Timeless Mist Read Online Free PDF Page A

over
the side of the bed, go ing easy to keep the room from spinn ing any more. She knew she'd not had more than one
glass of wine with dinner last even ing ,
so it could n't be that .
    "So, ye are final ly awake are ye?" Kris
jumped when the door to her room swung open to admit an elder ly woman. The woman laid the
bundle she carried on the table and poked at the fire that crackled in the huge fireplace.
    Kris was positive she'd never seen the woman before;
she was pretty certain she'd have recognized the woman's
authentic seventeenth century cloth ing and long gray ing hair.
Though it was tied in
a braid, it reached near ly to her waist. When she turned to face Kris, her dark brown eyes showed concern
as well as curiosity.
    Mr. MacGregor did try to make e very th ing as genuine and authentic
to the time period as possible, but the woman had spoken in Gaelic.
    "How are you feel ing this love ly morn ing , lassie?" Her voice was younger than her
appearance.
    "Who are you?" Kris realized that was rude, but could n't stop herself from blurt ing it out anyway.
    "The more appropriate
question would be--who are ye?" A male voice inquired from the doorway.
    Kris started to turn toward that all too familiar voice, not certain if she dared
to draw a breath. It could not be possible she thought and closed her eyes, trepidation mak ing her afraid to look.
    Do n't be sil ly , she scolded,
and opened her eyes, on ly to feel them widen to impossible proportions as her mouth dropped open and the
blood drained from her face.
    As her eyes met his, the shock that resonated through her
made her brain go numb. A queasy feel ing in her stomach, along with a t ing l ing sensation started at the
tips of f ing ers, and
spread through her body.  
    She looked into the face of none
other than Iain MacGregor.
    Kris to the next logical th ing --she gave into the
blackness that called
at the edges of her mind and fainted—with a welcom ing sigh.
    *          *          *
    "By all the bloody saints,
how am I to question her if she up and swoons on me?" Iain looked to
Elsbeth.
    "What did ye expect,
Laird?" Elsbeth ans were d,
his disgruntled expression mak ing her laugh. "Ye come barg ing in the room with that great boom ing voice of
yours and scare the poor wee lass out of her wits."
    "I must question her."
Iain said matter-of-fact ly ,
and walked over to the girl for a closer look.
    Elsbeth's son, Raibert, had found her ear ly this morn ing wander ing about the woods behind
the Castle. Raibert had called to her, but she'd run like a frightened rabbit. When she tripped and knocked herself unconscious on a
rock, Raibert brought her to the keep.
    Whoever she was , she was adorable. Her
heart-shaped face had high cheekbones and a strong chin that hinted towards stubbornness. The strange garment she wore on ly covered her to just below
the hips, offer ing him
just enough view of her legs to stir his interest. Not that he'd be interested. Most women, he'd found, were not h ing but trouble, and that was someth ing he did n't need any
more of. He had that and more in abundance
at the moment.
    He tore his gaze away from the
tantaliz ing sight and
refocused on her face. It was a face that held both
delicacy and strength. Her bright auburn hair, though disheveled, gleamed with
s had ows of deep gold
and rich red. The colors contrasted sharp ly with the dark, sooty lashes fram ing her eyes. Iain had to
fight the sudden urge to reach out and touch her, just to see if her skin was as soft as it looked. Surprised
by the urge, he clasped his hands behind his back as he continued to gaze at
her.
    "Laird." Elsbeth stood
beside him, hands on her hips.
    "Oh, aye." He grimaced,
feel ing like a lad with his hand
caught in the sweetmeats.
    Elsbeth was like a second màthair to
him, and she had the
uncanny knack to make him feel like a lad not even out of
breaches yet. His own màthair had been unable to
feed him, so Elsbeth had become his, and later his