Lost in the Highlands the Thirteen Scotsman Read online

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  The group laughed; it was a loud boisterous sound, causing splinters of pain to shoot through my head.

  This exchange should have been the first clue I was somewhere I should not be. But as with most days, before I had my morning cup of lead my brain was not firing on all cylinders.

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  Gavin de Grey, the current laird of Greystone Castle, located on the northwest shore of Loch Morar, stepped forward. The wind whipped his dark brown hair away from his rugged profile. His blue-green gaze drifted to the bog of mud that surrounded the person his men were having a debate over. He wasn’t sure if it was a lass, either. They took her from the mist and sometimes, most times, it was a lass, but every once in while they were stuck with a man. He wasn’t keen on the men. But some could cook and the others were good at mucking the stalls. Some however, ran off in the middle of the night and he had yet to find them, but then again, he wasn’t looking very hard either.

  If indeed this was a lass, the mud had her covered well and good, obscuring any visible clue. All he could make out was the whites of the eyes. Even the disembodied head that was the only visible part of the body gave no clue if it was a man or woman, friend or foe. Lifting his hand, he pinched the bridge of his nose, to ward off the pressure gathering between his brows.

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  “Do ye think she is daft?” Callum spoke from under the hand he was using to cover his mouth and nose from the smell.

  “Does she look daft to ye?” Muir said, doing the same.

  “She is lying in a filthy pit of mud,” Callum noted. “Do ye ken if daft people like mud?”

  “Och, how am I supposed to know?” Muir took a step back when the wind shifted.

  “I can’t say I’ve met a lass that was daft before,” Callum mused.

  “What about the old toothless crone ye were begging to suck yer wee bit last night?” Muir laughed.

  “Och, ye promised ye wouldn’t say anything about that.” Callum launched himself at Muir and tackled him to the ground.

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  The sound of flesh hitting flesh resounded in the air. I guessed they were having a fistfight but I could not see past the shadow of men that still stood around me.

  Two other men stepped up to take their place and started a commentary of their own. They were hard to understand and spoke in a mishmash of modern day language, along with the unmistakable brogue of a Scotsman and something else I couldn’t figure out. I could only get bits and pieces of the conversation.

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  “Och, she stinks,” Alec pinched his nose.

  “Aye, that she does,” Graham agreed taking a step back. His dark blonde hair stood on end. He grabbed hold of the length and tethered it with a piece of leather.

  “We should toss her in the Loch and see if she comes clean,” Alec suggested. He was only three and twenty but he was already six feet tall.

  “How ye going to get her there?” asked Muir, coming back from his fistfight with Callum. He straightened his kilt.

  “Ye can carry her,” Graham said, and adjusted the hilt of his sword. “I won’t be the one lifting her up, smelling the way she does.”

  Muir looked indignant at such an idea. “Why can’t ye two do it?”

  “We are older,” Alec said as though this explained everything.

  “Who’s doing what?” asked Callum, stepping into the circle once more.

  “Ye will take the lass to the Loch with Muir’s help and see if she comes clean.”

  “Can I take off her clothes?”

  Alec looked at Graham who looked at Muir who looked down at the girl in the mud. “How’d ye know she is even wearing clothes?”

  Callum shrugged.

  I tried to say something, but no words would come out.

  “Look, she is alive?” Muir pointed his finger. “Her mouth is moving?”

  “Cease all of ye,” Gavin said, his voice deep with a heavy brogue combined with a hint of an English accent. “Pick her up and dump her in the Loch. If she comes clean and is toothsome, we will keep her. If not, leave her there.”

  “It is cold,” Callum argued. “She may catch her death.”

  “What do I care? I have no use for another ugly crone slowing us down. Now get on with it.” Gavin stepped forward and leaned down to look at the person in the mud.

