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  The farmer seemed to mull it over a moment, but when Colin’s hand went to his sword in atime old tradition of honoring his wife by battle with the offender, the farmer thought better of it and said, “Tis a fare fine, me Laird, but please see tae it that yer wee wife, stays out o’me fields!”

  Colin raised his eyebrow at the man, letting him have his moment of due on the battlefield, and then turned to Audrina and took the thin rope dangling from the cow’s neck.

  “Come on Bessie, on w’it ye now.” He slapped the rump of the cow. “Lass?” He looked at Audrina expectantly.

  She sighed and followed after him, unsure of anything anymore. She hadn’t proved to herself that standing in the exact spot that she had arrived at and holding the exact pin that had a spell cast on it would bring her back to her time. But as the words of the chant filled her head, she wasn’t sure they were entirely wrong and that the promise for person and pin to be returned to Colin, hadn’t happened. The one thing she was sure of was, she had always wanted a pet, and as the cow mooed and swished its tail happily, she finally had one.

  CHAPTER 18

  Audrina returned to her room under the reproachful eye of the members of the Claran household. She was exhausted and sweaty and she wasn’t in the mood to answer any more questions from people. She was tired of the sympathetic looks that were cast her way and the whispered, “lost memory” or “not right in the head” that she heard everywhere she turned.

  She decided to skip dinner, opting for the meal that was sent up for her from one of the maids. She didn’t bother to turn away from the window when the maid came in. She did however enjoy the bath that was brought up this time. She sank into the water gratefully and enjoyed the warmth it provided as the rain lashed against the window.

  The clouds had rolled in as was typical of a late summer afternoon shower in Scotland. She had said very little to Colin on the walk back to the keep, and he had let her stew in her own thoughts. He had gone off to take Bessie, or the cow, as most cows were called Bessie around here, to find a stall in the stable.

  Audrina had trudged up to her room, not looking at or speaking to anyone. She felt like the chamber was a prison somehow, but a lavish one at that. Especially for this time period. But she also felt like it was a prison of her own making. No one had told her she had to come up here, yet she did anyway. She wasn’t sure why, except that maybe she had still been running from something. From herself or from others, she wasn’t sure.

  After Audrina got out of the tub, she dried off and waited, wrapped in her shift and the tartan that Colin had brought to her the previous day. She sat by the fire and stared into it absentmindedly as the tub was hauled away and she was finally left to herself.

  Audrina got up a while later and decided to just go to bed. There were no books to read and she was an avid romance reader. She wasn’t sure how she felt on the romance front either. She’d always been emotionally closed off, not having many boyfriends as she worked long hours. She’d gotten used to having to be on her own after her grandfather passed. In some ways that was true when he had been still alive, because he had left her to her own devices when it came to romance and love. He himself had been a bit of a social recluse. He rarely went out or met friends and he never dated. Audrina knew very little about her grandmother except the fact that her grandfather had been deeply in love with her. When she lost the battle with cancer, it had stolen not only her grandmother’s life, but a piece of her grandfather’s soul as well. Maybe that was the legacy her grandfather never wanted to tell her about. Maybe that’s why all record of Maeve’s relationship with Colin had been stricken from the records. Maybe the pain of lost love was the curse of the James clan, and the legend that the James clan found one and only one love during their time. It would explain some things about Maeve and Colin, to be sure.

  But Audrina sighed inwardly. She had always been a stickler for romance, and she often romanticized situations in her life because she found romance with men lacking. Perhaps Mary had been right, and if she was Maeve reincarnate, she had romanticized the whole terrible ordeal with Cotswold, to the point that her memories were completely skewed. Audrina snorted and rolled onto her side. How was she ever going to fall asleep without her pictures?

