Isabella Wakes in 16th Century Scotland
Copyright© 2016 by Dark_Irish_Angel
Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Isabella finds herself somehow transported to the past halfway across the world. She is mistaken for a Duchess whose life is thrown into danger and intrigue.
I plop down on my twin size bed with a sigh of exhaustion. Madison and I have just gotten moved in to our dorm at the University of New Orleans and classes start early tomorrow morning. I am working on a Master’s in history and Madison is pursuing a medical degree.
I gaze around the room with a smile of anticipation. Finally, Madison and I are out from under our parent’s control and we can now do exactly what we want, when we want. My bedroom is small with just enough space for the twin size bed, a desk, and closet. Madison’s bedroom is the same as mine and in between our bedrooms is a living room with a sofa and a television. There is one bathroom that Madison and I share just off of the living room. Thankfully, it has a double sink and the toilet is in a small little room all by itself.
“Hey, are we going to that party tonight?” Madison asks me from the doorway with an excited smile.
“Of course.” I reply with a grin. “Why don’t you take a shower first and then wake me up when you are done with the bathroom.” I suggest with a yawn. She nods and disappears from the doorway.
Madison and I are opposites when it comes to looks. She is eight inches taller than my dainty five feet and is curvy where I am petite. She has long golden blonde hair and blue eyes with a gorgeous tan while I have long black ringlet curls, violet eyes fringed with thick dark lashes and porcelain skin. Her face is heart shaped with a pert nose and red lips. My face is more oval with a long elegant nose that is tipped up at bit at the end and full luscious lips.
Luckily for me Madison has always taken a long time in the bathroom and by the time she is finally done and wakes me up I have gotten nearly a two-hour nap. My energy renewed by my power nap I am ready to head to the party a half hour after being woken.
The party is at a fraternity house on the outskirts of campus and we drive over since it is a couple miles away. Madison quickly becomes swallowed up in the mass of people at the party and I am again left to my own devices. She has always been the popular one and the guys flock to her gorgeous cheerleader looks. I see her across the room surrounded by a large group of jocks all vying for her attentions.
I get myself a beer from one of the kegs and wander around slowly and people watch.
“Hey.” A tall blonde guy greets me.
“Hi.” I return with a friendly smile.
“I’m Vic.” He introduces himself. “You here by yourself?”
“I’m Isabella and no.” I nod across the room where Madison is. “That’s my friend talking to the large group of guys.”
Vic looks over at Madison and nods his head as he raises his eyebrows.
“So, do you go the university?” He asks as he moves slightly closer and smiles down at me seductively. “I’m in my third year here and am working on a Business degree.”
“My first year and I am working towards a Master’s in history.” I reply, feeling anxious at the expression on his face.
“Any particular period in history?” He asks conversationally.
“Well, I’m interested in genealogy. Specifically, French and Scottish.” I explain.
“Want to dance?” He asks as he nods towards the dance floor where a mass of people is clinging to each other tightly as a slow song plays.
“Not enough to drink yet.” I laugh honestly. “But I’m sure you will be the first to know when I am ready.”
Vic looks to be right around six feet tall and his blonde hair brushes his shoulders in a windblown fashion. He has dark brown eyes with dark lashes and very Nordic features. His build is toned and it appears that he works out regularly.
I learn that Vic is working towards a Master’s in business so he can work in his father’s shipping company. He is interested in taking over the European side of the company after graduation. I am surprised to learn that Vic has included foreign languages in his degree to make his future even more successful. When I start talking to him in French his face registers pleasant surprise.
“Are you fluent?” He asks curiously.
“Yes.” I laugh. “My father’s side of the family originated in France and we have cousins that we visit over there every year.”
“I would be so grateful if you could help me with my French class.” He looks at me questioningly.
“Sure.” I agree with a shrug and save his number in my cell phone.
Madison comes over before it gets too late and after I introduce Vic to her we make our departure.
“He’s hot.” Madison gives me a look as we walk to my car.
“I suppose so.” I reply evasively.
“Oh come on Isabella!” She exclaims in frustration. “You never really dated anyone in high school and its high time that you explore that side of life now that you are in college.”
