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

by Katy Baker

  “I....I’m sorry, lass,” he stammered. "I shouldnae have done that.”

  “Oh yes you should,” Lucy whispered. She stepped closer, so close that her breasts brushed his chest. "You most definitely should."

  What is happening to me? she thought. Even with Garth she had never felt such attraction. It made no sense. Andrew Harris was so far removed from the kind of man she thought she wanted. And yet... she had never felt more alive than that moment when he kissed her.

  He gently took hold of her hands, raised them to his lips and kissed them. "Ye are a wonder, Lucy. Whatever mischief Irene MacAskill has been up to, I'm mighty glad that she sent ye to us."

  "Watch out!" came Jamie's panicked cry.

  They turned just in time to see the ball flying towards them. Andrew pushed Lucy out of the way and then his hand snapped out, snatching the muddy ball from the air and getting sprayed with a fine shower of sand in the process.

  Jamie, who had obviously been sent to retrieve the ball, skidded to a halt several paces away, his eyes wide. “I...I’m sorry, laird,” he stammered. “We didnae mean to hit it so far.”

  Andrew’s expression had turned stony and Lucy bit her lip, waiting for the eruption of anger.

  It didn't come. Instead, Andrew examined the ball.

  "Call that a hit?" he said to Jamie. “I’ll show ye what a real hit looks like. Come on.”

  He took Lucy's hand, tucked the ball under his arm and then set off along the beach towards the game. The children had paused and were watching the laird warily. Jamie ran ahead, grinning and shouting for them to make room for the laird.

  Andrew deposited Lucy with Annis and Donal and then followed Jamie down to the edge of the sea. There he took up the bat from the tall boy and instructed them to play again. Lucy sank down onto the grass and leaned back on her hands, watching the scene unfold in front of her.

  Andrew, far from the bad-tempered, gruff man she’d first encountered, laughed and joked with the children as though he did this sort of thing every day. For their part, the children were delighted to have their laird join in their game and their excited laughing and shrieking became loud enough to drown out even the cries of the seagulls.

  Captain Donal untied his sword belt and handed it to Annis. "Would ye look after this for me, lass?" he asked. "It seems the laird needs my help."

  Then, with a wink at the two of them, he headed down to the water to join in the game.

  Annis folded onto the grass beside Lucy. "I must be dreaming," she said. "Because it looks as though our laird is down there playing with the children."

  Lucy laughed and put her arm around her friend’s shoulders. "Well, if you're dreaming then it’s a good dream. Let's enjoy it a little longer before we wake up eh?”

  "Yes," Annis agreed. "Let's. It's been a most... unusual day."

  “STRIKE!” ANDREW CALLED.

  “Nay fair!” Captain Donal responded. "I've only just joined the game and didnae know the rules!"

  Andrew raised an eyebrow and looked around at his team. "What do ye think? Should we give the captain another go?"

  The children chorused a resounding yes and Donal took up his position once more.

  Over on the hillock Lucy and Annis were laughing at them. Andrew realized he was grinning. He felt something he hadn’t in a long time. Happiness.

  And it was all because of Lucy Jennings.

  Whatever the reason for her being here, since the moment she’d walked into his life, everything had changed. She’d brought chaos, disorder, confusion. But also light and life and laughter.

  The afternoon passed in a haze of easy companionship. Lucy and Annis came to join in the game and as the afternoon waned people started venturing down from the castle to watch. Even Mona came out and stood at the top of the steps with arms crossed and a look of wonder on her face.

  Finally, the parents began fetching their children and, with much reluctance, the children trudged back towards the castle. Andrew joined them with Lucy, Aniss and Donal, Jamie running along beside them. Jamie managed to commandeer the bat and ball and now he was busy trying to see how long he could keep the ball in the air before it dropped into the sand.

  "Phew!" Andrew said, wiping his brow. "I dinna know how the women of the clan do it. One afternoon with the clan children and I'm as exhausted as if I'd been on patrol all day."

  "Ask some of the women to swap duties," Lucy said. "You can do the child-minding, they can go out on patrol. I'm sure they'd jump at the chance."