  SHE WAS READY. Tonight, was the night. She pinned the tartan into place with the kilt pin he had given her as an early wedding gift. The castle was abuzz with a titillating excitement that was at the same time hushed and subdued. No one must know. She kept sneaking glances out the window in hopes of catching a glimpse of her Colin. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t spent every single waking moment of every single day together. He was there where she began, and she was his, where she started. They were the beginning, middle, and end of one another. The solid unit in a unified cord woven of love. There was no denying it, although she had tried time and time again. Colin’s infuriating endless patience, never ceased to amaze her. But he had worn her down, until she secretly agreed to wed him in the middle of the night.

  She felt they would be thick as thieves, stealing the rights of Prima Noctem away from the English. They planned to do it right under Lord Cotswold’s nose, so that when he learned of their marriage, it would be too late for him to claim the right. Maeve had always felt the right had never been his to take anyway. It was between God, her and her Colin. But such was not the way with the laws of men. She never understood why the English couldn’t just leave them in peace. It wasn’t as if they were thrilled to be occupying the land anyway. They had neither the will nor the spirit to survive Scotia’s harsh climates and seasons. But Maeve shook her head, clearing her thoughts of the vile Lord Cotswold. She’d observed him at a distance the few times he’d ridden into Claran Castle’s courtyard to gloat over his reign of the area. He’d driven Uncle Dougal to the point of insane hatred, but there was little he could do about it.

  Maeve spent the next few hours, wiling away the time until Mary would escort her down to the chapel in the middle of the night. The wedding party was small, consisting of Colin, herself, Mary, Alisdair, Donal and the priest. Mary felt sure no one would know of what they had done until after the ceremony took place, and Colin rushed her up here to the chamber to…well…she blushed thinking of the things they were going to do in that bed. She’d stayed true to her maidenhood, but it hadn’t been for Colin’s lack of trying to steal it from her.

  When the door creaked open, and Mary ushered her to the door, she bounded down the steps behind her soon to be mother-in-law, giddy with excitement. They hastened to the back door which led through the gardens and out to the chapel. Mary squeezed her hand in as much excitement as she was feeling, and the two of them entered the back of the chapel. Maeve could practically hear her heart pumping it was beating so fast. Mary gave her a peck on the cheek, and Maeve waited at the back of the chapel anxiously, until Mary came back to escort her forward.

  Alisdair met her in the dark, opting to give her away as the bride. She looked at him with sisterly affection, as they had often teased one another and jested about all manner of things. Alisdair had never been interested in her, he’d long ago had his eye on another, but he often confided in her about his secret love of the blacksmith’s daughter, Rowena. Maeve had encouraged him to pursue her, but Alisdair was mighty in battle and wielding a sword, he was deadly shy when it came to matters of the heart.

  He gave her a peck on the cheek and whispered, “Ye look radiant, sister.”

  She smiled up at him. “Thank ye, brother.” And then Mary poked her head in the antechamber and ushered them forward.

  Maeve’s stomach fluttered with nerves as she approached the pulpit. Colin stood to the side of the priest who was new to the keep. He’d come from another clan when their priest had taken ill. Apparently, he had gotten well, and the young priest was sent on his way, traveling to find a new clan to serve.

  Colin looked resplendent. He was dressed in his finest kilt and sporran. He had on a clean white linen shirt and his boots were polished. He wore his
ceremonial claymore and Balmoral which were saved for dress occasions, and the smile he wore on his face when he saw her in the gown and clan colors, was none the likes that she had ever seen. She practically dragged Alisdair down the aisle in order to get to him.

  When she arrived at the pulpit, she only had eyes for her Colin. She wondered why she had ever doubted him. She had been so foolish to wait. Colin took her hands in his and the priest bound them with a ceremonial cloth and spoke the words of the ceremony first in Gaelic and then in Latin as was custom.

  When it was time to say the vows, Maeve breathlessly proclaimed, “I do.”

  And then in a loud clear voice, Colin said them back. There was no mistaking it. There were enough witnesses to their ceremony that they were well and truly wed.

