Arch Through Time: Books 1, 2 and 3: Scottish Time Travel Romances (Arch Through Time Collections)

by Katy Baker

  “Sorry,” she muttered, veering to the side to avoid a collision.

  But the person stepped that way too, blocking her path. Frowning, Gretchen looked up and her heartbeat quickened.

  It was Richard de Clare.

  He was stripped to the waist, carrying his tunic over one shoulder and his hair was wet. He’d obviously been for a swim in the river. Gretchen noticed he was broad-shouldered with a muscled chest and thick biceps crisscrossed with white scars.

  “Excuse me,” Gretchen said and made to step around him.

  But Richard de Clare moved forward to block her way. He was looking at her with an expression that made Gretchen’s heart pound in her chest. His eyes flashed.

  “What have we here?” he said in his refined English accent. “Have you missed me so much you had to come find me? Ah, that’s sweet.”

  He sidled closer, so there was only an arm’s length between them.

  “You’re mistaken,” Gretchen said, determined not to back away. “I was just going for a walk.”

  “Really?” he said. “Well, perhaps I’ll accompany you.”

  He moved even closer and this time Gretchen found herself backing up a step. Her eyes darted around, looking behind him but there was nobody else in sight. The outer wall blocked them from the view of the castle.

  “No, thank you,” she said, forcing herself to raise her chin and meet his gaze. “I’d prefer to be alone.”

  “Would you?” de Clare drawled. “How very...independent of you. And stupid. Have you not realized how dangerous it is for a woman to be on her own in this place? A woman needs friends. Strong friends. Have you thought about my offer? Like I said before, we should be allies. I could be the friend you need if you make it worth my while.”

  His eyes had gone dark and Gretchen was sure now that it was lust she saw in them. That scared her more than anything. He wore a little half-smile as he watched her.

  “No thanks,” she said in as confident a voice as she could manage. “You’d find that I’m not your type.”

  She took a step forward, meaning to go round him but he suddenly grabbed her arms and slammed her back against the wall. Gretchen gasped, the wind knocked out of her.

  “I’m not sure you understand,” Richard de Clare murmured. “You don’t have a choice.”

  He pushed his body up against hers and Gretchen could feel his arousal pressing against her belly. He pinned her wrists against the wall with one of his strong hands and with his other he grabbed her breast and squeezed.

  Gretchen cried out in pain. She squirmed, trying to break free but his grip was like iron. He pressed his face against her neck, kissing her roughly, his teeth leaving marks in her soft flesh.

  “That’s it,” he breathed into her ear. “Fight. I like my women feisty.”

  Cold horror washed over Gretchen as the import of his words sank in. Then hot on the heels of that came anger. Who the hell did this guy think he was? How dare he touch her!

  “I’ll never be yours!” she hissed.

  Then, calling to mind all the self-defense classes her mom had sent her to, she rammed her knee into his groin with all her might.

  De Clare grunted and doubled over, releasing his grip on her wrists. She slammed her elbow into his chin in an upper-cut. He staggered backwards and fell onto his backside.

  “Bitch!” he growled. “You’ll pay for that.”

  Gretchen spun on her heel and ran. Her heart thumped, her breath labored in her throat. She risked a glanced behind and realized he wasn’t following. He was standing in front of the gate, watching her go. Then, very deliberately, he smiled at her and ran a finger across his throat.

  Fear lent urgency to her steps. She flew along the path through the field, not paying attention to where she was going, only knowing that she had to run, had to get away.

  EWAN SLAMMED HIS SWORD against Connail’s, sparks flying from the blade. Connail staggered back a step and Ewan followed, hammering his weapon against his brother’s in a succession of blows, pouring his fury into the strokes.

  “Hold!” Connail bellowed, holding up a hand. “I yield!”

  Panting, Ewan backed off, letting his sword point drop to the ground. Connail leaned over, hands on knees, pulling in great breaths.

  “What’s got into ye?” he said, looking up at Ewan. “This is supposed to be training, not trying to kill me!”

  “Do ye reckon the MacFarlanes will go easy on ye in battle?” Ewan snapped.