  “There’s Ian,” Donal said as they approached the gates. "What's he doing here? He's supposed to be out on long patrol."

  Ian saw them approaching and broke into a run. A spike of alarm went through Andrew.

  “What is it, man?” he demanded when Ian reached them. "What's happened?"

  “Another raid, laird!” Ian panted. “A few miles to the north.”

  Andrew went cold. "When?”

  “This afternoon, laird. There was some trouble. Malcolm tried to stop them and was injured in the process. It's bad, my laird."

  Andrew’s stomach clenched. "Saddle the horses!” he bellowed to the garrison atop the gate. "Ready the men to ride out!”

  Donal and Ian sprinted through the gate. Andrew paused long enough to give a brief bow to Lucy and Annis and then hurried after them. He gritted his teeth and his hands clenched into fists. This was his fault. He was the laird. Who was he to think he could spend the afternoon playing stupid children's games?

  He should have known better.

  Chapter 13

  "I'M SURE IT'S NOTHING," Annis said. "They’ll be back before we know it. Malcolm will be fine. "Ye’ll see.”

  Her expression, however, belied her confident words. She kept glancing towards the gates as though Donal and Andrew might stride back through it any moment.

  "Come on," Lucy said to Annis. "Let's get inside. It's nearly time for the evening meal. I don't know about you but I'm starving!"

  A strange atmosphere permeated the Great Hall. Having heard the news of the raid many of the castle's inhabitants and some of the villagers had gathered inside to await news. There were more children than normal, most still excited from their games on the beach. Their eager chatter combined with the nervousness of the adults made for an odd combination.

  Lucy was about to go up to her room but paused with her foot on the step. She didn't want to leave Annis or the others whilst they were so wound up, and, truth be told, she didn't really want to be alone.

  "Could I...could I eat dinner down here? With the rest of you?"

  Annis's eyes lit up. "That would be grand! I'm sure Mona and Dougie will be mighty glad to see ye."

  Annis took Lucy's hand and led her towards the far end of the hall. Mona and Dougie were standing by the high table, Dougie shaking his head and Mona pursing her lips as they heard an account from one of the guardsmen about where Andrew had ridden off to. Dougie clapped the young man on the shoulder.

  "Ye've done well, lad, and I'm sure our laird will be back soon. Now find yerself a seat and there'll be food and drink shortly."

  The young guardsman hurried off and Mona surveyed the hall. "Annis, there ye are! Go and tell cook there'll be a few extra mouths to feed tonight. I doubt any of the villagers will go home until we get word from the laird." Annis rushed to do Mona's bidding and the housekeeper's gaze settled on Lucy instead. "Come on, dear. Come sit by me and Dougie. Mayhap if they see us calm the others will settle down a bit."

  Mona guided Lucy to a table by the fireplace. It wasn't the head table— nobody sat there when Andrew wasn't in attendance—but close enough that it could be seen from everywhere in the hall. Mona took the middle seat whilst Lucy and Dougie flanked her. Gradually the hubbub in the hall began to die down as people took their seats. The meal was served in short order. It was some kind of stew—not haggis thankfully—but Lucy barely tasted it.

  Lucy ate woodenly but before she knew it her bowl was empty and she pushed it away. She looke
d around, chewing on her thumbnail. Worry for Andrew made it difficult to concentrate on anything.

  The atmosphere in the hall had become subdued. People talked but barely above a whisper and even the children had fallen silent. Jamie sat with the tall boy and his family, slouching in his chair and staring disconsolately at his feet. This was no good. She had to do something. These people had been kind to her, welcoming. She had to pay them back somehow. Her eyes alighted on the fiddle attached to the wall. It looked as though it hadn't been used for a while but it might be just about serviceable. An idea came to her.

  "Dougie," she said. "Might I take a closer look at that instrument?"

  Dougie's eyebrows rose. "Aye, lass. If ye want to. But I warn ye, that thing has become more decoration than instrument the last few years. It's not been played since Laird Harris's mother's time."

  "Well, it's about time it was resurrected then isn't it?"

