Chloe studied him, wide eyed at the unspoken threat, but fairly certain she didn’t have the nerve to contradict him. She felt weak all over just remembering some of the things she’d said to him before she’d realized he was a primitive with a streak of violence.
"Ye’ve no need to be lookin’ at me with those doe eyes if ya’d nothin’ to do with that slaughter as ya claim."
Chloe clamped her lips tightly to still the wobble in her chin and nodded.
"I’ll nae tie ya if ya give me yer word ye’ll nae be tryin’ to escape."
"I won’t. I promise."
He frowned. "Swear."
Chloe gulped. "I swear."
The moment he left, closing the door behind him, Chloe looked around the room for a place to hide. It looked like her dorm room before she moved in--the next thing to vacant. There was a large, crude bed, surrounded by fabric. It might have been pretty if anything had actually matched. Instead, it looked like somebody had dug the hangings from a rag bag, patched them together and then strung them around the bed on green branches—green, she guessed because they were bowed and twisted in every direction. The room was cold and damp and she strongly suspected the moist looking patches everywhere were mold. A trunk, nearly big enough to make a casket for somebody about her size sat at the foot of the bed. Rough hewn didn’t even begin to describe it. There was one, narrow window, which had something yellow tacked over it. A little light filtered through, but not a whole lot. Aside from the bed and the trunk, there was nothing but some kind of earthen container—which she wasn’t going near because she could smell it from where she was—a crude table holding a pitcher and bowl and a really uncomfortable looking chair near the fireplace.
And she’d thought some of the bachelor pads she’d been in looked disgusting!
That thought set her to wondering if Sean was married. He’d come on to her, but that was certainly no indication. She couldn’t tell to look at the place if a woman had had anything to do with it, but she strongly doubted it.
It occurred to her to wonder why she was even thinking along those lines. She didn’t care whether Sean was married or not--so long as a female version of the primitives downstairs didn’t show up and drag her into a cat fight.
She was reasonably certain there wasn’t one clean spot in the entire castle, let alone the room. She wasn’t exactly clean herself. She’d been wallowing all over the ground. She was certain she had leaves and sticks and God only knew what else in her hair, but she really didn’t want to park her bare ass anywhere. Finally, realizing she was just too tired to be nicey-nasty, she moved into the darkest corner, tucked the shirt under her butt and sat.
She wanted a bathroom, and all the luxury that entailed!
She wanted to go home!
After wallowing in self-pity for at least an hour, she began to wonder if there was any possibility of going home. She’d been brought here, somehow--whether by Fairy magic or some sort of rip in time--trust her rotten luck to fall into a hole in time--It seemed plausible enough that she could get back by going to the same place.
The problem was, she’d never had much of a sense of direction. She hadn’t even been paying attention while they were riding. She’d been so certain Sean would take her someplace where she could catch a ride home, or call for help, it hadn’t occurred to her that she might actually need to get back to the place where he’d found her.
It seemed doubtful that she could convince Sean to take her back. He was so convinced that she was mixed up in some kind of conspiracy she doubted he’d believe anything she told him, much less the farfetched tale that was true. Even if she could think up something he might believe, there was no way of knowing if he could find his way back to the exact spot and she had a feeling that the exact spot was the only place that would work--if anything would.
And what if the hole had closed?
Panic seized her at the thought. It took an effort to remain where she was, but as chaotic as her emotions were, self-preservation remained uppermost in her mind. She hadn’t liked being paraded past those creatures downstairs with Sean holding onto her. No way was she going to dash past them all by herself.
As if she could outrun them all!
The only option she had at the moment, as far as she could see, was to convince Sean to take her back. The question was, what approach to take? He didn’t seem quite as certain, now, that she’d had something to do with that attack they’d seen, but that didn’t mean he trusted her. She just wished she’d realized before she opened her mouth that he had a problem with Monroes.
But how was she to have known that?
Caution, in hind sight, seemed like it would’ve been a good thing, but there didn’t seem to be a lot of point in kicking herself over it now. Anyway, the problem was getting back and that seemed like enough to worry about.
