by Baker, Katy
The questions came out in a rush, all jumbled together. Why was I in Beaumont’s dungeon? Because I was trying to make amends. Because I have much to pay for.
But he couldn’t tell her that.
“None of the answers to yer questions are simple ones,” he said evasively. “And we dinna have time for them now.”
She stared at him for several seconds. Her deep brown eyes glinted and there was a faint pink tinge to her cheeks.
“Right. I get it,” she breathed at last. “You don’t want to tell me anything. Fine. Thank you for getting me out of that jail cell but I’ll take things from here.”
She pushed past him and began clambering the hillside towards the road.
“Wait! Where are ye going?”
“You said Beaumont’s arch brought me here, right?” she called back. “If that’s true then it can bloody-well take me home again! I’m not staying here a moment longer!”
Blair cursed under his breath and grabbed her arm, yanking her roughly around to face him.
“Have ye lost yer wits, woman? Beaumont has the arch guarded and ye wouldnae get within fifty paces before ye were arrested and thrown back into jail! I canna let ye put yerself in danger.”
“Like you have the right to give me orders? You can’t stop me! I have to try to get home!”
“Not like this,” he snapped. “I didnae break ye out of jail just to allow ye to walk straight back into it!”
“Do you have a better idea?” she snapped back. “I don’t have the first clue what’s happened to me. You’ve told me a crazy story about fairies and God-knows-what else but won’t explain what the hell you’re talking about! What else can I do but try to reach the arch?”
He inhaled slowly, trying to calm the turmoil that pounded through his veins. The thought of Beaumont getting his hands on her made his stomach twist.
“There is another option,” he said softly. “Ye can come with me. Come back to my stronghold. I swear I will keep ye safe until we can figure out a way to get ye home.”
“Come with you?” Georgie said incredulously. “Why would I do that? For all I know you might be as bad as Charles Beaumont! How am I supposed to believe you when you won’t answer my questions?”
Blair sighed then scrubbed a hand through his hair. “All right. Fine. Ye asked how I know Adaira Campbell? The answer is I dinna know her. I’ve never met the woman. I know of her, that’s all.”
“But that makes no sense. She lives in the twenty-first century!”
“Do ye think ye are the only one to have ever traveled through time? Ye are not. There have been...others. The Highlands were once the realm of the Fae and some of their power remains, hidden. Adaira Campbell wishes to become one of them, to gain the power of time. Somehow she’s managed to activate the arch so that she can communicate with Beaumont and they’re working together.”
She watched him steadily, as if deciding whether to believe him.
“I’m not lying to ye,” he said. “I give ye my word as a MacAuley. Ye wanted to know why I was in Charles Beaumont’s dungeon? Because one of his patrols caught me trying to sneak into Dun Halas. I wanted to destroy that arch, stop him from using it. I dinna know what his plans might be but they will be naught good for the Highlands, that’s for sure. There is more going on here than I can possibly explain right now. Ye will just have to trust me.”
Georgie said nothing. She thought for a while. “When I worked for Adaira Campbell, she had lots of security guards,” she mused finally. “Too many. I found a cabinet full of guns and when I first came through the arch Charles Beaumont asked me where his army was.”
Blair’s eyes widened as the import of her words sank in. “An army? She’s bringing him an army?”
Georgie nodded, her face pale. “She must be. Her security people must really have been soldiers. She’s going to bring Charles Beaumont an army with guns.”
Blair felt the blood drain from his face. If Georgie was right... how was he supposed to stand against such a force?
“It’s my fault!” Georgie whispered. “I restored that arch. I gave her the means to get here! What have I done?”
The anguish in her voice tugged at his heart. He rested his hands on her shoulders.
“Nay, lass,” he said. “It isnae yer fault. Ye couldnae have known. But right now, we have to get away from here. What do ye say? Will ye come with me?”
She didn’t reply. She turned to look back the way they’d come, staring back towards Dun Halas. Then she faced him. “I’ll come with you—on one condition. You let me help you to stop Beaumont and Adaira. We do this together. Do we have a deal?” She held out her hand.