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  Blinking, I stared up into the loveliest eyes, for a man, that I had ever seen. They were a cross between green and blue. And even though the color was strange, yet beautiful, I had the distinct feeling I had seen that very same color someplace before, but for the life of me, I couldn’t remember where. They mesmerized me until he frowned and wrinkled his nose in displeasure before covering his face. Some part of me finally came back to my senses. Out of sheer determination I tried to sit up but only managed to move a little before I was sucked back into my prison of filth.

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  “Ye take her arms; I’ll grab her feet.” Callum walked over to the edge of the pit.

  Hands grabbed at my body none too carefully and yanked me from the vat of filth that had me trapped. Moving quickly, the two men held my arms and legs while running up a rocky incline, picking up speed as they descended the other side. I felt like I was going to be ripped in two.

  “On the count of three…” one of them yelled over the howling wind.

  “Three.”

  My body swung outward and released.

  I was airborne for a split second and then submerged completely into frigid water.

  The skirts I wore weighed me down. I kicked my feet, struggling to rise back to the surface. With a final kick, I broke out from the barrier of water. A heavy fog was on the top. Gasping for air, I swam back toward the shore out of sheer determination.

  Dripping wet and shivering, I found purchase on the rocks below and climbed from the water.

  The two men/boys that had thrown me into the water stood there with widened eyes.

  “Bastards!” I sputtered, swiping my wet hair from my face as I finally managed to find my voice.

  “What did she say?” Callum asked.

  “I believe she called ye a bastard,” Muir responded.

  “How do ye know she was speaking ta me and not ye?”

  “Ye are a bastard,” Muir reminded him and crossed his arms. “I am not.”

  “Ye will be when I get through with ye,” Callum warned, balling his fists.

  “Not likely.”

  “What is the matter with you?” I chattered, so mad, I was seeing red.

  “Aye she is a feisty one, full of spit and vinegar,” Muir stated.

  “We did just throw her in the Loch. It would seem she may have good reason for calling us such,” Callum noted.

  “Aye, I can see why she may be mad. Think ye she is toothsome enough for the Laird?” asked the one with the long hair. He had the pretty face of a boy not fully matured.

  “Aye,” said the taller of the two, his face was older but just as handsome. His eyes slowly raked over the gown that clung to my body like saran wrap.

  “The lass looks mighty fine ta me.” Callum let out a low appreciative whistle.

  “Good birthing hips on that one.” Muir nodded his agreement.

  Both men examined me as I stood shivering by the shore, having a heated conversation that I understood very little of. A large white bird flew overhead, squawking loudly, then dove into the water and came back out with a fish writhing in its long beak. Their attention momentarily diverted on the bird, I grabbed up my sopping wet skirts and tried to run. Unfortunately, I was so cold I could barely get my legs to work.

  “Where do ye think she is going?” asked Callum, watching her departing form as she tried to run over the rock-laden embankment.

  “I don’t know but ye better get her before she falls and hurts herself on the rocks,” Muir suggested.

  “Would our laird want her looking the way that she does?” Callum asked, reassessing her as she ran forward. Her calves were shapely but a little smaller than h
e would have imagined due to the size of her bosom.

  “Aye, I believe he would.” Muir watched the aforementioned bosom bouncing up and down as she ran. “Well what are ye waiting for? Go and get her.”

  “I am not doing it myself,” Callum argued. “She is mad.”

  Stopping, I gave up trying to run away, turned back around, and stomped back to the men who were more boys. I had no idea where I was, so running away was not going to help me in the least. “You heathens give me something to wear,” I screamed, shivering uncontrollably.

  The sound of my voice brought their eyes back to me as they stood there looking confused.

  “What is she saying?” Callum asked out of the side of his mouth.

  “I don’t know,” Muir said.

  Rubbing my arms, I stood there shivering waiting for them to do something. When neither came to my aide, I walked up to the smallest one. “I am borrowing this.” I tugged the plaid.

  “I think she wants yer extra plaid, Callum,” Muir said.

  “Aye, I think she does.” Callum released his extra plaid to the girl and then stood back.

  Wrapping the plaid around my body, I tried to get warm but it did little since my clothing was so wet.

  “Take yer clothes off, lass,” Muir said.

