Shared by the Highlanders (7 page)

I saw it, just yesterday. But then it was… different. The same, but not the same. The hut was in ruins, the tree much bigger, and dead. But it is the same. It
is
the same place.

I look across the valley, screwing up my eyes as I attempt to pick out the familiar road cutting through the Kirkstone Pass, or even the inn itself. I can see a small building in more or less the correct location for the pub, but no sign of the road, nothing but undisturbed heather. I lower my gaze to the dip between the two hills where I can pick out the farmstead, the same buildings I looked at just a day ago, or some of them. The large corrugated iron barn is no longer there, and the buildings I see now are just low, single-story structures.

And where are the wind turbines? The graceful, majestic sweep of their blades should be clearly visible on the skyline. They are not there, nothing. I scan the landscape, desperate now, my brain racing, searching for some familiar landmark to prove I’m not mad. It’s as though I’m playing some weird game of spot the difference, looking at the same picture but with details changed. The walls, the drystone ribbons that should be crisscrossing the moors are gone. There are no sheep, no cars on the now non-existent road.

Horrified, confused, scared of something I can’t even start to fathom, I run back down the hill toward the two men. They may be part of all this, but they do at least seem solid, and believable.

Will opens his arms and I rush into the comfort he offers without thinking. He hugs me to him, managing to wince only slightly as I wrap my arms around his injured torso.

“Lass, you look as though you’ve seen a ghost.” He sounds concerned, but that is nothing compared to the horror I am experiencing.

“Where are they? The turbines? What did you do?” I tilt my head back to glare at Will, as though one of them might just wave a hand and everything could be restored, all go back to how it should be.

“Turbines? What are they?” Robbie frowns at me, that now familiar look of bafflement on his handsome face.

“They’re huge, over a hundred feet high. They should be over there.” I point to the opposite hills, and both men turn to follow my gesture.

“Charlie, we’ve been travelling this route for years, and have never seen any—what do you call them? Turbines? A hundred feet, you say? We would have noticed, lass.”

“But they were there. They were. I saw them. Yesterday.”

Will hands his reins to Robbie and steps forward. I start to back away, but he’s quicker. I’m grabbed, pulled against his chest. “Calm down, you’re all right. We’ll talk, we can sort this out.”

“How? How can you sort this out? What’s happening to me?” I gesture back down the hill. “Last time I saw that tree it was ancient, dead. And the hut was derelict, the roof missing. It was old. Much, much older than it is now.”

“Now? When is now, lass? In your opinion?” Robbie’s tone is serious, and something in his voice causes me to cease my babbling and look into his eyes. He holds my gaze. “Charlie?”

“Two thousand and fourteen. April.”

“Aye, well, it
is
April, I grant you that. The fourteenth day. But the year is fifteen sixty-six.”

“No. It can’t be. That’s not possible.”

“It is, lass. Fifteen sixty-six I mean. As for what’s possible, well, only the good Lord really knows the answer to that.”

“But, that’s over four hundred years ago. People don’t just slip into some other time, lose four centuries, just like that.”

Will chuckles. “No, not as a rule. But it might help explain some things. Like your strange clothes, for a start.”

“Sod my clothes. What about my home? My job? I need to get back. I can’t stay here.”

“Okay. So how did you get here? Maybe you can return to wherever, whenever you came from, the same way.”

“I don’t know. I’ve no idea how it happened, what I did.”

“That’s awkward.” Will smiles at me, an attempt to reassure I daresay, but it fails utterly.

“This is crazy, just totally mad. There has to be a logical explanation. There must be.” I gaze across the landscape again, familiar yet so unknown. Even now I scan the wild landscape in desperation, seeking to spot some clue, some piece of evidence that will prove the twenty-first century still surrounds me, and that this nightmare is ending.

Nothing. No comforting phone mast or electricity pylons, no jet engine trails across the sky, no stray Coca-Cola cans abandoned by careless hikers. Just me, two bemused Scots, and a world that I no longer recognise.

“Lass, we need to be moving on. You can ride with me. We’ll talk, try to make sense of all this, and agree what to do about you. Come…” Robbie holds out his hand to me, and for want of a better option I take it.

