“Where am I?” he asked. “Jock? Is that you?”
“Yes,” Jock said, sitting on the edge of the bed and taking his hand. “It is me.”
“What happened?”
Daisy squeezed Jock’s shoulder, unable to stop herself from grinning as she watched father and son being reunited.
“You fell ill but dinnae worry. You will be all right now. Everything is going to be all right now.”
“God save the king,” the parrot called out from his perch high above them. “And laird save the parrot.”
Chapter Sixteen
The meeting with the king had been rescheduled to allow time for the removal of the cook’s body.
Jock had felt control of the clan slipping through his fingers but for the first time in days that feeling was gone.
There were still some things that did not make sense but the meeting would hopefully resolve some of them. Once everyone was settled in place, Robin was going to be brought out of the dungeon to answer their questions.
That was going to happen later. He had an hour or so to spare. He had no desire to watch what happened to the cook. She had confessed and that was enough to spare her soul despite what she’d done. The true villain was he who had paid her to poison his parents.
“Are you all right?” Daisy asked, reaching out for his hand. “You still look troubled.”
They were sitting together in the empty tavern, the only place not filled with the king’s people. Everyone else was inside the castle, no doubt gossiping about all that had gone on in the last few hours.
“I should have known what was happening,” Jock replied. “Their decline was so swift and it came just after the cook was hired. Recommended by Robin. I should have worked it all out.”
“Don’t beat yourself up about this. You couldn’t possibly have known.”
“I should have guessed.”
She squeezed his hand and he looked up at her, managing a smile.
“It’s all right,” she said. “It’s all going to be fine now.”
“Because of you,” he said, taking her other hand and staring into her eyes. “And I haven’t even thanked you.”
“No need.”
“What can I do to repay you?”
“Let me cook for you?”
“Done.”
“I was kidding,” she said, looking surprised.
“I need a new cook and who better to trust with my parents than you?”
“You’re serious?”
He nodded. “Aye.”
“Then I suppose I better say goodbye to Tabby.” She got to her feet and walked over to the door of the tavern, sliding the silver key into the lock. “Let’s hope it’s not been another week since I went back. Want to come with me?”
“Aye” he said again, crossing the room to stand by her side.
She unlocked the door and walked through, coming out into the hallway she knew so well. Tabby was again in the living room.
“What happened to you?” she asked, looking up and seeing Daisy covered in ashes from where she’d dug into the hearth. “You’ve only been gone a minute.”
“I’ll never get the hang of this time travel thing,” Daisy replied, scratching her head. “I’ve come back, like I promised.”
Jock sat on the edge of the couch, occasionally prodding it, wondering what it was made from. Daisy and Tabby talked. He listened.
Daisy told her friend about the treasure, about finding it under the flagstone. “You said the book changed,” she said. “Has that bit changed?”
“There’s nothing in it about treasure at all. Are you sure you’re talking about the same book?”
Daisy nodded and then shook her head. “Never mind.” She went on to explain about the king and about the cook.”
“Well that’s great,” Tabby said. “You always wanted to cook medieval style. Now you get the chance.”
“You’re not mad at me for saying yes?”
“I wanted you to get a job, Daisy. Now you’ve got the perfect one. Why would I be mad?”
“Because I won’t be here with you.”
“You can come visit whenever you like.”
“I’m sorry,” Daisy said, starting to cry.
“What for?” Tabby asked, putting an arm around her. “What have you got to be sorry for?”
“For not believing you. I thought it was all rubbish, all that stuff you told me about time travel and keys and falling in love and I’m sorry. You were right.”
Tabby kissed her forehead. “All that matters is you’re happy.” She looked over to Jock. “Will you make her happy?”
“I will do everything in my power for the rest of my life to make her happy.”
“That’s good enough for me. Now you two better be off. The king will be waiting by the sounds of it.” Tabby stood up, shaking Jock by the hand and then throwing her arms around him. “I don’t see the attraction,” she said, stepping back. “Far too tall for me.”
The three of them walked into the hallway together. Daisy slid the key into the lock in the front door, turning to say a final goodbye. Jock stood by her side and waited until they were done.
Once the last embrace had been had, she unlocked the door and stepped through. He followed, nodding to Tabby as the door closed again.
“Look after her,” Tabby said, tossing a pen to Jock before the door was shut and she was gone.
Daisy turned to look at Jock. “How long do you think we were gone?”
He didn’t answer, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her to him. He leaned down, needing to kiss her. The world could wait.
At that moment a horn blew out in the courtyard.
“What was that?” she asked, glancing toward the window.
“The king’s horn,” he replied. “Are you ready?”
She nodded, squeezing his arm. “As I’ll ever be.”
He led the way downstairs to the great hall. The king and his guards had taken the top table on the dais. MacGregor men sat at the other tables.
It was as if the battle had never happened though many of the men bore signs of injuries, cuts that had only just healed, swollen eyes and chins aplenty. Daisy slipped into a gap at one of the lower tables, smiling at Jock as he went by.
