“How exactly are you related to him?”
“Cousins. My mother was Hugh’s father’s sister.”
“So, your mother was a duke’s daughter. And she married a…?”
“Interested in titles now are we, lass?” he asked, recovering his humor. “My father is the Earl of Cairn.”
Al bit back a laugh. Of course he was an earl’s son. Didn’t that just figure? She couldn’t have been any further off when she’d labeled him a barbarian. But all the blood she’d seen on both him and Hugh hadn’t only been blue.
“Why were you out there that day when the wormhole opened?”
“Fighting in the battle.” His look said she should have known that. But she knew nothing.
“Which battle?”
“It dinnae hae a name. ‘Twas a battle fought to secure the throne for the Bonny Prince Charlie.”
“Bonny Prin…” A jolt of surprise. “Culloden? Are you shitting me?”
He wrinkled his nose. “Nay, lass, wh—”
“Joking? Kidding?”
“Nay. The battle was fought nae far from Culloden.”
“Holy shit,” she muttered again. She was right in the middle of history in the making! How strange and thrilling.
“Ye keep saying this,” he said. “Blessed excrement?”
Al blinked and squinted up at him. “What? No. It’s just an expression. Never mind. Tell me more about what’s happening around here.”
“Nay, lass, ye’ve had yer turn. In all fairness, now I’ll hae mine.”
“A little quid pro quo, huh? Fine, we’ll play it that way,” she said, “but I’ll be wanting my turn again soon.”
Instead of getting angry as he’d done before, he only nodded. “Verra well.”
* * *
Keir tucked Al’s hand more firmly in the crook of his arm and they resumed aimlessly meandering the garden. Curiosity about her had kept him tossing and turning through the night. Part of him wanting to confront her in her bedchambers to pester her with the never-ending questions that plagued him. The other part refrained, knowing an interrogation would be the last thing that might occur between them if he came upon her with a bed nearby.
She’d been a vision of splendor when he’d first seen her in the garden after returning from his morning swim. The sun reflecting off her uncovered and unbound hair, the golden locks falling softly around the sweet curve of her rounded cheeks, over her shoulders and down her back in spiraling waves.
She was dressed informally in a bleached muslin gown with a brocaded casaca jacket over it. He’d only noticed this time because the deep V created by the jacket before a single button fastened it at her waist showed her cleavage to marvelous advantage.
Once more, she’d distracted him from pelting her with questions. He might have grown irritated with her, but it hadn’t taken long to realize that she wasn’t doing it on purpose. In fact, she seemed utterly unaware of her appeal.
Then she’d sidetracked him with words. Compelling descriptions of scanty swim apparel. Peculiar words of shite. Awe over noble titles.
All of it only made him more curious about her and the world she came from. So much so that the whys and hows of her arrival in this time were slipping in importance.
But he couldn’t let them pass entirely.
“I want ye tae tell me more aboot this worm hole ye spoke of. How did it take my cousin?”
The lass giggled, an unusual sound coming from her, and Keir glanced down to find her usually stormy gray eyes shiny like silverplate with humor. Her pale cheeks warmed, arousing him once more, but he tamped it down.
“It’s not a worm hole,” she said, stressing each word. “It’s a wormhole, one word.”
“Verra well. A wormhole. But what was it? How did ye create it? Where did it go? Tae the Colonies? Which colony? And what’s become of them in the days and years ahead?”
So many questions. His curiosity was insatiable.
“I’ll try to explain it to you if I can,” she said, pursing her lips. “But I’m afraid there’s no chance that a man like you will be able to understand the science of it all.”
Offense at her words drew him to a halt. No words could have insulted him more, though she hinted at the same again and again. It was time he explained a few things to her. “Madam, I am a fellow at the Royal Society, the Berlin Academy, and the youngest man e’er accepted tae the Académie des Sciences in Paris. I am a learned man of science, lass. Nae some drooling simpleton who cannae comprehend newfangled notions.”
