The Key to His Castle: A Clean Time Travel Romance (Clan MacGregor Book 5)

by Blanche Dabney

  “Go on.”

  “In a couple of weeks you sue for peace with Mungo Frazer. At the negotiations you stab him with the knife and that event sparks a war that spreads through the highlands and lasts for generations. Countless people die in that war.” She paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. “I’m supposed to take the knife and go back to my time with it. That way the war doesn’t happen and innocent people will not die.”

  “I don’t believe it,” Gavin said quietly. “I have no plan to kill Mungo. Why would I risk war like that?”

  “It happens. It’s in the history books.”

  He shook his head. “I cannot believe it. I would never do such a thing.”

  “You do. I’m sorry, Gavin.”

  He shook his head more vehemently. “This is nonsense. You are a Frazer spy. You’re trying to trick me somehow. I would never kill someone during peace talks.”

  “I’m not a spy. I used that key to come to the past to get your knife to save the highlands.”

  “I refuse to believe it.”

  “Fine. I’ll prove it.” She grabbed his hand, pulling him over to the door that led into the corridor outside the great hall. “See this door?” she asked, pressing his palm to the wood. “Watch.”

  She slid the silver key into the lock, turning it once to the right. The door locked at once. “What are you doing?” Gavin asked.

  “Proving it,” she said, unlocking the door once again. She pushed it open and Gavin’s jaw dropped at the sight of what appeared on the other side.

  The corridor that led outside to the courtyard was gone. What there was instead was impossible. Three men in long white cloaks stood in front of square screens with flickering images upon them. The men spun around at the sight of the open door, running toward them, calling Heather’s name as they came.

  Heather slammed the door shut just in time, locking it swiftly before turning to face Gavin. “Now do you believe me?”

  “What was that?”

  “The scientists who were guarding the door I came through.”

  “The things they were standing by. What were they?”

  “What, the computers? That’s a bit hard to explain. Think of them as complicated books.”

  “That ken I kill Mungo.”

  “Afraid so.”

  Gavin pulled out his sword.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, hands stretched out in front of her. “Please don’t kill me.”

  “What you say is true. I have no control over my fate. I have control over my actions now though. I swear I would never kill Mungo but you’ve shown me you speak the truth. The only way I can prevent war is to end my own life. That way I prevent fate from charting such a dark course.”

  “No,” Heather said, grabbing him around the waist, hugging him tight. “There is something else I must show you. Come with me.”

  She opened the door once more. The men had disappeared as had the strange room they were in. The corridor had returned as if it had always been there.

  Gavin followed Heather out and up the stairs to the next floor. She unlocked the door to her bedchamber, walking inside and crossing to her pile of clothes. Of course. If she was from the future, her clothes made sense, the strange things she’d been wearing when they first met. It was all starting to make sense.

  A heavy feeling sank into him, weighing him down. He was going to kill Mungo. The thought sickened him. It wasn’t the idea of killing the laird of the Frazers, he’d killed enough men in his time to have grown used to it.

  The part that galled him was the dishonor of killing someone during peace negotiations. That was a deadly sin, a way of ensuring he never made it into Heaven no matter what else he did with his life.

  Heather was rummaging in the pile, bringing out a small black box.

  “What is that?” he asked as she pressed something on the edge of it.

  “My cellphone,” she replied. “But that’s not important. Wait a second.”

  She turned away from him, pressing things on the device before turning back and lifting it up to his face. “What is this witchcraft?” he asked, looking down at the box that had come to life.

  “It’s my Kindle app and that’s an electronic book.”

  “Electronic book?”

  “It’s a history of the clans. Look, there’s your father.” She stroked the box and the words changed.

  Gavin marvelled at what he saw. A book with no pages. The text changed before his eyes. All she had to do was move her finger and the next page appeared. “Like magic,” he said out loud. “Where are the pages kept? Where do they go?”

  “Look,” she said.

  “These pages. They are blank. Why is that?”

  “Because I think I’m starting to understand all this. Tony thinks I can change the future by bringing back the knife but I think I can change it just by being here. These pages are blank because the future hasn’t been written yet.

  “We get to decide what it is. I think if you don’t want to kill Mungo, you won’t. I don’t think fate is decided already. I think it’s up to us. Tony can believe what he wants but something tells me I’m right about this. The book just proves my point. There’s nothing there because it hasn’t happened yet.”

  “Who’s Tony?”

  “A man who won’t be alive for seven hundred years. Try wrapping your head around that if you can. He gave me the key to come back here. He told me to steal your knife.”

  Gavin thought for a moment. “Have you thought maybe he’s got a different reason for wanting the knife.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know. It just seems very convenient that he’s interested in saving the lives of people hundreds of years before his own time.”

  “It’s not just that,” she said, rubbing her eyes as tears began to form. “There’s more to it.”

  “What?”

  “You killing Mungo Frazer ruins the Frazer family.”

  “Why does that matter?”

  “Because I’m descended from them. My family for generations were ruined by what you did. Stealing the knife fixes all that. The past is supposed to change. My family get to rewrite their history. That’s why I’m doing this.”

