Highlander's Desire: A Scottish Historical Time Travel Romance (Called by a Highlander Book 5)

by Mariah Stone

  “Sure. Yeah, you don’t look well, hun. Go lie down. Eat something.”

  Rogene took her purse and walked out of the office. Outside, the warm summer air calmed her down a little. All this was strange, but she shouldn’t jump to conclusions before she knew and was sure. She hadn’t felt well since she’d come back, and her nipples were hurting like crazy.

  What if this was another indication she was pregnant?

  First things first, she needed to buy a home pregnancy test. Maybe a dozen, just to be sure. As she sat on her bike and rode to a drug store, she wondered if it wouldn’t harm the baby that she rode a bike? And what about last week when she’d had a couple of glasses of wine to celebrate her graduation?

  And the junk food she’d eaten. She didn’t take any vitamins; she should start…

  On weak legs, she went into the drug store and bought a heap of pregnancy tests from different brands. When she got home, David was in the second bedroom, having an interview for college via Skype. She heard him talk and the other voice, computerized.

  Thank God she didn’t have to explain anything to him. She went right into the bathroom and quickly read the instructions. Pee on the stick, not rocket science. She did the deed and put the test on the vanity to wait for a couple of minutes. She set the timer on her clock and fired up her email program to click on the links that Anusua had sent.

  She opened the images of the scanned documents and zoomed in, studying every letter, every detail, and every hook of the calligraphy. There was even a scratched part, just like when she’d made a blot and had to scratch away the upper layer of the parchment.

  And then the inscription was in English. Modern English! Did she write this message to herself to go back in time? What other explanation was there?

  Be with Angus. Marry her soul mate, the man of her destiny. The man she loved.

  The timer went off, the beeping echoing off the tile walls of the bathroom. She looked at the test, and she could already see.

  Two lines.

  With a shaking hand, she picked it up and studied it. The second line was weaker than the first one, but it was there. She looked again at the package. One line—not pregnant. Two lines—pregnant.

  Joy spilled within her in a sweet burst of sunshine. She put her hand over her lower belly. Was he there, her son? Paul Mackenzie?

  Was her life about to change again?

  She had to be sure. With a tremor in her fingers, she unwrapped another test and peed a few drops on it. Her bladder was empty. She had to drink more water to do more tests. But as a couple of minutes passed and a smiley face appeared on the screen, she knew the surest way to know was to make an appointment with a doctor. She needed to read all the books about pregnancy. She needed to start taking vitamins. She had to double-check the date of the wedding…

  July 14.

  A week from today, in 1310.

  A week!

  If she was going to go back in time, it had to be before the wedding.

  But what should she do about David?

  She left the bathroom and went into the kitchen, making herself a cup of tea. She needed to breathe, calm down, and assess the situation as she always had—with a cool mind.

  She knew she had to discuss it with David. She had no answers as what to do with him, but he was the most important part of her life, and she wouldn’t go back in time without knowing he was okay and taken care of.

  But what that would look like, she had no idea.

  Chapter 34

  July 9, 2021

  Clutching the plastic bag full of nine months’ worth of prenatal vitamins, Rogene opened the door of her apartment. In her bag was an early ultrasound showing a small, gray pear surrounded by a big black bubble.

  Her and Angus’s baby.

  It was still too early to tell if it was a boy or a girl, and she kept asking herself if it was him—Paul.

  Hard rock music blasted from David’s closed room, and Rogene knew right away that something was wrong. He listened to it only when he was struggling with his studies or he’d made a mistake because of his dyslexia.

  With a sinking heart, she knocked on the door. She had an idea of how to take care of him, but she was terrified of letting go of him, of letting him out from under her wing.

  Besides, she still wasn’t sure going back to the past was the best plan. She had no idea why she would call herself Euphemia of Ross to marry Angus. That didn’t make any sense.

  And that note—yes, it was written in modern English, but perhaps someone else had added that later? And it did seem to her that Anusua’s suggestion was right—it sounded more like a joke, more like a “Peter was here” sort of message than anything that was meant to be read as a command.

  But there were only five days left before the wedding in 1310. So if she did, by some miracle, decide she could go, if she could find the strength and trust and confidence in herself and in David, and forgive herself for leaving him, she needed to return to 1310 like right now.

  She opened the door a slit and peered in. He lay on his bed with his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling. The music blasted from a speaker on his desk.

  “Hey!” Rogene cried over the music.

  David looked up, touched a button on his phone, and music grew quieter. “Hey, what are you doing home so early?”

  “I had an appointment,” she said, walking into the room.

  She was still nauseated and a little dizzy, so she sat down on his bed.

  “Is everything okay?” she asked.

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “The music.”

  David’s face was impossible to read. She never knew whether he was in a bad or a good mood. Without saying anything, David picked up an envelope and handed it to her.

  Northwestern.

  With shaking hands, she took it.

  “It’s not opened,” she said.

  “Your ability to notice things is uncanny.”

  She chuckled. “Is that why you were playing the music? Are you worried?”