* * *
With each clipped word, Keir’s accent grew thicker until his words were almost foreign. Certainly the string of Gaelic that rolled out after it was. But she got his meaning anyway. She had insulted him deeply.
A slap to his intelligence. Who knew that’s what a man 300 years in the past might be offended by? But wouldn’t she… hadn’t she reacted the same way when someone assumed the same of her? That she was unable to grasp complex technical information just because she was tiny and blonde?
“I’m sorry,” she said sincerely. “That was wrong of me. Are you really a member of all those organizations?”
“Aye.” He nodded curtly. Clearly not all was forgiven.
“Okay, I’ll try to explain it but feel free to ask for clarification.”
Al tried to gather her scattered thoughts. Intelligent he might be but these were theories in science that hadn’t even been considered at this point in time. Some of them might even get a scientist of this time imprisoned or excommunicated. Hell, his society wasn’t even fully heliocentric yet much less willing to except the blasphemy of time travel.
But if he wanted it, he’d get it. Taking a seat on one of the shaded benches placed throughout the garden, she faced him when he dropped down beside her.
A deep breath. “Okay, so I suppose the first thing you need to know is about the four dimensions.”
“Four?”
“Yes, there are four dimensions to every measurement. For example, say you’re riding your horse along the road, you can go forward and back along one axis.” She demonstrated the line using her hands, moving them out in front of her. “Left or right.” She moved from side to side. “Then up and down over a hill or whatever. Right?”
“That’s three.”
“The fourth is time.”
He frowned but nodded. “I hae nae considered this but it makes sense.”
“It’s a concept that’s still a couple hundred years away. So, I told you last night, a wormhole is a passageway through space. Each wormhole carries the potential to be a pathway through that fourth dimension.” Simplistic and perhaps not entirely scientific, but good enough. She was sure he would ask for more detail later on anyway.
“Each wormhole?”
“There are billions of them.”
“Verra well and where did ye find this wormhole?”
Al gnawed her lip. “Well, that’s a little tougher to explain and maybe harder to understand. Do you know what an atom is? No, probably not that wasn’t until…” She trailed off, thinking back to her most basic physics classes and searching for inspiration. Bending, she picked a flower from the garden and held it up between them. “Tell me, what is this flower made up of?”
“’Tis just a flower, lass.”
“Come on,” she urged.
“’Tis broken down tae the stem, petal, the stamin.”
“Good but go smaller.”
“The cells within? I hae seen them through the microscope, though I dinnae care much for botany. It was a favorite pastime of Euler’s.”
“Leonhard Euler?” she asked in distraction. “You knew him?”
“I know him,” he clarified. “He was my mentor while at the Académie des Sciences.”
Al was blown away. “Wow! Really? He’s a legend in history of mathematics. His work on the wave theory of light is—”
“Lass,” he warned. “Dinnae try tae turn the questions back tae yer own. I want tae understand.”
“Right, right. But if you know Leonhard Euler, I might just have to become your groupie.”
He just stared at her, clearly curious but refusing to be swayed from his line of questioning.
“Okay, where were we then? Oh, cells. Okay, go smaller.”
“There is nae smaller.”
“Yes, there is,” she told him, making a circle of her hands and closing it in as she spoke. “From cells we go down to molecules then down to atoms, smaller than any microscope you have yet can see. And even smaller than that—trillions and trillions sizes smaller—is the quantum arena. This is what we call the Planck scale. So small that even the most powerful microscope cannot see it. In fact, many think it is all theoretical. But there we find what is called the quantum foam. That is where wormholes exist.”
“What I saw was nae so wee.”
“No, at first our project was to enlarge the wormhole just enough to slip something tiny through,” she explained. “Using a burst of negative energy… I’ll get to that, we were able to enlarge it beyond what was thought possible. Not just a tiny hole no bigger than my little finger but one big enough…” Al scratched at the back of her earlobe uneasily and glanced away.
