by Lynn Kurland
“If I leave you alive to do so,” Kendrick said with a yawn.
Zachary sighed lightly, then looked at Mary again. “I think Franbury might think you resemble the woman in that sketch, but he’ll have no signature now to connect either you or me to the past. We’ll be safe enough. But I’m not sure Gideon’s gatekeeper will be if I don’t rescue her. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go make certain of it.”
Mary waved him on to his business. He walked over to the guard chamber to no doubt try to stem the tide of books rushing out onto the cobblestones. He was soon joined by Gideon, who protested loudly the destruction of his father’s property.
“This should be interesting,” Kendrick murmured.
She looked up at her brother. “Just so you know: if he hadn’t returned, I would have gone after him.”
He pursed his lips and refrained from comment.
“And if you hurt him today, I will repay you for it.”
“You might try.”
She pointed up the way. “Remember who I now have in the stables and how badly it pained you the last time he pitched you onto your sorry arse. He’ll do that again, then he’ll trample you because I’ll tell him to.”
Kendrick shifted uncomfortably. “Very well, I’ll leave something of your love. And I’ll do you the favor of telling you what that fool Franbury is now shouting, though I imagine you can guess well enough without my aid.”
He had that aright. Franbury came rushing out of the guard chamber suddenly, his hands wrapped around his head to protect it, bellowing things she was sure were curses.
The granny who apparently kept watch over her domain was clouting him with some sort of heavy purse. Mary watched in astonishment as she then plucked a long stick out of that purse and brandished it.
“A Future weapon?” she whispered to her brother.
“Knitting needle. She’s obviously been pushed a bit too far.” He smiled for a bit longer, then his smile faded. He ceased with any pretense of not caring about the outcome of what was transpiring in front of them.
She had no less interest in it. Franbury had managed to escape the granny with her needle and had now turned on Zachary, shouting until his face was a most unattractive shade of red. Zachary only stood there with his arms folded over his chest, apparently waiting for Franbury to shout himself out. The whole scene reminded her sharply of that morning with Styrr in her father’s courtyard.
Kendrick looked back over his shoulder suddenly, then snorted.
“Cameras. Unsurprising.”
“What?” She looked behind her to find a man standing there with a black box of sorts on his shoulder.
“’Tis a video camera. It captures what you see in front of you, then replays it for later consumption. Truly one of modern man’s most marvelous inventions. I can’t imagine our good viscount is going to be pleased at having his antics so captured, though.”
Indeed Franbury was not. He realized he was being watched and shouted at the man now standing next to her to cease with what he was doing. Once the man lowered his box, Franbury swung at Zachary. Zachary only ducked and left the viscount stumbling from having overbalanced himself. Franbury straightened and spat out a slew of things Mary was certain weren’t complimentary.
He then turned on Gideon, whose expression would have caused a lesser man—or a more intelligent one, perhaps—to take a step backward.
“My nephew,” Kendrick said proudly, elbowing her in the ribs. “I taught him that look.”
“I imagine you did.”
Franbury and Gideon spoke for several minutes, though she supposed it couldn’t have been called a conversation. Franbury shouted and Gideon simply stood there, now wearing a look of utter contempt.
“Franbury’s convinced Gideon has changed the guidebooks,” Kendrick said with a smirk. “He can’t quite remember what it was about them that intrigued him so before, but he knows there was something important because he’s brought a bloody cameraman to document it. He’s certain we’re hiding something inside the keep.”
“Gideon won’t allow him inside, will he?”
Kendrick shrugged casually. “If he thinks it will occupy Franbury’s time well, I suppose he might. I understand that there are several keeps scattered throughout England which boast paranormal elements that a man such as Michael Smythe-Gordon might find interesting. Not that I would know anything about that, of course.”
Mary smiled before she could stop herself. “I daresay you have quite a few things going on at Seakirk, as it has always been a dodgy place. But Artane?”
