Nessa had never seen such a look of abject disappointment, but he obeyed immediately, corralling Angus and leading him away. Damn, she was so stupid! Why couldn’t she just have dressed in front of him? Maybe they could have stayed together longer. Maybe even long enough to get away.
“Wait, will I get to see him later? Angus!” She started towards the door, but her progress was stopped short by Bridei’s hand on her arm.
“Don’t worry Ness”, Angus called to her. “I’ll come back for you later. You just wait here and stay out of trouble.”
“No,youstay out of trouble!” She pulled at her arm. “Letgoof me!” The King released her with a dark laugh.
“A fiery lass. Not a goddess. Not a Christian. Just Nessa of Fife. You speak our language quite well, but with a slight accent. One I’ve never heard before”, he said thoughtfully. “But then, we don’t get many visitors from Northumbrian strongholds, at least not since the last rebellion.”
Nessa felt a wave of panic wash over her. Why had she said Fife? She had read the text a hundred times. Sheknewthese people were basically at war with the lands to the south. Why couldn’t she have said Dal Riata, or even Ireland? Norway would have done just fine. But noooo, she had to tell him she was from bloodyFife!
“Umm.. Pictish is my mother’s tongue. I grew up in Fife, where my father is from.” Where they spoke what, English? Old English.Reallyold. She wouldn’t understand a word of it. The language had changed too much in a thousand years. She would just have to hope she didn’t meet any English speakers while she was here. It couldn’t possibly take long before she managed to find Angus and get them both back to the well. A few days at most. Then she would be back home, taking care of the farm, visiting Gram, going out with Nathan to their favorite restaurant…
“Why are you here?” Bridei had circled around and was standing in front of her, his dark eyes missing nothing. She could smell him; an enticingly exotic, masculine scent that rose from his warm skin. The tattoos marking his face made him look primitive and uncivilized.Because he is, Nessa!she reminded herself.
She mentally shook herself.Think, Nessa. Think fast! “I…we…my uncle was taking me north. We got a little lost.” She tripped over her words in part because she was freezing and her teeth had begun to chatter again. Finally giving up on her pride in favor of warmth, she shoved the dry tunic at Bridei so she could take off her damp, clinging t-shirt, not even caring that he was watching. The last thing she needed was hypothermia on top of all her other problems. She left the bra on though, tossing her wet shirt onto a wooden stool and reaching again for the tunic. It slid over her head, coming to a rest just below her knees. She’d noticed the other women had hiked theirs up shorter and belted them at the waist, but she needed all the warmth she could get. And she didn’thavea belt. She pulled the tunic up in the front just far enough to unfasten her jeans. The soggy denim was tight and stiff, and she had to struggle, shimmying and wiggling the fabric down her legs, letting the tunic fall in place after it.
“He was escorting you to be married?” Bridei asked. His voice was a little huskier than before, his nostrils flaring slightly again as he watched her wrestle the wet fabric from her body.Men. They were apparently the same in any time.
And of course he’d assumed she was going to get married; after all, why else would a woman be travelling from home, if not to become the property of a man? Little did the King know that Nathan had been trying for months to eke even a solid commitment out of her. She just couldn’t bring herself to settle down. But on the other hand, what a good, plausible reason for her to be travelling…
“Aye. My father has arranged for me to marry…um, a friend of a friend. That’s where I was going. When we got lost.”
“Whom are you to wed?”
“I can’t say. It’s a secret arrangement.”
“A secret marriage? For what purpose? Are you with child?”
His eyes fell to her slim waist and flat stomach.
“No! No, of course not.” She knew from her books that the Picts didn’t condone children outside of marriage any more than modern day Scots did, though that was changing in Scotland and elsewhere. But here, now, there was a structure to society, a time and place for children, which the Picts cherished as gifts from the gods and symbols of prosperity. No, she wasn’t pregnant, but shewasreminded that she was due to start her period any moment now. Great. It had better hold off until she could get out of here.
“Give me your father’s name.”
“Malcolm Brodie.” That had been her grandfather’s name, not her father’s. She sincerely hoped there weren’t anyMalcolmBrodiescurrently living in Fife who were about to meet with trouble they didn’t deserve.
Bridei pulled Petra aside and whispered instructions to her. Then he took one last pensive look at Nessa, and simply left.
Bridei signaled to Namet from across the yard, then went into the broch, sinking into his chair; theKing’schair, where he sat to listen to his people, settle disputes, judge the guilty, and on occasion plan for battle. But now he waited for Namet with his body still stirred and aching from his recent encounter with the mysterious and beautiful woman in his roundhouse, and not enough time to do anything about it. He shifted uncomfortably. The lass, Nessa of Fife, Not a Goddess—his lips quirked at that—was something to behold. Oh aye, he had wanted her, from the first moment he’d set eyes on her, dripping wet and looking much like a half-drowned pup, with her long, exotically golden hair falling in sodden ringlets around her face. What man wouldn’t? He couldn’t remember his body ever responding so powerfully to an attractive woman, but it was her scent that had done him in. It was achingly similar to the sweet smell that had haunted his dreams ever since that night on the shore near Orkney. That scent alone was enough to make him throb with need, and he wondered why it was so.
It was such a shame that he couldn’t bed her, even if it turned out she was just a harmless lass and not an enemy after all. He had rules about such things, and it was rules that made him a powerful King. Many women would do anything to share his bed, and some would try to bend his will with their bodies. He was above such things. No woman could sway his mind, let alone his heart. His heart belonged solely to the people he led and protected. But ah, gods…if only he could have his hands on…
His thoughts were interrupted when Namet appeared, pulling up a chair to sit in front of him, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees.
“Tell me, Namet.”
“He rambled a lot. Much of what he said made no sense. But all in all, he claims he and the lass are here from a future time, and he is trying to save us all from destruction by a tribe called the Vikings.”
“I’ve never heard of such a tribe.”
“Neither have I, though I think he may be referring to the Northmen, by the way he described them when I asked. It doesn’t matter anyway, because the lunatic says he didn’t land in the right time at all, that he meant to arrive three hundred years from now.”
Bridei’s eyebrows drew together. “Do you believe him?”
“Of course not. The man is crazy. Even the lass seems to know that. What didshesay?”
“Their stories don’t match. One of them is lying…or both.” Bridei sighed, started to lean back in his chair, then thought better of it. He didn’t need to display his lust for the lass, not even in front of his most trusted advisor. “I’m afraid that we may have yet another spy on our hands.”