“Madison!” I retort with equal frustration. “I agreed to help him with his French so leave me alone.”
“Oh, good.” She relents with a pleased grin.
“We might get some storms tonight from that hurricane in the gulf.” I change the subject.
“Well, it is getting pretty windy out and the clouds look like they are about to burst at any time.” Madison agrees with me as she slides into the passenger seat of my Audi sports car.
I pull away from the curb and tighten my grip on the steering wheel when I feel the strong winds try to push my small car around. The sky’s open a torrential rain suddenly downpours on us as I head back to our dorm. Even with the windshield wipers going full blast I can barely see the road or the cars on it. I drive at a crawl trying desperately to keep sight of the lines on the road. Suddenly, I hear a horn and headlights appear right in front of my car. Screaming I try to turn out of the incoming path of the vehicle bearing down on me but the last thing I remember is that telltale crunch of two cars colliding.
I come awake and groan at the intense headache ripping through my temple. Suddenly remembering the sounds from the car accident I open my eyes and look around for Madison to see if she is alright. I am not in my car and judging from the room that I am in I am not in a hospital either.
I am lying on a huge four poster bed right out the medieval period with heavy lavender velvet bed hangings. The mattress I am on is lumpy and like nothing I have ever experienced before. Sitting up slowly I look around the room and feel my chest tighten at all of the antiques scattered around the room. My guess is that every piece in the room is no newer than the seventeenth century. There is a large fireplace directly across from the bed that is blazing brightly. On another wall are three tall narrow windows paned in small pieces of glass.
The walls and floors are both made of stone. There are numerous tapestries lining the walls and animal skins on the floors.
I reach up and feel the large goose egg that is just inside my hairline on the left side of my head. If I got this bump by the car accident, then where am I and why does it look like I am in a castle somewhere?
“M’lady!” A heavily Scottish accent comes from an old woman as she enters the room. “Yer awake!”
She is dressed in rough wool. The outer dress is sleeveless, brown, and hangs all the way to the floor. Under that is some sort of a long sleeved garment and upon her head is an amish type bonnet. She hurries over to me and checks my head for fever and then nods approvingly before hurrying towards the door.
Within a few minutes an older man rushes into the room with an expression of profound relief. He looks to be in his late fifties and is wearing a kilt that is a red with dark green and light blue accents. His hair is long, past his shoulders and is black peppered with gray. Judging from his clothing he does not appear to be a servant like the old woman.
“Braewyn!” He exclaims as he sits on the side of my bed and kisses my forehead affectionately. “I feared I had lost you Lass.”
Braewyn? Why is he calling me Braewyn? Something tells me to not share my confusion with these people so I smile weakly at him instead.
“Lord Mackay will be so pleased that the wedding can now proceed.” The old man tells me.
“What happened?” I ask carefully. The old man cocks his head to the side thoughtfully before he answers me.
“You don’t remember?” He asks to which I shake my head. “You were out riding that stallion again and he threw you. You hit your head when you fell.”
I try to stamp down the panic and hope that somehow this is just some sort of joke that someone is playing on me. I nod and lay back against the pillows as my headache sharpens into stabbing pains. Apparently, my headache is not a part of the joke however.
“Morag will bring you something to eat.” He says as he rises from the bed and leaves the room.
The next couple of days pass slowly for me. I am unable to get out of bed because of the persistent dizziness when I attempt to stand up. The old man, who I am guessing, must be Braewyn’s father visits me every day and fills me in on the details of this wedding he spoke of.
Finally, on the third day I am able to slowly make my way around the bedroom and the dizziness had passed. Morag was finally convinced to bring up a hot bath for me after a long argument where I told her I wouldn’t die from a chill.
I gaze at myself in the small mirror after my long soak in the tub and am actually surprised that I still look like myself considering these people seem to think that I am someone named Braewyn. Upon exploring the bookshelf I find a number of journals that belonged to Braewyn and eagerly read them.
