Page 20 of Luthias

“Forgive me.” Luthias eased his grip, and rubbed his thumb against the inside of her wrist. “’Twouldnae be wise for you to become attached to any of the men.”

“Too late. Camdyn can be a real grump, but he’s an awesome teacher. Darach is like the big brother I’ve always wanted. Even Taveon is warming up to me. Kind of,” she added, rolling her eyes. “He caught me poking around the stables, and only yelled at me a little about how easy it would be for me to get trampled. That reminds me––he said you’ll start shearing the clan’s sheep in a few weeks, and then drive them and the cows down to a market in the valley. Why do you sell them?”

“’Tis best to reduce the herds before the snows come. More coin, fewer mouths to feed, and more space for breeding in the barns.” He liked that she wasn’t trying to pull away from him, and moved his hand down to take hold of hers. “If you wish to ride with me, I may show you more of our lands on the morrow. ’Tis time for me to visit our stockmen and arrange provisions for the wood cutters soon to arrive from the lowlands. They fell the dead or diseased trees to keep our forests sound and provide the farms with firewood for the winter.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t want to bother you.”

“You bother everyone else, why no’ me?” he countered.

“You’re the laird.” She tilted her head to peer up at him. “The guys have told me how much work you have to do to keep the castle and the vassals and the farms going while you deal with all the allied clans and make trades with them. Everyone depends on the decisions you make. Plus I still haven’t figured out why the Fire Sword brought me here, so I don’t want to waste any of your time.”

So she had been trying to avoid him, but not for the reasons he’d assumed. He took a step closer. “I shall ever have time for you, Mistress Parker.”

“That’s the other problem.” Emery ducked her head as she blew out a breath. “You and I are, well, we’re like magnets for each other, aren’t we?”

Luthias felt amused by her bluntness. “’Tis what you call the pull between us, then?”

“Honestly? It’s more like getting hit by a bus every time I see you. You’re a very attractive man.” She looked up, pressing her lips together for a moment before she said, “I really wish we came from the same time. That would make this so much simpler.”

In his mind an image of her in his bed flashed. Lit only by firelight, Emery smiled sleepily at him, and then turned over to show him her bare back. The vision felt so real he took another step toward her, closing the gap between them.

“Whoa, there, big guy.” Emery reached out and touched his arm. “That was not an invitation. Eventually I have to return to my time, and you have to stay here. In the meantime you have lots of laird stuff to do, and I’m going to somehow save the clan. We’ve got to be sensible, right?”

“Sensible.” He wanted the word banished from her thoughts, if only to see what she would do when she felt reckless. The image of her in his bed also left him feeling bemused. Was he somehow seeing a night soon to come?

“I’m pretty sure we should be.” Her eyelids drooped as he bent his head toward hers. “Then there’s the possibility of shifting the timeline. Anything I do to change things now could alter my future dramatically. I really can’t, ah, do anything stupid while I’m here.”

“I might,” Luthias said, feeling her breath mixing with his.

“Och, here you two dally.” As they stepped apart Darach came down the path from the garrison’s quarters to join them. “I’ve reports from the patrols you need hear, my lord.” He smiled at Emery. “I reckoned you’d be in the forge another hour or more, lass.”

Luthias saw her swallow hard before she grinned back at the chieftain.

“Camdyn probably needs a break from me. You know how he is about girls.” She lifted her hand and wagged her finger, imitating the armor’s scowl as she said in a much gruffer voice, “‘’Tis unseemly for a wench to ken so much of blades and war hammers. Didnae your màthair teach you to hold your tongue? A proper lady sits quiet and speaks modest.’ I hear lots and lots of that.”

“You’ll never be a proper lady, then, lass,” Darach said.

As the chieftain chuckled, Luthias looked at Emery’s pretty face, now gilded by a sunbeam, and felt his heart wrench. She shall never be my lady.

Chapter Six

Surviving in the fourteenth century wasn’t quite as tough as Emery had always assumed. Although a couple of things might have made her days a little easier––namely shampoo and conditioner, modern plumbing, and the washer/dryer combo from her apartment––living at the castle turned out to be pretty comfortable. She liked what she was learning about medieval life and Scottish highlanders, the reality of which often differed a lot from what she’d read in books. She enjoyed the food, which proved much tastier than historians had theorized, and discovered the many other pleasures of a much simpler life.

Luthias had given her a guest room down the hall from his chamber, which contained a small canopied bed with a feather mattress along with a chair and a large trunk. Recessed spaces in the walls held lanterns, and the fire in the hearth made the chilly nights almost comfortable. Darach had set up a table and chair for her to use as a desk, and the clan’s scribes had been nice enough to give her some parchment, quills and an inkpot so she could make notes on what she learned each day. She just wished she had something to do or someone to talk to before she went to bed.

Knowing the laird was only a few doors away always made it hard for Emery to fall asleep.

Living in a place among so many medieval men taught Emery plenty of valuable lessons, and not only about history and swords. The first thing she realized was the fight between Luthias and Camdyn was not an isolated incident; all of the men seemed to regularly get into fist fights. Sometimes they shoved each other around, and other times they beat each other bloody. Instead of stopping them, the other men would gather around to watch and call out encouragement.

“Not again,” Emery said during the evening meal, when two of the guards both smiled at Cerys, the youngest and prettiest kitchen maid, and then scowled at each other after she left the hall. She turned to Taveon. “There’s going to be another fight. Why don’t you stop this one before it starts?”

“I’m the war master, lass, no’ a wet nurse.” He glanced over at the guards, and sighed as they got up with their fists bunched. “Ah, ’tis Wal and Muir again. Pay no heed to them. ’Tis but lovesickness.”

“No heed? Wal still has a black eye from the last time they rumbled over that girl,” she pointed out. “It’s like every other day lately. Come on, please? I can’t eat when I hear knuckles crunching.”

“Lads,” Taveon called out. “That kitchen wench, she’s promised to the miller’s lad. Cease your tussling over her and eat your meal.”

“See?” Emery said as the guards subsided and sat back down with sulky expressions. “Was that so difficult?”