“One never knows. We’ll have to see what turns up in the next hour or so. Don’t go throw yourself at that lad over there in the meantime, though, until I’ve finished with him.”
She handed him his sword instead of clouting him over the head with it because she was her father’s daughter and she knew the value of steel. And she would most certainly throw herself at her love—but perhaps later, when he wouldn’t yawn his way through it. She watched him talking to Gideon, then looked up at her brother, who resembled her father so much it was startling, and felt her heart ache a bit. She sighed and slipped her arm through his.
“I saw Father this morning,” she said quietly.
His look of shock was almost rewarding enough to ease her slightly.
“You jest,” he said faintly.
She shook her head slowly. “Zachary was in the middle of that doorway through time and Father was on the other side.” She paused. “I wish he could have seen you, to know you are well and happy.”
Kendrick took a deep breath. “He knows.”
“How?” she asked in surprise.
“Jake told him.”
“Jake?” she echoed. “Our uncle Jake? And how would he know to do that?”
“Because I told him to when I saw him a pair of years ago here in the Future.”
She leaned heavily on him. “I need a nap.”
“Not with that lad over there you don’t.”
“Kendrick, leave him be. He’s had enough for one day.”
“Not if he wants you, he hasn’t.”
She started to remind her brother of the equine danger he would face if he pushed her too far, but he took a figurative step backward before she could.
“Very well,” he conceded. “I’ll allow him a brief rest.”
“I’ll oversee his taking of it myself.”
“Mary!”
She walked away, smiling, because she couldn’t keep herself from it. Her love and her brother in the same century. It was truly so much more than she’d dared hope for and so much more than she deserved.
Zachary was standing on the path in front of her, listening to Gideon with half an ear, but watching her. She thought of all the times she had watched him in her father’s time, wishing that things would be different and she might have him in truth.
Zachary turned, leaving Gideon standing there, still talking. He met her halfway, then opened his arms.
She walked into his embrace, put her arms around him, and closed her eyes. She wished, briefly, that she’d known about her aunt Jennifer—or apparently her uncle Jake, for that matter—so she might have asked them how they had made such wonderful lives in times not their own, then she decided they had likely known what she had discovered.
Someone to love made all the difference.
Chapter 31
Z achary held Mary not nearly as long as he would have liked, though likely far longer than her brother wanted him to. He looked over her head to find Kendrick standing ten feet away, patting his sword meaningfully.
“Mary?”
“Hmmm?”
“I think your brother has plans.”
“You should have some, too,” she advised, “and they should include killing him quickly to rid us of the annoyance of his presence. Please.”
He laughed briefly. “I think you would miss him, so I’ll forbear. I also imagine we could escape not only him, but this entire collection of in-laws and fut
ure in-laws if we tried hard enough. Let me finish up here, satisfy your brother briefly, then we’ll attempt it.”
She released him as reluctantly as he could have wished for, then handed his sword to Gideon and helped him gather up the rest of the guidebooks. He carried them all back into the ticket booth and stacked them for Mrs. Gladstone.
She of the voracious till was sitting in her padded chair busily picking up dropped stitches. She glanced up at him. “That bloke fair ruined me Fair Isle work and I will not forget the insult.”
“I’m sure Lord Gideon will see him appropriately chastised,” Zachary offered.
Mrs. Gladstone pursed her lips. “I certainly hope so.” She glanced out her window. “I see the Earl of Seakirk has a sword. And so do ye, apparently. Going to use them soon?”
Zachary laughed a little uneasily. “Mrs. Gladstone, why would you think that?”
“Lad, you live in the north long enough and you see it all.” She looked over her bifocals at him. “I’d charge ye the normal entrance, but I note ye’ve no pockets.”
“I’ll pay double the next time.”
“See that ye do.” She pulled a teal blue metal four-millimeter out of her bun and pointed it at him. “Ye don’t want to meet this in the dark, I daresay.”
