke away from his embrace because his body, his all-too-familiar scent, was too unnerving.
“You know, the cottage by Loch Duich. I don’t know where exactly it is, but it’s near the shoreline and at the foot
of the Five Sisters. I have to find it.”
“That’s impossible.” He shook his head. “What you’re saying makes no sense, Sam.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, because whatever building you are referring to—they most certainly did not take you prisoner at Loch Duich.”
“They did! I’m sure of it!” I disagreed emphatically.
“It’s impossible, mo luaidh. The mountains you are talking about are on Cameron territory. No Stuart would ever dare
to advance that far into Cameron land.”
“Stuart? I’m talking about Ross and his brothers,” I explained, feeling unsettled.
Had my journey through time taken me not only to a different era but to a different place entirely? Was that even
possible? After all, I had not seen any traces of the cemetery when I arrived. But the water: I had seen water. I
recalled the fog that was, as I had assumed then, rising from the lakeshore. I put my palm to my forehead, trying to
remember.
“Ross and his brothers are Stuarts. Why else would they have taken you prisoner?”
If I was confused before, now I was completely lost. I sat down on the edge of the bed, and Payton poured some whiskey
into a cup and handed it to me.
“Ross told me his name was Galbraith,” I said flatly, cautiously nipping at my drink.
Payton had poured a cup for himself, too.
“That’s right. But Duncan and Dougal are Stuarts. They have the same mother, but their father is Grant Stuart. The
clan chief. Shortly after Duncan and Dougal’s birth, he recognized them as his own, gave them his name, and sent for
them so they would live with him and be raised inside his castle.”
“But…”
I didn’t know what to believe anymore. Where exactly had these men picked me up? I would need help from Ross if I
wanted to find the portal leading back to my own century.
“Sam, it’s been a hard day for you. You should go to bed and close your pretty eyes. Let’s keep saving my life for
tomorrow, because I worry you might collapse on me from exhaustion.”
The whiskey had indeed made me tired. I suppressed a yawn and tried to object, but my headstrong Highlander put his
finger on my lips.
“Shhh, mo luaidh. I swear to you that I will love you for all time, even if you don’t manage to save my life.”
He pulled the sgian dhu from his belt.
“I swear to you,” he said, making a cut across his hand, “that I will forgive you if you don’t succeed in saving me.
I will love you forever nonetheless, and I will die in the hope of having been worthy of your love.”
Payton dipped the bloody dagger in his whiskey, then carelessly dropped it to the floor as he raised his cup to my
trembling lips.
“Payton, I…”
I wanted to reassure him that I would save him, that I didn’t need his oath. I had no intention of failing.
“No, my sweet Sam. Drink—and then kiss me one last time before I disappear into the cold, dark night,” he demanded.
And like a puppet on destiny’s strings, I obeyed.