  Somehow, I understood that. “I will do no such thing.”

  “That is the only way ye will get warm, lass.” He shrugged his broad shoulders.

  With the numbness settling in my limbs, my legs gave out. I dropped to the ground. My head hit the rocks before my body and I promptly blacked out.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “Do ye see a basket?” Alec tucked his reddish-brown hair behind his ears as he bent over to look behind a scraggly bush. A long twisting ringlet fell forward over his broad shoulder, which looked out of place on a man his size.

  “No,” Graham said, looking just as hard. He wandered over to a large boulder, and glanced behind it.

  “Mayhap she misplaced it,” Alec offered.

  “Och, where though?” asked Graham.

  “How do I know,” Alec said as he straightened once more. “I wonder if she is going to be comely.”

  Graham made a snorting noise. “She better hope so. Laird Grey said if Morag sends us another one of those ugly ones, we will tether her near the loch and use her as an offering for the monster.”

  Alec shook his head morosely. “Aye, let’s hope she is toothsome.”

  Callum and Muir struggled up the hill with their burden in tow.

  Gavin stepped forward and pushed his hair back as it pitched forward in the bristling wind. “What happened to her?”

  “She fell on the rocks and hit her head,” Callum and Muir both blurted at the same time.

  “How did she manage that?” Gavin gave his men a cold stare.

  Both young men shrugged and shook their heads, looking at each other. “Tis slippery by the loch,” they explained.

  Gavin rolled his eyes. “Tis growing late,” he said. “Toss her on a horse and let’s make our way back ta the keep before the storm is upon us.”

  “It was sunny a few moments ago,” Callum noted. “Think ye this is an omen of what is ta come?”

  Gavin tensed. His was tired of all this superstitious talk. Even though he was partially to blame for it—he had to keep his men in line one way or another. “Only if ye do not get her on that horse and get moving.”

  “What does that have ta do with an omen?” Muir asked looking bewildered.

  “Ye will get wet and so will she.” Gavin swung on his horse.

  “Do ye want to carry her with ye?” Callum lifted her limp arm in the air.

  Gavin looked at the dripping wet girl and pulled his own plaid closer to his shoulders against the frigid wind. “No.”

  “Think ye she is comely enough?” Muir asked, hopefully.

  “Aye she looks better now.” He nodded his head. “I had my doubts it was even a girl.” Thunder boomed in the distance. “She will do….for now,” he added as an afterthought and reined his horse around, heading back for home.

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  They didn’t beat the storm. Every man was drenched by the time they made it back. One by one, the thirteen men filed inside the keep, dripping a goodly amount of water on the filthy rushes.

  That was surely one way to get the rushes clean, Gavin mused. He looked over his shoulder at the girl hanging between Callum and Muir. “Take her ta my chamber.”

  “Do ye want her on yer bed?” asked Callum shifting her legs under his arms.

  “God no!” Gavin shook his head. “Put her on the floor.” He stood there waiting but neither of the boys had moved. “What?” He glared at them.

  “Do we put something on the floor? It tis awfully chilly in here,” Callum said, shifting uncomfortably.

  “Ye can use one of the older furs.” Gavin exhaled. “Not the good ones…understand?”

  “Yes.” Callum and Muir both nodded.

  Gavin widened his eyes. “What are ye waiting for? Take her upstairs.”

  Both Muir and Callum carried her up the stairs.

  Gavin only saw them hit her head twice on the way up - that was something, he supposed.

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  “Look at what ye have done, Callum.” Muir shook his head disparagingly. “Now he is in a bad way.”

  “Me?” Callum gasped. “I just asked whether we should put the lass on the cold floor. Think ye he would have a care with this new one since he nearly killed the last one before he sent her off.” He shook his head morosely. “She made good bread, too.” Callum swallowed hard. “Where’d ye think he sent her ta?”

  Muir shook his head. “I don’t know and I don’t think I want ta truly find out.”

  Callum gasped. “Think ye he sent her ta the loch?”