Braewyn has two older brothers; John and Alexander and it is amazing but Braewyn’s last name is Sinclair just like my mother’s maiden name. If I rack my brain, I can picture the family tree that I did on my mother’s side of the family. If I am remembering correctly, then Braewyn’s father is the 2nd Earl of Caithness and that means that it is most likely the early 16th century. I have seen nothing to suggest that I am anywhere but in the medieval times somewhere. How I got here I have no idea. Did I die in that car accident with Madison and somehow take over Braewyn’s body because she too died after hitting her head? Is she, even now, in 2016 with my body?
I also learn from Braewyn’s journal that the man she is to marry is older even than her father. She is just eighteen years old and appears to be roughly the same age as I am.
Two weeks later I am finally allowed to leave my bedchamber. Morag helps me to dress in a deep purple riding habit and braids my black hair down my back. Thankfully, after all of the time I spent in France I became an expert rider so I am confident as I make my way down to the stable. The young boy in the stable saddles the stallion that I heard about and soon I am racing away from the castle with two guards trying to keep up with me.
If the bedchamber I have been in for two weeks didn’t convince me that I have time travelled, then the sight of the castle from outside its walls surely convinces me. Nowhere have I found anything to suggest that I am still in the year 2016.
I ride south from the castle along the shoreline and give the horse his head, allowing him to race as fast as he wants to. I can hear the guards yelling from behind me but I pay them no heed as I fly across the rocky cliffs overlooking the beach down below.
The stallion starts to slow after some time of hard riding and I allow him to rest while I lead him down to the beach. The guards that were behind me are nowhere to be found as I sit down on a rock and watch the waves sadly. How I wish I could just go home.
After sitting for quite a while I hear what sounds like fighting coming from up on the cliffs above me. Standing up I walk back up the incline leading my mount behind me to see what is going on above. My two guards are trying to block a large party of men from descending to the beach below and appear to be losing. My appearance distracts my guards long enough that they soon lose their life to the strangers.
When I turn to make my way quickly down to the beach my way is blocked by a huge highlander with long black hair and pale green eyes. The tartan of his kilt is dark green and navy with red and white stripes which tells me that they are not Braewyn’s kin the Sinclairs.
“You are a long way from home Lady Sinclair.” The large highlander says with the now familiar Scottish accent.
“Who are you?” I ask him softly.
“You should recognize my plaid Lass.” He replies evasively. I shake my head at him helplessly.
“It is rumored that you nearly died after falling from your horse.” He says conversationally. “It is said that you are too wild for your father to control. Imagine my surprise at finding you miles from Sinclair Castle and playing right into my hands.”
I shake my head and begin backing up away from him but am stopped by a large figure preventing my escape. I leap astride my horse and manage to run down the man standing in my way and race north, thankful that the stallion has had a chance to rest.
Too soon the large highlander is gaining on me, his own stallion anxious to catch mine. Terrified at what will happen to me should he catch me I do everything I know to do to urge my mount faster to no avail. He reaches over and grabs my horses bridle and slows us down to a walk. Too stubborn to give up I jump down and run on foot as fast as I can. I am tackled from behind and the wind is knocked out of me as he pins me to the ground. I try to kick, bite and scratch my way free but he effortlessly holds my wrists above my head and chuckles down at me.
“You are a little hellion aren’t you Lass?” He says, his green eyes darkening with some unknown emotion. I lie beneath him panting with my spent exertions and glaring daggers at his arrogance.
He stands and pulls me to my feet keeping a firm grip on me as he leads me over to his horse. He lifts me in his arms easily and places me in front of him on his mount and quickly wheels around heading south. My stallion is set free to make its way home.
We ride the horses as fast and hard as we can all through the night and into the next morning without stopping. About midday we slow down as we approach a massive castle that looks to be fairly new. It is square and appears to be a combination of French renaissance and Scottish baronial architecture.
I moan with relief as the large highlander helps me down from the horse in the spacious courtyard. My whole body is in agony from the unaccustomed hours in the saddle. He leads me inside the keep and into the great hall where there must be at least seventy-five men eating the midday meal. An older woman rushes up to us with a bright smile.
