Down the Rabbit Hole

Colin returned to his horse, mounted, and led the way from the stable area.

The horsemen fanned out in a wide circle, except for their host, who reined in his stallion so that he could easily ride alongside Beth.

Why had she worked herself up over this? What could she possibly have to fear on this lovely, sunny day?

At the end of the day, when the contest had been decided and the men were celebrating, she would find time to talk privately with her host and present the firm’s offer once again.

She would close the deal, ride off into the sunset, and return to her firm to enjoy the spoils of victory.

And she would remember for a lifetime that memorable kiss from a Scottish nobleman.

Lulled by that thought, Beth let go of the last of her tension. She’d never seen a lovelier place. With the sun high above, and a field of heather all around, she decided to take the time to savor the view and simply enjoy the day.


*

“So.” Colin’s voice was low, so as not to be overheard by his guests. “You seem clearer of head with each passing hour. Have you put aside whatever was troubling you last night, my lady?”

“I have, thank you. I know I caused quite a fuss when I crashed your party last night. Blame it on the fall.” Beth touched a hand to her head. “I’ve got a nasty bump. But other than that, I’m fine.”

“Fine indeed.” He was studying her far too closely. “And fair of face.”

At his words, his gaze moved over her with a thoroughness that had the heat rushing to her cheeks. Almost as if, she thought, he was replaying their kiss in his mind.

He cleared his throat. “You remind me not of any Campbell. Neither in looks nor demeanor.”

“I’m told I take after my father, though I don’t remember him. He died when I was very young. And I’ve seen pictures of my mother. I have her eyes. She was a Douglas. Cybil Douglas Campbell.”

His eyes narrowed in thought. “You’re a long way from either clan.”

“Actually, I wasn’t born in Scotland.”

“England, then?”

She shook her head. “I’m from New York.”

At his puzzled frown she added, “America.”

“I know of it. I’ve heard it described as a primitive place.” He glanced skyward, to watch the path of an eagle soaring toward a distant ridge of trees.

Beth felt a quick rush of alarm. Was he teasing her? Or could it be as she’d feared? Could that fall have pushed her into another dimension? Some strange, mythical world? In truth, hadn’t she felt as though she’d traveled back in time to some long-ago place of her imagination, where animals walked upright and some even turned into noble heroes?

She arched a brow. “Tell me something. Do you invite your friends here often?”

“This is a rare respite. As you well know, the times are troubling. Our beloved Highlands are divided. Some of the clans have grown rich accepting favors from the English. They would swear fealty to the English queen, subjugate the surrounding clans and strip us of our ancient lands and titles unless we do the same. But we will stand by our beloved Mary. With our Highland warriors at her side, she will prevail, and all disputes will be settled.”

Stunned, Beth thought about the Scottish history that she’d so loved in her college years. If what this man said was actually true, she’d somehow been thrust back to the sixteenth century, when Mary returned from France after the death of her young husband, Francis, and assumed the throne of Scotland, paving the way for a deadly duel with Elizabeth I of England.

A perilous time in history, with two powerful nations hovering on the brink of war.

Beth chose her words carefully. “And you don’t doubt your loyalty, my lord?”

“Regardless of the outcome, I am loyal to our Mary Stuart, who deserves to sit upon the throne.”

He saw the way her brow furrowed. “’Twould seem you disapprove.”