  “That is just a silly superstition,” Muir said trying to keep the quivering edge from his voice.

  “If it’s just a silly superstition, why is yer voice shaking like a wee scared lassie?”

  “Ye’ll be sorry for that.” Muir dropped his burden and made a lunge for Callum.

  Callum did the same and jumped across the room, dodging Muir. Back and forth they faced off against one another, ducking, lunging, and exchanging blows with each other.

  “Cease both of ye,” Alec yelled as he came to stand inside the door. “By the saints above, ye stupid fools, I think ye have broken her.”

  Both Callum and Muir looked down at the girl.

  Callum bent over, straightened the strange crick in her leg, and tossed an old fur on top of her. He shoved his hand through his hair. “What? She looks fine ta me.”

  Muir crossed his arms. “Callum, think ye we should put the fur underneath her?”

  “Ye both better hope she wakes up, if not Laird Grey will have both yer heads on a platter and be serving them up as an offering to the monster of Loch Morar.

  “Och, Muir, ye lied.” Callum shivered. “The monster does exist.”

  Muir shrugged. “How do I know? I have never seen a monster in the Loch.”

  Callum’s eyes widened. “We have a monster in our Loch?”

  Alec rolled his eyes. “Where do ye think all the people go?”

  “Ta another town.”

  “Ye keep telling yerself that Callum.” Alec shook his head and walked out of the room.

  Callum looked at Muir. “We should probably put the fur under her like ye said.”

  “Can we use more than one fur?” Muir asked.

  “I don’t think we should, Laird Grey said ta use the bad one. He didn’t say anything about two bad ones.”

  Muir looked over at the bed skeptically. “They all look in a bad way ta me, how’d ye know which one ta take?”

  “It was easy,” Callum boasted. “I took the one with the least amount of fur on it.”

  Muir sighed and shook his head. “Come on, let’s roll her over on the fur before Laird Grey comes and sees the mess we made.”

  “Och, is she bleeding then?” Callum a
sked, leaning over, pushing her hair away from her face.

  Muir bent down and did a quick inspection of her head. “Not anymore.” He stood up. “I’m sure it was just a scratch anyway. Remember she hit her own head by the Loch.”

  Callum’s eyes widened. “Think ye Alec is telling the truth about the monster?”

  Muir shook his head. “I don’t know and I am not in any hurry ta find out.”

  “Why do ye think we haven’t heard about this fierce monster before now?”

  Muir shrugged. “Mayhap it wasn’t time ta feed it.”

  Click or tap the key

  Key Two

  CHAPTER THREE

  The expanse of a very chiseled naked torso was the first thing I saw when the darkness receded. Blinking, I tried to focus my eyes better as it was a very fine looking chest, and if I was dreaming, I wanted to memorize every inch.

  A large tub was placed in the center of a rather spacious stone room… well… it was more like a barrel, with cloths draped over the sides. Steam emitted from the top. The rest of his clothing fell to the floor and he turned toward me. My eyes popped. Wow.

  “Are ye planning on feasting yer eyes on my fine form all day?” He lifted a dark brow.

  His heavy brogue rolled off his tongue and I couldn’t understand a word. “What did you say?”

  He exhaled heavily and scrubbed his hands over his face. “I said,” he articulated with a surprisingly less amount of brogue. “Come, wash my back, woman. I do not have all day.” He climbed into the tub and sat down.

  “Excuse me?” My temper flared. “I am not your personal back scrubber.” Turning in a huff, I crossed the room, grabbed hold of the handle on the large wooden door in front of me and yanked. “Heathen,” I muttered under my breath.

  “Where are ye headed lass?” he sighed, lifting his leg and splashing water over the top.

  “I’m going to get my money back, that’s where I’m headed,” I informed him using my sternest voice.

  “Yer money?” He made a snorting noise. “I don’t think ye will have much luck finding yer coin at this juncture, lass.”

  “Wanna bet?” I whirled to face him fully and once again, I was taken aback by how handsome he was. At least the gypsy got that part right.