“Ye succeeded.” She exclaims as she looks at me approvingly.
“Aye.” He replies to the woman. She is also a tiny woman with red hair and the same shade of green eyes as the man holding onto my arm. “Mother, may I present Lady Braewyn Sinclair. Lady Sinclair, this is my mother Lady Niamh Sutherland.”
“My lady.” I murmur politely as I bow my head meekly.
“There is a bath waiting in your chamber and the priest is waiting.” Lady Sutherland tells him. I am led up to a tower room that obviously belongs to my captor. The large bed is on a dias in the middle of the room and has dark green bed hangings. There is a fireplace opposite the bed that takes up the whole wall with a large copper colored tub before it filled with steaming water.
“You will allow Sorcha to help you bathe or I will do it myself.” My tall highlander threatens me seriously. I gaze around the room quickly and realize that there is no way that I can escape my predicament. The only window is very narrow and the glass is separated by metal strips. I nod my agreement and he leaves me alone in the room with the girl.
I stand quietly while she undresses me and quickly scrubs me from head to toe. After she helps me into a clean black silk gown she deftly arranges my hair and leaves the room taking my dirty clothes with her.
I stand gazing out the small window at the sea crashing along the rocks far below and do not hear the door open behind me.
“Have you figured out why you are here yet?” My highlander asks from behind me. I turn and he is looking at me with a closed expression on his face.
“My guess is that you intend to marry me since a priest was mentioned.” I reply softly.
“I meant why I abducted you.” He states. I shake my head.
“Everyone knows the rumors.” He exclaims in icy tones.
“My near death that you heard of?” I bring up. He nods at me. “I hit my head when I fell from the horse and I do not remember anything before waking from that injury. If there is a rumor, I am supposed to remember as to why I am here then I’m afraid the memory is just not there.” I lie to him smoothly.
“Your father abducted and killed my sister.” He states in a clipped voice. I gasp my shock. He crosses the room and comes to stand closely in front of me.
“Where did you hit your head?” He whispers. I lift my hand and gently place it on the large bump that still lies beneath my raven curls. He reaches out and inspects the goose egg above my temple and nods his head.
“Why would you wish to marry the daughter of the man who murdered your sister?” I ask curiously.
“Your father wishes to strengthen the alliance with the Mackay clan by marrying you to the old chieftain. When the marriage fails to take place the fragile alliance between them will crumble.” He explains to me. “I am also taking away from him that which he holds dear; you, just as he took away my sister.”
“I don’t know your name.” I state in a tiny voice, feeling sorry for this man whose sister was so brutally taken from him.
“Malcolm de Moravia, 8th Earl of Sutherland.” He tells me. “Come, the priest is waiting.”
I take his arm and he leads me down through the castle and out to a chapel that is inside the thick walls. There are only a few people present, one being his mother.
The chapel is much smaller than I had imagined it would be. It is a small, narrow room with six rows of pews that could only seat two people each. For some reason I pictured the huge cathedrals that they show on the movies. The priest is a tiny old man wearing a dull brown floor length robe with a huge cross that nearly hangs to his waist.
I try my best to stamp down the panic that is beginning to flow through me at the thought of marrying a complete stranger, my physical pain from the long hours in the saddle completely forgotten.
Thankfully, the ceremony is in English because had it been in Scots Gaelic I would have been in trouble. I am sure a girl in the early 16th century would have to be fluent in that language, especially in the highlands. I repeat my vows in a shaky voice and am stunned when Malcolm actually has a ring to place on my finger. It is a beautiful yellow gold with a sparkling emerald in an ornate setting.
There is a feast prepared in the great hall and when Malcolm and I enter the room I am shocked to see the massive room is more than full of people. He leads me up to a table at one end of the room and politely seats me.
Since I am not sure if it is appropriate for me to help myself to the food, I wait for Malcolm to make the first move. He places a small piece of meat, I am guessing it’s venison, fresh bread, and some unknown dishes on my plate at the same time that he takes some for himself. My appetite has no problem eating anything since it has been nearly two days traveling with really nothing substantial. I am careful to only sip the wine that is in front of me because I am really not used to alcohol.
