“Aye, I will accept your apology.” Up went her chin again. “Will you set aside your resentment once and for all?”
His feelings went so much deeper and were way more complicated than what he’d been willing to share, but those were his issues, not hers. At least what he’d told her was the truth, just not all of the truth. “I’ll do my best.”
“Think you we might become friends, Struan?”
The vulnerability in her tone tore at him. He, more than anyone, knew what she was going through, and yet he’d offered her nothing but suspicion, defensiveness—and lust. “Aye, lass. I would like that.”
She chuckled. “Are you aware of the way you slip in and out of the speech of our time and now?”
“Aye. I’ve worked hard to fit in here, but speaking to one such as yourself brings the old ways to the fore.” He studied her for a second. “Are you able to shut off your fae abilities? Do you have any control?”
She nodded.
“I might not always be able to control my emotions. I want you to know that none of what I feel about the past has anything to do with you, and I can’t always turn it off. If you would agree to allow me my privacy, that would help us to get along better.”
“Oh.” Her face turned pink. “I . . . Och, now ’tis my turn to apologize. I’ve been so frightened and confused, I fear I’ve relied upon my abilities to gauge my surroundings.”
“Understandable under the circumstances.”
“I too will do my best to . . . to . . .”
“Stay out of my head?” He shot her a grin.
“Aye.” Her blush deepened, and she turned to stare out the window.
“Are you going to eat that bagel, or just hold it on your lap all morning?” Struan took a bite of his, eliciting a growl from his stomach. “Try it, Sky. I trow you’ll find it most pleasing.”
She took a hesitant nibble. Her features once again took on an intense look of concentration. Her brow rose slightly. “Aye, ’tis quite good. Sweet.” Her next bite was much larger.
One bagel wasn’t going to be enough for him, and he regretted not taking another before they’d left camp. He finished his bagel, keeping one eye on Sky, and the other on the road ahead. “You going to eat both halves? They are really big bagels.”
She laughed, and her eyes sparkled. “You remind me of my younger brothers, always hovering over my trencher on the chance that I might leave some tasty morsel. ‘Are you going to eat that?’ seems to be a common question no matter the century. Are young men never full?”
“Never.” The sound of her laughter made his insides do a slip-slide. “’Tis hard work being a man, even more so whilst young and still growing.”
“I can only imagine.” She handed him half her bagel and set the other half on the dashboard with only a few bites missing. “Will you tell me a bit about where we’re going?”
“Aye. My family owns a thousand-acre farm that lies in a valley amongst the Appalachian Mountains of Virginia. ’Tis very much like Scotland there, with rolling hills, mountains, lochs, burns and thick forests.” He glanced at her, pride swelling his chest. “A year past, I was able to purchase five hundred acres of land for myself from an old man whose farm abuts ours. My home lies just across the road from theirs.”
“You’re a laird then.”
“Not in the way you mean it. I have no villeins or serfs. Anyone may own land in this time and place. We don’t have overlords or nobility, and our leaders are elected. We have the freedom to become whatever we wish. I also own a business, so I’m a landowner and a merchant.”
“And a knight.” She smiled.
“Nay, lass.” He shook his head. “I was never knighted. As you said yourself, I was but ten and four when I came here.”
“Still, had you continued your training, you would have been knighted, surely.”
“Mayhap, had I lived through Halidon Hill.” Did his rank matter so much to her? Of course it did. She was an earl’s legitimate daughter. His grip on the steering wheel tightened, the taunts and derision from his youth echoing through his mind. He forced his thoughts back to the present.
“We’ve a small, spring-fed loch on our land, and a burn that runs the entire length of the valley. ’Tis perfect for the kine my brother Ethan raises. He produces milk, which he sells to a nearby dairy. He also raises goats and sells the milk to a gourmet cheese-maker. Ethan used to perform at the fairs with me, but once Michael was old enough to take over the jousting and swordplay, Ethan took to farming full-time.”