Blair reached out and shook it, sealing their bargain. “Aye. We have a deal.”
Chapter 5
Georgie sat rigidly in the saddle, clinging on with her knees, and doing her best not to fall off. She’d had riding lessons as a child—during one of the rare times when she and her father had stayed more than six months in one place—and considered herself a reasonable rider, but riding double on a strange mount with a burly highlander sat so close she could feel his breath on the back of her neck was something else entirely.
They did not return to the road and instead cut across empty country consisting of wooded valleys and clear streams. They saw not another soul although they once spotted a farmhouse in the distance but Blair turned away from it and led them into dense tree cover so as not to be spotted by the people working the fields.
When she’d asked him where they were headed all he would say was ‘somewhere safe’ and would not elaborate.
As they rode, Blair held the reins in front of her which meant she was caged within his arms. Those arms were thick with muscle and his physique suggested he was well used to physical labor. She ought to be afraid of him but she wasn’t—and that scared her more than anything that had happened so far.
She let out a slow breath. Ah, heck. Blair MacAuley was just another piece of this puzzle she’d found herself embroiled in. How was she ever going to figure all this out?
They traveled all day, stopping only to rest and water the horse. Each time they did, Blair disappeared into the undergrowth and returned to report no sign of pursuit. Georgie used these brief respites to take stock of her surroundings. She began to realize that she was in the same part of the Highlands that she had left. The geology was the same, and she recognized the line of mountains in the distance. Traveling through the arch had moved her through time, but not space, it seemed.
The huge difference of course, was that in the twenty-first century there were roads and houses, villages and towns covering the landscape. In this time there was nothing but open country. Despite her predicament, Georgie couldn’t help marveling at the freshness of the air, the clean beauty of the summer landscape.
It was late afternoon by the time Blair announced they were nearing their destination. Georgie got the impression that although they’d been traveling for hours, they hadn’t actually covered that great a distance. Blair had led them in a roundabout route, covering their trail to ensure nobody could follow them.
They neared the end of a narrow, steep-sided valley and as it opened out Georgie suddenly spotted something that looked like a castle in the distance. It was not large and looked half a ruin squatting on the hillside above them, guarding the approach from the valley.
“Well, here we are,” Blair said. His voice was tinged with relief.
“Where is here exactly?” Georgie asked.
“Home,” he replied. “At least, for now. A place where Charles Beaumont willnae find us.”
He nudged the horse into a canter towards the gates. They’d not gone more than a hundred yards when an alarm went up inside the fortress. Men appeared on the walls, all with bows drawn and arrows aimed right at Georgie and Blair. Georgie gasped in alarm but Blair held up a hand, shouted something in Gaelic, and the men stood down. The gates swung open, and a man came striding out to meet them.
Blair pul
led up as the man reached them. He was stout, somewhere in his middle years and had ruddy cheeks and gray whiskers. He scowled up at Blair with barely concealed fury.
“Ye bloody idiot! What did ye think ye were doing riding out by yerself? I ought to knock yer head off, ye damned fool!”
Blair laughed. “It’s good to see ye too, Brody! Although I might have wished for a warmer welcome.” He swung down from the horse and faced the older man.
“Welcome?” Brody growled. “After the stunt ye pulled? If yer father were here he’d beat ye bloody!”
“But he isnae here, is he? And ye know ye willnae lay a hand on me. Ye love me too much for that!”
Brody glared at him but then his expression softened. He shook his head, a wry smile twisting his lips. “Damn ye, Blair. That smart tongue of yers will get ye killed one of these days.”
“Aye,” Blair agreed with a grin. “But not today.” He clapped Brody on the shoulder and the older man pulled him into an embrace.
“I hope yer idiocy was worth it.”
“It was,” Blair replied, stepping back and nodding to Georgie. “I bring a guest. Brody MacConnell, this is Lady Georgina Smyth. She is to be afforded every courtesy whilst she stays with us.”
Brody turned his gaze on Georgie. Surprise flickered across his ruddy features as he took in her strange clothes. He gave her a courtly bow.