  He shrugged, but his eyes were on the envelope, burning holes in it.

  “You know that even if you don’t get the scholarship, you can still get into Northwestern. I can pay your tuition.”

  He kept staring at the envelope.

  “Shall I open it?” Rogene said.

  She took a deep breath. Not only would this decide his future, but hers, too.

  “If you please, my lady,” he said.

  Ever since she’d told him about time travel, he’d been good-naturedly teasing her with such titles. But even so, she had found him watching YouTube videos about the Wars of Scottish Independence and documentaries about medieval Scotland. He’d even asked her a couple of questions, like what did people really eat, and how the toilets were, as though he was testing to see if she’d told the truth or not.

  She ignored his gentle teasing, tore the short edge of the envelope, and took out the letter.

  “‘Dear David,’” she read. “‘We are pleased to inform you—’”

  She cried and jumped to her feet, hugging him. Her brother roared and hugged her back with such force that she feared her ribs would crack. He lifted her off her feet and spun her around.

  When he put her down, he pumped his fist in the air. “I got it! Yeah!”

  Rogene felt the tears stream down her face. They both knew what this meant. Despite his struggles with dyslexia, he’d gotten a scholarship into one of the best universities in the world.

  Which meant, he’d be taken care of financially. And he was now eighteen.

  Which meant…

  If she trusted herself, and him, and really talked to him about this…maybe she could go.

  She hugged him again. “Well, let’s celebrate with ice cream!”

  Though the thought of ice cream made her sick again.

  “Not ice cream,” he said. “I’m not a kid anymore.”

  “Okay, how do you want to celebrate?”

  “How about tha
t good scotch you have in one of the cabinets?”

  “No way, mister,” she said. “Not on my watch. Not for three more years.”

  “Drinking age is eighteen here.”

  “I don’t care.”

  He sighed, but his eyes sparkled. He gave her a carefree grin—a rare sight, and one that made him look even more like Dad…

  She wiped a sudden tear. “How about a good old steak dinner? I’ll take you out tonight.”

  “Can I have a beer then?”

  “No.”

  “Ugh.” He sat on the chair, dwarfing it with his large frame. “As if I haven’t tried alcohol before.”

  “I won’t enable you. And don’t roll your eyes. Look, David, I need to talk to you about something.”

  She sat on his bed and leaned on her elbows. She wanted to take his hand in hers, but she knew he’d be uncomfortable.

  “I’m pregnant.”

  He frowned, looked her up and down, then his eyes widened in horror. “What? By who?”

  “By Angus Mackenzie.”

  He shook his head, wincing, as though he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “The guy you said you traveled in time to?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Ha-ha. Funny. Nice prank.”

  “I’m not kidding, David. Just listen to me.”

  Under his skeptical gaze, she told him about the new inscription in the church registry, the changed wedding date, the fact that there were other documents that said that Euphemia was in Ross while Euphemia was also in Eilean Donan, giving birth to Paul Mackenzie. She showed him Paul’s birth registry and the letter from the doctor stating her estimated delivery date.

  He stared at the screen of her phone with the “He is not marrying her. He is marrying you” message written in modern English in bad calligraphy.

  He lifted his gaze from the phone and looked at her with concern. “Do you hear how you sound? It’s clear you were raped and drugged and abused and now you’re pregnant by the freaking monster! You need to call the police.”

  She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I know it sounds insane. But I…I want to talk to you about this. I want to go back, David.”

  “Go back where? To the rapist?”

  She sighed. “Back in time. I think it’s me who’s marrying Angus. Not Euphemia. And I think I’m carrying Paul Mackenzie. Not her.”

  He stared at her like she were clinically insane. “Fucking hell.”

  “Don’t swear,” she said through gathering tears. “You got the scholarship. You’re eighteen. I…I also got the news that the university press wants to publish my thesis as a book, and they offered me an advance of ten thousand pounds, which I’ll transfer to you, so you’ll have some money and won’t have to depend on anyone.”

  He shook his head. “You’re not serious.”

  Tears were streaming down her face now. “I am.” She stood up. “I didn’t expect you to believe me right away, I do know it sounds completely nuts. But I did hope you’d give me the benefit of the doubt.”

  He jumped to his feet. “I don’t care about money or anything else! I just want to protect you from whoever did this to you. I’ll fucking kill the guy!”

  “Stop swearing.”

  “Stop talking about leaving, about going back to the guy who hurt you!”

  She looked at her hands, which were blurry from tears. “He never hurt me. He saved me. I-I’m sorry to be leaving you again. I left you with our aunt and uncle when I went to England. And now this… But I need to go.”

  “Okay, if you don’t call the police, I will.”

  “Call the police all you want,” she said as she walked to the door. “I’m going.”

  Chapter 35

  Oxford, July 13, 2021

  It took Rogene four days to sign the book deal and to get the lawyer to transfer all royalties and the advance to David—record time. Being of age now, he didn’t need to be left under the protection of a legal guardian or social services.

  So Rogene knew he didn’t technically need her, other than she was the only close family he had left.