Sky nodded. “Sounds lovely.”
“It is. I’ve a grand life here. I make a great living, and I have a wonderful family and good friends.”
“And . . . is there a lady?” Sky asked, her attention fixed upon the side of the road.
Struan’s heart pounded. “Nay.” He glanced at her, inordinately pleased by the blush his answer brought to her cheeks.
“With your kin lost to you, will the Gordons make a match for you in their stead?”
“That’s no’ how things are done in the twenty-first century, Sky. If we meet someone who appeals to us, we ask them out on a date, get to know them without chaperones hovering about.”
“Nay,” she cried, her eyes wide.
“Aye,” he assured her. “In this time, men and women wed for love, and they choose their partners on their own.”
“Hmm.” She cleared her throat. “I couldn’t help but notice you call Marjorie Ma, but you call Gene by his given name. Why is that?”
“My mother died giving birth to me. Marjorie is the only woman ever to mother me or to claim me as her son, and so she is truly my ma. I kent my da. He raised me, trained me, and he died whilst we fought our enemies side by side. I love Gene like a father, and I have told him how I feel. But, out of respect for the man who sired me, Gene and I agreed that I should call him by his given name.”
“You are very fortunate indeed to have found such a family.”
“I am.” He shifted, reached to the floor behind his seat and snatched up one of the science fiction books he loved to read. “It’s an eight-hour drive to our home in Virginia. Do you read?”
“Aye, my mother taught all of us to read, write and how to tally sums and such. Why do you ask?”
Struan placed the book in her lap. “I thought you might like to read to pass the time.”
“’Tis an odd-looking tome, to be sure.” Frowning, she picked up the paperback and studied the cover. “What might this be about?”
“It’s called science fiction, Sky. It’s all make believe, a tale of adventure in another world.” He grinned. “Give it a try, and if you don’t care for this book, you can try another, or mayhap you’d prefer a magazine. The floor behind your seat holds quite a few books and magazines to choose from.”
“Did the Gordons teach you to read?”
“Aye, and once they helped me get caught up to others my age, I went to high school and earned a diploma.”
“Aye?” Her brow puckered. “Is that similar to attending Oxford in Britain?”
He chuckled. “Somewhat. One must have a diploma or a GED certificate in this age in order to seek employment. You must have a high school education in order to go on to a college like Oxford. Everyone here learns to read and write, and so much more. For the most part, it’s a well-educated population.”
“Ah.”
One small word, yet it conveyed so much anxiety. Why had he brought up education and earning a living? He’d made her feel even more insecure than she already did. “Dinna fash. If need be, we’ll help you to gain what you need to get a GED, and then you can decide what you want to do from there. You’re a canny lass, and you’ll learn quickly.”
“Think you?”
“Aye.”
She shrugged. “It matters no’, for I intend to return to my kin as soon as may be arranged.”
He nodded, once again his insides rebelling at the notion. “This is a grand place, and a good time in which to live, Sky. Most diseas
es that felled folk in the past are easily cured now. Very few women die in childbirth as they did in the past.” What was he doing? Did he mean to comfort her, or was he trying to talk her into staying?
“I must go home, Struan.” She glanced at him, her features clouded. “My disappearance will set off a clan war, and I canna bear the thought of any of my kin coming to harm. My da has no idea just how deceitful and ruthless the Erskines are. I must warn my family.” She straightened. “I am already learned, and my cousin Erin brought back vaccinations with her when she returned to Robley. And since I have decided never to marry, I will no’ face the risk of childbirth.”
“Never marry?” His gaze flew to her. “Why not?”
“I dinna wish to burden any bairns with the fae abilities I carry,” she said in a small voice.
