But that didn't matter. If he could find his way out of here, he would likely never see her again .
He still didn’t know if he was in the middle of some complex dream or if he was being put on by some of his colleagues. They hadn’t been too thrilled about his leaving to Scotland last minute. Were they trying to get back at him? Or -- did part of him somewhat believe what this Fiona was telling him? He didn’t see how it was possible, as much as she quoted Einstein -- or, rather, had him refer to his theories. This woman was clever, that was for sure. Well, for the moment, he didn’t see anything else to do than continue to follow her .
The room they entered was as plain as Sorcha’s room, but contained a chest of drawers. She pulled out first what she called a leine, that was really just a very long shirt. Then she pulled out a gray blanket and instructed him on how to put it on. She called it a “great kilt,” or a plaid, despite the fact there was no pattern on it. She folded and pleated it, showed him a belt and how to tie it over a shoulder. It would be a miracle if he remembered how to do it again but hopefully he wouldn't have to. Fiona left to give him some modesty, and he tried to follow her instructions. He felt like a fool when she returned, and she had to tuck and pin some fabric for him. He really could have used some pants .
The more he tried to question her, the less she would say, and finally she simply ignored him. “These will be your rooms,” she said. “For now, you’re one of the Singleir men. Now come. We will break our fast soon and you must be hungry .”
* * *
It wasn’t long before he was sitting in a huge hall at a long table with what looked to be Highland warriors. Bread was placed in front of him, buttered, with a spice of some sort -- sage, he figured? A glass of cloudy liquid was also set down. What was it? He sniffed. Alcohol of some sort …
“Not to yer liking?” the man next to him, a big, burly sort, guffawed as he elbowed Bryan, sending his drink spilling over the table .
“It’s fine,” he said, taking a swig, trying to stomach the foul liquid. He honestly didn’t know what to think of this. He had to get out of this building, see where he was being held in this awful prank .
He pushed himself back from the table, making his way to the huge front doors. There was a chill to the air, so the season hadn’t changed -- he was thankful for that. He looked around him and saw the greens of the trees rolling down the hill in front of him, a familiar sight, relieving some of the unease in his chest. Now, where was the road? Perhaps he could find his way back to Stonehaven. Even if he had to walk all the way, he needed to get away from here and these people who were in on this scheme. The year 1546 -- he shook his head. Right .
And then he turned to look down the road, where the high walls of the castle should have been. There were still stone walls. But they were lower. The arms of the building stretched west and north, but it was not squared in as it should have been. Instead…. Instead there were small buildings, almost like… he began walking towards them, hearing the clang of tools on metal of what he realized was a blacksmith shop. He kept walking, and saw a mill. This was not a good sign. He took off down the road, realizing with renewed panic that what should have been paved was a dirt path, and the road certainly not wide enough for cars to drive past one another .
The hours he had spent on the jogging paths of Central Park had been excellent training, as he took off at a good clip down the road, across what should have been the A90 highway. He ran and ran in the leather bootie type of shoes the wild-haired woman had given him, until he reached what should have been Stonehaven. The village was there, all right, but it was not the village he knew. There were tiny huts, people in medieval dress, and small shops. He could see the water beyond, and knew, with a sinking heart, the landscape was right, but not the buildings. Not the time .
It was as the woman had told him. It was 1546 .
Panic rose inside him. He didn't know what to think, what to do next. He had to find Fiona, his only lifeline to the future .
Bryan was trudging back to the castle, one foot in front of the other, when he heard the clopping of hooves approaching. He hoped it wasn’t anyone coming to rob him or attack him. He had taken taekwondo as a kid, but that would be no match for the weapons these men carried. The best he could do was run, but certainly a horse could chase him down in moments. His spirit too tired to even try to hide or avoid the upcoming traveler, he waited for the horse to round the bend .
When she turned around the corner, the sun shining a halo behind her head, Bryan was momentarily stunned. It was the woman he had -- well -- appeared to. She rode the stallion with grace and he could tell she was comfortable and strong on horseback. She slowed as she approached him, then slid off the horse to his level .
Her long dark hair tinged with red cascaded down her back, and his fingers itched to run through it. He quelled the sensation, of course, and instead, gave her a slight bow .
“I find that I must apologize once more,” he said, clearing his throat. “It seems I was wrong when I doubted you about the year. I understand now that you were correct. And I should probably introduce myself. I’m Bryan Smith .”
“Smith?” She queried. “‘Tis an English name, Bryan of Smith. Mayhap you should not share that too widely .”
“That’s my name !”
“So be it, then,” she said, her eyebrows raised. “I am Sorcha of Clan Singleir, daughter of Baldwin Singleir, brother to the Laird of our clan .”
“Sorcha,” he said, and she nodded with a shrug at his question on how to address her. “Sorcha, I’m pleased to meet you .”
“And I you .”
“Will you walk with me?” he surprised himself even with the question. He wanted nothing more than to find Fiona and determine how to get himself home, and yet in this moment he wanted nothing more than to spend time with this woman, whose wore a corseted dress this morning that skimmed over a slim waist, curvy hips, and breasts that peeked out of the top of her dress just enough to make him want more. She had thrown a blanket-wrap of her own overtop her clothing due to the cold, and while completely necessary, he would have loved to have seen more of her .
