Struan stood to his full height and bellowed out his words.
"MacKendimens do no' use women in their fights. I willna allow ye to abuse her, Sandy. Let her go."
"I think not, Faither. If you will not torture her, then I will have her. He"—Sandy nodded at Alex"—will have no need of her. He had my woman. I will have his."
Alex looked at Struan and fought against the guards' hold on him. Struan started down the steps toward Sandy. Then everything descended into chaos.
He watched as Maggie snapped her head back into Sandy's face, hitting the man's nose. He heard the crack of it from where he stood. Sandy screamed in pain, grabbing at his bleeding nose, while Maggie pulled the dagger from his grasp and slashed his hand. He fell to the ground as she moved away.
The crowd ran in all directions, some toward the bleeding man, some away. Maggie disappeared into the fracas. Without warning, Alex was pushed from the scaffold, his fall broken by the strong arms of the blacksmith. Pol took out a knife and cut through the bindings.
"Come, we must get out of here. Brodie said to use the other gate and meet at the arch."
Alex accepted the man's hand to gain his feet and they took off into the confusion. "What about Maggie?"
"She knows where to meet us. She will make her way there, too."
They ran away from the castle, through the little-known gate and came to the deserted arch before anyone else. Alex approached it from the side. He felt, heard, saw nothing different about it. Maybe Moira was wrong about its power.
The sounds of a chase came closer and closer. A moment later, Maggie ran around the corner. Chasing her were two of Sandy's men, the same ones who had beaten him.
He stood in front of the arch and held out his hand to her. Another second—just another second—and she’d make it. He was ready to take her hand and pull her through with him.
In horror, he watched as Garrick caught up with Maggie and grabbed her cloak from behind. Unable to free the clasp, she was trapped. The second man tripped and fell to the ground.
He was still holding out his hand to her, waiting.
"Go on, Alex," she screamed. "Go through without me." She saw his hesitation and screamed again, "You must try. Now. Go. Please." Her last word ended on a sob.
He lowered his arm and shook his head. "I canna go without ye, Maggie. I canna leave ye behind."
Struan and the MacNab arrived with Brodie and others behind them. Moira stepped out from behind the arch and spoke to Struan in a loud voice. "Ye must let them go, Struan."
"What do ye mean, Moira? Why do ye help them?"
"I do what I must, what I am told to do. Let them pass, Struan, they do no' belong to us."
"I do no' understaun, Moira. Who are they?" Moira's eyes seemed brighter as her voice rose. "The fates brought them to us, Struan, and the fates call them back. Do no' interfere."
Alex watched as Struan took a leap of faith. Accepting Moira's words, he nodded. Alex turned to see Brodie step behind Garrick and hit him with a cudgel. The man collapsed to the ground, freeing Maggie to run to Alex.
Maggie threw off her cloak and took Alex's hand. They turned to Moira. "Moira," he began.
"Nay, Alex. 'Tis the fates ye should thank, no' me. Now, the time is right. Go."
He put his arm around Maggie's shoulders and they walked to the opening.
"Alex, do no' forget the lesson. Do no' tempt the fates again."
"I have learned, Moira." He looked at the woman he loved. "Ready, lass?"
"Yes, Alex."
Lightning split the air and thunder rumbled around them. He took her hand, held it tightly, and stepped into the curve of stone.
In the instant that they entered the archway, wisdom was granted to Moira again.
Alex. Maggie. Laughing together, loving. A bairn wi' bright blue MacKendimen eyes. Time-tested love. He had learned his lesson.
"'S e am gum bidh an dearbhadh de gaol siorruidh, Alex MacKendimen. Your love has been proven true by time itself."
Chapter 45
I'm blind! Blinking against the complete darkness, her chest tightened in complete terror. Unable to breathe, she tried to rub her eyes, but her hands refused her mind's command to reach up to her face. Oh, God, blind and paralyzed. But how? A few moments... minutes... hours ago, she was running to Alex. And, now?
There was movement in the darkness that swirled around her. Was it Alex?
As suddenly as it started, it ended. Maggie shielded her eyes from the glare of the bright sun. As soon as her body would respond, she looked around.
"Maggie?"
"I'm here, Alex."
He was standing at her side and reached down to help her up. They were on the ground next to the half-filled archway. Maggie reached out to touch the stones. She felt nothing, no hint of power or the vibrations once present.
"The sword. Let me look for the sword." He ran a few yards away and searched the ground. She watched him pick up the jewel-encrusted sword and slide it back into the scabbard.
"What do we do now, Alex? Any ideas?" He ran his hand through his hair and looked at their clothing. "We look a bit worse for the wear, Maggie. Do you see anyone around here?"
"Nope. How much time has passed?"
"Do you still have our watches? Are they in your bag?"
She realized it then—his accent was gone, and he spoke English, plain English. No hivs or cannas.
