SneakPeak

          Kristianna stood frozen to the floor. Her knees nearly buckled from the force of the shock that reverberated through her. This was
not possible. She glanced behind her. She needed to sit down, but there were no chairs. Only that painting occupied the dimly lit hallway.
          That painting. She swallowed, unable to keep her eyes from straying back to the man who stared down at her. The man from her
dreams. Sunlight from the nearby window lit his face. His shoulder length hair glinted with blue highlights, a shade darker than the crisp
hair visible at the opening of his white shirt.
           Compelled, she leaned forward, her hand extended. Her fingers itched to touch him. His blue eyes locked with hers. She moved
nearer. His neatly trimmed beard and mustache did nothing to hide the firm mouth that twitched in a mocking, self-confident smirk, almost
daring her to move closer.
           She dared.
           She reached to touch the silver brooch fastened to the red and green plaid draped carelessly over his shoulder. It was something
safe, not real like the rest of him. Real?
          Kris snatched her hand away. She looked around, fearful someone had seen her. The carpeted hallway was empty. Why then did
she have the sensation she wasn't alone, that someone watched her? She shook her head. What a vivid imagination. There was nobody
about and the painting was just an inanimate object, nothing more.
          With a deep breath to calm her shaking nerves, she looked up once more, finding an impossible not to stare at the man. Tall, with
broad shoulders, he stood with legs braced apart. His muscled arms crossed over his chest portrayed self-assurance in every line of his
powerful frame.
           Kris closed her eyes and shivered.
          "Is everything all right, Miss Campbell?"
           Kris jumped and whirled around with a squeak to find Brian MacGregor, the proprietor of Castle MacGregor, looking at her with
concern in his deep blue eyes. A sweet older man of about sixty or so, he reminded her of St. Nick from 'Twas The Night Before
Christmas. She offered him a wobbly smile.
          "I didn't mean to startle you," he chuckled.
          "It's okay. I guess I was lost in my thoughts and didn't hear you. And please, call me Kris." Every time someone called her Miss
Campbell, it only reminded her of how close she had actually been to becoming a MacGregor. She still wouldn't mind being a MacGregor,
but not at the expense of her dignity. She still wasn't sure if she was more happy or relieved that she hadn't followed through with her plans
to marry David. She was also glad she put her foot down and never slept with him. He told her she was being old-fashioned before he
stormed out. A week later, she caught him with another girl. When she broke off the engagement because of it, he told her to stop living in
the Middle Ages. Maybe she was old-fashioned by today's standards, but to her way of thinking one girlfriend at a time should be enough
for a guy. Especially when that girlfriend was his fiancée.
          Kris shook her head a bit when she realized her mind was wandering into the forbidden zone again. She was here to study and have
fun, not to think about her past mistakes. Besides, there were more important things to ponder. Such as that man staring at her from the
portrait.
          Bryan looked over her shoulder. "'Tis a fine rendering of the Laird, wouldn't you say?"
          "Oh, um, yes I suppose it is. Which Laird is it? I don't see any plaque."
          "Iain MacGregor, Laird of that clan from 1603 to 1604."
          "Iain MacGregor, huh?" The man had invaded her dreams since she'd agree to come to Scotland was a real person. At least now
she had a name to go with the face. She shivered. And not because of the sudden breeze that blew through the window. Dreaming about
the man was bad enough, knowing he actually lived, sent tingles down her spine.
          "Did something happen to him that he was only Laird for such a short time?" How tragic if he died so soon after becoming Laird.
          "'Tis unknown what became of him. Rumors abound about what actually happened to him. It seems he vanished during the early
summer of 1604."
          "Vanished?"
          "Aye," Mr. MacGregor nodded. "Legend has it that he'd fallen in love, found his mate. The lady of his heart, however, was said to
be a Campbell."
          "A mortal enemy of the MacGregor's in the 17th century."
          He gave her a knowing wink, "aye, Miss Campbell."
          "Lucky for us were not in the 17th century, anymore then, hmm?" She whispered in Gaelic.
          Bryan's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "I see you know a bit of our language. Ye are a wonder, lass."
          A chuckle escaped them both.
          "Please, continue with your tale. Tell me what happened?"
          "'Tis said he sent the lady away for her own safety as well as he is and that of his clan. They'd had enough troubles from the
Campbell's and did not wish to borrow more. Iain grew heartsick however, realizing he could not live without her. He rode away from the
Castle one day vowing not to return without her." His eyes met hers with a knowing look.
          Kris was torn between conflicting emotions of anticipation and dread. Disconcerted, she crossed her arms and looked away.
          Bryan continued, "'Tis said he was never seen or heard from again."
          Kris met his gaze for a moment then lowered it to stare at the floor. She could hear that voice from her dream, hard and cold.
"Where is she?"
          Had the Iain in her dreams been asking Kris about his lost love? Is that who he'd been trying to find? But why her? What she
supposed to know about it? Granted, she was a Campbell, but how was she supposed to know what became of a woman who had
disappeared more than four centuries ago? Heck, why did she have to be the on plagued by dreams of the guy in the first place?

Timeless Mist