Chapter Four

“Are you warmed up now, lass?” Robbie leans down to murmur in my ear.

“Yes, thank you. Those plaids of yours are very effective.” I pull the blue and green fabric up to my chin.

“Not mine, those are Sinclair colours.”

I turn to Will, cantering alongside us. “Thank you for lending them to me.”

“You’re welcome, lass. And I’m sorry I scared you back there, it was crass of me to speak to you so.”

He has no need to elaborate, and I make no pretence of not understanding. He’s referring to his offer to deal with the matter of my arousal. “I was feeling vulnerable, and yes, that was so not what I wanted to hear.” I pause, wondering if I should make my next remark. I toss caution to the winds. “Not then.”

“Lass?” Robbie starts behind me, his gloved fingers twisting the reins to slow the horse.

“Are we to gather you’ve discovered a liking for a decent paddling after all?” Will is typically direct, but his candour is not unwelcome this time. I can be quite bold when I’m upright and fully dressed. And when I have some choice in the matter.

“Not so much the paddling, as you call it. That was horrible, it hurt like hell, and I’m going to be sore for days. I’d very much like not to repeat it, if you please, though I probably wouldn’t make as much fuss next time.”

Will fixes me with a level look. Positioned as he is at my rear, I can’t see Robbie’s face, but I imagine his features are similarly set. Will replies for both of them. “We can’t promise not to repeat it, lassie, but you can be assured we won’t seek to punish you unduly. Nor will we ever injure you. You’re a strange creature to be sure, but we find ourselves unusually fond of you and we will see you safe if we can.”

“I hated the switch, and being forced to undress. I still think that was mean of you. You took advantage…” I pause, uncertain if I should continue, or what to say next.

“But?” Robbie is not letting me leave it there.

“But I loved the way you cared for me. After. And you listened to me, believed me when I had my meltdown.”

“Your what?”

“Meltdown. When I got so upset, and scared. Confused.”

Will’s features soften into a wry smile. “Ah, well, it’s not every day you lose the best part of four and a half centuries into thin air, is it, wee Charlie? On balance, I’d say you took it well. Though I’m not sure we believe you entirely. It’s a bit much to accept.”

“You’re telling me. But what other explanation is there? I know what I saw yesterday—the wind turbines, the tree, that farm. But now, today… nothing. And you told me what the year is now. I know when I set out yesterday I was in the twenty-first century. So…?” I hesitate, not wanting to bring up the next, inevitable point. “If you don’t believe me, if you think I’m lying, why are you not cutting another switch?”

Robbie answers me. “Why indeed, lass? Maybe because whatever we might think, you do seem to believe this fanciful tale of yours. You’re telling us what you believe to be true, and we’ll settle for that until something happens to prove or disprove your story. If we do discover you’ve been lying, then you don’t need us to remind you of the consequences.”

No, indeed I do not. I cringe as I contemplate the prospect of being stripped and beaten again, though this time my emotions are more mixed. However painful and humiliating the experience, I cannot deny it holds a certain erotic promise too. If I let it.

I dismiss those disconcerting ideas with some effort, determined to change the subject. I’ve shared information about myself so maybe now they could do the same. And it may help me to become less disoriented if I understood more about my companions.

“You are both noblemen, I take it. In Scotland?” I’m not sure if that is the correct term but it’s the best I can manage.

“Aye, lass, I suppose that’s a way to describe us.” Will grins across at me. “I’m the fourth son though, so not likely to inherit much of note. My father still lives and I have three older brothers who are well able to manage clan affairs and I’d be in the way. I prefer to make myself useful to our sovereign, and earn what I fondly think of as a living as an adventurer.” He jerks his thumb in Robbie’s direction. “He has but one brother, the laird, but the MacBride is blessed with two fine lads already and another bairn on the way so he’s in much the same boat as me. It’s a good enough existence, I suppose. We have enough excitement to keep us occupied, especially now that we’re saddled with a wee lassie badly in need of some firm discipline.”

I know exactly what he means by that final comment and I clench my poor abused bottom. Even so, I can’t quite bring myself to protest. The most sensible notion I can come up with is that this is not real life. Whatever madness I’ve stumbled into, the usual rules don’t apply here. If I want to submit to being spanked by sexy Highlanders, who’s to say I can’t?