The direct approach really appealed to her the most. She wasn’t terribly good at acting. Her grandmother had always known when she’d been trying to con her and Chloe had a feeling that Sean’s suspicious nature would make him pretty shrewd.
On the other hand, it didn’t seem very likely that he’d believe her. She wouldn’t have believed anybody that had told her such a tale. The people from this time might be a lot more savage, but it didn’t necessarily follow that they were either stupid or gullible, and Sean certainly didn’t seem to fit either possibility.
She had to think of some good reason why she had to go back to the exact spot.
He’d mentioned fairies when he found her, but somehow she didn’t get the feeling that he actually believed in them. It had sounded a lot more tongue in cheek than anything else.
So, what? What could she tell him?
Maybe she should make something up after all? Play on his suspicions? That seemed a little more dangerous than she liked.
Chloe was so deep in thought that the thing ran right over her toes before she even realized it was there.
She shot to her feet and then some, about a foot in the air, letting out an ear piercing shriek. Apparently the beast wasn’t accustomed to being screamed at, because it went into a blind panic and began scrambling in first one direction and then another, as if it couldn’t make up its mind which way to run. Chloe was having a similar problem, mostly because every time she jumped in one direction, the beast changed directions and followed her.
Still screaming her head off, Chloe leapt for the bed, the highest, and closest, point in the room. The door slammed open jarringly. Sean stood in the doorway with that huge knife of his, his eyes wide.
"Kill it!" Chloe shrieked, pointing at the animal that was still running frantically around the room in search of a hiding spot. "Kill it! Kill it! Don’t let it get away!"
With a growl of rage, he leapt into the room and sliced the thing in half with his knife. He stared down at it for several moments while it kicked and twitched. "Is that what ya was screamin’ yer head off about? A rat?"
"That’s a rat! My God! I thought it was a possum! Jez-us Christ! It’s as big as a freaking house cat!"
"Did it bite ya?"
Chloe’s chin trembled. A shiver skated down her spine and she leapt from the bed and slammed into Sean hard enough he took a step back. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she held onto him tightly. "It ran over my foot! It touched my foot! Can you catch something from a rat like that?"
He hesitated and finally wrapped an arm around her. "They’re nasty creatures, but I’m nae followin’ ya, lass. What do ya think ya can catch from a rat?"
"Disease! They carry all kinds of diseases--rats were responsible for the bubonic plague … probably all the plagues that just about wiped out Europe…."
Finally becoming aware of the fact that they had an audience, Chloe lifted her head slowly and stared at the men crowded in the doorway. Fear was evident on their features and Chloe realized, even before they began muttering amongst themselves, that she’d let her tongue run away with her and that it could have dangerous consequences if she created a p
anic.
Sean pushed her away, gripping her arms. "It’s a pest and that’s a fact, but there’s nae need ta alarm everyone because ye’re fearful of rats."
Chloe, wide eyed with alarm herself, nodded at the warning look he gave her. "It … uh … startled me. Sorry. I didn’t mean to get everyone upset," she said weakly.
Sean turned and glared at the men. "There’s nae threat here. Ya might just as well go back ta the hall."
"She was talkin’ about the plague. I heard her with my own ears. Ye’ve brought a tart back infected wid it and we’ll all sicken and die!" screeched a woman who’d pushed her way past the men.
"The lass is nae sick. Ya can look at her and see she’s nae."
The woman’s eyes narrowed. "Her skin looks sickly to me. And look how scrawny she is. I say she’s got the sickness. We need to put her outta here before we’re all sick."
Chloe glanced from Sean to the woman and back again. She didn’t like the way they were looking at her, but it seemed fairly certain that they’d have no desire to touch her if they thought she had something that would make them sick. She licked her lips. "Maybe you could just take me back to where you found me?" she suggested hesitantly, albeit hopefully.
"I’m the Laird here," Sean growled. "And I’ll nae be takin’ orders from a woman."
