Laird of the Mist Page 4

  Cat lay back on the blanket to steady herself.―I saw a wedding. You were there. I think you were the groom.‖ I must be losing my mind. The vision had been identical to her haunting dreams. But dreams don‘t come when you are wide awake. Do they?

  ―Is there more?‖ Carrick felt a surge of hope and elation, but dared not show it lest he frighten Cat.

  ―Not really.‖ She contemplated, frowning.―I was in a tartan skirt—a wedding gown—with flowers in my hair. Roses and heather. It was so intense, I could actually smell the roses. I felt—I felt—like I have never felt before.‖

  Carrick knew the roses and heather. He had given them to Jenny the day before in the garden for her bridal wreath.―My favorite flowers are thistles,‖ she had teased him.―But they‘re too prickly to devise a wreath. Perhaps,‖ she cast him a sly look, ―ye‘re too prickly to be a husband.‖

  ―And perhaps my prick is exactly what ye need.‖ He had pulled her into his arms and kissed the breath out of her.

  ―Why would I have visions of you?‖ Cat was saying, pulling him back to the present.―None of this makes any sense.‖

  ―Aye,‖ he said, ―it makes perfect sense. Ye are remembering.‖

  ―That must be it,‖ Cat humored him.―I hold Jenny‘s locket and suddenly I am having her memories in my head.‖

  ―So the witch told me it would.‖ Carrick nodded.―And they are yer memories...‖

  ―From when I was Jenny.‖ Cat sat up in protest. ―Don‘t be absurd. Do you really think I would believe that crap? Do you really think I am that...‖

  Carrick abruptly pulled her to him and kissed her with a pent-up fury that stole her resolve. Never had she been kissed like this. His lips were hot against hers and his muscular arms cocooned her to his chest. She didn‘t bother resisting. She was melting like the Wicked Witch of the West. As his kiss deepened and explored her mouth, every muscle turned into wet rags, and she was defenseless against a flood of feelings for Carrick that came like a tidal wave.

  Carrick ended the kiss and brushed lighter ones over her forehead and eyes, then pressed her close to him. He sat silent, holding her, stroking her hair, and soothed, ―‗Tis fine, mo cridhe. Dinna fash,‖ he whispered.―All will be well.‖

  ―Carrick,‖ Cat began softly, still in his arms.―I want to believe you. I do. But I just don‘t believe in time-travel and reincarnation. I want to, but..‖

  ―Perhaps ye should take the leap,‖ he said, touching her cheek.

  ―What leap is that?‖ Cat looked up into his sparkling eyes.

  ―Ye know…‖ He smiled back.―The leap of faith.‖

  ―Perhaps,‖ Cat said and fainted straight away.

  ― Okay, okay,‖ Cat called out at the incessant knocking on her bedroom door.―Come in and stop that banging.‖

  In a swirl of blonde hair and open arms, Olivia flew through the door and hugged her sister tightly. ―I‘m so happy to see you, Cat,‖ she cried.

  ―Olivia!‖ Cat was thrilled.―I thought you were in Edinburgh exhibiting your paintings?‖

  Olivia pushed Cat away a little to look at her.―I was,‖ she laughed.―And before you ask, they all sold. I even got a commission from the National Trust to do a painting of the Battle of Culloden.‖ She had been talking so fast, she paused for a breath.―You forgot I was going to Highland dance for Lydia‘s ball tonight? Bad Cat, you are. And speaking of bad, I arrive and what do I find? You‘ve taken in a gorgeous Highlander! Good for you, Cat.‖

  ―Oh, damn. I completely forgot about the ball. There‘s just been so much going on.‖ Cat rubbed her eyes. She never forgot important dates. ―What are we supposed to do with Carrick while we are at Lydia‘s?‖

  ―Don‘t worry,‖ Olivia was quick to respond.―Grandda took him to rent a Prince Charlie jacket and a kilt. They‘ll be back soon. It‘ll be fun having him along.‖

  ―Oh great…wonderful,‖ Cat said tersely.―We get to bring a homeless person to a formal Scottish ball. You know we‘re just helping him out for a few days.‖

  ―I heard the whole thing.‖ Olivia put up a hand to stop her.―It‘s a great story and he‘s terrific. Maybe he can give me input for my Culloden painting. He was there, you know. And besides, he‘s sexy as hell.‖ She gave Cat a cheeky look.

