The Highlander's Bargain (23 page)

“You will return to me what you took.” The high king floated above the wooden planks of the floor. Blue fire danced along the surface of his skin, and he glared at Giselle.

“It’s mine, Father.”

Father?
God’s blood, Giselle was the king’s daughter? What the bloody hell had he embroiled himself—and his love—in. The warrior’s brow lowered as he fixed his sights on Erin.

“It
was
yours, and I took it from you because you abused the pensieve and defied my laws.” The king glided toward Giselle.

Rob’s lungs seized. The old crone’s appearance shifted, turning ethereal before his very eyes. She was no longer the stooped, wrinkled old hag. Her skin smoothed to perfection, and hair the color of moonbeams cascaded down her back. Her eyes glowed an impossible blue. A halo of the same blue light emanating from her eyes gilded her entire form.

“I only use it to watch over my progeny. You forbade me to visit them through time. What choice did I have?” Giselle—no—Áine declared.

“And yet you do so regardless.” The king glanced their way.

“Of course I do. You would too if you had halflings to watch over.” She turned to the warrior. “How could you, Haldor,” she snapped, her tone dripping with disdain. “You were there when the pensieve was given to me. How dare you accuse me of stealing what was mine from the start.”

“I serve my king, Princess.” Haldor’s gaze slid to Áine and then once again focused upon Erin. “She does not belong here, and the human male—”

“Don’t you dare hurt him,” Erin gritted out between clenched teeth. “I belong with my husband.”

“Och, lass. Wheesht.” Robley’s heart pummeled against his rib cage, and tears blurred his vision. “Wheesht now, my love,” he begged, hoping against hope the warrior’s attention would stray from Erin and once again turn to the argument between the king and his daughter.

The air beside Erin rippled and pulsed with pale greens and pinks. Her hand was torn from his. “Rob!”

“Nay! Dinna take my wife from me,” he shouted. “Please, I beg of you . . .” She disappeared from his sight. “If you must send her back, send me with her, but dinna separate me from her,” he implored. “I canna bear the loss.” A rending grief stole the breath from his lungs and the beat from his heart. His soul ripped asunder, and yet he remained fixed to the wall, unable to move or to act.

Erin was gone, taking his reason for living with her. “Please, send me to her,” Rob rasped out.

“You have trespassed where you ought not to have tread, mortal.” Haldor stared at him, his features inscrutable. “But you have led us to the orchestrator of your crime against my king. With my liege’s permission, I will spare your life.” He glanced at the faerie king, who nodded slightly in agreement.

His limbs were once again his to command. “I canna bear to live without my wife by my side.” Robley gripped his dagger and lunged for Haldor.

“Foolish human.” The faerie warrior raised his hands.

The air rippled and shimmered before Robley, and joy exploded within him, replacing his sorrow. He would be with Erin, and it mattered not whether it be in his time or hers. Fixing her in his mind, along with her apartment and the year, he dove for the portal with all his strength.

Pressure assaulted him from all sides, hurling him through time and space. Blackness edged in around him, clouding his vision. He struggled to remain conscious. He had to remain fixed upon his love’s image, had to keep his mind focused upon the time and place he wished to be. Still, the darkness encroached, robbing him of his ability to focus, swamping him with misery until he could no longer hold on to his thoughts—or awareness. Unable to hold on, the darkness took him where it would, and his last thought was that he must surely be dying after all.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

E
rin fell through time’s portal to land with a thud—facedown in the middle of her living room floor. Her head throbbed and her joints ached, but those hurts were nothing compared to the pain in her heart.
My God! What just happened?
She rolled to her back as tears flooded her eyes. What had become of Robley? Had the faerie warrior killed him?
No!
She covered her face with her hands and forced her mind away from the unthinkable.

Somehow she’d managed to hold on to her purse while being hurled through time. She fished around inside for her cell phone. Once she had it, she drew it out, turned it on and checked the date and time. A sob erupted just before the battery died and the screen went black. How could it be? Today was the very same date and time she and Rob had been sent to the past.