  Colin crushed her to him and kissed her like she was the very air he needed to breathe. Maeve felt the warmth grow in her belly that she always felt when she was wrapped in Colin’s arms. She didn’t want the kiss to end, but for proprieties sake, the priest cleared his throat and Colin broke the kiss off.

  Mary and Alisdair congratulated them both, and little Donal ran to her and gave her a hug, telling her she was always the sister he had wanted and never had. They were the picture of a hail and happy family and Colin stopped to kiss her once more when the doors to the chapel burst open and the clanking of boots sounded on the stone floor.

  Mary screamed and Alisdair shouted as he reached for his sword. In all the confusion, Maeve was unsure what was going on until she heard the unmistakable sound of horse hooves, sound in the chapel itself! She looked around and Colin’s face was a sheet of white fury as Lord Cotswold rode his stallion into the chapel and confronted them both.

  “So, you thought to wed in secrecy, did you?” He didn’t wait for an answer.

  “It is no matter, I have my ways of knowing what happens around here.” And with that, he flung a bag of coins at the young priest who stooped to pick them up. He gave an almost apologetic look at Colin and Maeve as he hastened out the door. Alisdair lunged for him, but one of the soldiers drove the butt-end of his sword into his stomach, knocking the wind out of him.

  Mary clung to Donal who was struggling in her grip to get away, but any ill-move toward the English could result in any one of their deaths. Lord Cotswold looked at Mary and tsked.

  “I’d hold onto that child if I were you. He’ll be a man in a decade or so and you wouldn’t want to see him meet his maker upon the noose.” Mary didn’t say a word, but Cotswold continued. “It’s a shame I hadn’t been stationed in this God forsaken pit of a country, you might have provided an evening or two of entertainment, but I do like it when they’re fresh.” With that he turned from Mary dismissively, but not before he leered at her.

  He turned to Colin and Maeve and said, “By the rights of the King, I claim this bride under the right of Prima Noctem. She will come with us now, so I may perform the husbandly duties that his Grace has seen fit to bestow upon the English Lordships.”

  “Please Lord Cotswold, doonae take her!” Colin pleaded. But his begging fell on deaf ears as Lord Cotswold rode up to them and began circling them on his horse.

  “It is true, I find the Scottish brides to be, less, of a tousle in bed, however as Lord, it is not only my right, it is my duty to breed the barbaric traits of the Scots blood from the people. She comes with me now.”

  With that, he turned and began riding away. Maeve shrieked and clung to Colin who jumped at Lord Cotswold’s leg, trying to claw him and rip him down off his horse. The soldiers with Lord Cotswold split in half. Half threw a sack over Maeve’s head and carried her off, and the other half beat Colin to the floor until he was left lying there, broken and bleeding.

  Maeve lost track of time as she was thrown over the back of a horse. She was mortified when she felt the pawing at her backside and heard the crude remarks the soldiers made to Lord Cotswold about her figure. More than once she felt them pinch at her breasts as they’d ride up beside whoever’s horse she was on, and when the soldier who was carrying her tried to worm his fingers up her wedding dress, between her thighs, she bit his thigh through the fabric of the sack over her head.

  He slapped her hard so that she felt black spots form over her eyes. Not that it would have made much difference, she couldn’t see through the sack anyway, but she was humiliated as they paraded her through the streets with her dress hiked up to her hips while they all pinched and squeezed her buttocks, exposing her to God and everyone to see.

  Maeve was numb with cold as they rode through the night to Cotswold Castle. She was numb in her mind as she had closed her emotions off to the soldiers and the attentions they were giving her on the ride. She figured, if she didn’t react and she didn’t respond to them, they couldn’t affect her, so she allowed herself to become lost in the memory of Colin and all the times they’d shared together. She prayed they had left him alive when they left. She decided to believe that he was, because the soldiers were laughing about how they had beaten him. But she didn’t hear any tell of mortally harming him. She knew Mary would look after him until she could return. If she returned. Rumors had amassed and spread even to Claran Castle of Lord Cotswold’s sadistic tendencies. It was rumored some brides never made it home to their newly wed husbands. Maeve was determined to make it home to her Colin, and she would close herself off from Cotswold, just as she had done with the soldiers.