  ―He wasn‘t at Culloden! He‘s just lost and confused.‖ Cat yawned. What time was it? How did she get to her bedroom?―Funny. I don‘t remember coming up here last night.‖

  ―No wonder.‖ Olivia squeezed Cat‘s hand.―Carrick said you fainted on the beach. He brought you up. Grandda said you just needed to sleep, that you‘ve been wearing yourself out with the new CD.‖

  Cat looked down at her clothing. It was the same she had been wearing the night before. Embarrassed, she ventured, ―I fainted?‖

  Olivia bounced to her feet.―I guess so. You really need to learn to take breaks from your work,‖ she admonished.―Maybe take a break with that handsome Scotsman.‖

  ―Oh, God.‖ Cat sighed with a hand to her head.―Olivia, nothing happened and nothing will happen.‖

  ―That‘s not how I see it,‖ she stated, her exuberance for a good romance clearly showing. ―I heard he kissed you.‖

  ―Oh, that.‖ Cat blushed.―Just a momentary lapse, I suppose. Nothing serious. He told you about that? Oh, God...‖

  ―Yes, he told us. A lapse. Really? Then why did you faint?‖ Olivia questioned.―It must have been one hell of a kiss.‖

  ―Olivia.‖ Cat was firm.―He thinks I am the reincarnation of his dead wife. He thinks he traveled through time to find me. Oh, don‘t look at me that way. You can‘t really believe that‘s true?‖

  ―Why not?‖ Olivia sat back down on the bed.―He also said Jenny‘s sister and grandda had the same names as us—Hamish and Olivia. What a coincidence, huh? Grandda and I don‘t remember anything, but we‘re open to the idea, at least.‖ She brushed the thought aside.

  ―And besides, true love can do anything. It‘s obvious he has it for you. You should hear the way he talks about you. Wish someone felt that way about me. And,‖ her voice turned mockspooky, ―he traveled through the mists of time to find you. Hey, he‘s your Laird of the mist. That‘s what I‘ll call him.‖

  ―You and your artist‘s temperament,‖ Cat teased her.―Hopeless romantic, you are.‖

  Olivia nodded at that.―So I am, and I like me just fine, thank you.‖

  ―You talked with him about me?‖ Cat suddenly realized Olivia must have been home for a while. ―When did you get in? And you talked with him about me??‖

  ―Last night.‖ Olivia was up and pacing the room again, picking up perfume bottles and setting them down. She had always been a bit fidgety. ―And we talked about everything for a couple of hours after they put you to bed. It was fascinating.‖

  ―I‘ll just bet,‖ Cat said under her breath.

  ―So what did happen on the beach?‖ Olivia was back at her side, anxious to hear it all.

  ―If I tell you, you promise not to jump to conclusions, or anything foolish like that?‖

  ―I swear.‖ Olivia raised a hand as an oath.―Go on. Tell me everything. Don‘t leave anything out.‖

  ―We were just talking…‖

  ―Oh sure,‖ Olivia interrupted.―Just talking. Uh huh.‖

  ―Are you going to let me tell you?‖ Cat frowned.―Or are you going to interject every other sentence?‖

  Olivia sat back and pointed to her tightly shut lips. She waved at Cat to continue.

  ―So, we were just sitting out there, talking,‖ Cat began again, giving her sister a stern look.―He was showing me a locket that had belonged to Jenny. You know who Jenny is—er—was?‖

  Olivia nodded vigorously.

  ―I was holding it, admiring it. And suddenly, I just started feeling really warm all over.‖ Cat wrapped her arms about herself, remembering the odd sensations.―Then I started feeling funny and seeing things.‖

  ―What did you see? Oh, sorry.‖ Olivia put her head down. ―Go on.‖
/>
  Cat blew out a breath.―It was so intense, Olivia. As though it was really happening to me. Not like I was watching, but I was her. In her body. I was in a Highland wedding dress, and I was the bride. I could smell the flowers in my hair and Carrick was standing there. He was the groom...‖ It was all coming back to her, nearly as strong as the vision had been the night before.

  ―After it stopped,‖ Cat‘s eyes were far away, ―I was a bit shaken and we just sort of—he held me and kissed me. I guess I fainted after that.‖ Cat shuddered slightly, recalling how oddly wonderful it had been.

  ―Wow!‖ Olivia said finally.―Cat, that‘s incredible! Carrick told us the witch said you would remember if he kissed you while he was holding the locket. Don‘t you see?‖

  ―See what?‖ Cat asked irritably.―See that he‘s a nut case? See that I just kissed a lunatic?‖

  ―No Cat,‖ Olivia reached for her sister‘s hand.―Don‘t you see? You love each other and always have. What the witch said was absolutely true.‖

  Chapter Six

  ―S he‘ll be fine, lad,‖ Hamish reassured him yet again.―She just needed a bit of rest.‖

  ―Aye,‖ Carrick responded, his mind still on Cat‘s sleeping form when they had laid her on her bed.