The laird took the empty space beside the king just in time for Robin to be brought in. The financier looked pale after his night in the dungeon though his eyes still flashed in defiance.
He walked proudly, shoulders back, stopping only when the guards yanked him back. He looked like he’d been about to walk straight up to the top table to try and strangle Jock.
The guards flanked him as he stood before the king, his gaze fixed on the laird, not the king.
“This is a deed of assignation,” the king said, holding a piece of parchment into the air. “It has been put to me that you forged the laird’s signature and by means of dubious poisons did tempt Eddard MacGregor to sign over rights to the clans funds-”
“Get to the point,” Robin snapped. “I haven’t all day.”
“Very well,” the king replied. “Do you confess to duping Eddard MacGregor into signing this assignation?”
“He signed willingly.”
“Bring in Eddard.”
“What?” Robin sounded scared for the first time. He turned, looking over his shoulder as Eddard walked in, supported by Alan. “He’s supposed to be dead.”
“What makes you say that?” the king asked.
Eddard had walked halfway through the room by this point. He looked at Robin, taking another step. He squinted. “Where is Robin?”
“Right here, father,” Jock said. “Can you not see him before you?”
“I see a stranger. That is not the clan financier.”
“Of course it is,” the king said. “Who else could it be?”
“That is-” All the color drained from Eddard’s face. “You.” He marched forward and whipped the hair from Robin’s head, revealing a bald pate under the wig. “You’re back.”
He turned to the king. “It is the barefoot man.”
As the wig fell away, Jock gasped. The man’s face had changed in an instant. It no longer looked like Robin. How had his father seen it and he had not?
The barefoot man hissed, taking advantage of the confusion to shove the guards away from him. He pushed past Eddard, making it almost to the door before it was blocked.
He glanced left and right, grabbing hold of Daisy and pressing a hand to her throat. “Out my way,” he said. “Or I snap her neck.”
He darted forward before the guards had time to react, disappearing through the doorway with her in his arms.
Jock was hot on his heels, chasing the two of them out into the courtyard as the others followed. The barefoot man looked at the front gate of the castle but it was firmly locked. Cursing, he ran into the kitchen, dragging Daisy with him.
Jock made it inside before anyone else. He found the barefoot man by the hearth, scrabbling to dig up the flagstone.
“What are you doing?” Jock asked, skidding to a halt. Daisy ran to his side, hugging him tight. He held her with one hand, the other reaching for his sword.
“The tunnel,” the barefoot man said, pulling the flagstone free and tossing it aside as if it were tree bark. “Still there. I will see you both again.”
He was already jumping into the hole when Jock leaped forward, grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him back out.
The barefoot man fought like an animal, his hands clawing at Jock, his teeth suddenly sharper, gnashing at the air, trying desperately to get the laird to loosen his grip.
“The key,” Jock called over to Daisy, fighting to keep away from the barefoot man’s flailing limbs. “Do you still have it?”
“Right here,” she replied.
“Unlock that door.”
She did as he asked. The barefoot man seemed to know what was going to happen as his efforts took on a fresh urgency. Jock dragged him over to the door as Daisy pulled it open.
“Ready?” Jock asked.
“Ready.”
“No!” the barefoot man shrieked. “You cannot do this to me. It is my destiny.”
“Three, two, one.”
He hurled the barefoot man into the cupboard, sending him crashing into the tankards piled up inside.
The villain was up in a second but Daisy already had the door closed. He hurled himself against it and almost got it open. Only Jock’s tremendous strength bearing down on the wood kept it closed long enough for her to turn the key in the lock.
“No!” the barefoot man screamed inside, the word abruptly cut off rather than fading away.
There was no noise. Jock became aware of people behind him. The king and his men had caught up with them.
“Let him out,” the king said. “Unlock that door and I shall deal with him myself.”
Daisy unlocked the door and swung it open. The king dashed forward, sword in hand. He stopped dead, hands pressing on the walls inside the empty cupboard. “But he was there,” he said. “I saw him go in. Where is he?”
“He’s gone,” Jock replied. “That’s enough for me.”
The king left that night with his men. He had his money for his campaign and that was all he really cared about. One man vanishing was easy to forget when he had a war to fight.
Jock would earn a significant amount of interest for the loan but more importantly the monarch of the country now owed him a favor. That was a good position to be in when rival clans continued to squabble over territory every day of the week.
They had no idea where the barefoot man had gone. Somehow Jock knew the man would no longer be a problem for him or his clan.
Eddard was glad to see the back of the villain. For over an hour he told Jock and Daisy the story of what had happened when he was younger. They listened in silence. Daisy in particular was rapt.
“I saw him in a dream,” she said when he was done. “I never thought he could be real.”
“All too real,” Eddard said, getting to his feet. “Now I will leave you two and go kiss my wife. It has been too long since I did that.”