  Connail straightened. His eyes narrowed. “I dinna think yer temper has anything to do with the MacFarlanes,” he said. “What’s really bothering ye? Does this have anything to do with Gretchen?”

  Ewan glared at his brother. Then he sighed. “She doesnae want me, Connail. She’s made it clear she wants to leave.”

  “So ye asked her to stay?”

  “Nay.”

  “Nay? But ye did tell her how ye feel like I suggested?”

  Ewan glowered at Connail. “Nay. I didnae do that either. I dinna want to make a fool of myself.”

  Connail shook his head. “Brother, ye are a fool. How do ye know she doesnae want ye if ye’ve not told her how ye feel? If ye’ve not given her the choice?”

  Ewan slammed his sword back into its scabbard. “I dinna remember asking for yer advice,” he snapped. “And I’d thank ye to keep yer nose out of my business!”

  With that, he strode off, leaving Connail behind. He wasn’t sure where he was going, he just had to move. Sparring with Connail had done nothing to improve his mood, in fact, his brother’s advice had made it worse, even though he knew his brother was right.

  GRETCHEN STUMBLED ALONG the river bank. Her thoughts whirled. What was she to do? She longed to retreat to her room and lock the door but she daren’t return to the castle in case she bumped into Richard de Clare again.

  She spotted a figure walking along the riverbank towards her and froze. She spun around in a panic, looking for a means of escape.

  The figure raised a hand. “Gretchen!”

  Gretchen’s breath left her in a rush of relief. It was Ewan. She placed her hand against the trunk of a willow tree, breathing heavily.

  “Gretchen?” Ewan asked, jogging to her side. “What’s wrong?”

  “I...um...I...” Gretchen stammered.

  His expression hardened. “Lass, ye are worrying me. Tell me what’s wrong. Now.” It was a tone that brooked no argument.

  She shook her head. How was she supposed to tell him about Richard de Clare?

  He laid a gentle hand on her arm. “Gretchen, has something happened? Ye are clearly distressed. Ye must tell me. Please.”

  She looked up at him, at his clear, honest gaze. She took in a breath and began to speak. She told Ewan of the first time she’d had a run-in with de Clare in the kitchen and then of the time he’d propositioned her in the bailey and then finally what he’d done by the gate.

  Ewan listened in silence, his expression growing steadily darker.

  “That bastard,” Ewan growled when she’d finished. “I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him.”

  His eyes flashed with pure fury and Gretchen caught her breath. She found herself a little afraid.

  “Please don’t do anything stupid, Ewan,” she said. “He’s a powerful man, with powerful allies.”

  “Ye think I care?” Ewan snapped. “I promised to protect ye when I brought ye here. I swore ye’d be safe within my clan. But yer not and it’s my fault. I’ll put it right, Gretchen. I must. Come, let’s get ye safely back inside.”

  He held out his arm and Gretchen took it. As they made their way back to the castle Gretchen’s pounding heart began to steady. She felt safe now Ewan was by her side.

  She only wished it could always be this way.

  FURY POUNDED THROUGH Ewan’s veins. It was so hot, so consuming, he could barely think. De Clare had tried to hurt Gretchen. Would have hurt her had she not fought him off.

  He escorted Gretchen back to her room, instructed a servant to
fetch his Aunt Jenna to sit with her, and then went looking for de Clare. His fists ached to hit something—preferably de Clare’s face. He reached the steps to the great hall and bounded up them two at a time, kicking open the door so it flung wide with an almighty boom. He paused in the doorway, eyes scanning the hall.

  There.

  Richard de Clare sat at the head table, gazing calmly at Ewan. Several of his men stood around him, all with weapons strapped to their hips. Merith sat by de Clare’s side.

  She climbed to her feet. “Ewan,” she said. “I’ve been expecting ye. Come forward so we might talk.”

  “Talk?” Ewan growled, striding across the room. “I’m not here to talk, Merith.” He pointed a finger at Richard de Clare. “That man attacked Lady Gretchen. We’ll settle this between ourselves right now. Step out here and face me!”

  He laid a hand on the hilt of his sword but several of de Clare’s men converged on him. Ewan punched the first one, knocking him down, and kicked the legs out from the second one but three more quickly grabbed him, yanking his hand from his sword hilt and holding him fast.