Zachary nodded gravely, left Mrs. Gladstone to her Fair Isle, then walked up the way with Mary, collecting a following as he did so. It felt slightly surreal to find himself in the company of medieval men and one very lovely woman who were all dressed in jeans while he was the only one dressed in medieval gear and possessing a birthdate that fell within the past hundred years.
So much for no more paranormal activities.
He paused at the edge of what had once been Artane’s lists and was now a wide swath of green grass and looked first at Jamie and Cameron.
“Why are you here?”
“We came this morning,” Jamie said with a bored look, “just to see what Lord Gideon had on the fire.”
“Don’t listen to him,” Cameron said dryly. “He was actually worried enough about you that he forced me to fly him down before breakfast.”
“How did you know anything at all?” Zachary asked in surprise.
“Gideon called him last night,” Cameron said. “Apparently he thought you’d gone off rashly.”
“Can you blame me?” Zachary asked. “Leave it to Franbury to find what he shouldn’t.”
Jamie laughed briefly. “Zach, what does that lad have against you?”
“Zinnias,” Zachary said distinctly, “but don’t make me give you the details now. I’m not sure how far Franbury’s been digging. I think he got lucky with the guidebook, but now he has nothing more to go on.”
“Just vague impressions of memories that were there yesterday but are there no longer,” Jamie said in satisfaction. “I’m going to go home and make further study of this phenomenon.” He paused. “It might require quite a bit of research to do properly.”
Zachary winced. His poor sister.
“But for now, let us leave the fool to his speculations,” Jamie said. “He won’t find anything here and we’ll make certain he finds nothing anywhere else. Now we have a morning of fine sport to look forward to. Lady Mary, shall we go find ourselves a seat where we might be comfortable whilst watching the spectacle? I taught Zachary everything he knows about swords, you know. Anything underhanded he knows he learned from my brother, who is not the purist I am.”
“Tell me more,” Mary asked, walking off with Jamie and looking more interested than she should have. “My father was a swordsman, you know.”
“I’ve heard tell of his prowess. One of my sincerest regrets is that I have not encountered him.”
Zachary watched Jamie and Mary walk off, then he looked at Cameron. “Yet.”
Cameron shook his head and smiled. “No century is safe, no lists are sacred.”
“Heaven help Robin of Artane.”
“I imagine he’ll agree, in time.” Cameron studied him. “You look exhausted. Sleep any last night?”
Zachary shook his head. “I was too busy hobnobbing with medieval legends. I’ll sleep later.”
“If Seakirk leaves anything of you.”
“Are you helping?”
Cameron laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “Likely not, though I will thank you for putting Franbury off the scent. I wouldn’t worry about anything else. As for myself, I’m going to go find somewhere to sit as well. Just looking at you is making me weary.”
Zachary sighed deeply and watched his brother-in-law walk off. He turned and followed Kendrick out into what was apparently going to serve for the lists that morning.
He yawned and rubbed his hand over his face before he could stop himself. He wasn’t unused to going without sleep to meet a deadline, but he was the first to admit it had been a pretty unusual month. Even the last week had been tough. He’d driven from Scotland to Artane three times, been more worried about how a certain medieval woman might feel about him than he wanted to admit, and he’d just spent the past sixteen hours hopping over eight centuries and back to fix something he should have seen coming in the first place.
And now his future comfort at Seakirk’s dinner table rested on how he fared against Robin of Artane’s son, a son who he had the feeling had been just as driven in his day as Robin had been.
Kendrick threw away the sheath to his sword, then stood there facing him with his sword bared and a look of challenge on his face.
Zachary yawned again, because he couldn’t help it.
Jamie laughed.
Zachary shot his brother-in-law a look of warning, then unsheathed his sword. Unfortunately he had to yawn again before he could use it.
“Oh, by the saints,” Kendrick said in disgust, “are you going to sleep through this entire exercise?”
“I might.”
