by Glenn, Laura
“Drink up,” he insisted into her ear as he rubbed her lower back. “I have not yet tupped a woman so great with child, but tonight I could be persuaded.”
A wave of panicked revulsion washed over her. He laughed again as her eyes, wide with fright, met his. She had to get out of there, but how?
“Drink,” he insisted.
Anna lifted the cup and tilted her head back, careful to keep her mouth closed so the wine would not pass through. She pretended to swallow and licked her lips, the bitterness of the wine tingling the tip of her tongue.
“That is my good lassie,” James crooned, squeezing her hip.
She was rescued from the repulsive situation as three of James’ warriors approached and bowed lowly before them. It was an odd gesture to her since none of Galen’s warriors ever bowed before him. Galen always treated every man in his clan as more or less an equal and it made her fall in love with him a little more.
Anna reached for the pitcher in front of her and poured additional wine into James’ glass. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and nodded his thanks as he reached for the cup once again.
James fell into a conversation in Gaelic with his men and was soon joined by others. Ribald and some downright sexist comments flew back and forth along with loud laughter. He turned his back to her and she heaved a sigh of relief.
Anna was determined to keep a straight face and James’ cup filled as the evening wore on. Her contractions seemed steady, but still not close enough together for her to freak out.
James’ speech became more garbled and the rowdiness of his men increased, putting her on edge. She chewed her lower lip, searching for any and all exits from the great hall, when she spotted Conn strolling toward her out of the corner of her eye.
“More wine, my lady?” He reached for the recently refilled pitcher before her.
Anna was about to decline when a small, folded piece of parchment fell from his fingertips next to her cup as he topped off her wine. He moved toward James’ group and topped off all of their cups as well.
Anna slowly reached for the parchment with one hand and the wine with the other. She glanced around to see if anyone watched her and then unfolded the parchment, tilting it toward the firelight behind her.
Go to the chapel for prayers.
Anna’s eyes darted around. Was this was some sort of trap? Conn threw his head back in laughter, slapping the shoulder of the man next to him. She glanced at James and then stuffed the note into the neckline of her leine.
Could she trust Conn? She couldn’t think of a single reason why he would want to hurt her, but if she were to get caught, would he betray her?
It didn’t matter. She had to at least try to slip away. Careful to avert her gaze from Conn, Anna pressed her fingertips against James’ forearm to get his attention.
Laughing, James turned toward her. “Yes, my love?”
“I would like to go to the chapel and pray for a while before I retire to my chamber,” she murmured into his ear.
He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “I did not realize you were a religious woman.”
“Time changes people,” she replied, softening her words with a demure lowering of her lashes.
She wasn’t certain what it was, but something in her expression pleased him and he smiled in satisfaction. Perhaps in his drunken stupor he saw what he thought was surrender or deference.
“Of course, my sweet,” he agreed. “It is good for the wife of a laird to practice holiness. It sets an example for the other women.”
Thankfully, Anna was able to keep her seething rage hidden and instead humbly bowed her head.
“Conn.” James waved his empty cup at his cousin across the table. “Escort my lady to the chapel and stay with her while she says her prayers. Then take her to her room.”
Conn handed the empty pitcher to a buxom young woman who sashayed toward the group with another full pitcher. “Of course, laird. My lady?”
Anna stood from the hard, wooden bench she had sat on far too long and absentmindedly rubbed her lower back as she cursed her stiff, swollen ankles. How on earth was she supposed to make a break for it when she moved slower than molasses in January?
As she was about to step away from the table, James caught her hand.
“I will join you when your prayers are over,” he slurred, throwing her a depraved wink.
She turned before her face could betray her disgust and skirted around the table to where Conn waited. He offered her his arm and then guided her through the crowd to the door.
Anna welcomed the cool night air on her flesh as they stepped into the silent courtyard. Conn quickened his pace and she struggled to keep up, her ears ringing at the sudden absence of sound after having spent several hours in the loud hall. They walked around to the back of the keep and approached a small, stone chapel. Soft candlelight spilled from the stained-glass windows on the side of the secluded structure and onto the ground.
Conn pulled open the door and silently stood aside. The little hairs on the back of Anna’s neck stood as she peered inside, still uncertain if she should cross the threshold. She glanced up at Conn, but he remained stone-faced. She took a deep breath and stepped inside.
Several worn, wooden benches stood to either side of an aisle that led directly to a small altar in the tiny, white-washed room. Three rows of burning candles stood on a low table in front of the altar, just behind an ornate, wooden kneeler with a crimson cushion.
She glanced behind her as the door latched closed. It appeared she was alone, but her gut suggested otherwise. She slowly advanced toward the altar, watching out of the corner of her eye for any sort of movement. As she approached the kneeler, she used the low table before her to steady herself as she lowered to her knees.
Anna folded her hands together in a prayerful pose, her ears straining in the silence for anyone approaching. Several moments passed, with nothing other than an ache creeping into her knees.
This is ridiculous.