Had she suffered stigma and suspicion because of her gifts? He knew well what happened to anyone thought to be a witch in the fourteenth century, and it didn’t take much to cause an accusation, either. The fear of such a fate must have been a constant in her life. His heart wrenched, and protectiveness for her surged. Mentally, he renewed his oath to be her champion. “Your abilities aren’t feared or scorned in this century like they are in the past. Wiccan practitioners, witches, are free to follow their beliefs in this age, and—”
“I’m no’ a witch,” she cried. “I’m part fae, and I dinna practice aught but the healing arts.”
“I ken as much. I’m just trying to show you how different things are today. You have nothing to fear.”
“Humph.” She lifted the book from her lap. “I wouldst try this science fiction of yours now.”
He nodded, his mind already shifting to his own dilemma. Sky Elizabeth had been open and honest with him, while he’d kept his secrets. He glanced sideways at her. She was so pretty he lost his breath every time he looked at her. He should tell her right now that he was the bastard son of Kenneth, the fourth earl of Sutherland, and therefore kin to her by marriage.
He opened his mouth to do so, and closed it again. Best think on it a while yet, examine the pros and cons, let her get to know him first and foremost as the man he’d fashioned himself to be in the present. He was a well-respected, successful artisan, a landowner and a highly skilled performer. Once he was certain she saw him in the light he preferred to cast upon himself, then certainly the circumstances of his illegitimate birth would not matter.
Why did her opinion matter so much? He ground his molars together. Clearly, he had more thinking to do before he did or said anything to Sky Elizabeth of clan MacKintosh, the earl of Fife’s eldest daughter.
CHAPTER FIVE
Sky could make no sense of the book in her lap. Alien beings? Other worlds and intergalactic intrigues? She had no idea what intergalactic meant, and she had enough difficulty with the one world in which she found herself at present. Besides, Struan’s words kept distracting her from the incomprehensible story.
In this age, couples wed for love and chose their own mates. How could that notion not send her thoughts to her own circumstance? Her foster brother, Hunter, married for love, as had her cousin Robley and her cousin Liam, and Liam’s wife had been the daughter of their most bitter enemy.
Indeed, her own parents had gone against the wishes of her grandsire and had handfasted whilst the earl was away, later taking their vows before a priest. Yet Sky had been bartered away to a black-hearted knave so despicable he’d already planned her murder, and they hadn’t even spoken their vows yet.
Soon enough, her twin brothers would be forced to wed ladies of noble birth, and both lasses would be chosen by their father, who was now himself the earl of Fife. Already the twins had received numerous offers from earls and barons with marriageable daughters. And what of her dear sisters? Would they suffer a similar fate as hers, being given in marriage to men who would never care one whit for them? The thought of wee Sarah married to a man who cared naught for her, whilst congratulating himself for acquiring more land, more wealth, brought a sting to her eye.
’Twas not just. Whilst her parents had gone against the old earl’s wishes, she and her siblings remained assets to be traded away for property, fortunes and alliances. The disparity, the utter iniquity existing within her own clan had never before occurred to her, yet now she could think of little else. She closed the book on her lap and stared out the window.
“Not to your liking, Sky?”
She shook her head. “I canna make any sense of the words.”
“Would you like to try one of the magazines?” Struan reached back behind the seat.
“Nay.” She shifted in her plush seat. Riding in a truck was far more comfortable than traveling on horseback. “In this century, a man may fashion his life to suit himself, aye?”
“Aye.” He smiled her way. “If he’s willing to work hard for what he wants.”
Her insides fluttered. When he smiled, when his wide-set blue eyes weren’t filled with resentment or haunted by the past, he was most charming. “What of the women? Can they too determine for themselves what their futures will hold?”
“They can. Women can be and do whatever they wish. Some even choose to be soldiers.”
“Soldiers?” She canted her head, trying to imagine such a thing. “Och, the women of our era have oft fought alongside the men in defense of home and kin. ’Tis no’ so different I suppose. Can women hold land as well, or does ownership revert to the husband should she wed?”