  She got up from the table, crossed to the fireplace where the fiddle hung and carefully took it down. Even though it was old and a little battered, it was solid and in good condition—Mona's meticulous cleaning regime had seen to that. She placed it on her shoulder and experimentally plucked the strings—then winced at the noise.

  Dougie chuckled. "I warned ye, lass! It sounds like a sick cat!"

  Not to be deterred, Lucy looked closely at the strings. They were worn, true, but should still be serviceable. The bow too, ought to be just about okay. She diligently began tuning it.

  When she was happy she'd got it tuned as well as she could she set the fiddle to her shoulder again, picked up the bow and began to play. Rather than sounding like a sick cat, this time the notes were perfect. As she continued to play her eyes slid closed and she let the music carry her away. She played a few classical pieces that Uncle Nathan had taught her, swaying gently as the bow moved over the strings. Boy, it was good to be playing again. Since the visit of the musicians a few weeks ago she'd not played at all—and wow, had she missed it.

  Finally the piece came to an end. As the last strains died into silence, Lucy opened her eyes.

  Everyone was staring at her.

  The Great Hall had gone utterly silent and everyone watched her with wide eyes. Lucy blushed to her hairline. She'd been so caught up in the music that she hadn't realized she'd taken up position right in front of the fireplace, in full view of the whole hall. Hell, she might as well have set up a stage!

  "I...um...." Lucy stammered. "That's Mozart. He's um...famous....where I come from."

  Embarrassed, she took the instrument from her shoulder and was about to re-hang it on the wall when somebody at the back of the hall shouted, "More!"

  There were nods of agreement. "Play something else!"

  Annis, Mona and Dougie were watching her with broad smiles on their faces. They nodded at her encouragingly.

  "Aye, lass," Dougie said. "Ye have a rare gift. Play us some more!"

  She looked at the sea of expectant faces. How would it be different to any normal gig?

  "Okay, but if I'm going to play, I expect you all to join in!”

  She launched into one of the many sea shanties she'd learned over the years. She played the first few bars—a lively tune that had her tapping her foot after the first few notes—and then broke into song. The words were simple, the chorus repetitive, and in her experience there was no better way to get an audience involved in a performance. She glanced up to see that almost everyone was either nodding or drumming their foot along to the music. Annis and Mona were clapping in time.

  Lucy got to the end of the song, took the fiddle from her shoulder and put her hands on her hips, glowering down at her audience.

  "What happened?" she asked. "I thought I said you had to join in? You must all know the chorus by now but I didn't hear a single one of you singing along! Well, we'll just have to try again won't we?"

  She was enjoying herself now. If there was one thing she was good at, it was making her audience have a good time. She struck up the tune again, singing so loud nobody could fail to make out the words. This time, when she reached the chorus she shouted, "Everybody!"

  Much to her delight, a good many of the audience sang along with her. Their voices, old and young, high and low, sweet and gravelly, all mingled together until it sounded as though a choir—albeit a rustic one—was going through their repertoire in the Great Hall. Finally, amid much laughing, the song came to an end.

  "You are all naturals!" Lucy said to the crowd. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you've all done this before."

  "Aye," said Mona. "Many of us have—us oldies at least. Lady Harris was a fine musician, and we used to have many a sing along in this very hall. Ah, tis good to hear the rafters echoing with music again."

  Dougie climbed to his feet and grabbed a couple of spoons off the table. He cracked them against his thigh a few times, eliciting a little tune. "Fancy some accompaniment, lass?"

  Lucy raised an eyebrow. "You play the spoons, Dougie?"

  He shrugged, looking a little embarrassed. "Aye, and the fiddle too in my younger days. My old hands are a little stiff for that nowadays."

  At the urging of his fellows another man stood up at the back of the hall and produced a small wooden flute from a pocket.

  "If it please ye, my lady, I could accompany ye as well."

  Lucy laughed in delight and beckoned him and Dougie forward. "Look at us!" she exclaimed. "We have a band!"

  Mona clapped her hands together. "Right!" she said in her brusque manner. "Move some of the tables! It’s time to get dancing!"

