The Highlander's Time

Entering his chamber, he came to a dead stop. “What the...?”
    “Milord?” Kevin sounded just as stunned.
    He blinked at the sight of three women struggling to untangle themselves from his linens and each other. Striding to the side of the bed, he freed them in a snap of his quilt. He handed the comforter to Kevin before he lifted the women out, one at a time. “Who are you, and what do you here?”
    His anger inched up when they stared at him dumbfounded, then gaped at each other. When they began arguing in a language he didnae understand, he shouted, “Enough.”
    Glaring each of them into silence, he took them in. Prostitutes? If their indecent clothing was an indication, he'd guess they were. The redhead, who in his estimation was younger than the other two, carried the shorn-haired head of a whore. Mayhap they had come to the Highland to escape scrutiny. To the wilds where their occupation didnae make a difference.
    That they were in the castle did.
    Determined to get to the bottom of their mysterious appearance, Iaen needed a learned man. One who spoke the language of court and the language of the Church. “Kevin, fetch Father Thomas to the Great Hall.”
    “Aye, milord.”
    He could only imagine the priest's reaction to his request. After all, Father Thomas didnae serve his ecumenical needs, but those of the clan. Iaen rarely attended mass. If he did, 'twas to ask God to grant him victory against an enemy.
    He marched the lot of them out of his bedchamber. Catching the blonde when she stumbled, he cringed away from the pungent scent of alcohol rolling off her clothes. It didnae take him long to see she'd never be able to negotiate the stairs on her own. Looking over the brunette first, she appeared irritated with him. Be careful, lass. I'm not a man to trifle with . The other wore an expression akin to that of a mouse in the fateful moment before a hawk grasped it in its deadly talons. I don't have time to chase you hither and yon . “Malcolm, assist her.”
    “Oh,” the blonde moaned.
    Iaen moved out of the way, pulling the two sober women with him a split instance before the blonde vomited all over the front of Malcolm's plaid. “Elspeth,” Iaen shouted.
    He recognized the signs of a woman who didnae know when to let off the jug. Her sallow skin and shaking hands only lent credence to his opinion. When she started to retch again, he moved the two sober women down the stairs. “Nay, you let her be,” he ordered the brunette when she struggled against the hand he’d clamped on her elbow. His barked command didnae stop her from trying to escape his grip. “You will do as you are told.”
    Why are you bothering? She donnae understand you. Even if she didnae, his tone should have told her plainly to calm.
    Seeing Elspeth standing in the middle of the hall, he pursed his lips into a thin line. “Tea and lots of it.”
    “Aye, milord.” He heard his cook call.

Chapter Two

    Could someone show me to the closest exit out of this nightmare?

    “Let go of me!” Jenny struggled to free herself from his vice-like grip. Furious with him for his lack of compassion to Lila, she tugged with all her might. Irate at herself for not thinking faster on her feet in the office, she slapped his arm. “Ow.”
    Talk about rock-hard muscle . If she wasn't so pissed, she'd love to run her hands over his skin. Nah, he's more Lila's type. Well, that was yet to be determined. He doesn't look like the type to party all night long and pray to the porcelain god once the sun comes up.
    She met his glare while she shook the sting from her hand. “Charlzie, are you okay over there?”
    “I think so.” Tears clung to Charlzie's words. “Do you think this is a dream? That we were somehow sucked into Lila's drunken hallucination.”
    Rejecting the latter straight off, Jenny tried to wrap her brain around the situation. “I don't know what is going on.” How did you test a dream when you were consumed in it? “On my count, pinch yourself.”
    It was the stupidest idea she'd ever thought of. “Never mind.” She wracked her brain for a way. Back when she was a kid and she had nightmares about her mother's impending death, her father would tell her to put him in the dream. Even though he couldn't rescue her mom, he could give her comfort in her dream. “Tell yourself to wake up.”
    “Come on, Charlzie, wake up. Time to rise and shine.”
    Listening to Charlzie chant those two lines, Jenny imagined her dad walking