Mary Robb - Down the Rabbit Hole

Maura shook her head. “They care not for it. But they’ll attend the meal in the meadow.”

When Beth stepped from her room, Jamie stood waiting, and walked beside her down the stairs and across a sloping lawn to the stables.

It was clear to Beth that, even though she was being treated as a guest, she was not to be trusted. Colin Gordon wanted her where he could keep an eye on her. Which was no doubt the reason he’d invited her to join the hunt. And when he wasn’t around, that duty would fall to this lad.

Colin was astride a spirited black stallion. He wore a woolen cape tossed rakishly over one shoulder. When he saw Beth striding toward him, his gaze fixed on her with such intensity, she felt the heat rise to her cheeks.

She paused beside a stable lad holding the reins of a horse and looked up at Colin. “I hope you don’t mind that Maura offered me the use of your mother’s things?”

“Not at all.” He was out of the saddle and striding toward her. “I’d instructed her to use whatever suited you.”

“Thank you. That was very generous.”

“It was necessary. You could hardly sit a horse in a day gown.”

While the groom held her mount, Colin assisted Beth up a carpeted set of steps that made it possible for her to slide easily into the ornate sidesaddle.

When she was offered the reins, she felt a moment of panic. But the docile mare stood perfectly still, allowing Beth to relax.

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.”

“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.