The Highlander's Bargain (12 page)

Lydia frowned. “What manner of animal is a Harley?”

“’Tis a motorcycle, a mode of transport, no’ an animal at all, Aunt. Erin has pictures on her smartphone. Once everyone is here, we’ll share them.”

Malcolm returned, followed by Beth, the servant who had taken care of True when first she’d arrived. She held a tray in front of her, and the smell of lamb stew elicited a resounding rumble from his stomach.

Beth’s eyes widened when they lit on Erin. She curtsied. “Milady, milord, I’ve brought ye some of Cook’s stew. Once ye’ve done here for the evening, send for me, and I’ll show the lady to her chamber.” She set the tray on the small table in the corner and backed away, never taking her eyes from Erin.

“Beth, find whatever remains here of Elaine’s wardrobe. Our guest will make use of them. See to it that at least one of the gowns is made ready for her to wear on the morrow.”

“Aye, milady, right away. I’ve sent a maid to make ready a guest chamber.”

“I trow you will keep this to yourself.” Lydia smiled warmly and raised her gaze to Beth’s.

“Aye, milady.” She curtsied again before leaving.

“We can trust Beth.” William took his place beside his wife again. “She’s cared well for True since her arrival, and she kens her tale in full.”

Lydia reached for Sky, who yawned and laid her head on her granddam’s knee. “We’ll have to agree upon a plausible story to explain Erin’s sudden appearance in our midst—and your sudden reappearance, Rob.”

“Come eat something, Erin. You must be hungry.” Rob pulled out a chair from the table.

“I am. Thank you.” She allowed him to lead her to the table where Beth had placed the tray. “Thank you for everything,” she said, turning to his uncle and aunt. “For making me feel welcome, the food and . . .” Her voice trailed off, and she blinked as her eyes filled.

“Think nothing of it. You are most welcome, lass,” William told her gruffly. “You’ve naught to fash about. You are in our care now.”

Rob squeezed her shoulders. “A hot meal in your stomach will give you strength.”

He took the seat beside her and tore into his stew. “We can say I’ve returned from a visit with Elaine and her family,” he said between mouthfuls. “I met Erin there and persuaded her to return to Moigh Hall with me. The entire clan kens we need a wisewoman and midwife. They’ll accept the tale without question.”

The door to the solar opened, and a very pregnant True hurried through, her face flushed. Hunter followed, heading straight for Sky. The little girl fussed and held out her arms. Hunter gave her a big hug and kissed her tiny face all over until she giggled.

True’s eyes shot to Robley, taking in the leather jacket he still wore, his jeans and twenty-first-century shoes. “Nice jacket.” She shook her head. “It figures you’d take to my era like a duck to water. Welcome home, Rob. You gave us quite a scare. I was afraid you wouldn’t return to us.” Her expression solemn, she turned her gaze to Erin. Their eyes met and held.

“Oh.” Erin dropped the bread she’d just dunked into her bowl. Her gaze fixed upon True’s belly. She rose from the table and walked to True as if drawn by an invisible tether. “May I?” Her hands hovered over True’s belly.

“Of course.” True put her arms to her sides. “You have the gift? I felt your energy reaching for me.”

Erin nodded. “I can ease pain, and I get impressions about physical well-being. I’m Erin Durie, by the way. I got caught up in Robley’s drama with a faerie, and here I am.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Erin. I’m Alethia Goodsky, or I was anyway. Now I’m Lady True of clan MacKintosh. I got caught up in faerie drama too. I’ve been here for three years now.”

“I’m a midwife, by the way, and before that I was an OB-GYN surgical nurse.” Erin placed her hands on True’s belly, and a broad smile lit her face. Rob and his family went still, watching and waiting. Once again pride swelled his chest to almost bursting.

“Fraternal twins!” Erin announced. “Both your sons are healthy, quite active and eager to come into the world. Do you know how far along you are? I’m guessing between thirty and thirty-two weeks?” Erin stepped back and rubbed her hands together.

“I told you we were having twins.” True smirked at Malcolm. “Yes, I’m around thirty-two weeks, as close as I can tell.”

“I never doubted you,
mo cridhe
.” Malcolm paled. “I had only
hoped
you might be mistaken.”

“It’s all right,
mo céile
.” True crossed the solar and took his hand in hers. “Everything is going to be fine. I’m not the first woman to give birth to twins, and we have a twenty-first-century midwife with us now.” She turned to Erin. “My husband worries he’ll lose me to childbirth. When I was pregnant with Sky, he even asked Madame Giselle to send me to my century to give birth.”