  And he hers.

  But she knew she needed to live her own life. She couldn’t control David, his opinions, and his decisions. She couldn’t shield him from everything, and he no longer needed her protection. With a scholarship to Northwestern, he could now start a new, exciting life on his own.

  Since she’d told him she was leaving, they’d barely talked other than that he continued trying to get her to go the police. He stared at her with concern as she packed the bag of necessities she’d take with her to the fourteenth century. Vitamins. Antibiotics—different kinds for different bacteria. Clothes for the baby. Warm socks. Shoes! Good, sturdy, warm shoes. Books… Damn, she couldn’t take many, and they were heavy, so she settled on a children’s book, a book on biology and the basics of medicine, one on herbalism, and one on the basics of engineering.

  All the paperwork had been done superfast. She’d even prepared a will and left everything to David. But she hadn’t told him that. She’d also left a suicide note. Her death would probably be easier for the police to accept and David would get his inheritance faster.

  She realized those thoughts were cold and calculating, but, she supposed, that was her historian’s mind.

  It was afternoon the day before the wedding when she felt like she was ready. She had her backpack on her shoulders, and the most authentic medieval costume she could find online was in the small messenger bag that she wore across her body.

  She had about ten hours of driving ahead of her. She’d probably need to stop for a few hours and nap, but she had no more time to waste.

  Four days was as fast as she could get all the legal stuff done. If she was going to stop the wedding, she had to do it as soon as possible.

  She opened the apartment door to walk out into the hall and looked back at David’s closed door. There was no music. And she thought she’d said everything there was to say. He didn’t believe her. She didn’t blame him. But she wished this all was different.

  Knowing she’d never see him again, she at least had to say goodbye.

  “David,” she said, half turned to the door, “I’m going.”

  The door flew open. He stared at her, his broad shoulders tight, lips pursed in a fierce line and shook his head.

  “I love you,” she said. “Will you hug me?”

  “No. I’m not saying goodbye because you’re not going.”

  Another blow to her gut. “I love you. Remember that.”

  She turned and started down the stairs when she heard steps behind her.

  “Come on, Rogene, don’t leave,” he said as he climbed down the stairs with her. “Let me help you. We’ll find a shrink. You probably have PTSD.”

  “I don’t have PTSD. And I need to hurry.”

  “If you think I’m going to let you go to some sort of a sick psycho, think twice.”

  They were now outside the building and walking towards the tiny car she’d rented. She opened the trunk and threw her backpack in.

  When she closed it and walked to the driver’s door, David was blocking it. “Rory!” he said helplessly.

  “Move,” she said. “I’m not kidding.”

  They stared at each other in that familiar siblings contest she’d always won. She did, again, and David sighed and stepped to the side, letting her open the door.

  “Bye, David,” she said with a sinking heart.

  She closed the door and started the car, but before she could press on the pedal, David opened the passenger door and flopped onto the seat next to her.

  “Let me at least make sure you’re safe,” he said.

  Something warmed in her heart, and tears blurred her vision. She was so hormonal and emotional, damn her. “Okay. Thank you,” she said.

  He nodded and looked in front of him. She tapped the address into the GPS and drove.

  After hours of driving, they stopped for dinner, then for a coffee at midnight, after which Davi
d told her he’d drive and she could rest.

  He stopped to rest during the night, too, and they arrived at the castle in the early morning. They were the first in line for tickets to visit the castle. She bought two tickets and they went inside.

  When there were no museum workers around, she sneaked past the rope blocking the stairway to the underground rooms, and David followed her. She had no idea if this would work. Would Sìneag even come? Would the rock work again?

  “Where are you going?” he asked.

  “To the rock.”

  “I must be out of my goddamn mind to go along with this,” he mumbled.

  When she opened the door to the cave-like room with the rock, her heart beat in her chest like a drum. Was she too late? Was the wedding already happening?

  Oh God! What if the rock didn’t work?

  She stood before the pile of rocks, in the middle of which was the one with the carving and the hand. David frowned at it. “So it does exist…” he said thoughtfully.

  “It does.”

  He looked around. “And where’s the guy?”

  “Back in time. Through the rock.”

  The scent of lavender and freshly cut grass reached her nostrils. Sìneag?

  Rogene’s palms broke out in cold sweat. David squinted in the dim light, looking around. Then Rogene blinked, and Sìneag appeared. David jumped back a little. Rogene beamed.

  “Whoa!” David cried. “Who the hell are you?”

  Sìneag studied him with wide eyes and the curiosity of a child.

  “I’m Sìneag,” she said. “And who are ye, young and handsome man?”

  “My brother,” Rogene said.

  “Oh!” Sìneag beamed. “Right! Is he coming with ye?”

  Rogene’s smile fell. “What? No, of course not.”

  Sìneag cocked her head with a mysterious smile. “Well…”

  “No!” Rogene exclaimed. She thought of all the dangers, and bloodshed, and sickness, and cold, and she didn’t want him to go there.

  Sìneag kept smiling and staring at David.