“Women may own property, and ownership does not revert to the husband should she marry.” He glanced at her, his eyes twinkling in a most beguiling manner. “Why? Are you thinking of buying land? Just how many gold coins do you have sewn into that gown of yours?”
“No’ so many as that.” An answering smile broke free. “Och, ’tis but curiosity.”
“If you could be or do anything you wanted, what would you do to earn your living in this century?”
“I am a healer like my mother and cousin, but Erin has told me about the miracles of your time. My skills are poor indeed in comparison. Hmm.” She tapped her chin. “Mayhap I would choose to be an artisan. I do enjoy creating things of beauty, tapestries, clothing, beading, weaving and the like.”
“There you go,” he said with a look of triumph. “We travel to Renaissance festivals all over, and I rent booths in most of them. Soon, I plan to quit jousting and focus solely on my business. Your wares would be a most welcome addition to what I already sell. Plus, there’s always the Internet.”
“There is that word again. What is this net you speak of? The only nets I ken are those used by our fisherman.”
“Uh . . . hmm. Hard to explain. It’s best to show you, and I’ll teach you how to use my laptop.”
“My thanks.” Her thoughts returned to her family. What must it have been like for her mother? To come from an age where she could have been and done anything she wished, only to be thrust into a society where women had little say in what became of them?
She’d heard the tales all her life, how her mother had been a talented violinist attending a prestigious school with a job already awaiting her. Her mother still played her harp, but her precious violin had been shattered long ago by an enemy who had captured her to lure Sky’s father into a trap. She sighed.
“Are you tired or just bored?”
“Neither.” Sky glanced at Struan. “I’ve much to think on. ’Tis quite different here.” Sliding her palms down the denim of her shorts, she continued. “Clothing, food, how you travel from one place to another and your society . . . I dinna ken what to make of it all. At home, my future was determined for me from the moment of my birth. You say in this era women decide for themselves. I canna imagine what it must be like to have such freedom.”
She bit her lip, as a wave of conflicting emotions overtook her—bitterness, mixed with love and loyalty for her family. She chafed at the constraints her rank and duty placed upon her, yet with every fiber of her being, she missed her kin and wanted nothing more than to go hom
e. The sting of tears burned her eyes. She blinked rapidly, trying to stem the flow.
“Oh no. Don’t cry, princess.”
She choked out a strangled laugh. “Still you insist upon calling me by a title I cannot claim.”
“Aye, but without any disparagement. Surely you can sense that.” Struan reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze.
At his touch, a quivering ensued low in her belly. “You asked me not to invade your privacy.” She turned away lest he see her guilt. She hadn’t closed herself off to him.
“Aye, but I dinna expect you have.”
Chagrinned, she shrugged. “Ceart go leor.” Right enough.
“Och, ceart go leor.” He grinned. “I’ve no’ heard that expression since coming to this century.”
“I imagine no’.” Sky looked his way, an eyebrow lifted. “Still, my name is no’ Princess. ’Tis Sky Elizabeth.”
“I ken your name well enough, lass,” he said, his tone gruff.
A sudden awareness thrummed between them. There was no mistaking the desire emanating from Struan, nor could she ignore the answering heat pooling deep within her.
Nay, she could not allow herself to feel aught for Struan. She had no intention of staying in his time. Besides, he’d confessed his fears regarding her presence, and she had released him from his vow of fealty. She would not—indeed, she could not—ask him for aught but help in contacting and reaching the McGladreys.
“Warm Springs,” Sky read the sign at the edge of the town their caravan had just entered. They’d been in the realm of Virginia since late afternoon, and once she’d given up on the science fiction book, she’d entertained herself by reading the many signs they passed along their journey, whilst trying to make sense of them. “Are there really warm springs here?”
“Quite a few. This part of the Appalachian Mountains is called Bath County.”
Sky searched the surrounding area as if she might see spirals of steam floating upward from one of the springs. All she saw were buildings lining the thoroughfare through the village.
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