  ―I‘m certain ye are right.‖

  Carrick stared out the window of the vintage Jaguar roadster Hamish pampered. Just yesterday

  Carrick had seen cars for the first time and became enthralled with their speed and power. Today, however,

  his wonder was shadowed by his sense of responsibility for Cat‘s distress.

  ―Ye‘ll enjoy Lydia‘s ball tonight.‖ Hamish tried to distract him.―She gives a good party, aye.‖ Carrick shifted in his seat to look at Hamish.―A charity party, ye say?‖

  ―Oh, aye, for the sick bairns, ye ken.‖ Hamish stopped at a red light.―She‘s a great one for charity, is

  our Lydia. And she is anxious to meet ye, coming as she does, from near Invergarry.‖

  ―Invergarry,‖ Carrick repeated. He wondered how his brother was faring as laird.―A fine place to call

  home. Although my grandda came from Glencoe originally.‖

  ―Glencoe?‖ Hamish drove through the clear intersection.―Yer grandfather? Surely he was no at the

  massacre?‖

  ―Aye, he was, indeed,‖ Carrick answered.―Infamous to this day, is it?‖

  ―Very much so.‖ Hamish sighed sadly.―A horror for all time. Killing innocent MacDonalds just to set

  an example. A sad day in our history, to be sure.‖

  ―Verra true,‖ Carrick agreed.―My grandda spoke little of it. He escaped through the glen with his

  mother when he was sixteen. Many died on the way. But his second cousin, Chief Ranald MacDonell at

  Invergarry, took pity on him and his mother. The Chief gave him some lands and a home. My family still

  owns Beinn Fhithich.‖

  ―Raven Mountain?‖ Hamish translated.

  ―Aye. Our farm.‖ Carrick smiled at memory of the place.

  ―What do ye farm there?‖ Hamish asked.

  ―Cattle and barley. We brew a fine whisky.‖ Carrick wondered how Ian was managing. It was a vast

  stedding and required careful management and much labor.―Tis a bonny spot with a view of Loch Oich. Do

  ye ken the place?‘

  ―I ken the area,‖ Hamish said, nodding. ―I grew up in Kingussie, near Loch Lagen. I had an uncle near

  Loch Oich.‖ Hamish did not mention that Carrick‘s cousin‘s home, Castle Invergarry, had been burned, then

  bombed to ruins by Cumberland after the 1745 rising. It would do no good to tell him now.

  ― You know Lydia has always fancied grandda,‖ Olivia explained, as Cat pulled the Mercedes into the long drive leading to Lydia‘s brightly lit mansion.―I‘m sure her need for him to be here early was just one of her ruses. And he did bring my dance costumes.‖

  ― I suppose,‖ Cat agreed, as they rounded the bend and pulled into the line of arriving cars.―But I still think it was rude for them to go ahead of us. We should have arrived together.‖

  ―Now, Cat,‖ Olivia teased her sister.―Are you saying we need an escort? You? The independent, modern woman?‖

  Caught out,‖ Cat smiled in chagrin.―Well, no. I just think they could have waited for us. Simple courtesy is all.‖

  ―Good evening, Miss Caitriona,‖ the kilted valet greeted Cat as he opened her door.―I hope you are well. And you as well, Miss Olivia.‖

  ―Thank you, Gerald,‖ Cat responded, gathering her long skirts and accepting his proffered hand.

  ―Have a lovely evening.‖ He smiled as Cat and Olivia made their way up the steps to the portico filled with faint fiddle music and illuminated by sconces.

  ―There you two are!‖ cried a silver-haired, statuesque woman as she grabbed each woman‘s hand.―I thought you‘d never arrive!‖

  Lydia ushered them into the entry, filled with people.―I have been so enjoying your Carrick, Cat. What a catch that one is!‖

  Cat pulled Lydia up short.―He‘s not my anything, Lydia,‖ she corrected.―He‘s just a houseguest for a few days. Surely grandda explained...‖

  ―Oh yes!‖ Lydia‘s eyes sparkled.―He explained it all. A handsome Highlander from another time come to find you. How romantic that must be for you, Cat!‖

  Olivia started to giggle.