He shook his head again. This wouldn’t do. He’d seen enough movies with Emilia to know how this scenario ended up. Nothing good could come from a time-traveling romance. And he was getting far ahead of himself. There was no romance here, just a casual conversation with the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes upon .
“Do you live here?” he asked her as they walked along the path, leaves falling behind him and the horse trailing over Sorcha’s left shoulder .
“I do not, and I am happy for it,” she replied, her hands behind her back as she kicked at the leaves on the trail. “I am not pleased about the reason for my presence here. I’m here to marry Archibald MacLauchlan of Clan Keith. He’s a cousin of the Keiths, and owns some castle and lands. My father wants a greater alliance with the clan, as well as the inheritance Lord Archibald will provide me should he pass away .”
“That doesn’t seem fair,” Bryan finally replied .
“‘Tis the way of things,” she said. “I didna question it until I met the man last night. He’s… he’s repulsive .”
After a moment of silence she gave a short laugh .
“I apologize. I’m unsure why I am telling you all of this -- you are a perfect stranger and clearly have many more pressing issues than my lot in life .”
He placed a hand on her arm to stop her, and gently turned her toward him .
“A woman marrying against her will is nothing trifling,” he said. “Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me about it .”
She blushed and looked down at his hand on her arm, which he removed at her look and continued down the path .
“Do you have to marry him? What happens if you don’t?” he asked .
Her brow furrowed .
“Ultimately it is my father’s decision. The marriage has already been announced and everyone is gathered for the celebrations
. Should we turn away from the marriage, it would be a great dishonor to the Keiths, who are a powerful clan,” she said. “My father would never agree to it .”
“What if you were to go against your father’s wishes ?”
She stopped and looked up at him. “I hadna really thought on that before. I suppose at the very worst my father could disown me and I would be left with nothing, to fend for myself,” she finally said. “Besides that, we would make a great enemy of the Keiths and my people would suffer for it .”
“And do you never question that?” he asked. “Why, in so many cultures, for centuries, so many women did not have the freedom to choose ?”
She frowned at him and looked up at him in curiosity .
“Where do you hail from, that there would be another option for a woman? Why all of these questions ?”
“As your maid, the curious Fiona told me just this morning, the question is not where I’m from, but when -- and that would be 2017 .”
6
Sorcha
H e was from 2017 -- as in, the year 2017 ?
She laughed. What kind of joke was he trying to play? Or did he think she was simple-minded? She hoped he was joking -- it felt good to laugh. She was normally much more carefree, but in the last weeks since she had learned of her marriage it had been difficult to see the less serious side of life .
Then she looked at him and saw the somberness in his light brown eyes. His gaze held steady with hers and her smile faded as she realized he believed what he said. He looked down at her in earnest, willing her to believe him. She smiled gently at him in an attempt to soften her words .
“Bryan of Smith,” she said. “I’m afraid you must be rather confused. Are you ill perhaps? Do you have anyone who has traveled here with you who could aid you ?”
“No,” he said with a shake of his head. “I am here completely on my own -- do you not recall how I appeared in your bedroom? One minute I was in 2017, settling into bed to sleep, and the next thing I knew I was through some sort of strange apparition in the room, falling through a dark tunnel until I appeared in front of you! Trust me, this is as much a shock to me as it is to you. I didn’t believe it myself until I walked to the village. It is too strange a thing to contemplate rationally. Although, think on it Sorcha -- if this is true, do you know what this means? If I can return to 2017 and report on these findings, this will change everything we know about the space-time continuum! It will grow on a theory that only Einstein has ever deemed possible. I’m no scientist, but this discovery will have great consequence .”
He was emphatic now on his topic, striding back and forth in front of her, waving his hands in the air as he spoke. She couldn’t deny his attractiveness, that was for certain. The passion for his topic sparked a fire in him. His body was lean, leaner than many of the Highland men in her clan, and yet he was strong. She had seen the muscles of his chest and abdomen when he had been without a shirt in her room the previous night. She had never seen the body of a man quite like that, and if she were honest with herself, she wanted to see him again .
His dark hair was short, with a slight bit of hair alongside his chiseled cheekbones and stubble over his chin. When his hazel eyes caught hers, they were bright and earnest .
Yes, he was a fine specimen of a man. But the poor soul was quite mad .
“Sorcha,” he continued, and she wondered why she had so quickly allowed the familiarity, but that was low on the list of her current concerns. “You must help me. I need to return to your chamber, and find the portal to get back to my time with some piece of evidence that I have time traveled. Where is Fiona? We should talk to her again .”
“Fiona? My maid?” Sorcha asked. “She should be upon us soon. She was accompanying me for a ride through the forest but when we met with you she somehow disappeared. I imagine she is not long behind us. Why do you ask about her ?”
