Groaning, Aedan didn’t meet his friend’s penetrating stare. Damn it. She was comely, more bloody comely than he’d seen for an age. Not that she’d looked overly appealing when she’d vomited on his boots. At least she hadn’t gushed and thrown herself at him, nearly impaling herself on his sword, like so many other lasses. “No. I’ve never seen an uglier wench in my life.”
His friend choked on his mead. “You jest, surely. I can’t imagine Gwen not selecting a woman who would suit your tastes.”
Aedan tore at the bread and scooped up the stew on his plate. “She did. The lass doesn’t suit, and that’s the end of this conversation.”
His sister entered the room and searched out Braxton. She walked toward them, her hands clutched tightly in front of her. Aedan stood, noting the distress darkening her normally serene visage.
“What is it, Gwen?” he asked.
She smiled at Braxton and sat, piling her plate with food from the platter. “Abigail hasn’t woken. I’m scared that grabbing her from her own time has caused her harm.”
Aedan sighed and sat back down. “I’m sure the lass will be fine, Gwen. As for your well-being, that is another matter. Ye are not to use any magic for the foreseeable future. Do ye understand?”
“So ye don’t want me to send her home, then?”
His sister grinned, and he fought to control his temper. She had a serious flirtation with death. “Do not push me, lass. Ye know what I mean.”
Gwen rolled her eyes and commenced eating.
“I’m sure she’ll wake soon, my love. It was probably quite a shock seeing the barbarian brother of yours for the first time. She’ll come around. And ye never know, your plan to see her married to Laird MacLeod may work.”
Aedan stood. “One more word about your ridiculous designs for my wife, and I’ll lock you both up in the dungeon.”
“In the same cell?”
His sister giggled.
“Watch it, Braxton. My gille sharpened my sword today.”
He walked from the room and headed toward his quarters. The tower stairs wound up past two floors before he came to his. He wanted the O’Cain clan burned to the ground before the first snows of winter fell on the Highland peaks. Fighting a clan battle knee deep in snow would kill them and the O’Cains and that was not how he wanted this war to end.
Therefore, he needed a wife, and soon. Wind blew in through the arrow holes in the walls and he shivered, the thought of marriage sending a chill down his spine. Not to mention the now added problem of an inconvenient woman from the future to deal with.
Perhaps he ought to kill her. The risk to those he held dear was immense. No one would miss the woman prone to vomiting on men. No one here knew her at all.
He entered his bedchamber and bolted the door. His bed was turned down already and a roaring fire burned in the grate, casting flickering shadows across the stone walls. The wind howled outside, the drafts seeking entrance through the smallest of cracks. Aedan sat and stared at the golden flames, the heat going some way to warming his core, but it wasn’t enough.
The woman was a threat to their safety that was already in danger from the O’Cains.
He ran a hand over his jaw, itching the stubble that had grown over the last few days. That he would go to war over Jinny was in part his fault. He should have checked on her. Travelled the miles between them and demanded access to her, spoken with her alone to gauge her happiness.
But he hadn’t, and now he must live with the guilt of his mistake for the rest of his life. No wife of his would be treated such. That was one thing he could promise his sisters. It may not be a marriage of love and affection, but it would be one of trust and respect.
He sighed. They had a sennight before the clans arrived for the Highland Games. A sennight in which to either send her home, or at least make her conform to his rules and play the part of a lady until they could send her back.
Gwen would never allow him to kill her. What he really ought to do was kill his frustrating sister. Had she, for once, thought through her actions, none of this would have happened.
Chapter 4
Abigail woke to the smell of wet wood, musty and damp. She leaned up on her elbows