Kendrick’s look darkened. “I don’t suppose you spoke to my father about any of this, did you?”
Zachary would have preferred to satisfy Kendrick on his own merits, but he supposed Robin hadn’t given him that particular piece of paper just to have him keep it in his boot. He resheathed his sword, then pulled the letter out and handed it to Kendrick.
Kendrick read, then pursed his lips. “Very well, my father has spoken and I won’t gainsay him. You may have her freely, but it will be at a time of my choosing.”
“It will not,” Mary said loudly. She walked out into the lists. “I can decide for myself when I’ll wed him. I do not need your aid in this endeavor. And let me see that missive.”
Kendrick handed it to her with a grunt. Zachary watched Mary read it, then turn to him.
“Did you tell him that I loved you?”
Zachary shook his head with a smile. “I told him that I loved you, which he already knew. I told him that I hoped for the rest.”
“Well, then?”
He walked over to her, handed her suddenly spluttering brother his sword, then pulled her into his arms. “Let me ask you when we have some privacy,” he whispered in her ear. “A walk along the beach in a bit?”
She tightened her arms around him briefly. “Aye. But I need to go tend my horses first.”
He laughed. “Of course you do. I’ll go beg a crust of bread from Lord Edward’s cook, then come find you.”
She nodded, leaned up to kiss him quickly, then turned and ran toward the stables. Zachary watched her go, then realized he’d been joined in that effort by her brother. He looked at Kendrick.
“My lord?”
Kendrick handed him back his sword. “Sadly enough, I don’t dare gainsay my father, though I will meet you in the lists before you wed her. In six months or so.”
Zachary felt his mouth fall open.
Kendrick laughed at him, clapped him on the shoulder, then walked away. “Gideon, lad, where’s breakfast? I don’t know about any of you, but it’s been a very taxing morning for me so far and I need something strengthening before we go searching for that idiot Franbury. I wonder w
hat he’s gotten into this time that Zachary will need to go rectify in a different century?”
Zachary didn’t want to find out, but he followed after the others readily enough because food was involved.
And then he fully intended to go look for the woman who was grooming her father’s wedding presents to her so he could finally have some privacy with her.
He picked up a guidebook that some distracted soul had left lying on the front steps leading up to the great hall, flipped through the pages, and looked again at the changed drawings. The trip hadn’t been without its dangers, especially the end of it. If he hadn’t been hauled to his feet and shoved through the gate, heaven only knew where he would have landed.
He wondered what had happened to whoever had pushed him.
It was tempting to speculate, but he resisted. He would investigate later, when he could see straight. He walked over to the lord’s table, set his sword down, and wondered if it would be impolite to simply stretch out and have a nap right there. He might have, but he was suddenly distracted by the howls of pure terror coming from the direction of the kitchens. Someone had obviously been busy.
He leaned against the table and watched as Franbury and his camera guy came tearing out of the passageway. They were screaming as if they’d looked into the very pit of hell and seen something there that they really hadn’t wanted to. Franbury was absolutely white as a sheet and his cameraman looked no less terrified. Gideon did the second man the favor of reaching out and plucking the camera from his hands as he bolted by. Cameron held open the front door to apparently save Franbury and his friend the trouble.
Their screeches faded into the distance.
Zachary could hardly wait to see what had inspired such an abrupt departure.
Ambrose, Hugh, and Fulbert came strolling out of the passageway without haste, chatting amicably. Well, perhaps amicably wasn’t the right word to use. On closer inspection, Zachary saw that Fulbert and Hugh were arguing about something. Maybe there were niceties that had been failed to be observed in the haunting just perpetrated. Zachary wasn’t sure he wanted to know the details.
John Drummond, laird of the clan Drummond during some as-yet-undetermined century—Hugh could have told him, no doubt—came striding out behind the trio. He was covered in blood, maggots, and other gruesome substances. He was also scratching his head. With a hand that wasn’t attached to the other arm.