“Twins do carry a greater risk, and they are often born early,” Erin said. “In fact, in another week, I want you confined to the upstairs. No lifting. No climbing stairs or strenuous activity at all.”

Malcolm pulled True down to his lap and put his arms around her. “I’ll see to it that my wife takes your words to heart, lass.”

True rolled her eyes. “I’m fine.”

“And we want to keep it that way. Aye?” William shot her a stern look. “You carry the future earl of Fife, good daughter, not to mention you hold my son’s heart in your wee hands. You
will
listen to your husband in this.”

“All right. Enough. I’ll do whatever our new midwife says.” She grinned at Erin. “The men in this age are very bossy. You may as well get used to it.” She glanced at him. “Can we move on? I want to hear about Robley’s adventures, but first, Sky and Hunter need to go to bed.”

“Och, Ma! I’m no’ a bairn. Tell her I’m no’ a bairn, Da.” Hunter sent Malcolm a pleading look.

“Hunter is no’ a bairn.” Malcolm arched a brow and shrugged.

“I’m almost eight winters, and I’m a page.” Hunter shot a look of pride Erin’s way. “Da, tell Ma I can stay.”

“Nay.” Malcolm set True on her feet and stood. “You will listen to your mother. Always. There will be time enough for you to hear the tale another time. I’ll call Beth to take you both.”

Robley pushed his empty bowl aside. “Erin, come finish your stew, and if your chamber is ready, ’twould be best if you also took your leave. Give me your phone, though, so I can share the pictures.”

“See? Told you. Bossy.” True snorted. “MacKintosh men are all controlling and arrogant, and mine is the worst of the lot.” She kissed Malcolm’s cheek and laughed at his disgruntled expression as he left the solar.

“I really am beat. Plus, I know Rob’s story. I was there for the whole thing.” Erin fished her iPhone out of her purse and handed it to him. “If there’s a place ready for me, I’d like to call it a night.” She glanced at True. “We can talk more tomorrow.”

“Of course. I’ve been there. I know what the journey through time does to you.” True lifted the leather Harley jacket from the bench and handed it to Erin before settling herself in the spot Malcolm had vacated.

Sky climbed over to snuggle against her mother. “Night-night,” she muttered before sticking her thumb into her mouth.

“That’s right, Sky.” True kissed her daughter’s forehead and ran her finger along her cheek. “Our guest is going to bed, and so are you.”

“I’m sure your chamber is ready, my dear,” Lydia added. “Beth will take you to it anon.”

“Does anyone ken what a pensieve is?” Rob asked. “’Tis at the center of the tale I’m about to share, and I’ve no bloody idea what one might be.” Content to bide his time until the children and his lady were gathered up and led to their rest, he didn’t want to begin his tale with Erin present. He needed his family’s help and guidance in more matters than one.

“A pensieve is an object infused with magic,” True answered. “When you look into one, you can see the past, the future or spy on others in the present.”

The laird shook his head and sighed. “I willna ask how you ken this, good daughter.”

“Harry Potter movies?” Erin asked, glancing at True.

“Exactly.” True laughed.

“You could have asked me, Rob.” Erin shrugged. “I have all the movies on DVD. We could’ve watched them together.”

Malcolm returned, trailed by Beth. Erin and the bairns were led off to their rest, and his cousin settled himself beside his wife. “I’ve dispatched a messenger to Meikle Geddes. I’m certain your parents will be here within a few days.”

“My thanks.” Rob raked his hand through his hair, unsure where to begin. “I was bespelled by Madame Giselle to take the journey to the future. I am sure of it now. I couldn’t shake the compulsion from my mind, and she made it far too easy. That I landed in Erin’s arms when I came through time’s passage only convinces me even more she’s meant to be here. We need her, but . . .” He shook his head.

“Start from the beginning, lad,” his uncle admonished. “Erin mentioned drama with a faerie, and I gather you’re in some difficulty. May as well make a clean breast of it so that we can put our heads together and find a solution.”

“Och, aye, Uncle. You could say I’ve landed in quite a bog.” Rob launched into the story, leaving nothing out, including the part about Connor McGladrey and the job he’d been doing for the older time traveler. He passed Erin’s phone around so they could see the pictures for themselves. Finally, he shared what had transpired with the faerie who appeared in Erin’s apartment. “I have thirty days to convince Madame Giselle to return the stolen pensieve—or my life is forfeit.”