  “Except that hasn’t happened yet.”

  “And it might not. I’ve no idea what to do anymore, Gavin. I think I’m falling for you and that’s completely stupid as you’re laird of a great big massive clan and you’re all noble and I’m just a no one and I don’t even belong here and-”

  He cut her off. “Breathe for a minute. You’re going to faint if you don’t breathe.”

  She looked up at him through watery eyes. “I’ve no idea what to do. Help me.”

  “I ken what to do,” he said, holding her cheeks with his hands. Leaning down, he was about to kiss her when all hell broke loose. Horns began to sound, bells ringing, voices crying out in the courtyard. Men were roaring, swords were crashing into armor. “What’s going on?” he asked, running for the steps down.

  He made it to the entrance to the keep, freezing on the spot as he looked out. The castle had been overrun. How was that possible?

  “Keir!” someone screamed up at him. “He broke the sallyport door.”

  15

  Heather had never seen such violence. There were men fighting everywhere she looked. Arrows were flying over the battlements into the courtyard, many of them flaming, no doubt hoping to catch the thatched roofs alight.

  A couple of buildings were on fire, the rest holding up so far but for how long? Her eyes tried to take in the tableau before her but it was too much.

  Up on the battlements men were streaming over ladders, doing their best to swarm the defending army. More men were coming from around the side of the keep.

  “The sallyport,” Gavin spat. “I should have set more men guarding it. This is all my fault.”

  In the time he took to say that, Keir reached him. Their swords clashed high in the air. Keir took one look at the rage in Gavin
’s eyes, dropped his sword and ran back into the midst of the melee. Gavin went to go after him but Heather grabbed his arm. “It’s a trap,” she said. “Look!”

  Surrounding Keir were at least a dozen Frazer men, all of them heavily armed. He would have run right into the middle of them if it wasn’t for her.

  “Retreat,” Gavin called, waving at his men. “Into the keep, quickly!”

  The MacGregor men had trained for a situation like this many times. A row formed of shields, holding back the onslaught of the outlaws and the Frazers. The main entrance to the courtyard was opening. “Curse them all,” Gavin said. “Curse them all to hell.”

  Heather looked over his shoulder. The gates to the courtyard had been opened by outlaws, allowing more men inside, many of them on horseback. The swarm coming from the sallyport ran straight into them and for a moment there was chaos.

  That gave the MacGregors time to shuffle backward toward the keep. Heather couldn’t believe what was happening. So many men were dying in such a short space of time, their bodies being stepped on by those still alive.

  The outlaws looked wild with bloodlust, hunting for Gavin, hoping to be the first to reach him, to have the honor of killing him.

  Gavin pushed her backward as the men made their way slowly up the steps, fighting back the oncoming horde, every muscle straining to keep the attackers from breaking through.

  “Get ready with the bar,” Gavin called to Heather, positioning himself at the far side of the doors. She gripped the long wooden bar ready, waiting to be told what to do next.

  “Hold,” Gavin said as MacGregor men worked backward into the keep. “A little longer. Now!”

  The MacGregors ducked. A line of arrows flew over their heads, striking down the attackers closest to the door. At the same time Heather shoved with all her might.

  The door slammed shut and as it did so, the bar slid across, blocking the entrance of the aggressors. Swords slammed into the other side of the wood, the sound deadened by the thickness of the door.

  “We are safe,” Gavin said, mopping sweat from his brow.

  “For how long?” Bruce called across to him, wincing as one of the servants tended to a wicked cut on his shoulder. “It will not take them forever to set fire to the door.”

  “Six men to the floor above. Get some rocks down the murder holes. That’ll keep them away from the door for a while. The rest of you wait here.” He followed half a dozen men up the nearest stairs.

  He returned alone in under a minute. “The old crone is out there, giving orders to Jimmy the Snout.” Gavin’s voice grew quieter. “This is my fault. I should have expected them to go to the sallyport. They are digging into the corner of the foundations. I have no doubt she intends to set a fire down there. Burn us out or undermine the walls.”

  “What do we do?” Heather asked.

  “To the dungeon,” Gavin called.

  “We cannot fend off an army from a dungeon,” someone shouted.

  “We don’t need to fend them off,” Gavin replied. “Follow me. Women and children first.”

  Heather looked down. His hand had slipped into hers as he led the way over to a curtain across the far wall. Pulling it back revealed a door. Once that was unlocked he made his way down a narrow flight of stone steps to a dark corridor. “A torch down here,” he yelled back.

  People sobbed as they made their way in procession along the corridor. Heather heard children asking what was happening, mothers trying to soothe them. She ached to help, wishing she knew they would be safe. Was this in Tony’s plan? Or was she supposed to be home by now before all this happened?

  Something Tanya had said popped into her mind at that moment. The old crone had changed things. Had she thrown a spanner into the works? Been a niggling little addition to Tony’s scientists, a part of the equation they hadn’t planned for? Would Tony have mentioned the old crone if he knew about her? Surely, he would have done.

  A flaming brand was passed along from hand to hand until it reached Gavin. He used it to light candles on the wall. Soon the route was illuminated enough for the clan to make their way down another flight of stairs to an unlocked door. Heather glanced at the keyhole.