He hugged Daisy before turning to his son. “You have done well, my boy.”
Jock nodded and then watched him leave. Finally they were alone in the great hall.
“It has been quite the day,” Daisy said, yawning loudly. “All this time travel makes one rather tired, don’t you think?” She stretched her arms out and as she did so, he swept her onto his lap. She squealed and then laughed. “What are you doing?”
“Finishing what I started earlier,” he replied, pressing his lips to hers. He kissed her then, breathing in her essence as she melted in his arms.
It was a long time before they parted and when they did it was only for a brief moment. Just long enough for him to say, “I love you,” before he leaned in to kiss her again.
“I love you too,” she replied, her eyes closing.
Jock embraced her, their souls mingling, to be bonded together for all time as he finally began to unlock the key to her heart.
Epilogue
Daisy’s feet hurt, her arms ached, and she was covered in flour.
She couldn’t have been happier.
The kitchen at MacGregor Castle had taken some getting used to. It was still hard to walk past the spot where the previous cook had died without thinking about her.
Jock had assured her that was normal. They had talked about it several times. She had come from a world where death was unusual. A world where, when it did happen, it often took place out of sight, easy to ignore.
Jock’s world was different. Already, she knew that. She had been living here for six months and she’d seen several deaths in that time. Some were of simple old age but then there were the falls from the battlements, the diseases carried in the water, even childbirth was more dangerous.
Still, she thought, as she kneaded the dough across the long table, she wouldn’t change it for the world. For each negative, there were countless positives, not least of which was getting to live with Jock MacGregor.
She smiled as she thought about their first meeting, how she’d been so sure he was just an eccentric laird who didn’t care for modern things. How little she had known then.
He was still obsessed with pens. The collection in his bedchamber was used every day, Not that she got to see inside there much anymore.
Since she had settled here, she had been given her own room. It was her decision as much as Jock’s. She had seen how much people were talking about the two of them.
After what had happened to the clan, it was slowly coming back together. She didn’t want to do anything to risk damaging the slow recovery of the people.
So she waited, hoping that one day Jock would do the honorable thing. It might be a dream of course but it was a good dream.
She refused to think about what would happen if he never asked her to marry him.
It was enough to think of the few stolen kisses they managed, the couple of times they had been able to sneak away from the castle together, riding out to the house that was once Robin’s. She had wondered what would happen when they got there the first time but neither of them expected to save a life.
She paused in her kneading, thinking of that day. What would have happened if they hadn’t gone out there? The place had been left empty since the barefoot man had gone. Weeds grew up around the base of the stonework, ivy starting to crawl higher.
“What will become of this?” Daisy asked.
Before Jock could answer she heard something. He heard it at the same time. “What was that?”
The two of them listened. A faint thud, coming from inside. They pushed open the door and listened again. The sound was still faint but nearer. It took a few minutes to pinpoint it. When they did they made their way downstairs into the cellar.
“It’s behind here,” Jock said, pulling at the door. It was locked but one yank of his arm and it ripped free, falling to the floor. Behind it was a dark corridor and from the end th
e noise grew louder. “Help!”
Jock ran down into the darkness, Daisy squinting after him. There was a crash as another door was broken through and then Jock was dragging a prone figure out. He lay him down in the cellar, wiping dust from the man’s eyes.
“Robin?” he said, pushing hair from the prone figure’s forehead. “Is that you?”
Daisy realized the dough had been ignored too long and recommenced kneading. The financier was now safe.
His house had been finished for him, a crumb of comfort for the months he had been trapped in the darkness of the cellar’s hidden compartment, surviving on insects and the water that ran down the walls.
It wasn’t hard to work out what had happened. Robin spoke of the day he had gone home to find a bald barefoot man in his house. The financier had gone home one person and returned to the castle another.
Robin was given back his position and soon had the clan finances back in shape, even with the loan to the king taken into account. As Edward said, he had always been a master of money.
The smell of baking bread soon filled the kitchen. Once it was finished, Daisy added it to the tray of gingerbread, taking both into the keep, crunching through the snow in the courtyard, and then heading up the stairs to the top floor.
Morag and Eddard were deep in the middle of a game of chess when she entered. “I will win in three,” Eddard said, not noticing Daisy’s arrival.
“You were saying,” Morag replied, sliding her queen forward, knocking over his king before leaning back and laughing, her lapdog waking up at the disturbance but soon settling again. “Lady takes laird, how apt. Women can be more powerful than you think.” She turned and winked at Daisy who smiled back.
It was good to see the two of them like this. Their recovery had been swifter than their decline. Once they were eating unadulterated food, the clouds that fogged their minds drifted away.
The two of them were far sharper than Daisy would ever have guessed, especially Morag who was always hungry to hear stories from the future.
“Daisy,” Morag said, seeing her standing with the tray. “Will you join me for a game?”
“I was hoping Jock would be up here. I’ve not seen him all morning.”
The Key to Her Heart: A Time Travel Romance Page 13