  “Stop this madness!” Merith barked. “Would ye draw steel in yer own hall?”

  “Aye,” Ewan growled. “I will, if ye’ll not mete out justice on him.”

  “Justice?” Merith said, her tone every bit as angry as Ewan’s own. “And what is justice? Ye bursting in here and trying to kill a man on the word of one woman? Is that yer notion of justice, Ewan Murray?”

  Ewan ground his teeth. “Ask him then. Ask him if he did what Gretchen claims.”

  “I dinna need to,” Merith asked. “He’s already admitted it.”

  “Surely ye don’t believe—” Ewan stumbled to a halt. “He’s done what?”

  “Richard came to me and told me what happened. He also said ye might be coming to look for him. I willnae have bloodshed in my clan, not for anyone, and especially not over a woman. Richard, tell him what ye told me.” Merith’s voice was hard and unyielding. In that moment she reminded Ewan of her father more than ever.

  Ewan glared at Richard de Clare as he rose to his feet. He itched to wipe that smug look off his face. He struggled but his captors held him fast.

  “I admit I made a mistake with Lady Gretchen,” Richard de Clare said. “It seems I mistook her interest for something more. Since her arrival, Lady Gretchen has been...friendly with me. When she accosted me by the postern gate I thought she’d decided to make good on that interest. After all, she wouldn’t be the first woman to try and find favor by snaring someone of my standing. So, I offered her what I thought she wanted and she went hysterical.” He shrugged as though this was all some silly misunderstanding.

  “Ye are a liar,” Ewan growled. “Gretchen was never ‘friendly’ with ye, even though ye took an interest in her from the moment we arrived. I know what happened in the kitchen and then again in the forecourt. Ye thought ye could take what ye wanted and now ye are telling lies to cover yer back. Come over here, Richard, and let’s settle this between us, warrior to warrior. Or are ye a coward who will hide behind my cousin?”

  Richard’s face went pale with fury. He opened his mouth to speak but Merith slapped her hand on the table.

  “Enough! I won’t have the two of ye squabbling like children! Dinna we have enough to deal with right now?” Her hard gaze fixed on Ewan. “Ye have only just returned to yer clan, cousin. Dinna force me to exile ye again by doing something stupid. Ye will take no reprisals against Richard. Do ye hear?”

  Before Ewan could reply she turned to Richard.

  “And ye will stay away from the Lady Gretchen. In fact ye’ll do more than that—ye’ll pen a letter of apology.” Richard de Clare began to speak but Merith cut him off. “No arguments! Ye’ll do it right this minute. And when ye’ve done that, ye’ll leave on long patrol. Some time out of the castle should give the two of ye a chance to calm down. Agreed?”

  Richard de Clare glared at Ewan. Ewan glared right back. Tension filled the room.

  “Yer laird has spoken!” Merith hissed. “Or would ye rather I toss the pair of ye into the cells? I said, agreed?”

  “Agreed,” Richard ground out.

  “Agreed,” Ewan said. “But if I hear of ye going within ten yards of Lady Gretchen, I’ll kill ye.”

  Richard watched him for a moment. “You know, you really should be more careful of the company you keep, Ewan. You are so ready to defend this woman and yet you know nothing about her. Where she’s from. Why she’s here. What her agenda is. Has she answered any of your questions? Other than some vague story about being from ‘America’, has she really explained who she is? For all you know she could be a spy sent here by our enemies. Think on that while I’m away.”

  Then he rose from the table, spun on his heel and left through a door at the back of the hall. After a moment his men released Ewan and followed their lord.

  Ewan watched them go, anger still simmering in his belly.

  Merith studied him from where she sat. “Ye were ever the hot-head, Ewan. Passion rules ye. It always has.”

  He looked at his cousin. She stared back. “Why do ye distrust me so?” he asked her. “What have I done to ye that ye would trust a snake like de Clare over me?”

  Her expression didn’t change but he thought he saw something flash in her eyes. Unease?

  The silence stretched between them. Just when Ewan thought Merith wouldn’t answer, she whispered. “It’s not what ye’ve done. It’s what ye might do.”