The girl who helped me bathe appears behind me and at my questioning look Malcolm gestures that I am supposed to go with her. She is most likely supposed to help me get ready for Malcolm.
She helps me to remove my black silk gown and the many layers underneath. After slipping thin white cotton nightgown over my head she brushes out my long black curls. She helps me into the huge bed and then quietly disappears. Once she is gone I slip from the bed and curl up on a chair in front of the window.
“You’re supposed to be in bed Braewyn.” Malcolm says lightly after closing the door behind him.
“What is the date?” I ask him hesitantly. He gazes down at me thoughtfully for several seconds before finally answering.
“It is the first of September.” He answers as he turns away after removing his linen shirt. He sits down on a wingback chair by the fireplace to remove his knee length leather boots.
“What is the year?” I whisper. His head whips up and he pins me with a strange look.
“Surely your father told you all of that after your fall.” Malcolm says as he studies my expression curiously.
“He doesn’t know that I don’t remember anything.” I confess as I lower my gaze to the floor.
“Why wouldn’t you tell your father that your memory was gone?” He asks me incredulously.
“Because your wife has her memory; it just isn’t Braewyn’s.” A strangely accented male voice says. I raise my head and see a very tall slender man with strawberry blonde hair standing across the room.
“What are you doing here Finn?” Malcolm bites out angrily. “You are interrupting my wedding night.”
“I know I am and I am truly sorry Malcolm, but this is important.” Finn explains.
“You know what happened to me don’t you?” I ask excitedly as I rise from my chair. Malcolm looks between me and Finn in rising confusion.
“Yes Isabella, I do.” Finn states with a warm smile. “Malcolm, may I introduce you to your wife Isabella de la Vergne de Moravia. I brought her here from the future because she needs your protection and since you have done so well protecting our four talismans you are the only one I can trust with her.”
“Why has she been passing herself off as Braewyn Sinclair?” Malcolm asks tightly.
“Isabella is descended from the Sinclair clan and is the spitting image of Braewyn. Isabella is being targeted by Bres and I barely saved her life by sending her here into Braewyn’s place. I am also doing this to protect your future Malcolm. Because of who your father truly was Isabella is the only one who can carry your children.” Finn explains. “Isabella comes from five hundred years in the future. She doesn’t understand how she came to wake up in the year 1510 and why everyone is calling her Braewyn Sinclair. I would imagine her greatest fear in revealing herself is that she would be burnt as a witch.”
“So she is your gift to me?” Malcolm asks sarcastically.
“Of course.” Finn laughs loudly. “I will leave you to your consummation.” Finn promptly disappears into thin air causing me to gasp in stunned surprise.
“Where did he go and how did he just disappear like that?” I ask.
“Finn is not human; he is one of the Fey. He is a part of the Tuatha de Dannan.” Malcolm explains.
“Oh.” I exclaim. “They were said to be a magical race of beings that settled in Ireland. They were worshipped as gods and there were some that thought they were a race of fairy beings.”
Malcolm approaches me slowly and I can hear my heart race with fear as well as anticipation. He stops in front of me and uses his thumb to raise my gaze to his.
“No more secrets between us Wife.” He murmurs. “Now that you know I will not harm you.”
“No more secrets.” I whisper in agreement.
He lowers his head and gently brushes his lips across mine. It is as if he has lit a spark inside me so intense is my reaction to his touch. I have been kissed before but I was always turned off by their attentions, not so this time. A yearning is burning inside me and I can feel parts of me wake up that have been dormant forever. He groans at my response and instantly deepens the kiss, plundering my moist recesses with his tongue. I open to his invasion ecstatically and moan in response as I try to copy his movements with those of my own.
Before I realize what is happening Malcolm has me undressed and lying on the bed under him. His heated kisses travel over every inch of my aching body as my breathing escalates to panting with need. I scream at the earth shattering explosion when his mouth closes over that sensitive bud at the juncture of my thighs. He rises above me and parts my legs and nudges himself where his lips just were. He kisses me almost violently as he begins to push his large length inside of me slowly. My need is as great as his and I try to pull him closer to me but he does not speed up his invasion and instead pauses at my barrier of innocence.
