Down the Rabbit Hole

“No. It’s just that I know what will happen . . .”


At a shout, he looked up, before turning to her. “I must leave you.” He turned back to Jamie, who rode a short distance behind them. “You’ll stay with the lady while I see what Ian has found.”

Beth watched in alarm as he nudged his horse into a run.

She remembered a great deal more about the history of this country than mere names and dates. She knew the outcome of this rebellion. And it spelled disaster for all who defied England. Many would lose their ancestral lands. Some would die in an English prison, or be hanged as traitors.

Sweet heaven. Now she was certain that this wasn’t just a bad dream or a head injury. Somehow that fall had transported her back to Scotland’s dark and dangerous past, where Highlanders were divided, and many would pay with their lives. As long as she was here, she had no way of escaping the fate of Colin Gordon and his clan.

These were very troubling times. And she was trapped, with no way out.


*

Colin watched as his guests cheered the sight of hundreds of quail and pheasants lifting into the air as young lads from the village raced through the brush, brandishing tree branches to frighten the birds into flight.

He cupped his hands to his mouth. “Let the contest begin.”

At once Ian and the others notched their arrows to their bows and took aim.

Each Highlander used the feathers of a different bird to balance his arrows. Thus it was an easy task to determine by the arrow embedded in the dead bird just which hunter had made the kill.

Ian turned to their host. “You’re not joining us?”

“Aye. In time. I prefer to give my guests the honor of first kill.”

Ian’s eyes narrowed. “You think yourself so much better than the rest of us that you would hold back?”

Colin merely smiled. “I consider it my duty to be a good host first, and to partake of the games only when my guests are enjoying themselves.”

As Ian wheeled his mount and began riding after the others, Colin reined in his horse and watched with a thoughtful frown.

His thoughts weren’t on the hunt, but rather on the female. On that kiss in the garden, which had inflamed him as none ever had.

Who was she, and why had she chosen this time to come into their midst? Was she, as he feared, a spy, sent by the Campbell clan to report on his intentions regarding Queen Mary? After his stepmother’s heavy-handed rule over his father and his clan, he trusted no Campbell. Especially one so young and fair.

Still, she seemed truly confused by her fall. Or addle-brained.

Colin considered himself a good judge of character. And though he intended to keep a watchful eye, he found himself beginning to believe that she was as she appeared. Not so much addled as injured. There seemed to be a goodness in her heart, a sweetness in her soul that called to him. A dangerous thing, he knew. Many a laird had failed to understand that a fair face could hide an evil heart. Had not his own father made such an error in judgment? The price paid for his father’s folly was still being exacted today. Darda was not a woman to be trifled with. As she had so ably proven.

The stranger could be here to relieve him of the last of the Gordon legacy. Hadn’t many a devious woman mastered the art of seducing a laird before betraying him?

Seeing the female and Jamie approaching, he put aside his troubling thoughts and forced himself to smile.

“Now that you’re here, we’ll observe the others.”

Jamie looked surprised. “Yer not joining in the hunt, m’laird?”

“There’s plenty of time, lad.” Motioning for Jamie to give them some room, Colin guided his mount to fall into step alongside Beth’s horse and found himself enjoying the way the sunlight turned her hair to spun gold.

“This place you spoke of. This New York. Do they all speak as you do?”