“A pleasure to meet ye, my lady. Where do ye hail from?”
Georgie stammered, a little flustered. “I...er...”
What was she supposed to say? I’m from the future, very nice to meet you?
But Blair came to her aid. “A long way from here. I met her in Charles Beaumont’s dungeon.”
Brody’s eyebrows shot up and he opened his mouth to speak but Blair cut him off with a gesture. “I’ll tell ye everything later once we’ve eaten and gotten cleaned up. Tell Clara to prepare a meal and then gather the men. We have much to discuss.”
Brody scowled, looked about to argue, and then nodded. He turned to the gate, bellowed a few instructions, and led the horse inside.
Blair turned to Georgie, “Dinna worry, lass. Ye have naught to fear. These are good men. A little rough around the edges but good men. Come.”
She took a deep breath and followed Blair through the gate. Beyond lay a weed-strewn courtyard that had seen better days. Many of the flagstones had been pulled up, leaving bare earth behind.
Her stonemason’s eye kicked in immediately. There were signs of repair everywhere. Many of the walls had been patched with stones dug from other parts of the fortress and where there wasn’t enough stone, timber had been nailed into place instead.
In one corner of the courtyard a narrow watchtower rose above the height of the walls but it was clearly subsiding, with a crack down one wall and the lintels canted to one side. Hmm. That was dangerous. She would have to speak to Blair about getting it strengthened with scaffolding.
A small keep that looked as if it had started life as a tower house before being added to over the years sat in the center of the complex. It looked in better repair than the rest. The roof had been patched and there were even shutters on the windows. Smoke rose from a chimney and Georgie detected the smell of roasting meat. It set her stomach growling. Those berries hadn’t been nearly enough.
Men approached them as they stepped through the gates, mobbing Blair. They greeted him warmly, shook his hand, made jokes at his expense, and wanted to know where he’d been. Blair greeted them all by name, promising he would tell them all about his mission later. They accepted this, deferring to him, and a realization dawned on Georgie.
He’s in charge here, she thought. He’s their commander.
She had no time to ponder this as she was hustled into the keep, along a corridor to a timber-framed hall. A fireplace sat against one wall although there was no fire burning in it on such a warm day and the flagstone floor looked freshly swept. Wooden tables and benches filled the space, with one larger table dominating one end.
Georgie stared, taking it all in. A pennant hung above the fireplace, a plaid in the same colors as the one Blair and most of the other men wore.
It must be the colors of the MacAuleys, she thought. And these must all be members of Clan MacAuley or closely tied to them.
But what were they all doing out here in a half-ruined fortress in the middle of nowhere?
“There ye are!” said a voice.
Georgie turned to see a young woman hurrying towards Blair. She had dark hair tied back with a scarf and wore an apron over her blue woollen dress. A set of keys jangled at her waist.
“Thank the Good Lord that ye’ve returned!” she cried, grabbing Blair and patting him down as if to check he was in one piece. Blair scowled but endured the inspection in silence.
“Ye have yer father’s luck,” the woman continued. “But I swear ye will be the death of me!”
Blair grinned that quick, infectious grin. Then he kissed the woman on the cheek. “Aye, but ye know ye wouldnae want me any other way.”
The woman, who Georgie guessed must be Clara, raised an eyebrow. “There has been word from yer uncle. Laird MacAuley isnae pleased. He’s sent orders for ye to return home immediately.”
Laird? Georgie thought. Isn’t that a lord of some kind? And he’s Blair’s uncle? Did that mean Blair was a nobleman?
Blair sobered abruptly. Something flashed across his features, quickly stifled. “We aren’t going anywhere.”
“It might be wise,” Brody said, coming up to Blair’s side. “If we risk the laird’s anger—”
“I said no!” Blair growled. “We stay until our mission is complete.”
Brody nodded. “Aye. I thought ye’d say that.”
Blair breathed out slowly then laid his hand on Brody’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, old friend, I didnae mean to snap. But we made a vow. We must see this through to the end.”
“Aye,” Brody said with a sigh. “I know. And we will follow ye to the end.”