“Please.” I gasp, needing him to finish what he has started. He plunders my mouth roughly at the same time that he slams forward, breaking through my virginity with sudden excruciating pain. In shock I try to push him away to end the agony ripping through me but he pins my wrists above my head firmly.
“Easy Lass.” He murmurs against my temple. “No more pain. Lie still for me.”
Tears are trickling down into my hair as I lie beneath him and try not to squirm at the uncomfortable fullness inside me. After several moments he begins to move inside me once again and the need suddenly flares to life again. Instead of trying to push him away I am moaning and writhing beneath him trying to make him move harder and faster. He feeds the flames of my need and soon I am spiraling over the peak and screaming his name as I soar into dark fulfillment.
When I open my eyes he is gazing down at me with a satisfied grin. He kisses my nose affectionately and strokes my cheek gently.
“Are you alright?” He asks with genuine concern. I nod and blush a bright pink at my uncontrollable reaction to him. “I think Finn knew what he was doing when he gave you to me.”
“I think I have to agree with you Husband.” I whisper and smile up at him happily. “Sutherland.” I state as I suddenly remember something.
“Yes.” He says as he gazes down at me curiously.
“What was your sister’s name and how long ago did she die?” I ask as I remember something about the Sutherland clan that struck me as odd when I was doing my genealogical research.
“Her name was Elizabeth and she was killed a month ago.” Malcolm answers. “Why?”
“Finn told you that my mother is from the Sinclair clan.” I explain to him. “I have a great interest in the family history and I have done extensive research into the Sinclair clan. I have also started to research the neighboring clans that were close to them in the highlands. I was just starting to do research on the Sutherland clan. Before I explain what I found I need you to tell me everything you know about your sister’s death and what her connection is to the Earl of Huntley’s youngest son.”
“Elizabeth is my younger sister and since our father is dead it is my responsibility to find her an appropriate match for a husband.” Malcolm tells me. “She had fancied herself in love with the Earl of Huntley’s youngest son; a man with no future of a title, lands or fortune. I of course rejected her appeal to marry this man. It was not much time later that her lady’s maid came to me and told me what had happened with your father. Elizabeth liked to go to the cliffs along the coast to watch the sea crash along the rocks. Your father stumbled upon her there and the maid watched him rape my sister and then throw her down into the sea.”
“Did you ever find your sister’s body?” I ask him softly. “Was there any way that the maid could prove what she saw or was it only her word?”
“We never found Elizabeth’s body.” Malcolm confesses. “I had no choice but to take the word of her maid. Keeva grew up here with our clan. Her family has served ours for generations. I had no reason to doubt her story.”
“Elizabeth is not dead.” I tell Malcolm carefully. “What was her reaction to you when you told her that she couldn’t marry the Gordon boy?”
“I have never seen her so angry.” Malcolm tells me. “I feared she would never speak to me again. Why are you asking me all of these things? What did you discover in my family history?”
“It would be a waste for Finn to bring me here to bear you children with what is to come to pass.” I explain. “Your Earldom will pass out of the Sutherland family and pass on to the Gordon’s. In just a few short years your sister gives the title to the man you told her she couldn’t marry, which means you will be dead.”
Malcolm’s face pales at my declaration as he realizes the truth of my words.
“Elizabeth is with Adam Gordon.” He murmurs.
“To be certain all you have to do is trick Keeva into confessing to you her part in the lie.” I tell him. “If Keeva believes that her life will be in danger for her part in conspiring to kill you then you will have the proof you need.”
“What made you remember such a small detail?” Malcolm asks me curiously.
“I have a great interest in history and I thought it was very strange that after an Earl dies his sister, a woman with a younger brother, was allowed to give her families title to an unrelated man.” I explain. “Elizabeth becomes the 10th countess of Sutherland after your death. History shows almost exclusively that the title always goes to the next male kin in line, not a female relative and for her to manage to give away your family Earldom to someone was just unfathomable to me.”