  When they arrived, she was flung from the horse and landed in what she suspected was horse dung. Men all around her laughed as she was dragged to her feet and forced to walk behind a soldier. He dragged her along by the binds of her hands which cut into her wrists, but he refused to take the blindfold off.

  “Please, take the hood off so I can see where I am walking?” she implored.

  He laughed as he said, “No, this will serve to remind you that save from the feel of the silk between your thighs, his Lordship doesn’t wish to look upon your Scotch face any more than he has to. You’re beneath him. Just a duty he must perform in the name of the crown. English women are far superior and easier on the eye than you swine!”

  Maeve felt her cheeks burn under the hood. She’d never met a proper English lady, but she wondered if they really were better looking.

  As they climbed the steps, the soldier tossed her into the room and she was finally rid of the hood. She was sweating and there was no water, but she managed to free herself of her binds. She passed the time before the evening, thinking of her Colin and praying he was alright, and when she felt the rush of Catriona and Moria’s words as they entered her, “Remember that peace doth dwell in Scotia’s free, that sister’s alike, raise magic from sea to sea. Her lands and her shores, fill witches with power that may be used in times of desperate hour.”

  Maeve began the ritual of blessing the pin with the spell to send her in her reincarnate form and her pin back to her love. The spell wasn’t a curse, but one forged of love and longing for the one she so desperately craved, and yet had been denied. She remembered her sister’s wisdom that she must include the span of time and space, as her reincarnated form may not be of this time and place, so she worked the incantation so that it included both of those aspects.

  “Bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh, through spans of time, I cannot rest. Seek thee my kin, and pardon my sin, that I may reincarnate, and new life begin. And with this pin I shall be returned to my love, cast through the ages, by touch of mine blood, and light from sun up above.”

  She hid the pin in the loose stone after that. Scotland’s magic once again coming to her aid. As the castle was made of Scottish hewn stones, she willed the stone tower to show her the hiding place, and she prayed Lord Cotswold and his men wouldn’t find it. Just as she stepped back from the hiding place, the footsteps could be heard on the steps and the door burst open.

  Two soldiers rushed in and grabbed her by her arms. She struggled against their grip but went deadly still when a third came in, brandishing a knife that he then used to cut away her weddin
g dress. It fell to the floor in tatters and he then cut off her shift, so she was left standing naked and shivering as he ran the blade down the tip of her breast and leered at her as Lord Cotswold came in behind him.

  “Now, now, you can have your fun with the Scottish bitch after I’m done with her and if there’s anything left.”

  Maeve had promised to close herself off to him, but as he started toward her, she realized one thing, he was definitely going to hurt her, and he was certainly going to kill her, but she was not going to lie down docilely whilst he did. She kicked and clawed and scratched at any limb she could get near until they were forced to bind her. She continued to struggle after, not making it easy for him at all, but it was to no avail. Maeve screamed as the pain began, but was grateful for the blur of red that clouded her vision.

  CHAPTER 19

  Audrina woke with a start, sobbing hysterically. It took a moment for her sight to clear of the red blur she was seeing. When she was able to partially see again, she tried to sit up, but sort of rolled off the bed. She crawled to the window and pulled herself up by reaching up to the sill and grasping it. When she was in an upright position, she took great gulps of fresh air, as she tried not to be sick.

  She remembered everything. Everything that was done to her, to Maeve. She knew now without a shadow of a doubt that she was the reincarnated Maeve. She felt everything Maeve had felt, and she felt. Every. Atrocious. Thing. Lord Cotswold had done to her. She sobbed anew at the memories. The acts of atrocity that he had committed in his sadistic pleasure hadn’t been defined. It was the pain it had caused that Audrina remembered in vivid detail. Parts of her body throbbed in pain in a way that she was unaware could hurt as such.