“Big enough for a man.”
“Yes. But the hardest part was in stabilizing it. Holding it open proved almost impossible.”
“Why?”
“Wormholes are naturally volatile. Think of soap bubbles. The way they form and pop. That’s what it’s like in the quantum foam. Wormholes are born and die in the matter of nanoseconds. Holding one and keeping it from collapsing was the challenge. That’s why I was brought in.” It was a bit like bragging but she couldn’t help herself. Despite the consequences, she was proud of her achievement. “The negative energy construct we developed was able to maintain it for almost a minute, which might not sound like a lot but was a pretty amazing accomplishment. After that it was a matter of being able to identify properties of the wormholes providing us information regarding its end point, harnessing those that might suit our needs, and using a massive electrical charge to steer the destination more exactly.”
She could sense the wealth of questions spinning through his mind, but it was the greatest and perhaps worst that he gave voice to.
“For what purpose?”
She grimaced. “There were many applications for the technology but specifically our ultimate goal was to transport goods or troops seamlessly from one spot on the planet. Travel through three dimensions.”
“But ye pierced the fourth?”
“Yes. By accident.”
Keir was silent for a long while, perhaps processing all she had told him. Or trying to make sense of it. At last he spoke, looking not at her but up at the blue sky. “Some of the greatest advances in science hae been made by accident. Most accidents e’en for a prupose. I suppose I can forgi’ yers since traveling through time maun be the grandest feat I can imagine.”
“It would be better if we could control it,” she pointed out.
“Aye, there is that.” He considered her with a smile. “Tell me more aboot how ye found this quantum foam if it is so wee. And what is this negative energy?”
With a laugh, she shook her head. “No, it’s my turn now. I want you to tell me how you met Leonhard Euler. And who else do you know?”
So, he told her about his studies throughout the Continent. Who he knew. Who he’d studied with. Enjoying the way her eyes would light with excitement when he mentioned names she was familiar with like Mitchell, Newton, and Hershel.
Never before had he met a woman interested in his scientific pursuits. Most ladies were lulled into boredom when he would talk of his experiments. Al soaked it all up, hanging on his every word much as he hung on hers. For hours, they talked of science, its changes and progression from his time to hers. Mathematics, physics, astronomy, biology. All of it until his mind was nearly exploding with the potential of what he might learn.
From a wee lass.
A brilliant wee lass.
Chapter 12
“I see ye’ve managed tae be entirely taken in by the wee witchy, hae ye?”
Al looked up to find Maeve hovering over them like a dark wraith. She was dressed much as she’d been the previous day but this time most of the dress itself was made from the tartan. A stark contrast to her elegantly gowned sister who stood by her side. With them as well were Keir’s brother Oran and another somberly dressed man she didn’t recognize.
The additional trio didn’t speak out in agreement of Maeve’s words. However, none of them appeared ready to argue with her either.
After such an enjoyable morning, the shiver of apprehension chilling her was unwelcome.
“I told ye all, Allorah had naught to do wi’ Hugh’s disappearance.” A lie much like the one he had told Ceana the night before. Even after hearing her explanation, it seemed he didn’t trust any of them to accept it with the same aplomb.
Maeve spat as she had in the library the previous day and launched into another tirade in Gaelic. This one directed more at Keir than at Al.
“English, Maeve,” he warned calmly. “Lest ye be thrown tae the Butcher like so many others.”
“Bah!” Maeve spat again. “Cumberland will hae his comeuppance. As will she.”
Al managed to refrain from flinching when Maeve stabbed a finger in her direction, but only just. Out of all the strange and awful things that had happened to her this week, Maeve’s uneven temper scared her the most.
Her diatribe continued. “When Robert returns, I will hae him cut her to ribbons for what she did to my brother.”
“She did nothing.”