“Shite, Robley,” Malcolm bit out. “Did we no’ tell you to keep your distance from the fae? Do ye ne’er listen?”

“Malcolm, making him feel worse is not going to help.” True rested her hand on her husband’s forearm. “We need to focus on finding a way to help him. None of this is Robley’s fault. I wondered if Giselle might have planted the compulsion within him, and now I know she did. I’ve no doubt she wanted Erin here. Maybe she’s just looking out for me and our twins. To her, Rob is nothing more than a pawn. She managed to find a way to kill two birds with one stone. Erin is here, and Giselle has the pensieve.” She turned to Rob. “You and Malcolm must travel to Inverness to confront her.”

“Me!” Malcolm’s brow shot up. “What have I tae do with this tangle? You ken how I feel about the fae. I dinna wish to be within a league of her.”

“Giselle knows you’re my husband.” True placed her hands on her belly. “Obviously, I can’t travel, or I’d talk to her myself. If she knows how much we care for Rob, maybe she’ll find a way to fix all of this.”

“’Tis unlikely,” Rob muttered. “I will no’ ask any of you to embroil yourselves further in this mess. Malcolm is needed here, and we canna put his safety at risk. What I seek from you are thoughts and ideas. Any notions of how to extricate myself are most welcome.”

He scrubbed his face with both hands, weariness pressing upon him like a millstone. “And I must have your promise that Erin will be protected and given a place of honor within our clan should I fail. ’Twill ease my mind knowing she’ll be taken care of no matter what becomes of me.” A lump formed in his throat, and he tried to clear it away. “If I somehow survive, I plan to marry Erin. She’s . . . I . . .” He blinked against the burn in his eyes, his jaw clenching.

“Of course. You need no’ even ask. ’Tis done.” His uncle pinned him with a look filled with concern. “However we might aid you in this, we will. Mayhap your ties to True and Hunter will be of some help. Mayhap we can gather together enough coin to buy the pensieve back.”

Rob grunted. “I doubt silver and gold hold much value to the fae. ’Tis unlikely I will see Candlemas this year, Uncle.” He raised his eyes to each member of his beloved family. “I leave for Inverness at dawn.” He stood and stretched. “Take care of Erin in my absence. Tell my parents I love them, and pray for me. If all goes well, I will be back within a se’nnight.”

CHAPTER TEN

A
fter they handed the children off to Sky’s nursemaid, Erin tried to memorize what landmarks she could while following Beth down the corridor. Without a guide she’d be lost. Her palms grew damp, and her heart pounded. Already she missed Rob’s steadying presence. More than anything, she longed to have him beside her, with her hand safely clasped in his.

Beth stopped at a heavy wooden door and opened it for her, “Here we are, milady.”

The fire burning in the small fireplace cast a warm glow over the sparse furnishings, calming her frayed nerves. A single chair sat by the fire. Several pegs protruded from the thick stone walls, and a wooden trunk sat on the plank floor beneath. Beth turned down the blankets on the narrow bed. “Do ye need aught before ye turn in, milady?”

Yes! I need Robley.
“Where is Robley’s chamber in relation to this one?” She hung her Harley jacket on a peg and wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans before turning to Beth.

Beth’s brow rose slightly, and she wouldn’t meet her eyes. “He’s no’ married, milady. He’ll stay with the garrison or mayhap make use of his parents’ chamber since they’re no’ in residence.”

Great. Not like she could walk into the garrison’s barracks to look for him, and judging by Beth’s body language, seeking him out in his parents’ chamber was a definite no-no. Her stomach plummeted. Maybe he’d stop by to check on her.

Beth lifted something lying across the end of the bed. “I’ve a night rail for ye, milady.” Glancing at Erin’s clothing, she handed her the linen garment. “And there’s water in the ewer by the hearth should ye wish tae wash.” Her head canted in the direction of the earthenware pitcher. A few squares of material had been laid next to it, and a small piece of soap rested on the edge of the stone fireplace. “I put a few willow twigs on the mantel if ye should wish tae clean your teeth. I’ll leave ye now if that be all.”

Biting her lip, Erin stifled the urge to have Beth ask Robley to come to her. “Thank you. You’ve thought of everything.”

“Sleep well, milady.” Beth curtsied and left, shutting the door behind her.