  “What do ye mean by that?”

  “Ye are the eldest male of the Murray line. Ye could claim the lairdship, if ye so wanted. There would be many who would support ye—a proven warrior or a woman? Who would ye want leading yer clan?”

  Ewan stared at her, stunned. “Ye think I’ve come to challenge ye? To take what rightfully belongs to ye and yer son?”

  “I dinna know what to think! All my life I’ve been surrounded by strong men—my father, my husband, ye and Connail. And all my life I’ve been measured against ye all. My father was mighty disappointed that I was not a boy and never let me forget it. Now ye come riding back here and the whispers start. Everyone watching me. Everyone waiting for me to make a mistake to prove a woman canna lead!”

  “So ye think I’ve come to take everything from ye? Is that what ye think of me?” Ewan said. “Is that the kind of man ye think I am?”

  Merith stared at him. “Do ye remember when we were children,” she said suddenly. “And we snuck into my father’s study?”

  “I remember,” Ewan replied. “We climbed up his bookcase trying to reach the maps he kept on top.”

  “And broke that bookcase,” Merith nodded. “My father was livid as I recall. But ye took the blame, said ye put me up to it. Ye got strapped if I remember aright.”

  “I was older than ye,” Ewan replied. “It wasnae right for ye to take the punishment. I should have known better than to lead ye astray.”

  A small smile creased Merith’s face. “Ye were ever the honorable one, Ewan.”

  “Merith, I’ve not come to cause ye trouble. I’ve come to take my place in the clan. My rightful place, which is by yer side. I’ll help ye. I’ll support ye. If only ye’ll trust me. Can ye do that?”

  Merith didn’t answer. Conflicting emotions crossed her face.

  “Merith, do ye trust me?” Ewan said again.

  At that moment the door burst open and Amy came running in. “Is it true?” she demanded. “Has Gretchen been hurt?”

  Ewan glanced at Amy then back to Merith. “Aye. Yer sister can fill ye in.”

  Then he spun on his heel and made his way to the stairs, taking them two at a time and hurrying through the corridors until he came to Gretchen’s door. He knocked none too gently. Jenna answered.

  “How is she?” he demanded, pushing the door open and sweeping in past his aunt.

  Gretchen was sitting in a chair by the window. Jenna placed her hands on her hips and frowned at Ewan.

  “As ye can see
, Lady Gretchen is fine. And it’s not seemly for ye to barge into a lady’s bedroom like this!”

  Ewan ignored his aunt. He had eyes only for Gretchen. Seeing her sent a twist of anguish through him. He was filled with a tangled mix of emotions—longing, sadness, anger, fear. His stomach churned with it all.

  “What...what happened?” Gretchen asked. She looked a little frightened.

  “Merith sent de Clare out on long patrol. He should be gone for a while. And he’ll keep well away from ye when he returns, this I swear.”

  Gretchen breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. I’m glad I won’t have to look over my shoulder all the time.”

  Ewan longed to reach out and fold her into his arms. He longed to protect her. But Jenna was watching and Gretchen herself had made her feelings clear. “It’s not safe for ye to go beyond the castle,” he said abruptly. “Ye’ll not leave it without my permission.”

  Gretchen raised her chin and her eyes flashed. “I beg your pardon? Are you ordering me around?”

  “Aye, I am. If ye go beyond the castle I canna protect ye and I’ll not have another situation like the one with de Clare.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “If ye’d have not been wandering where ye will, the situation would never have happened.”

  Her eyes widened, anger flaring in them. “Oh, so now it’s my fault he attacked me?”

  “That’s nay what I meant, lass. But my duties mean I canna be watching ye every hour of every day.”

  “I don’t need to be watched! I can take care of myself, thank you very much!”

  “Really? That’s not what it looked like to me.”

  “I’m sorry to have inconvenienced you,” Gretchen snapped, her voice sharp. “I’ll try to behave myself in future. Don’t let me keep you from your duties.”

  Ewan hesitated. He hadn’t meant his words to come out like that. Now Gretchen was angry and he didn’t know what to say to soothe her. Lord help him, but this lass made his head spin and his tongue tie itself in knots.