“She’s cast a spell o’er ye! But then ye’ve always been easily swayed by women, hae ye nae?” she continued, pausing to give Al the stink eye. “She killed my brother! She deserves to be locked up in the dungeon until she dies as he did.”
Again there was no disagreement from the other three. Al wondered if she should be worried over the popular opinion of the group. Though it seemed Keir was the authority figure here.
He retained his composure well. “Maeve, ye’ve been in the western isles too long. Despite what some think,” he threw Al a glance laced with amusement, “we are not savages here. We dinnae lock anyone up and throw away the key any longer.”
“Nay, we just surrender tae the Sassenachs wi’oot much of a fight at all. We lay down our guns and e’en our language for those who would rule us.”
“Shush now,” the second man bit out. “Keir is right aboot one thing. Cumberland’s men could be anywhere. Talk like that will get ye sent tae the tolbooth or worse.”
“I’m nae afraid of Cumberland!”
“Ye should be,” Keir snapped, losing both his humor and his patience. “’Tis murder he’s aboot. Nae justice. Look what they did tae Frang.”
Everyone fell silent, leaving Al to wonder who this Frang was and what had been done to him. She might ask now, but Maeve’s zealous insistence on her imprisonment deterred her from speaking.
He sighed. “Mayhap ‘twould be best if ye made yer way home and yer husband meets ye there.”
“I’m nae leaving until I ken what happened tae Hugh!”
“We hae as much to explain Father’s disappearance as we do Hugh’s,” he pointed out. “Yet I see none of ye pointing fingers and casting accusation o’er him.”
“Aye, but Father has e’er been one tae act rashly,” Oran said.
“He has a point,” Ceana chimed in. “Hugh was never one to give into folly.”
“Yet he did,” Keir countered, rising to his feet to face them all. “He gave into imprudence the moment he loosed his sword and charged intae the enemy wi’oot a second thought. If he had nae been so foolish, he’d be here right now wi’ us all. Whate’er his fate, ‘twas of his own making and that is the truth of it.”
His voice rang with conviction. It was the truth, Al supposed. Depending on what side of it one considered. Only a spacial thinker would consider it while those
of a more linear logic would not. As attached to science as Keir was, she rather thought he might have made an excellent barrister.
“Enough of this now,” he went on. “I ken ye’re all worried for Hugh… and Father. As am I. But let’s put the responsibility where it is the most logical and that is wi’ Cumberland. I’ve sent oot men tae find our kin. To find oot if they are imprisoned or something more. Trust me to discover the truth before yer behavior descends tae that of animals.” He pinned Maeve with a glare after that last statement. “This lass is under my protection and there she shall remain until we ken the truth. And e’en after that.”
* * *
The somber man lingered after Ceana took her sister firmly by the arm and led her away with Oran trailing after them.
“She does hae a point, brother. There maun be an explanation for all this.” His eyes drifted over Al, down where they shouldn’t be, and back to Keir curiously. “There was much speculation over the dinner table last night aboot who this lass is and what she kens.”
“Her name is Miss Allorah Maines,” Keir snapped and turned to her. “May I present my brother, Mr. Artair MacCoinnich.”
Since the somber man kept his eyes on hers this time and bowed politely, she rose and held out a hand. “Nice to meet you.”
His eyes sharpened inquisitively at the gesture but he shook her hand, seeming more surprised by her firm grip. “Despite Maeve’s claims, I can hear for myself ye’re nae Sassenach. From whence do ye hail?”
“The colonies.”
“Which ones?”
How many were there at this time? She had no clue. “The American ones. Across the Atlantic.”
“Ah, and what brings ye tae the Hielands in such troubled times, Miss Maines?”
“A sudden, undeniable urge to travel across the world,” she said with a wry twist of her lips. Well, she could produce a more palatable version of the truth as well as Keir. “I just couldn’t help myself.”
Love in the Time of a Highland Laird (A Laird for All Time Book 3) Page 7