  You could go home, a voice whispered in her head. Put all this behind you. She ignored the voice. She couldn’t leave the MacGregors to their fate. In a short space of time she felt almost like she’d become one of them. She hadn’t even noticed it happening. Not to mention she had a conversation she needed to finish with Gavin.

  The idea of leaving them behind was bad enough but the thought of leaving Gavin made her feel sick to the stomach, the sensation far more powerful than the fear of dying in the siege. To imagine life without him was already difficult. Could anyone else ever live up to him? There was no one out there who could possibly kiss as softly as he could, or who could make her feel as safe.

  Not that she felt particularly safe at that moment. The thuds on the keep door were echoing down to them as they crammed into a windowless room in the very bowels of the castle.

  “Keep coming,” Gavin called, waving over his head. “This way. Heather, hold this.”

  She took the torch from him, feeling the heat of it as she watched him. He was running his hands over the rough stone walls. “Here,” he muttered, yanking at a stone. It came loose revealing a dark hole. Reaching into the hole, he tugged with his arm.

  In the corner, a large flat flagstone suddenly bent in half. “I had it put in a couple of years ago,” he said as Heather marvelled at the sight. “Looks like stone but is merely wood. Come on everyone, quietly as you can.”

  He led the way down a flight of steps, Heather behind him holding the torch to illuminate the passage.

  They descended into a tunnel that seemed to go on forever. Heather lost track of the time as they walked. By the time they emerged into the open, it was dark. Heavy rain had begun to fall.

  “Leave the torch behind,” Gavin said as he took the first step out of the tunnel. “We cannot risk them seeing the light.”

  The tunnel opened out into a thick wood, the trees crammed together, leaving barely enough room for people to emerge in single file. The thick canopy above kept some of the rain at bay but not enough. Soon the group was soaked.

  In silence they trudged out of the trees into the open. Looking back Heather could see the castle in the distance. People were cheering, the sound echoing off the surrounding mountains.

  No one was cheering in the MacGregor exodus. They made their way slowly across pastureland, Gavin in front. He glanced back at her.

  “What are you thinking?” she asked quietly.

  “That this is all my fault. That I should have guarded the sallyport. Or sealed it even. I can’t understand why it slipped my mind.”

  “I can,” she replied. “You got distracted by me.”

  He shook his head. “You are not to blame for this. I am.”

  “I distracted you when you should have concentrating on the siege. It’s my fault.”

  “It is not.” He looked to the front again, lapsing into silence.

  Heather wanted to believe him but she couldn’t. It was her fault. He looked so downhearted. She could see past the confidence he was portraying to his people. He was clearly hurt by what had happened and that was in no way surprising. He’d just lost his castle, the home of his clan, and all because she had to have his attention.

  She thought about what would have happened if she hadn’t come back to the past. First of all, the MacGregors would not have lost their castle. Gavin would have his full focus on the siege when it took place.

  She had no doubt he’d have thought more about the sallyport. She hadn’t even had chance to tell him in advance about Keir betraying the clan, not that it mattered anymore.

  “I cannot believe Keir would do that,” Gavin said about ten minutes later. “To think he would side with outlaws over his own laird.”

  Heather said nothing. She felt guilt washing over her. It was one more thing that sh
e was responsible for.

  “I saw him in the wood, talking to Jimmy the Snout. He killed Susanne but I’ve no doubt he was trying to kill me. Tanya said I came here for a reason.”

  “And what reason was that?”

  “According to her I’m supposed to help you defeat the old crone.”

  “How?”

  “It’s something to do with the key, I think.”

  “Your silver key?”

  “I think so. She said I had to decide whether to go home and leave you to it or stay and help. I never thought staying would mean this. I’m sorry, Gavin. I shouldn’t have distracted you from your duties.”

  “You did not distract me from anything.”

  “You’re very sweet to say that but it’s not true.”

  “It is true. You are not the reason we lost the castle. You were not in charge of our defenses. I was.”

  “And you were with me.”

  “That was my decision, not yours.”

  A voice called out from further back. “My laird, the children tire.”

  “Concentrate on your clan,” Heather said. “Not me.”

  Gavin held up a hand, coming to a halt, looking back at those gathering around him. “There’s a cave up ahead, about a quarter of an hour from here. We can rest out of the rain and the bairns can sleep. In the morning we will continue.”

  “Where are we going?” an elderly woman’s voice called out. “We have no home.”

  “We are alive,” he replied. “That is what matters. Dinnae worry yourself for now. Come, let us get out of this accursed rain.”

  He began walking again. Bruce made his way through the crowd to join Gavin at the front. “What are we going to do?” Bruce asked.

  “Take back our castle.”

  “I like that idea. How?”

  “I will kill the old crone. The rest of them will crumble once their leader is dead.”

  “I hear she cannot be killed by any mortal blade.”

  “We’ll see about that.”

  Heather listened to them talking quietly, wondering if she should go home. Tanya had been so sure she could help defeat the old crone but that hardly seemed possible. They were outside their castle, outnumbered, outfought, outmaneuvred.