A Highlander in Her Past Read Free Page A

brain. Whew! She really needed to get rid of those heels. Comfort was so much more important than style. Lifting her gaze from her much happier toes, Trish motioned toward the shattered remnants of a crystal globe encased in a well lit curio cabinet. “Those boys have been doing magic since they were just a few weeks old. It’s their heritage. You’d think you and Latharn would be used to it by now.”
    “Not time travel.” Nessa hissed between tightly clenched teeth.
    Trish straightened, hopping on the remaining high-heeled boot and stumbling toward the wooden bench fitted into a stone niche beside the doorway. “Time travel? Seriously?”
    “Seriously.”
    “Wow.” Trish kicked off the boot and pulled both feet up into her lap, relaxing yoga-style against the back of the seat. “Um. Where…or I guess the more appropriate question would be when ?”
    Nessa lowered her swollen body onto the bench beside Trish, closing her eyes as she leaned against the throw pillow threatening to squish out from behind her back. “No where…or when. Luckily, Ramsay botched the spell. He claimed his cousin broke his concentration.”
    “I see.” Trish frowned at the gently moving tapestry to her left. Hopefully, if Nessa noticed the wavering cloth, she’d think it was just stirring due to heated air flowing from the free-standing heater positioned nearby. Time travel. Ramsay had always been fascinated with the past, almost obsessed with the need to know every detail of his ancestor’s lives. “Not that it matters, but which cousin did he blame? Usually, Catriona is the level-headed one of the group that catches all the heat. Was she the one who ratted them out?”
    Nessa nodded without opening her eyes. “Yes. Thank goodness our little Catriona was once again the voice of reason.” Flexing her spine, a pained expression darkened Nessa’s face as she massaged her knuckles up and down her lower back. “Trouble is…when she forced her way into the boys’ magical ring, the energy of the spell had to go somewhere and they nearly blew the roof off the northern tower.”
    “Is that what caused that gray cloud settling across the entry bridge?” Trish massaged her thumbs into the balls of her feet. “I thought it was a little late in the season for an early evening fog.”
    “Yep.” Nessa slid to the edge of the seat and hefted her weighty girth up from the bench with an awkward hitching launch. Pausing once she’d gained her footing, she closed her eyes and flexed her shoulders, still working her fingers up and down the base of her back. “The roof of the library tower is now hanging by a thread and half the blocks from the farthest parapet have been reduced to dust.”
    An involuntary shiver stole across Trish’s flesh. Holy cow. Ramsay had outdone himself this time. Speaking a bit louder while she risked another glance at the now motionless tapestry, Trish slowly unfolded her legs. “Sounds like they definitely pushed the envelope this time.” Wiggling her toes back into the persecution of her boots, Trish grimaced as she forced the tight leather heels back into place on her aching feet. “I didn’t hear a second explosion so I’m assuming Latharn doesn’t know that in a single afternoon, his sons destroyed a part of the castle that’s survived centuries of enemy attacks and extremes of Highland weather?”
    “Oh, he knows.” Nessa waddled toward the wide stone archway connecting the entry hall to the larger main room making up the first floor of the keep. “According to Ramsay, his father’s angry roar shook the remaining walls of the room even before the dust settled. Apparently, even though Latharn’s currently meeting with historians in Ireland, he sensed the displacement of the energy blast and made certain his sons felt his displeasure.”
    “In other words”—Trish cringed as she danced her pant legs down in place over her boots—“they’re gonna get it when Daddy gets home.”
    “Pretty