Feeling utterly lost, she stood in the middle of the room with the nightgown in her hands. What was she doing in this time? Would she ever return to her own? School, her family, friends—she might never see them again. Fighting tears, she laid the nightgown on the bed and began to undress. Her jeans and shirt she placed in the trunk, and thinking better of leaving the twenty-first-century leather jacket on the peg, she took it down and hugged it to her chest. Memories of her day with Robley washed through her. He’d been so happy with the jacket and looking at all the motorcycles.

“Will I ever again see him that happy?” She swallowed against the tightness in her throat, washed and put on the garment Beth had given her. She crawled into bed, surprised to find how comfortable it was, and burrowed into the down mattress. With a sigh, she let sleep take her far from her worries.

Erin awoke to the sound of tapping. Disoriented, she opened her eyes a crack and surveyed her surroundings. A shuttered window let sunlight slip in through the cracks, lighting an unfamiliar room with walls of stone. A small hearth held the ashes from the fire that had kept her warm through the night, and the borrowed nightgown she wore had twisted up around her legs.

It all came back to her in a rush of misery. She groaned, dropped her head back on the pillow and covered her eyes. Another tap sounded against the door.
Robley?
“Yes?” she called.

The door opened, and Beth strolled in with a pile of clothing draped over her arm. “Good morn, milady. I’ve brought ye something to wear.” She opened the shutter to reveal a greenish, rippling pane of glass set in a hinged leaden frame. Light flooded in through the narrow window.

“I’m tae take care of you, just as I did our Lady True when first she arrived. I’m still her maid, but for the time being, I’m tae look after ye as well.”

This part was said with a great deal of pride, bringing a smile to Erin’s face, despite her disappointment that Rob hadn’t come for her. “I’m grateful. I’d like to bathe if possible.” And she’d also have to visit the garderobe, but she already knew where to find that particular room from the night before.

“Aye, we have a bathing room, milady.” Beth hung the gown and undergarments on one of the pegs. “Come. Lady True awaits. I’m tae take ye down to the great hall tae break yer fast once yer ready.”

Beth held a robe for her, and Erin threw back the covers and rose to slip her arms into the soft blue velvet. She tied the cord around her waist. “What time is it?”

“’Tis almost Terce.”

She’d heard the hours of the day were measured by the church during this era, but she had no idea what Terce meant. It could be well into the afternoon for all she knew. She followed Beth down the corridor and waited while she checked to make sure the room was free.

A young boy around nine or ten years old shot out, flashing her a curious look. “There’s plenty of hot water, mum,” he said, bobbing his head before rushing off with buckets in each hand.

“Come, milady,” Beth called from within.

The room had a steamy dampness to it and smelled of scented soap. Two narrow windows, also holding glass panes, lit the room. Beth filled one of the two copper tubs from a spigot on the bottom of a tank. The tank had been set into a hearth-like structure with a fire ring underneath. Ingenious. An early version of a water heater. Several buckets were stacked against the wall, along with a folded wooden screen. Benches were set around the room, and on one of them, several earthenware jars sat next to plates holding chunks of soap.

“Our Lady True has the best recipes for soaps and shampoos. Her concoctions are every bit as good as the milled soaps from France.” She set one of the dishes of soap on a stool next to the tub she’d filled.

Erin picked it up and took a sniff. It had a floral smell and held bits of whatever plant went into making it. “Thanks.” She unbraided her hair. “Shampoo you said?”

Beth lifted one of the earthenware jars from the bench and set it next to the soap. “Och, aye. The chandlers make the soaps and shampoos now. They’re two elderly widows in the village. They offer them for sale along with the candles they make, adding quite a bit tae their coffers. ’Tis a good thing. Our Lady True always looks for ways tae improve the lives of those less fortunate. ’Tis one of the reasons we call her
nas fíor
, true of heart.”

She poured the last bucketful of water into the tub. “Do ye need help? I’ve set clean cloths right here so ye can dry off.” She gestured to the squares of linen folded on a bench next to her robe and nightgown. “And here’s one tae wash with.” She draped a smaller piece over the edge of the tub.

“This is great. Thanks.” Erin smiled. Beth was a talker, and she was already fond of the vivacious maid.

“I’ll go and get things ready for ye in yer chamber then.” Beth crossed the room to the door. “Leave the water and the linens. The lad will take care of them once he returns.” She curtsied and left.

Thoughts cluttered her mind as she slipped out of the nightgown and stepped into the hot bath. She hated the possibility that she might never hold that midwife certification in her hands. To her, that piece of paper represented so much more than the right to practice. She couldn’t put her finger on what exactly, but the feeling was there anyway.