"Do you hear yourself? Your accent is gone, Alex."
"Is it? I could never really tell it was there. Did you find the watches?" He was pacing in front of the wall.
"Here, Alex, here's yours."
She unzipped a compartment in her bag and took out the timepieces. She held hers up, amazed that the seconds now ticked by, digits flashing forward, as normal.
"Do you remember what time it was when we sat down here?"
"It was about 1:25. Alex, what does yours say now?"
"Mine reads 1:30. Only five minutes have passed? It seems impossible."
"We couldn't have traveled through time. It can't have happened."
"I think we did. Look at your hair—it was much shorter when we met. And mine," she ran her finger through her curls, "was much longer."
"Your back?" She turned to him and he peeked inside the back of her blouse. He just nodded in response.
"Your face." She raised her hand to touch the cuts and bruises. He winced at the sore spots.
"It happened!" They said it at the same time and laughed.
"Well, Maggie, as Moira said, 'S e am gum bidh an dearbhadh de gaol siorruidh’."
"Alex, you still have the Gaelic?"
"I may have said it, but I don't have the foggiest idea what it means."
"Mayhap I can help?" Moira reappeared beside the arch. Maggie had not heard her approach.
"Do you know what it means?"
"Aye, lass, it means yer love haes been tested and proven by time and the fates."
Maggie looked at Alex. Those were Moira's words. She had heard them as they passed through the arch, through time.
"I love you, Alex MacKendimen."
"I love you, Maggie Hobbs." He entwined their fingers and he pulled her away from the arch.
"Come on. I think we should get cleaned up a bit, and then the family can meet the fiancée of the heir o' the clan. That is, if you'll have me?"
Epilogue
"And that's what I did on my summer vacation."
You could have heard a pin drop and bounce in the electrified silence of Mrs. MacKendimen's second-grade classroom. Twenty-one small faces, eyes sparkling and mouths dropping wide open, stared in awe at her as she finished reading her composition. A little hand shot up in the back of the group and waved furiously back and forth.
"Yes, Jennifer?"
"Mrs. MacKendimen, wasn't your hair much longer before? My sister told me..."
Maggie reached up and tugged at the short-but-now-even curls, laughing at the details children notice.
"Yes Jennifer, my hai
r was much longer when I taught second grade last year. I decided to try a shorter haircut "
Another hand went up in the group. She pointed at John and waited for his question.
"But, Mrs. MacKendimen, wasn't that just a story you told us? Did you really go to Scotland?"
Looking at the bright, inquisitive students, Maggie wondered just how to answer.
"Well, yes, John, I did go to Scotland and I visited all the places I told you about. Would you like to see the best souvenir I brought back from my trip?"
The twenty-one heads bobbed in unison. Maggie got up from her chair in the center of the room and walked to the door. Opening it, she motioned for someone to come in. The children gasped at the sight before them.
He stood straight, looking even taller to them than the six feet four inches that he was. He wore full Highland dress: saffron shirt, covered with a plaid in hunting colors and tied with a thick belt at his waist. The plaid encircled his waist and was thrown over his shoulder and secured with a large, jewel-encrusted badge. His knees were uncovered, but his lower legs were wrapped and cross-gartered.
What most drew the attention of every child was the gigantic claymore he carried in a scabbard hanging from his belt. He pulled the sword free and held it up in front of the children, smiling as they ooh'd and aah'd in fascination. Highly polished, it sent thousands of brilliant shards of light sparkling around the room as it reflected the sun. The class crawled forward as one to get a closer look at the weapon.
"Oooh, Mrs. MacKendimen, you brought back this sword?" asked one blond-haired girl.
"No, Jessica, not the sword." Maggie walked over to the warrior and slid her arm around his waist. "I brought home a real Scottish warrior."
Alex smiled at his wife's words and leaned down to kiss her. "And I brought home the love of my life."
The End
Meet Terri Brisbin --
Terri Brisbin has been writing romance fiction since 1995 and has more than 25 historical and paranormal romance novels, novellas and short stories published since then. When not living the glamorous life of a romance author in the southern NJ suburbs (or pining over Gerard Butler), Terri spends her time being a wife to one, mom to three as well as a dental hygienist to hundreds.
A National Readers’ Choice Award finalist, three-time RWA RITA® finalist, and winner of the NJRW Golden Leaf and Desert Rose Golden Quill, Terri is now working on more romance novels and novellas for release through 2012 from Harlequin Historical. You can visit her website for more info about the author and her work or to contact her: www.terribrisbin.com
Coming soon from Terri Brisbin –
Book 2 and Book 3 of the MacKendimen Trilogy!
Once Forbidden – Book 2
A Matter of Time – Book 3
Excerpt of ONCE FORBIDDEN –
"What do you mean I cannot go into my wife's chamber?"