“She’s involved in all of this. She was my cab driver in 2017 -- not that you would know what a cab is, I suppose. It is a car for hire -- imagine a horse and cart but without the horses .”
Sorcha nodded her head to placate him, but tried to determine what she should do. The man clearly needed help. Perhaps she should bring him to her father? Or Fergus? Although there was no telling what they would do with him. They may throw him in the castle dungeon for all she knew. Perhaps Godric could help her. He was a soldier of her father’s and had accompanied them to Fetteresso. They had been playmates when they were young, and now he was one of her closest friends and fiercest protectors.He was married to a lovely woman with a babe on the way, and Sorcha had been meaning to ask her father if they could stay with her when she was married to Archibald .
“You can visit my rooms during the day with an escort,” she said finally, contemplating Bryan. “Otherwise it would be quite improper. My friend Godric should be able to help you .”
He reached out his hands and grasped one of hers between his large palms. She tried not to gasp as a tingle ran up from where their hands were clasped through her body. His hands were warm, and his face so, so lovely, and as his eyes caught hers she seemed unable to look away .
“We -- we best be returning as Fiona seems to have disappeared,” she finally said. “I’ll do what I can to help you. Where is your horse ?”
“I don’t have a horse -- I arrived through some sort of teleportation, remember ?”
“Aye, that’s right,” she said, not knowing how else to respond. “Would ye like to ride back with me? We are a fair distance from the castle .”
“I’d love to, thank you .”
She mounted first, then shifted forward in the seat so he could mount behind her. It took him a few attempts, but finally he clumsily made his way up on the seat. She raised her eyebrows. Had he never gotten on a horse before? His arms wrapped around her waist and gripped her close, and she closed her eyes briefly at the feel of his hard torso against her back .
Just as she began to turn the horse to return to Fettereso, she heard the distant sound of hooves coming up the road, and when she squinted she could make out the forms of three men on horseback approaching quickly .
“‘Tis likely best we are not discovered alone,” she said over her shoulder to Bryan. “I will make for the trees if you agree ?”
“Lead on,” he said, and she turned the horse’s nose and directed him into the trees surrounding them. They navigated to a path of greenery where they could not be seen from the road, and she stopped to keep from making any noise .
She recognized the voice as the horses approached. It was the gruff voice that had leered at her the previous night -- her intended, Archibald of the Clan Keith .
“You speak the truth, friend!” he said to his companions. “Me future wife is a beauty, to be sure, though I feel she may be a bit of a cold fish. She’ll have much to learn on how to keep ol’Archibald content!” He laughed, a cackle that sent a shiver down her spine. “In the meantime, there’s plenty of lasses in the village whorehouse to keep me pleased until the time comes to get the beauty in me bed. Should she not please me, though, you can have at ‘er !”
Sorcha’s stomach roiled in disgust as they laughed together and rode away. She had to talk to her father again. Perhaps there was another Keith she could marry instead? Anyone but this revolting --
“Poor girl .”
She had been so wrapped up in her thoughts she had almost forgotten Bryan behind her. Although now that she felt his breath on the back of her neck as he spoke, she wasn’t sure how he could have left her thoughts for even a moment .
“Who do you mean?” she asked .
“The girl he’s talking about -- the one he’s to marry,” he responded. “I feel sorry for her .”
“Thank you,” she said. “I appreciate that .”
“You… that’s not your fiancé ?”
“Aye, ‘tis him.” It came out in little more than a whisper .
“You cannot marry him.” The vehemence in his voice surprised her. She had onl
y just met him last night. Why did it matter to him ?
“I have been telling this to my father, but unfortunately it is the way of things.” She looked up at him. “I have been trying to determine a way out. I feel my best course of action, if I must go through with it, is to displease him enough that he will leave me be .”
He shook his head. “Perhaps if you were less beautiful he might, but no man could resist a woman like you .”
She blushed and looked down at her hands. “Thank you for saying so, but ye heard him. He might if I try hard enough .”
She urged the horse out of the trees and back towards the castle and she felt him tense behind her .
“I understand the business side of arranged marriage, but the personal side of it?” he questioned. “How could a parent -- a mother or father -- subject their child, who they are supposed to have all of the instincts to love and protect, into the hands of one who will mistreat them ?”
He continued on his pondering of the subject as they neared the castle. She found his ideas fascinating and contributed to his musings with thoughts of her own. Unlike most men in her life, he listened to what she said, seeming to take her thoughts into careful consideration. If he agreed with her, he said so, and if disagreed, he did so with respect. It was a new experience for her, and one she rather liked .
She almost regretted their return to the castle, for she had enjoyed their time together without any others present. She knew it wasn’t proper, but it had not been planned and Fiona was supposed to have been with her. She dismounted, helped him dismount as clumsily as he had gotten on the horse, and after leaving her mount to the stable boys, she led Bryan through the yard .
“Come with me to the training yard,” she said. “We’ll find Godric for you. He should be able to help, or at the very least keep an eye on you .”
“The training yard? Maybe I should just wait elsewhere. I think, maybe, the training yard isn’t really the place for a guy like me. Is there a library in this castle ?”
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