  Soon a space had been cleared in the center of the hall. Lucy, Dougie and the other man—whose name was Rory—conferred and decided that Lucy would take the lead whilst Dougie provided a rhythm with his spoons and Rory added a melody over the top with his flute. There was no guarantee it would work of course—she'd never played with them before and these spontaneous jamming sessions could either be wonderful or utterly disastrous—but great fun either way.

  As Lucy and the others struck up their tune, Mona and several of the other women hurried into the middle of the floor. They formed a square and began moving through a series of movements that were mirror images of each other. Before long others joined them and some of the women dragged up reluctant men to join in. Excited children mimicked the adults, some knowing the moves better than others. It reminded Lucy of the barn dances her aunt and uncle had dragged her to when she was little except this had a decidedly Scottish flavor.

  Jamie came running up and skidded to a halt in front of Lucy, slightly out of breath. "Are ye going to play at the summer fair, Lady Lucy?" he gasped. “Laurie reckons ye should and I agree with him! They would love ye there, I'm sure of it!"

  Lucy smiled down at him. "I haven't really thought about it, Jamie. You'll have to tell me more about the summer fair after the dancing is done, yes?"

  Jamie nodded enthusiastically and raced off, joining the tall boy who must be Laurie and some of the other children who were holding hands and dancing around in a circle.

  As they finished playing the dancers came to a halt, laughing and breathless. The atmosphere in the hall was completely different to only an hour ago. Gone was the tension, gone was the worry on the faces of the clan’s people. Instead they were smiling, and the air was filled with excited chatter.

  Rory and Dougie grinned at Lucy.

  “My, that was fun!" said Dougie.

  “It was indeed," Rory agreed, cleaning his flute with the sleeve of his tunic. "What say we play some Skye classics?"

  "Aye," Dougie said. Then he turned to Lucy. "Do ye think ye'll be able to keep up with us, lass?"

  Lucy raised her eyebrow in mock outrage. "Is that a challenge? You just play me the first couple of bars and you'll see whether I can keep up or not!"

  Dougie grinned then nodded to Rory. He set his flute to his lips and played the first few bars of a tune that had a decidedly folk feel to it. She recognized it as Auld Sweet Rosie, the same tune the musicia
ns had played at Laird Garrick’s feast. Lucy listened intently, head cocked to one side. She had Rory play it a second time until she was pretty sure she had the notes down. Then she set the bow to the fiddle and mimicked what Rory had played.

  The two men exchanged glances. "Perfect," said Rory. "The flute leads on this one and Dougie can give us the rhythm with his spoons.”

  The clan’s people were waiting expectantly, eager for their next dance.

  Rory nodded to Lucy and Dougie. "Ready?"

  They nodded. "Ready."

  This time, the tune was one that everyone clearly knew. As the first notes filled the hall, there was a cheer and everybody, even those still seated, pushed back their chairs and made their way into the center of the hall. The men formed one line, the women another, facing each other and began a series of complicated gestures that involved them taking each other's hands and turning in circles before moving on to the next person in the line.

  After the first few bars Dougie started singing. The words were in Gaelic and Lucy couldn't understand any of it but it was obviously a fun song rather than a serious one. Dougie had a decent singing voice.

  Down on the hall floor the dancers whirled and spun, and clapped and kicked, moving in time as though they'd done this many times before. Lucy found herself laughing with joy. She might even go and join them a little later but now she was content to play the fiddle and enjoy watching them having fun.

  Suddenly the door burst open, slamming against the inner wall so hard that plaster came raining down. The dancers paused, turning to the doorway in surprise. A hush settled over the crowd and Lucy craned her neck trying to see over them.

  Andrew stood in the doorway, Captain Donal and some of his other men flanking him. He was dressed for riding, wearing thick gloves and cloak and with many weapons strapped around him.

  He did not look happy. His face was pale with fury and Lucy saw how the veins in his neck stood out as he clenched his teeth. He looked out over the gathering with a frosty gaze.

  "What is this?" he said in a deathly quiet voice.