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

by Katy Baker

  Pulling in a deep breath she knocked on the door. Footsteps echoed on the other side and she heard Aunt Helen's voice through the wood.

  "Don't you go putting that thing back on my table Nathan Woods! You hear?"

  Then the door opened and Aunt Helen stood there, blinking in the gloomy light.

  Lucy smiled sheepishly. "Surprise!"

  Aunt Helen's mouth dropped open. "Lucy! What are you doing here? We didn't expect you back so soon!"

  So soon? What did Aunt Helen mean by that? She'd been gone for months!

  But Aunt Helen didn't give her the chance to ask questions. "And why did you knock? Have you lost your keys again? You should have phoned and let us know you were coming home. Nathan would have picked you up from the airport."

  She paused, noticing the look on Lucy's face. "What is it, dear? You look like you've seen a ghost!"

  "I just missed you guys, that's all." Lucy stepped forward and crushed her aunt into a tight embrace.

  "Missed us?" Aunt Helen said, wrapping her arms around Lucy and holding her close. "But you've only been gone three weeks!"

  Three weeks! How could that be?

  Lucy stepped back. A hundred questions filled her mind but right now none of them seemed to matter. "It's so good to see you."

  "Well, it's good to see you too, my dear. I'm flattered that you'd miss me so much in so short a time." Her eyes fell on Lucy's dress. "My, that's a little fancy isn't it, dear? Don't tell me that orchestra made you wear formal dress the whole time?"

  "No, nothing like that," Lucy said quickly. "We wore traditional costumes for some of the shows, you know, those where we played a lot of traditional Scottish music. They let me keep this one."

  Aunt Helen nodded. "Well you can tell us all about it over dinner. Your timing is perfect. I was just about to dish up. Come on."

  She took Lucy by the elbow and steered her into the house. "Nathan! Look who's come home!"

  Uncle Nathan stood as Lucy walked into the kitchen. His eyes lit up. "Well there's a sight for sore eyes! Don't tell me: you had enough of the Scottish weather? I hear it’s four seasons in one day over there!"

  Lucy nodded. "Something like that."

  Uncle Nathan cocked his head, a look of concern crossing his face. “I’ll bet you have a lot to tell us."

  "I do. More than you know."

  Uncle Nathan gave her one of his bone-crunching hugs. "Your aunt has made your favorite. Anyone would think she had a sixth sense about you coming home tonight."

  Lucy took her usual seat at the table opposite Uncle Nathan. Aunt Helen doled out the casserole from a huge pot, giving Lucy an extra-large portion and adding two huge dumplings on top.

  "Wow!" Lucy said, laughing. "That's enough to feed a football team!"

  "Well, it's not every day your favorite niece comes home, is it?" Aunt Helen replied.

  Lucy rolled her eyes. "I'm your only niece!"

  "Well that makes it extra special doesn’t it?"

  Lucy tucked into the meal and soon realized she was famished. She also discovered how much she'd missed Aunt Helen's cooking. The food at Dun Arnwick had been delicious but there was just something about home cooking you couldn’t beat.

  Aunt Helen and Uncle Nathan remained silent during the meal, allowing Lucy to collect her thoughts but she knew by the worried glances they kept aiming in her direction that they were concerned about her. After all, the concert tour had supposed to last three months and here she was back after only three weeks by their reckoning.

  Three weeks! She still couldn't get used to that. Irene MacAskill clearly held more power than Lucy realized. If she wanted, could she erase the whole episode? Could she put Lucy back right at the start? Right to the moment when she'd first spotted Irene MacAskill watching her playing? That way everything at Dun Arnwick would never have happened.

  She'd never have met Andrew Harris.

  Finally she finished the casserole and pushed her plate away. Aunt Helen and Uncle Nathan watched her expectantly.

  "Well?" Aunt Helen asked. "Aren't you going to tell us what happened? Are you back for good or on a leave of absence?"

  "I'm back for good," Lucy replied. "Things in Scotland didn't quite work out."

  Concern flashed in Aunt Helen's eyes. She reached out and took hold of Lucy's hand. "You know you can tell your uncle and me anything."