A lump formed in her throat as thoughts of her family filled her.
Sure, they were a dysfunctional jar of mixed nuts, but they were
her
mixed nuts—steps, halves, shirttail cousins and her mom, even her dad whom she rarely saw. Boy, did she have a few questions for him. Did he know he had faerie blood? Did he have the same kind of abilities she had? What if she never got home?

Worse, what if Robley couldn’t find a way to return the pensieve? The thought of him dying caused an ache so deep she could hardly breathe. She needed to see him, needed him to take her into his arms and tell her everything would be all right. Between the two of them, somehow they’d get the pensieve back in time. They had to. Did having a strand or two of faerie DNA carry any weight with those beings? There had to be a way to use her ties with the fae to their advantage.

She ducked her head under the water, letting the sudden flow of tears merge with the bathwater. There was nothing she could do about anything, and thinking about her own powerlessness would drive her crazy if she let it. She reached for the shampoo, washed and rinsed her hair, and then she finished the rest of her bath quickly. True had been through this whole time travel thing, and if ever Erin needed anyone’s friendship and advice, it was now.

As she dried off, she made a mental list of things to do. Once she asked True where he was, she’d find Robley. They needed to talk. More than that, she needed to ground herself in the familiarity of his presence. She slipped into the robe and put the soap and shampoo back where they belonged. On the way to the door, she gathered up her borrowed nightgown and headed back to the guest chamber.

The fire had been stirred back to life, and Beth sat her on a chair next to the radiating heat. She used the linen Erin had wrapped around her head to squeeze out the excess water from her hair, and then she began to comb through the tangles for her. “That feels good,” Erin said, closing her eyes.

“Och, best leave it down till it dries,” Beth said. “Ye have lovely hair, milady.”

“So do you.” Erin glanced at her over her shoulder. Beth’s golden hair shone with good health. She had a sweet look about her, and her blue eyes sparkled. Erin imagined how her reenactment club would take to her. “I wish you’d call me Erin.”

“Mayhap in your chamber, Erin, but ’twould no’ be proper anywhere else in the keep. You’re the young lord’s lady.”

I am?
She swallowed against the sudden constriction in her throat. The need to lay eyes on Rob and assure herself that he was OK overwhelmed her. “I’d really like to get dressed and go downstairs now.”

“As you wish.” Beth quickly finished combing her hair and fetched the chemise from the peg. She slipped it over Erin’s head. “I’ll personally see tae washing the clothes ye wore last night. Once they’re dry, ye’ll find them back in yon trunk.” Next came the long, sage-green velvet tunic and finally a darker green surcot with gold trim. “’Tis a lovely color for ye, Erin. The gown brings out the green in yer eyes.”

“Thank you.” What would people think when they saw her leather lace-up hiking boots underneath? She’d be glad she had them once the snow started falling. They were warm and sturdy. “Elaine’s clothes fit well.”

“Aye, ye are near the same height as Lady Elaine, though a bit thinner,” she said, giving the laces at the sides a final tug before tying them off. “There. Off to the great hall now. Lady True awaits. I ken she had Cook save ye a bit of porridge to break yer fast. Ye must be famished by now.”

Erin followed her into the passageway. “I don’t suppose there’s coffee?”

“Coffee?” Beth’s face clouded. “I dinna believe so. I’ve no’ heard of coffee. Is it a kind of grain ye eat where ye come from?”

“No. It’s a drink made from ground-up roasted coffee beans and boiling water.” Lord, she’d miss her morning caffeine fix, among other things.

They took the narrow stairs down to the great hall. True sat in a chair next to the fireplace. She had a lap full of baby clothes, and a basket holding sewing gear sat on the ground beside her. She started to get up when she saw Erin.

“Stay where you are.” Erin waved her back down before turning back to Beth. “Thank you, Beth.”

“Milady.” She curtsied and took her leave.

“I saved you some breakfast,” True said, pointing with her chin to a covered bowl on the trestle table.

“Coffee?” Erin asked hopefully.

“Afraid not.” True laughed. “I can have Cook bring you rosehip or chamomile tea if you’d like. I never was a coffee drinker, but I can imagine it’s going to be a few weeks before you stop missing the caffeine.”

Erin took a seat at the table and uncovered the bowl. The smell of honey wafted up from the oatmeal. Picking up the wooden spoon, she glanced at True. “Coming here must’ve been quite an
adjustment for you. I have so many questions.” Her stomach rumbled in protest, and she took a few bites of the oatmeal. To her surprise, it was very tasty, though much more coarse than store-bought Quaker Oats.