She closed her eyes and offered a brief prayer for help before placing her palms on the table in front of the candles to push herself up. There had to be another exit out of the chapel that would allow her to cross into the shadows of the courtyard so she could find a way out.
“Excuse me, my lady,” a deep, baritone spoke English from a dark corner behind the altar.
Chapter Twenty-One
Anna gulped down a breath and tensed, her eyes darting toward the direction of the voice. A dark figure in a long, hooded monk’s robe stepped out of the shadows toward her. She leaned on the table in front of her, rattling the candles in their holders in an attempt to rise.
“Please stay, my lady. I only wish to join in your prayers,” the monk reassured her, holding his empty palms up to calm her.
She could not outrun him in her current state. She eyed him suspiciously through narrowed slits, but remained still, her senses on high alert. The low candlelight did little to illuminate his face due as did the deep hood covering his head. Her pulse thumped ever louder in her temples that renewed the dull ache in the back of her head where she had been struck.
The monk approached her like she was a skittish, injured deer and lowered his knees to the cushioned kneeler. “Please, do not be afraid,” he stated as he settled next to her, his elbow only a scant few inches from her own.
The man towered over her, even in his stooped state. His large, weathered hands folded into a prayerful pose.
Finally able to force her voice out of her parched throat, she replied, “Perhaps if you could remove your hood and introduce yourself to me, I might be less likely to be alarmed.”
He lifted his hands and pushed the hood back onto his shoulders, revealing a mass of shoulder-length faded red hair, and a neatly trimmed beard and mustache of the same color. He turned his face toward her and smiled gently, the skin around his eyes crinkling. A flame from one of the candles crackled and leaped higher, throwing light across his features and illuminating the
man’s deep greenish-blue eyes.
Recognition dawned and her breath caught in her throat as a flash of the photograph of her father holding her as a baby flew through her mind. Part of her didn’t believe it, and she scrutinized his face for several moments in silence.
“I am Alec Campbell, your father, Anna.” His smile faded as a worry entered his eyes. “Please do not fear me. I would never hurt you.”
The color of his hair had faded with wisps of white sprinkled throughout and his skin had certainly aged since the photograph was taken, but the features of this man before her were identical to the image of the father she held in her head from that one image. Tears stung her eyes, but she forced them back with a deep breath as her suspicious nature moved to the forefront.
“What is my mother’s name?” she asked, determined to find out whether or not this man was an impostor. “And my grandparents? How did you meet my mother? Where did she live?”
He smiled at her barrage of questions and nodded. “Your mother was called Karen and she was a Graham from Fannich village. Your grandparents were George and Katherine and they ran a public house down the hill from Graham Castle. Your mother and I met there on the night of the fall equinox.”
“How?” Anna suppressed the impatient panic arising with the distraction of yet another contraction. “How did you get there? You did not belong there.”
“You are right, I did not,” he agreed. “I had no idea where I was at first. I was only thinking of the stories my mother told me when I was a wee one about traveling between worlds. She had just died and the clan was falling on hard times. I was a desperate young man, throwing caution and good sense to the wind without any belief the stone she always insisted was enchanted was anything more than an ordinary rock.”
The contraction subsided. Anna concentrated on her hands for a moment as she breathed deeply in an attempt to relax. “James said it brought wealth to the person who held it,” she whispered. “But it was in your possession and the Campbells were having difficulties.”
He chuckled with a hint of derision. “That is a rumor spread by the gossips of jealous clans. Has it brought you either gold or fame, lass?”
She shook her head and offered him small smile. She rubbed her belly as her abdominal muscles finally relaxed and she thought about the other more precious things she had received since accepting the piece of amber-colored quartz.
Alec reached out and patted her hand. Instinctively, she turned her palm up and grasped his hand, covering it with her other hand.
Surprise flew across his face and he smiled. “I did not know if you ever cared to see me. When the Gowrie sent word he had you, I did not believe him at first. But I could not stand by and allow him to use you against me if he spoke the truth. That is why I am here…to get you somewhere safe and away from him.”
Alec glanced down at her protruding stomach. “From the looks of you, it will be none too soon.”
She pressed her lips together and briefly closed her eyes in relief. For the first time since arriving at the Gowrie holding, her worry and despair dissipated. Finally, she had a chance to escape.
“How is it you are still stuck here in my time?” he asked, eying her stomach. “The equinox was months ago. You should have been back home by now. Your husband must be worried sick.”
Anna laughed, her eyelashes quivering nervously as she stared in wonder and disbelief at her father’s hand lying between hers. “From the stories James told me, I would need to be in Graham Castle in order to be taken back to my own time. But the MacAirth took me with him when I helped him out of the dungeon so I’ve been nowhere near it.”
She glanced at him just as his face paled. He stared at her for several long moments, obviously attempting to piece together the sequence of events. “It was you who helped him to escape?”
Anna nodded, uncertainty filling her at the sudden strain in his voice.
“And he…he…” He inspected her giant stomach once again.
Alec ripped his hand from hers and shoved himself onto his feet. “I will kill him,” he muttered.