  Right, Lucy thought. Like I can tell you I've actually been gone for eight months. Like I can tell you I've spent that time living in the sixteenth century, that I fell in love with a guy and that he broke my heart. As if I can tell you that some kind of witch or fairy sent me back to you only three weeks after I left!

  Her aunt and uncle were looking at her expectantly. She had to tell them something. She decided that a version of the truth would be best.

  "Things got complicated. I met...a man... but it didn't work out. I thought it best I return home."

  "Oh, Lucy," Aunt Helen said, squeezing her hand. "I'm so sorry. Well, whoever he was, he was a damned idiot to let you slip through his fingers!"

  Lucy gave a wan smile. Yes, she thought. Andrew Harris is an idiot. But oh, how I miss him.

  ANDREW OPENED HIS EYES to blazing sunshine. It slanted into his eyes from between high walls that hemmed him in. The stench of rotten food wafted from somewhere nearby.

  Andrew rolled onto his stomach and then climbed groggily to his feet. His first effort at time travel had left him feeling a little woozy. He placed his hand against a wall to steady himself and looked around. He was in an alleyway. A rusted metal archway loomed above him with chains hanging from it. Large metal bins stood along one side and it was from here that the smell emanated. High walls, almost as high as those of Dun Arnwick towered over him on either side. At the end of the alleyway a metal gate stood open.

  Andrew had no idea where he was. Irene hadn't given much information on where he'd end up. All he knew was that he was now in Lucy's time, five hundred years from where he should be. He pushed that thought aside. Best not to dwell on it lest he lose his courage completely.

  He'd made a vow that he'd find Lucy whatever it took. Wherever and whenever she was. Nothing else mattered.

  Straightening his shoulders, he drew in a deep breath, and strode down the alleyway and through the metal gate. Chaos greeted him. At the end of the alleyway was a street much like the ones found at the summer fair. Only this street was wider, longer, and busier. Far, far busier.

  There were people everywhere. Great crowds of them hurried along on either side, talking in loud voices into small black boxes, listening to little white buds stuck in their ears or chatting with friends. The middle of the street was filled with big metal boxes that hurtled along at terrifying speeds. Many of these boxes bore big signs saying "taxi", whatever that meant.

  And the noise!

  Andrew had never heard anything like it. Even the most raucous of market days couldn't compare to this. The metal boxes growled like angry beasts and blared horns louder than the loudest battle-charge. The conversation of the people filled the air with an incessant chatter.

  Andrew staggered, catching himself on the metal gate. Lucy's time was so busy! So many people. So many sights and sounds. How did she stand it? Dun Arnwick suddenly felt very, very far away.

  Pull yerself together, man, he growled to himself. Are ye not a warrior? Are ye not here for yer lady? Then act like it instead of like some frightened child!

  The thought steadied him a little. Wherever and whenever she was.

  Gritting his resolve, Andrew stepped out into the sea of people. He soon found himself swept along with the rest. The shops he passed were glass-fronted and held all manner of goods—most of which Andrew had no name for.

  How, by all that's holy, was he supposed to find Lucy in this?

  Ahead of him a woman was struggling under the heavy weight of bulging bags. Suddenly one of them split and her goods went spilling all over the ground. The crowd parted around her, nobody stopping to help.
<
br />   Andrew knelt and began picking up the scattered items. "Are ye all right? Do ye need some assistance?"

  The woman looked to be in her middle years and wore a pair of trews like a man. She raised an eyebrow as she took in his Harris plaid and his exposed biceps.

  "Yeah," she said. "If you would help me get this stuff to my car I'd be grateful."

  He followed the woman a few feet up the street to where a metal box was parked. She opened a hatch at the back and indicated for Andrew to place her items inside.

  "Thanks," she said. "That was kind of you."

  "Ye are welcome.”

  "I'm guessing you're not from around here?”

  "Nay, I'm newly arrived from Scotland." He shrugged. "This is all a little confusing."

  The woman opened one of her bags and rooted about inside. Then she handed him a large folded piece of paper. "Tourist map. Should help you get your bearings."