Turning to Chloe, he untied the ties at her wrists and began tugging at the tie at the neck of the shirt. Stunned, Chloe didn’t even think to protest until he got to the last tie. She slapped his hands. "Hey! What do you think you’re doing?"
His eyes narrowed. "Ye’ve alarmed everyone. Now ye’re goin’ to show them they’ve nothing to be alarmed about."
Chloe gaped at him, but before she could think of an objection, he snatched the shirt over her head, grasped her by her shoulders and set her where everyone could look her over. Chloe was so stunned that he’d finished displaying her before it wore off enough to react. With a growl, she grasped the door and slammed it in their faces, then turned on Sean. "You asshole!" she snarled, snatching the shirt from his hands and jerking it over her head once more. "What did you do that for?"
Chapter Six
Sean’s eyes narrowed. "Ya ken why. I’ll nae have rumors of sickness goin’ round ta scare my people witless."
She felt like clubbing him, but despite her anger, she knew he was right. She’d scared them, talking about the plague. "You didn’t have to parade me in front of them naked!"
"I’d nae mind ta leave them in any doubt. They’ve seen ya now. There’s plenty of witnesses to say ye’ve nae sign of the plague on ya, whatever the bawd decides ta tell."
"You could’ve just taken me back to where you found me! Then there wouldn’t have been a problem anyway."
"Is tha’ what ya had in mind?"
Her shoulders slumped. "No. I mean, I do want to go back, but I didn’t say it for that reason. I was scared, OK? I’m not used to seeing rats that big. I’m not used to seeing rats at all. This place is … awful. I just want to go home … back to the dorm, anyway."
He flushed. "I’d no notion ya was a princess. Happen, this is the best I have ta offer. ‘Tis me own room."
Chloe gaped at him, blushing to the roots of her hair. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean this room," she lied, horrified at her social blunder. "I meant … I just don’t belong here."
"Aye. Ya belong with the Monroes. But I’ll nae be handin’ ya back to them. I’ll be negotiatin’ a handsome price for you."
"Price?" she asked, wondering who he was planning on selling her to.
"Ransom," he said tightly.
"From whom?"
He rolled his eyes. "The Monroes."
Chloe didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She did know, however, that she had no more desire to be with the Monroes than the Fraziers--and that it wasn’t at all likely that the Monroes would pay for her. She bit her lip. "They’re not going to pay a ransom to get me back. I told you I’m not related to these people. They don’t even know me."
"Ye’re sayin’ ye’re nae a Monroe?"
"A LOT of people are named Monroe, but they’re not related!"
"But they are clansmen!"
"I’m not Scottish, damn it! I’m an American!"
He frowned. "What nonsense is this?"
"It’s not nonsense!" Chloe exclaimed, stamping her foot. After a moment, she whirled and stomped back over to her corner and sat down, drawing her knees up.
He studied her for several moments. "I’ve nae heard of this Merkica," he said slowly.
Chloe put her head down, thinking. "In 1492, Columbus sailed the ocean blue," she muttered. "God only knows what year this is if he’s never heard of the Americas."
"The New World? Why that’s daft, lass. There’s nae there but savages."
Chloe glanced up at him in surprise, feeling a wash of excitement before it receded into depression. "I guess so. Now. I never was much for history. I didn’t think I’d need it."
He moved toward her slowly and squatted in front of her, resting one knee on the floor. "I dinna ken the half of what ye’re sayin’ lass, but I’m thinkin’ yer still more than a bit confused."
"I’m not confused. And I’m not crazy! I could almost believe this was some kind of elaborate setup for my benefit except for a few tiny little details--first and foremost being I don’t have any money and I can’t imagine this being worthwhile just for kicks. Grandma left me a little insurance money, bless her heart, but it took pretty much everything she had to raise me. The little I’ve got wouldn’t even pay for this kind of set up, let alone tempt anybody.
"Then there’s the fact that I don’t have any next of kin, so even if somebody was out to get my ‘fortune’ they couldn’t get it by killing me or having me declared incompetent … still no motive to make me think I’m in medieval Scotland when I’m not.