  ―Don‘t you start!‖ She pointed at Olivia. Then to Lydia, ―This has gone too far, Lydia. It‘s not the least bit romantic...‖

  ―Ah,‖ Lydia interrupted as they entered the enormous ballroom. ―There‘s your grandda and Carrick. Why don‘t you go over and join them. I‘ll see you in a bit.‖ And with that, Lydia whisked away, leaving Cat starring directly into Carrick‘s eyes from across the room.

  Cat‘s stomach lurched as Carrick began to make a path toward her. Panicked, she grabbed Olivia‘s hand for comfort.―He‘s coming over,‖ she whispered.

  ―Of course he is,‖ Olivia whispered back.―Do you expect him to stay across the room all night?‖

  Before she could reply, Carrick was in front of her, gently lifting her hand and bowing over it.

  ―Good evening, Caitriona.‖ He smiled.―And a good evening to ye as well, Miss Olivia.‖ He gave a slight bow in her direction.

  Olivia smiled at him, but her eyes were fixed on Cat, who was flushed all over. Was her sister actually trembling?

  ―Thank you, Carrick,‖ Cat managed, slowly retrieving her hand.―Are you enjoying the ball so far?‖

  ―Aye, I am.‖ Carrick offered his arm as escort.―May I see to ye ladies‘ refreshment?‖ He began to lead Cat toward the vast array of food and drink displayed in the adjoining room. Cat shot a reproving look at Olivia, who smiled broadly.

  ―Hey…‖ Olivia leaned to whisper.―Don‘t look at me like that. You‘re the one who wanted an escort.‖ Turning to Carrick, she said, ―If you two will excuse me, I‘m off to find where and when Lydia wants me to dance. Have fun,‖ she trilled as she glided off into the crowd.

  ―Olivia dances?‖ Carrick asked, handing Cat a glass of wine.

  ―Yes,‖ Cat said, careful not to spill on her white gown.―She is a former World Champion Highland Dancer. Five years ago, I think.‖

  ―Lassies Highland dance now?‖ Carrick nearly sputtered.―They compete, do they?‖

  ―Of course they do...oh…‖ Cat suddenly realized.―That‘s right. In your time, women don‘t do Highland dancing. Well, they do now and have ever since Jenny Douglas broke with tradition and won a competition in the late 1800's. You don‘t often see men do it nowadays.‖

  ―Truly?‖ Carrick shook his head.―Who wouldha‘ thought? Well, here‘s to the lassies then.‖ Carrick smiled and raised his glass to her.

  ―To the lassies,‖ Cat agreed, and touched her glass to his.―Shall we go out to the terrace?‖ she suggested.―It‘s a bit warm in here.‖

  ―Aye.‖ Carrick raised his arm in invitation an
d Cat laid her own upon his.―A bit of air wouldna be amiss,‖ he agreed and led her through the open French doors to the terrace overlooking the shore. ―Ye are particular beautiful this night, Caitriona,‖ Carrick said softly, placing his glass on a nearby table.―I mean, ye are always a beauty, but...‖

  ―I knew what you meant.‖ Cat smiled. How could she not smile? He was stunning in his Prince Charlie jacket and kilt, his hair tied back and those eyes—those sparkling blue eyes filled with his entire soul.

  ―You look especially fine yourself, Carrick,‖ Cat returned the compliment, as Carrick took the glass from her nervous hand.―Modern dress suits you well.‖

  Was she beginning to believe his story? Every time he touched her, it was as though her very being rose to scream, ―home, familiar, déjà-vu.‖

  ―Yer Miss Lydia decorates a ballroom most interesting.‖ Carrick broke the silence.―Such a collection of swords and targes, I rarely have seen.‖

  ―Lydia does like to collect antique Scottish weapons.‖ Cat nodded toward the ballroom.―I never quite understood her fascination with them. Especially the targes. But it does have a unique effect.‖

  ―Quite so.‖ Carrick laughed.―Like an armory, to my thinking.‖

  ―They‘re playing a strathspey.‖ She changed the subject as the fiddler struck up again. ―Aye, so they are.‖ He bent his head lower to her face. ―Would ye care to dance?‖

  ―I‘m not much of a dancer...‖ she began, as Carrick brushed his lips against hers, and she lost her voice and all thought.

  ―We shall have to remedy that,‖ he whispered, as he drew back to look at her again, a tender smile lit his eyes.

  ―We shall?‖ Cat was numb.

  ―Aye,‖ he answered, pulling her closer.―Come along and I will show ye.‖

  He led the dazed Cat into the ballroom, where they stood watching the others moving through the intricate steps of a strathspey to the tune of The Miller‘s Daughter.

  ―These arena steps I ken,‖ Carrick reflected, as the dance ended. ―Mayhap I spoke hastily.‖