“What are you thinking, girl?” Will has brought his mount up close and is studying my face carefully. I fear my ambivalence is apparent for him to see. In a sudden and uncharacteristic rush of reckless abandon I turn to look him in the eye.

“I’m thinking that all this talk of spanking is making me feel rather odd, and not in a bad way entirely.” I pause, then plough on. Not real life, after all. “If one of you wanted to touch me, to deal with my arousal as you so delicately put it back there, then that might be rather nice.”

“One of us? Do you have a preference, then?”

Good question. And one I don’t have a ready answer for. “No. I mean, you’re both different, but very handsome. And—compelling. I’m attracted to each of you. I wouldn’t want to cause any problem though. Between you two, I mean.”

“Why would you cause a problem? We’ve shared women before.” Robbie tightens his hold on me as I swivel in the saddle to peer up at him.

“You have? I mean, oh. Wow. How does that work then? Would you take turns, or…?”

“Or?”

“I don’t know. I can’t believe I’m even having this conversation.” Either one of these intriguing, dominant men would be more than enough to handle. The possibility of a sexual fling with both of them is just mind-blowing. But exciting. Incredibly, wonderfully exciting.

Robbie grins at me. “You are though. And by that rather fetching flush on your face, are we to gather you find the notion to be one you’d like to explore?”

“I, yes. Yes, I would. I think.”

“Ah, girl, we’re going to have such a good time together. Exploring.” He dips his head to drop a brief kiss on my forehead. “But first, we should eat. We broke camp in something of a rush and had not time to break our fast. Then I think it’s fair to say you distracted us back there with your luscious body, and your somewhat startling revelations about those lost centuries. I feel a need for a square meal before embarking on any further adventures.”

My stomach rumbles its agreement. “Do we have any food?”

“We can probably find a couple of plump trout in yonder stream, as well as some fresh water.” He nods in the direction of a swift flow over to the east of us, probably a stream that discharges eventually into Ullswater. “Will here has a useful knack for tickling the little ladies right out of the water. I reckon we’ll eat well enough. And we’re all going to need our strength.”

“Aye, I daresay I can find enough to sustain us.” Will screws up his eyes to peruse the moorland stream. “What’s that? Over there, just beyond the burn? That splash of blue.”

Robbie stretches behind me, looking over the top of my head. “A kingfisher, perhaps?”

Will shakes his head. “Too dark. And the wrong shape.”

I peer in the direction they seem to be looking, and my heart lurches as I recognise the lumpy outline, the particular shade of royal blue I loved when I first saw it in the Go Outdoors online catalogue. “It’s mine. My backpack. I put it down, just before you grabbed me. This must be the same place.”

“Yes, I suppose it could be.” This from Robbie, as he urges the horse forward.

“Can I go get it back? I mean, we could carry it, surely. It’s lightweight.”

“It doesn’t look light, lass. Are you really telling us you dragged that bloody load all the way up here?” Will kicks his horse into a canter again and closes the distance between our position and my abandoned kit. He hauls the horse to a halt beside my rucksack and leaps from the saddle. I can’t help admiring his agile, efficient movements. For a large man he is remarkably nimble.

He reaches for my pack and lifts it easily with his left hand. It dangles from his grip and he swings it, testing the weight. He calls back to Robbie. “She’s right, it’s not heavy.”

I turn to Robbie, hopeful. “So I can keep it then? Please? It has my things in it, stuff that might be useful. And food. I have my supplies in there too.”

“You don’t fancy a nice bit of trout then, lass?”

“What? Yes, of course. But…”

“You’re too easy riled, wee Charlie. Of course you can keep your belongings. We’ll strap your bag onto one of the saddles. So, about breakfast…” Robbie steers our horse over to where Will is already kneeling beside the stream, his sleeve rolled up. He lowers me to the ground next to my precious backpack then slides down himself. “I’ll gather some firewood. Raw trout isn’t nearly so appetising.”

I beam up at him from my position on the ground. I’m already reaching into my pack, the familiar sight of my twenty-first century equipment reassuring me that I’m not entirely mad. Even if I have just agreed to sleep with two seriously scary Scotsmen.