“Seriously?”
But Ross looked serious as a heart attack. He turned to his brother. “Grey . . .”
His brother cut him off.
“Kissing a woman like Lady Màiri in public, and then telling her father, a laird who’s an extremely religious man . . . it’s like getting a girl pregnant in our time.”
The hair on the back of his neck stood up straight.
Obviously he knew he wasn’t in New Orleans anymore, let alone the twenty-first century. He wasn’t a total idiot. But kissing a girl and getting her pregnant seemed like completely different things to him.
“Consarn it, ye wee bastard!” The woman’s shrill scream was, thankfully, not aimed at him. A woman dressed like a servant stopped short as she chased a young boy around the corner.
“Pardon, my lords.”
My lords.
Yup, I’m not in Kansas anymore.
Ian felt the same creeping sense of dread he’d experienced after a shipyard accident last month. The situation had been completely out of his control, yet it had been his job to manage the fallout.
He’d kissed the woman and announced the fact to her father. And if Grey thought this was serious, then it was. Maybe he should play along. Besides, he wouldn’t be staying here long. As soon as their family was reunited, he’d be vanishing out of medieval Scotland quicker than a snowball in hell.
God, he could go for a condensed-milk-covered snowball now. And a hot shower.
He’d leave, and Lady Màiri would be “widowed” and free to carry on with whomever had taught her to kiss that way. She’d said,He was not there.Had she intended to meet someone at the lake? A secret lover, perhaps? Why else would she have been in the middle of nowhere, alone? He’d been in medieval Scotland for less than a week, and even he knew it was dangerous to ride out alone.
“I’ve done stupider shit than this,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. Well, okay, maybe not quite this stupid, but nevertheless, it looked like he was getting married. At least his wife was hot. Not that he’d be having sex with her.
He hadn’t brought any condoms along, and the last thing he wanted to do was leave a kid behind to be raised centuries before he himself was even born.
Time travel could give a guy a headache.
“Only you would smirk about something this serious,” his brother said.
If Grey was disgusted with him, it wouldn’t be the first time. Ross, for his part, just gave him an odd look and walked away, apparently expecting them to follow.
Tossing his arm around his brother, Ian tried to lighten the mood.
“So talk to me about what they do here for bachelor parties.”
7
“This can nae be happening.”
Màiri fingered the deep green gown that had been her mother’s. Alana had retrieved the garment and secured a gold chain belt around the waist to give it more shape than had been the custom when it had last been worn.
A gesture Màiri appreciated even if the occasion was not one for celebration.
If the past sennight had been filled with pleas for her father to stop this madness—ones he had disregarded—this day had been the opposite. Resigned, she watched as Alana continued to pack her trunk. The one that would be going with her to Hightower.
A wave of hopelessness washed over her.
“Alana?”
Her voice came out as a squeak. When Alana looked up, she immediately dropped the kirtle in her hands and came to her. Crying on your maid’s shoulder the morn of your wedding did not bode well for the marriage. But it was clear she was not going to get out of this match. Ambrose had not come to see her. He had not even sent word back to her.
Nearly frantic to speak with him before today, she’d contemplated stealing away by herself. But her father was being even more watchful than usual, and she doubted she could convince the guards to allow her passage. Besides which, riding to the lake alone was dangerous enough. She wasn’t fool enough to attempt riding all the way to Clan Dern.