  Andrew took it. "My thanks. Tell me, do ye know where I might find Lady Lucy Jennings?"

  The woman shook her head. "Sorry, don’t know the name.”

  Andrew's heart sank. How was he to find Lucy? He didn't even know where to start. "Good day."

  As he began walking, he opened the map to try and figure out where he was. He glanced up at a street name then found this marked on the map. Good, at least he had some rough idea of where he was.

  Eventually the street opened out into a large square filled with people. Many were sitting and eating, others lounged around talking into those small black boxes he'd seen so many with, others were hurrying across the square on their way to some place else. Andrew turned in a slow circle, taking it all in. Then he heard it.

  From somewhere nearby came the sound of the fiddle. And the song was unmistakably Auld Sweet Rosie. He would recognize it anywhere.

  His heart suddenly thundered in his chest. Lucy! It must be!

  With a new sense of purpose, he set off in the direction of the sound.

  NOBODY WAS PAYING LUCY any attention. The square was busy but everybody seemed to have something better to do than stop and listen to a street musician. Still, it didn't bother Lucy. In the three days since she'd returned home she had been out each day to play. It was the best way to get back into the routine of things.

  Rather than her guitar, she was playing the violin today. The music seemed to fly from her fingers more naturally than ever. She swayed slowly as she played. A couple passing by tossed a few coins into her violin case and she called a thank you.

  It had been a strange few days. Aunt Helen had fussed around her like a mother hen, clearly pleased to have her home but also equally worried about her. She'd asked countless questions and Lucy had been hard-pressed to think of answers that wouldn't give away the truth. She wasn't quite sure she'd succeeded. She'd caught Aunt Helen watching her with a quizzical expression on several occasions and she consulted her tarot cards more than ever, much to Uncle Nathan's disdain.

  It turned out to be a bittersweet homecoming. She was delighted to see her aunt and uncle again, never realizing just how much she'd missed them. It had been wonderful to catch up with old friends, visit the places she'd missed, taste coffee again. Things like that.

  But she missed Dun Arnwick. She missed Dougie's grin, Mona's hen-pecking, Annis's bright laugh, Jamie's mischievousness.

  And she missed Andrew. She missed everything about him, his smell, his taste, his touch.

  She sighed and began playing another tune. It took a moment for her to realize she was playing Auld Sweet Rosie. How had that happened? No wonder she wasn't making much money today! An old Highland tune was hardly the kind of thing a set of city kids wanted to hear during their lunch break, was it?

  But she couldn't bring herself to stop playing. The song reminded her of good times. Of playing in the Great Hall with Dougie and Rory. Of walking along the beach with Annis and Jamie. Of gossiping with Mona whilst they folded sheets.

  Of lying in Andrew’s arms.

  The song ended and she paused, staring into space as memories flooded her.

  "That sounds just as beautiful if yer time as it does in mine, love."

  At the sudden voice, Lucy jumped as though she'd been stung. She spun around, heart lurching, eyes widening in disbelief.

  Andrew Harris stood there, looking down at her.

  She must be dreaming. Lord help her, she must be. Either that or she'd finally cracked. She opened her mouth and closed it a few times. She felt rooted to the spot, frozen. How could Andrew be here? How could he be smiling at her in that way that melted her heart?

  He couldn’t. She was hallucinating.

  Lucy squeezed her eyes tight shut, felt the wild beating of her heart, and counted slowly to five. Then she opened her eyes again.

  He was still there, head cocked to one side. "I'm no spirit or apparition, Lucy. I'm real. I'm here."

  "What...what...?" she croaked. Her voice came out in a hard rasp. "What are you doing here?"

  "I came for ye, Lucy. To make amends. To make things right."

  It was too much. She'd spent the last few days trying to forget this man and now here he was standing right in front of her in twenty-first century New York! Something snapped.

  “Leave me alone!” she yelled. “Who the hell do you think you are coming here? You have no right!”

  Shock and hurt flicked across Andrew’s face. This was not the reaction he’d expected.