"Besides that--the sights, the smells, the horrible living conditions are just too real not to be real. I don’t know how or why it happened, but I must really be here, hundreds of years in the past--maybe a thousand--and all the way across the ocean. And the weirdest thing about it is that it would actually make more sense to me if I was in the wilderness, surrounded by wild Indians.
"How I ended up here, in medieval Scotland completely baffles me … unless it was that stupid wish I made about … well, never mind that."
Realizing that she’d been babbling, she glanced up at Sean self-consciously. He was frowning, obviously trying to follow her rambling and not having much luck with it. "Why do ya keep sayin’ medieval Scotland, lass?"
"Because that’s what they called it in the history books. I already told you I didn’t pay a lot of attention to it. I don’t know why they called it medieval, just that they did and it was a long time before me. Unfortunately, I arrived without clothes or I’d have something to show you to prove it! I’m sure I had a little change in my pocket--with dates on it. Maybe that’s why the clothes didn’t make the trip? Because they belong to the future? But I do, too, so why am I here?" She rubbed her throbbing temples and laughed half heartedly. "As if there’d be some reason for me to be here! It’s just a freak accident or … well, it’s almost enough to make a person believe in fairies. The spiteful little bastards probably enjoyed the hell out of playing this trick on me!"
"Ye’re thinkin’ fairies left ya there in the clearing?"
"It sure as hell wasn’t Santa Claus," she snapped irritably. "Look. I honestly don’t know how I got there. All I do know is that I don’t belong here. I need to go back … where I belong. I need to go back to the fairy ring, where you found me. It’s the only way I can think of that I might be able to go back."
"Go back where, lass?"
Chloe frowned. "Technically, I guess it would be forward--in time--to two thousand and four, or anywhere near it. I’d settle for anything after plumbing and electricity."
"Ya canna be talkin’ this sort of thing around folks. They’ll think ye’re mad."
Chloe stared at him for a long moment, feel
ing a mixture of frustration and fear mingling in her belly. "Do I really seem crazy to you?"
His gaze met hers and held for several moments before it flickered over her face. "Nay, ya do nae. It’s the things ya talk about, lass. Ya canna go to the past--it’s done. An’ the only way to get to tomorrow is to live the time between now and then."
"That’s all very well for you to say," Chloe muttered. "You belong here. I don’t. This is your time and your place, not mine, and I can’t wait around a few hundred years to get back. I want to go now, while I’m still young enough to have a life--a family and a career!"
"What’s this word, career mean?" he asked, puzzled.
"A job--work--what you do to make money to live on. I was … am studying retail management. I love to shop. I figured I’d be happiest if I was working around people shopping."
He listened to her, frowning, and finally shook his head and rose. "I dinna ken the half o’that. Mayhap there’s some truth to it. Mayhap ya dinna belong here, but ye’re to stay for now, lass. I’ve troubles of me own. The Kincaids are accusing me of lurin’ them into a trap. One man claims to have escaped it and is swearin’ it was me kinsman who attacked, nae them. Happen, they’re nae claimin’ to ha’ seen anything of the Monroes an’ I’m a little more inclined to think ya spoke the truth, but if ye’d nae been there to distract me, I might hae prevented all this."
"And you might be dead now like the rest of them!" Chloe snapped, irritated that he was back to blaming her for the mess, especially when she’d thought from the other things he’d said that he might be more inclined to listen to her, maybe take her back.
His eyes narrowed. "I’ve more than a passin’ familiarity with battle, lass, an’ a good sword arm. Beyond that, I’m the laird, the head of my clan. My kinsman would nae have disobeyed me if I’d been there to stop them. Mayhap they thought the Kincaids had done away with me."
"They disobeyed you by going in the first place," Chloe pointed out. "You told me you were to meet with the Kincaids alone. And, for that matter, if you were going alone, why were there four Kincaids there to meet you? If you ask me, it looks like you’d have had four Kincaids and probably two Fraziers to battle if you’d made it there on time!"
The Fairy Ring Page 4