"Sandy, yer faither asked me to bring ye to him. He waits for ye at the stable."
"Brodie, get out of my way. My wife awaits me here. I'll see to my father later."
The warrior simply blocked the door, keeping his cousin from entering. His uncle, the laird, did not want Anice disturbed. His orders were to bring Sandy as quickly and quietly as possible to the stables where Struan awaited them.
"Yer faither said something about a gift ye maun see for the king."
"Now? Nay, Brodie, he can wait. What awaits me inside here will not."
Sandy took a step towards the door and Brodie nodded his head to the two soldiers across the hall. They took hold of Sandy, who put up a brief struggle. The knock on his head from behind put an end to it. More soldiers took their place before Anice's door.
"What is happening, Brodie?" the younger guard asked as they hauled the laird's unconscious son out of the castle.
Brodie thought a moment before answering. He had a very good idea of what was going on, but it was not his place to talk about it with anyone except the laird. From the look of things, Struan was trying to keep this business with his son quiet.
"I dinna ken, Iain. Just follow the orders ye hiv."
A few minutes later, the heir of the clan lay sprawled at his father's feet on the packed-dirt floor of the stables. Brodie watched the laird circle his son, a stony look on his face. He had never seen his uncle like this and, for a moment, he felt pity for his cousin. It was a short moment.
If only Alex were the heir, he thought. The impostor who had lived and trained with them for months was a better man than this one. 'Twas not meant to be, for Alex was gone and the clan was left with this excuse for a Scot.
"Tie his hands behind him, Brodie." He did so, quickly and efficiently.
"Wake him," Struan ordered.
Brodie scooped up a bucket of water from the horse trough and threw it on his cousin. He grinned as Sandy screamed, coughed, and sputtered. Had poor Anice screamed during the night?
"What the bloody hell do you think you are doing Brodie?" Sandy looked at him and Brodie saw the dawning perception of danger on his cousin's face. "Father, tell him to untie me. Now!" Sandy rolled on the floor, trying to gain his balance and get to his feet. With a foot on the heir's shoulder, Brodie pushed him back to the floor.
"Stay!" roared Struan.
Brodie smiled as he saw Sandy finally realize that he was in trouble, deep trouble.
"What ye and yer Sassenach friends did to the whore two nights ago was a disgrace, Sandy," Struan began. "But to treat Anice in this way is an abomination. She was an innocent coming to yer bed and ye injured her terribly."
"You have no right to chastise me about my wife, Father. No right at all."
Sandy's voice rose in pitch, sending waves of revulsion down Brodie's throat. He felt like puking when Sandy acted so... English. Five years in London with David the Bruce, who was being held hostage there by King Edward III, and he had lost every bit of his Scottish pride. Brodie ached, understanding Struan's pain and disgrace in facing this disappointment for a son and heir.
"I hiv every right, ye lousy bastard. I am yer laird and yer faither and ye will obey me." Struan's voice lowered, his expression more furious than before.
"I can raise my hand to her when she needs correction, Father. Even you used your hand on my mother."
"Aye, Sandy, I did once. And I regretted it every day of my life."
"Anice will learn to please me soon enough. She will learn my ways and obey me. The stupid girl thought to naysay me on my wedding night," Sandy continued, completely unaware that he was driving his father to the brink of losing his self-control. Brodie thought for a moment about warning him off.
Another very short moment.
"She knew she had to prove herself a virgin after her actions with that impostor. She resisted my efforts to see if her maidenhead was intact so I hit her. It is my right."
Sandy never saw the first punch coming. His nose, broken before, spurted blood down his face and into the dirt where he landed. It was followed by several more blows and then a final kick. The very air in the stables sizzled as Struan's fury poured out of him.
"She came here and served our clan faithfully. She waited for ye faithfully. She married ye, doing her duty to our clan and hers. And ye beat her on her wedding night like she was some wild animal. Weel, Sandy, how does it feel to ye?"
Brodie let Struan land two more solid hits before he stepped in to stop him. He knew that Struan wanted to punish Sandy, not kill him. Struan was panting and blowing from the exertion and strain of beating his son.
"His damned English friends wait for him outside the gates. Tie him on the horse if ye maun, but get him out of Dunnedin now." Struan wiped his brow and turned away. No one said another word.
Brodie nodded and with the help of the other guards he did just that—tied the unconscious man over the saddle and led him to the gates. When the iron gate had been raised, Brodie slapped the horse sharply and it skidded through the gate and down the path. The English escort, aware of Struan's intent to rid the clan Mac
Kendimen of its heir once more, galloped after the spooked horse.
Good riddance to bad rubbish, Brodie thought as he watched his cousin leave the clan once more. And this time, in addition to his plea that Sandy was gone for good, Brodie begged one more boon from the Almighty. Surely, He could find a fitting heir to follow after Struan and lead the clan MacKendimen.
Surely.
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