Free My Seductive Highlander by Maeve Greyson

been verra healthy. Look how clear their piss be.”
    “What’s that silver handle for?” Angus tapped a finger atop another white porcelain bowl, this one waist high and built into a cabinet with silver knobs and spouts to boot.
    “I dinna ken.” Graham thumped the cool bit of metal behind the oversized chamber pot with one finger. Nothing happened.
    “Hit it harder.” Angus nodded toward the porcelain bowl in the floor. “It wiggled a wee bit. I think ye need ta hit it harder.”
    “Harder, ye say?” Graham squatted down beside the bowl, studying the silver handle from every angle. He hooked two fingers atop the metal piece and pushed down hard.
    The huge chamber pot came to life. Water whooshed and gurgled, swirling in a tempest until it disappeared with a hollow
glug glug glug
. Graham quickly rose and stepped back. “God a’mighty. Did ye see that?”
    “Aye,” Angus replied, his voice filled with awe. “And look. The water returns. It rises as we speak.”
    Graham leaned over the pot, watching the slowly rising water. “Amazing.”
    “I’m no’ pissin’ in that thing.” Angus hiked up his kilt, stood on tiptoes, and leaned over the waist-high porcelain bowl built into the cabinet. “I’ll piss here—looks t’be much safer.”
    “I dinna blame ye, lad.” Graham clapped a hand to Angus’s shoulder. Any magic that sucked away water with such a fury could verra well be a danger to a man’s cock.
    The thumping of footsteps overhead and down the stairway caught Graham’s attention. He left Angus to his business, squeezing behind the man to step back out into the hallway. Strange place, this future. ’Twould take him a lifetime to discover all that had changed.
    Hair disheveled and still buttoning his shirt, Alberti emerged from the stairwell. “Good morning, Graham. You’re up bright and early today.” He padded barefoot down the hallway, motioning for Graham to follow. “Come with me, my good man. I’ll have a spot of coffee ready in no time. Or do you prefer tea?” Alberti turned, one dark brow arched, waiting for Graham’s response.
    “Ale, if ye dinna mind.” He had no idea what coffee was and the only time a man drank tea was when he was ailin’. Graham squared his shoulders and lifted his chin. Surely the man didna think he looked unwell.
    Alberti frowned as he finished buttoning his shirt and yanked it wrinkle free. “Ale? Hmm…I’ll see what I can find.” He disappeared through a strange door that swung back and forth as though toyed with by spirits.
    Graham followed. Raising a hesitant hand to the strange door, he gritted his teeth and pushed through it. The door swung back and thumped his arse once he walked through. He glared back at the door, waiting for another attack of the wicked spirits. The door calmly settled in place. His fists relaxed at his sides.
Aye. Just as well
. Alberti had been a kind host. ’Twould be a shame to destroy a part of his home.
    Alberti hurried past him, pulled open the swinging door, and thumped down a strange-looking leg at its base that propped it open. “There now. As soon as Angus gets out of the loo, he’ll be able to hear us here in the kitchen. I do hope the man is not unwell. I couldn’t help but notice the toilet keeps flushing.”
    The toilet keeps flushing.
Recognition dawned. Graham stuck his head back into the hallway and bellowed, “Angus! Leave the wee chamber pot alone and get yer arse out here.”
    Angus emerged, his face lit with amusement. “That there garderobe is damn fine. The spring running through the chamber pot carries away whate’er ye put in it.”
    “Oh dear Lord. Pray, what did you put in it?” Alberti rushed down the hallway, stopped at the bathroom door, then sagged against the door facing. “Thank heavens. It’s not clogged and overflowing.”
    “I merely spat in it.” Angus shrugged then wiggled a finger round and round. “ ’Tis like a whirlpool in the ocean. Everything goes round and round