Blair smiled with a hint of sadness. “I know ye will.”
He turned to Georgie. “This is Clara MacConnell, my housekeeper. Go with her. Rest, bathe, eat. We’ll talk later.”
Georgie glanced from Blair to Clara. The woman smiled. “If ye come with me, my lady, I’ll see that ye are made comfortable.”
Rest, bathe, eat. That sounded like just what Georgie needed right now. She was so tired and so hungry she could barely think straight.
She followed Clara to a door at the back of the hall. On the threshold she paused and glanced back. Blair’s men had clustered around him, all of them talking at once. But Blair wasn’t listening to them. He was staring after Georgie, an unreadable look in his ice-blue eyes.
Georgie’s stomach fluttered. With an effort, she tore herself away and followed Clara through the door.
BLAIR COULDN’T HELP watching as Georgie walked away from him. She paused on the threshold, turned to look back at him, and as their eyes met, he felt his pulse quicken. And then she was gone and his men were clamoring for his attention.
Pushing thoughts of the lass from his mind, he strode to his place at the head table and took his seat, indicating for his captains to join him. Cook and his helpers came in carrying a crock of stew and jugs of ale and Blair slaked his thirst and tucked into the food, ravenous. As he ate, he waved for his captains to make their report.
“It isnae looking good, my lord,” Malcolm said. He was an older man, with dark hair going thin on top and his once muscled body beginning to turn to fat. Nevertheless, he was the best archer in Blair’s company and he valued the man’s calm head and cool judgment. “There were three skirmishes yesterday. One to the east and another two to the north. Beaumont is getting closer all the time. It willnae be long before he finds us.”
“And we’re getting low on supplies,” added Brody with a glower at the crock of stew sitting on the table. “And with Beaumont harassing the local populace and burning what he canna take, we’ll soon be out of provisions.”
“How soon?” Blair asked.
Brody shrugged. “If we begin rationing, maybe a month. Six weeks at the most.”
Blair growled under his breath. This was not the news he needed to hear. Now that he’d escaped Beaumont’s clutches the man would be more determined than ever to flush him out, curse him.
“What of the refugees?” he asked, referring to the survivors of the nearby village that Beaumont had burned out five days ago.
“Most have gone north,” Brody said. “To kin who can take them in. A few of the younger men wish to join us—those that can swing a weapon. They want revenge on Beaumont no matter the cost to them.”
No matter the cost, Blair thought. Even their lives?
This was no game they were playing. Lord Charles Beaumont was one of the most ruthless border lords Blair had encountered. His ambition was limitless and he would not let some peasant villagers stand in his way.
“So what if Beaumont finds us?” said Sean. The man, a hot-blooded red-head who had been one of Blair’s closest friends since childhood, had an angry look on his face. It made the scar running down his cheek stand out all the more—a scar gained during a tavern fight that Blair had led him into. “Isnae that what we want? If we can draw him out of that damned castle of his, cut him off from his supplies, we have a chance to take him down, to finish this once and for all.”
There was a rumble of agreement at this. Blair said not a word. He stared out of the window at the cloudless blue sky beyond.
“It isnae that simple,” he said eventually. He leaned forward in his chair, clasping his hands on the scarred table top. He looked around at his men, all fiercely loyal, all willing to lay down their lives at his command. He didn’t deserve such loyalty but he would do his best to live up to it.
“I know ye all wish to hear where I’ve been.”
Brody snorted at this and muttered, “Ye could say that again.”
Blair gave him a small smile. “I shouldnae have left in secret but my mission required speed and stealth. I went to Beaumont’s castle. I wished to see the beast in his lair, work out what he is planning next. I meant to gather intelligence and then return before any of ye knew I was missing. Unfortunately it didnae quite work out that way. I was caught and thrown into Beaumont’s dungeon. It is only by the grace of God that Beaumont didnae kill me on the spot and that I was able to escape from the jail with the aid of Georgina Smyth—the woman who arrived with me today. But my mission wasnae in vain. I discovered Beaumont’s plan. I know what he is waiting for.”