  So what was he expecting? Lucy thought. That I’d fall back into his arms? That I’d let him trample all over me and then walk right back into my life?

  Andrew took a few steps toward her, holding out a hand. “Listen to me, love. Please. If ye give me a chance to explain—”

  “No! You had your chance and you blew it!” Andrew had hurt her in the end, just like Garth. She should never have let him get close. “Go away!” she yelled. “I never want to see you again!”

  Then she clutched her violin to her chest, spun on her heel and ran.

  "LUCY!" ANDREW BELLOWED as she sprinted away from him.

  She didn't listen. She didn't slow. She ran. Ran from him. The sight of it turned Andrew's stomach into knots. Then his resolve hardened. What had he expected? That she would welcome him? After the way he'd treated her? His Lucy was strong and wild. It would take more than words to win her over.

  He ran after her. She careened through the square, bumping into people and not pausing to offer apologies. But Andrew was faster. His strides were longer and he'd trained every day of his life. He soon gained on her.

  Lucy was coming to the edge of the square. Beyond this was one of those long lanes full of moving metal boxes. Lucy would have to stop. Only she didn't. She wasn’t paying any attention to her surroundings. Instead of skidding to a halt as Andrew expected she carried right on, out into the lane of metal boxes.

  A jolt of pure terror went through Andrew. "Lucy!"

  She halted and looked around, seeming to realize where she was for the first time. Her eyes widened in fear. One of those yellow boxes was bearing down on her at great speed honking its horn.

  Instinct took over. Andrew launched himself into the lane. He felt the growl and grumble of the metal box as he flashed in front of its churning wheels. He smashed into Lucy, pushing her onto the safety of the walkway.

  Then he heard a screech and a thump. His entire body erupted into agony. Then he knew no more.

  Chapter 19

  SOMEONE WAS SINGING. It was a female voice and so beautiful it wrapped around Andrew in the darkness like a warm cocoon. He recognized the song only he couldn’t quite put a name to it. He followed the singing upwards, back towards the light.

  He opened his eyes and found himself looking up at a white ceiling with a light in the middle brighter than any candle flame. The singing stopped but something held his hand tightly.

  “Andrew?” a voice cried. “Are you awake?”

  His heart lurched as Lucy’s face hovered into view. Her hair fell forward, tickling his forehead. Her eyes
were filled with tears.

  “Oh my God, Andrew!” she kissed him on the forehead. “I was so worried!”

  He turned his head slowly and discovered he was in a bed in a square room with white walls. Several odd contraptions sat around his bed making beeping noises. Most of them appeared to be attached to his body.

  “Where am I?”

  Lucy’s grip on his hand tightened. He flexed his own fingers, returning the grasp. Lord, it felt good to touch her again.

  “You’re in hospital,” she said. “Andrew, I’m so sorry!”

  “Sorry, love? For what?”

  “For causing this. For you getting hurt. If you hadn’t come after me none of this would have happened.”

  He looked at her sternly. “And it would have been ye lying here instead of me, love. I would never let that happen.”

  “But... but..”

  “But nothing. It’s my duty to protect ye and I will, whether ye like it or no.”

  He tried to sit up but groaned and flopped back onto the bed. “What was that thing that hit me? It feels like I’ve been trampled by a warhorse.”

  “It was a car and it’s far more dangerous than any warhorse. You could have been killed and it would have been all my fault!” Her beautiful eyes filled with tears again.

  “Hush, lass,” he said, squeezing her hand. “Dinna worry. All will be well, I promise. I’m still in one piece and more importantly, I’ve found ye. That’s what matters. Although I didnae think I’d have to go to these extremes to get ye to talk to me.”

  She dashed the tears away and smiled weakly. “The doctors reckon you’ll be okay to leave soon. You have some broken ribs, a concussion and lots of bruising. You’ll be sore for a while.”

  Sore wasn’t the half of it. Andrew felt like some farmwife’s kitchen rug that had been strung on a line and beaten. He wasn’t going to let Lucy know that though. “I’m fine, love. I’ve had worse than this training in the lists.”