As Anna attempted to push to standing, three additional figures stepped from the shadows behind the altar. She choked back a startled cry and stumbled backward, losing her footing as her heart pounded in her ears.
Evidently, Alec’s reflexes hadn’t faded nearly as much as his hair. He caught her under her elbows and lifted her to her feet.
As Anna was about to wrench herself out of his grasp, certain they had been caught by some of James’ men, one of the robed figures threw back his hood and asked in Gaelic, “Father, what is wrong?”
She stilled, allowing her father to steady her from behind as she came face to face with a man who shared her dark-red hair.
The other two figures threw back their hoods as well and all three men approached. The other two also looked very much like Alec, but they both sported shoulder-length brown hair.
“Do you see your sister, lads?” Alec spat through gritted teeth in Gaelic. “The MacAirth did this to her!”
“Sister?” Anna repeated in bafflement, furrowing her brow.
The younger men’s eyes widened as all of their gazes centered on Anna’s stomach. As if on cue, a contraction began to build. But this time it was stronger. She wrapped one arm around her stomach, dizziness descending upon her as the pain increased.
She closed her eyes. Alec grasped her elbow and guided her backward until the backs of her knees hit the edge of a bench. Gratefully sinking onto it, she breathed deeply and the contraction slowly eased.
“As soon as we can get her to the MacPhearson’s holding, we can take our men and march north,” the younger red-haired man muttered. “It is on our way to MacAirth land anyway.”
“If we can make it that far,” one of the other young men grumbled. “Just look at her. She is about to drop the babe any moment now.”
“No,” Alec replied. “We need to stand with your uncle. We cannot allow the MacPhearsons to fight off the Gowrie alone. The MacAirth will have to wait.”
Anna was finally able to recollect her thoughts and energy and scooted toward the edge of the bench to stand.
“Sit down, lass.” Her father placed his hand on her shoulder. “Reserve your strength.”
“Did not the MacAirth decide to keep a red-haired woman some time ago?” the youngest man asked, thoughtfulness playing across his baby-like face. “The same woman who helped him escape the Graham dungeon, right?”
The chapel fell silent as all eyes turned toward her. Anna exhaled with impatience and shook off Alec’s hand so she could stand.
“Yes, he did and yes, I am,” she answered in clipped Gaelic. She turned toward the young men and glared at them with her fists propped on her hips. “You will, under no circumstances, attack my husband’s clan. Is that clear?”
“You speak our language,” the younger, red-headed man commented in surprise.
“Is that clear?” she repeated, crossing her arms.
When they all nodded, she turned toward Alec, waiting for his agreement.
“If that is your wish, daughter, and he treats you well, I will abide.” Alec’s gaze roamed her face as if he were trying to read her thoughts.
“It is and he does,” she replied, uncertain how comfortable she was with this stranger calling her “daughter”.
Alec nodded and turned toward his sons. “I suppose I should introduce you to your brothers. The redhead is Niall, he is my eldest. The taller one is Sionn and the youngest is Daniel.”
She smiled at each in turn, but her attention centered on Niall. He did not look much younger than her.
As if he sensed her confusion, Alec caressed her arm. “Once the stone had gone missing, I could not come back for you or your mother. My father had made a deal with the MacPhearson for me to marry his daughter while I was visiting you as a babe and so I was married to my wife within a couple of months. Niall was born less than a year later. I never thought I would have the chance to see yo
u again.”
It was silly, but Anna couldn’t help how her heart ached as though she and her mother had been betrayed. Instead of expressing her feelings, however, she pushed them aside and simply nodded. Now was not the time for explanations or in-depth emotional discussions.
“Well now, I suppose you all have a brilliant plan for getting me out of here,” she stated hopefully, taking a deep breath. “That’s why you’re here dressed like monks, right?”
Alec smiled tentatively, worry glowing in his eyes. “We have warriors outside the walls waiting for us.”
“I will take care of the man outside the door.” Sionn drew a daggerfrom the folds of his robe.
Was he talking about Conn? Sionn almost made it past her before she grabbed his arm to stop him. “You can’t hurt him. He’s been trying to help me.”
Sionn’s eyes hardened as he stared down at her. “Make no mistake, sister. Conn is a Gowrie through and through.”
Anna bristled at his patronizing tone. “You were the ones who gave him the note for me to come here, were you not?”
“Well, yes.” Niall stepped forward. “But he is still a Gowrie and we have seen him play both sides before. In fact, one of our men is outside right now to keep an eye on him.”
She met the gaze of each man in turn, her nerves close to fraying. “Look, I saved his life once before when Galen was ready to kill him. He owes me.”
“You what?” Sionn asked in disbelief. “I cannot believe the MacAirth would have deferred to a mere woman.”
Heat rose to Anna’s cheeks and she stepped menacingly toward her younger brother. “You listen here, you little squirt.” She poked him in the chest as she glared at him. “I spent a long time sewing Conn up and resetting his wrist and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you ruin all of my hard work. Oh…”
Anna stepped back and grabbed her stomach as another contraction set in.