“What happened to Alexander then?” Malcolm asks.
“He fought her some years later to claim the title for himself but he ends up killed.” I confess sadly. I watch as Malcolm’s face darkens with rage at this information. He rises from the bed and after washing quickly he gets dressed.
“I will have Sorcha bring up a bath for you so that you can soak away the soreness that I caused.” Malcolm leans over me and kisses me tenderly. “Custom dictates that the sheets be displayed as proof of your innocence so she will also change the bedding. After your bath you need to sleep. I am going to speak to Keeva and start preparations in bringing Elizabeth home.”
“Malcolm, if Elizabeth knows you are coming or recognizes the person you send she will go into deeper hiding.” I warn him with a yawn. “She cannot get wind that you know. Keeva will get word to her if you aren’t careful.”
“I know.” He chuckles. “I already have a plan in mind and the perfect person to send for my deceitful sister. I went to Eton with an English Earl that my sister has never met, but he is quite familiar with her.”
He hurries from the room and before I can fall into a satisfied slumber Sorcha arrives with several boys to fill the tub. While I am soaking, she changes the sheets on the bed and helps me into a clean nightgown before discreetly disappearing.
So exhausted from the last couple days’ events I sleep for thirty-six hours and when I finally wake I see both Malcolm and Finn pacing the bedchamber.
“Did I miss something important?” I ask anxiously.
“You were right.” Malcolm says after kissing my forehead affectionately. “Keeva confessed everything that she knew. Elizabeth planned her death so that she could run away with Adam Gordon. Keeva is being held in a tower chamber and only I have access to her. I sent a messenger to my friend the Earl of Morton and Finn thinks that Elizabeth should be back home in a fortnight.”
“Finn, you mentioned that because of Malcolm’s father I was the only one who could give him children.” I state curiously. “Why?”
“Malcolm is half fey.” Finn states. “His father is one of the original members of the Tuatha de Dannan. The women of the Sinclair clan have also given birth to half fey children, thus making certain Sinclair women fertile with the fey.”
“But, how do you know that I am one of those fertile ones?” I ask curiously.
“We of the fey can sense when humans are compatible with us for mating.” Finn explains. “Malcolm can only produce children with someone whose genes have been altered by our DNA.”
“Who is Bres and why does he want to kill me?” I persist as I slip my robe on and curl up in a wingback chair.
“Bres is half Fomorian.” Finn explains. “Fomorians are fey as well but they are evil opposites of the Tuatha de Dannan. He was once king of the Tuatha de Dannan and wants the power of our magic talismans back as his own. He needs to destroy the family line that protects those talismans for us. By killing you Malcolm has no way of continuing on the family line.”
“Surely Bres is aware of my location.” I state the obvious.
“Dunrobin Castle has wards in place that Bres and his followers cannot breach.” Malcolm tells me.
“So, I am basically safe as long as I don’t leave the castle?” I ask incredulously.
“Aye Lass.” Malcolm says as he watches my expression carefully. “Am I going to have difficulties enforcing this?”
“No.” I answer somewhat petulantly. He laughs loudly at my sassy attitude.
“I will just have to keep a close eye on my willful wife then.” Malcolm murmurs.
“What a caveman!” I exclaim in frustration. “Do you know that I was living on my own before I was zapped back here to the 16th century? I was my own boss! Went where I wanted, when I wanted with whom I wanted!”
“Surely you jest.” Malcolm scoffs disbelievingly. “Why would your male relatives allow a female relative to be unprotected?”
“Times change, husband.” I scoff back sarcastically. “Women live alone, work outside the home, are educated, and make their own choices.”
Malcolm looks at Finn for support but Finn nods his head and smiles.
“She is right Malcolm.” Finn agrees with me. “The 21st century is much different.”
“Well, she lives in the 16th century and here women obey or are summarily punished.” Malcolm replies firmly.
“Yes M’lord.” I stand and curtsy to him meekly.
“Marriage to you will not be dull, will it Isabella de la Vergne de Moravia?” He drawls with a dark smile.
“Never.” I smile impishly.