How was it possible she hadn’t lost a single day of her life, yet at the same time she’d lost
everything
that mattered?

She’d been the one to insist they go to Giselle. Robley had known better from the start, and she hadn’t listened. None of them had listened.
Oh, Robley, what have I done?
She curled up into a fetal position.

The damned diamonds! That’s how the faerie had tracked them, and he’d waited to appear until
she
led him straight to Giselle—and to Robley, the only man she’d ever given her heart to completely. She might very well have been the cause of his death. Grief and anger tore her apart. She put her arms around her middle and sobbed until she had no more tears left to cry.

She must have fallen asleep, because she awoke to find her apartment dark. Drawing in a ragged breath, she prayed Giselle had spoken up on Rob’s behalf. He might still be alive. Right? After all, he’d only done the faerie’s bidding, and by the sounds of the argument, the pensieve really had belonged to Giselle. She grasped at that straw with both hands, wrapped her mind firmly around the hope and built a solid wall of denial to keep out the alternative.
Sure. He might be alive, but we’re separated by centuries, by an ocean and continents.

It might as well be a universe. She had no way to cross the divide.

Obviously the faeries used the crystals for a number of purposes. Maybe Giselle had manipulated the power so Erin couldn’t travel through time to return home before helping True. Maybe . . . She rose from the floor and turned on the lights before reaching into her purse for the leather pouch holding the two gems. Her hands shook as she opened the drawstring and dumped the crystals into her palm. Picking up the larger of the two, she closed her eyes and sent up a prayer. With Rob’s image firmly in her mind, along with the keep in Inverness and the date, she crouched down and sent the diamond spinning.

Nothing happened.

Her hopes shattered. She threw the second diamond across the room. It hit the back of the couch and came to rest in the place Rob always sat when they watched movies together. She blinked against the tears blurring her vision and imagined him sitting there with his sexy, dimpled smile aimed her way. The memory of his warm gaze stole the air from her lungs and turned her into a mess of blubbering misery. What gave the
Tuatha Dé Danann
the right to interfere with her life? Damn them.

Erin pushed herself off the floor and wandered down the hall to Robley’s room. She turned on the light and stared at his claymore leaning against the wall. He’d regretted losing the weapon. Hadn’t he said the sword had been made especially for him? Now it was hers. A rumpled T-shirt lay at the end of his unmade bed. Snatching it up, she brought it to her face and inhaled deeply. His scent brought a fresh wave of pain. Still, she breathed it in over and over. How long would the cotton hold his smell? Desperation clawed at her. Would his scent last longer if she kept the T-shirt in a ziplock plastic bag? She’d do it if that’s what it took to keep this reminder of him with her.

Hugging the cotton shirt to her chest, she crossed the room to his dresser and pulled open one of the drawers. It held his plaid.
Oh, God!
Memories of the day he’d fallen through time engulfed her. Every day they’d spent together played through her mind. His endearing gestures and mannerisms, his cocky, easygoing nature, his optimism, his fifteenth-century chivalry—she’d lost her perfect match. Everything about him made her a better person. Because of him, she’d made friends at Loch Moigh and finally felt like she belonged somewhere. How weird was it that the only time in her life when she’d had
a place
, or felt as if she belonged, existed long before she’d even been born?

Erin had to talk to someone, or she’d go nuts. Connor needed to know Rob wouldn’t show up to work for his next shift, or ever again for that matter. She headed back to the kitchen, still clutching Rob’s T-shirt, and used her landline to make the call.

“McGladreys’ residence, Meghan speaking.”

“Hey, Meghan, this is Erin Durie. Is your dad around?”

“Sure. Hold on.”

What would she say? How would Connor feel if she revealed how Rob had come to be in this century in the first place?

“Hello, Erin. What’s up?”

“Robley is gone.” Her chin quivered. “I thought you should know.”

“Gone?” A few seconds of silence passed before he continued. “When will he be back?”

A lump formed in her throat, and try as she might, she couldn’t speak around it. Her eyes brimmed with tears again. She should’ve waited until tomorrow to make this call. Everything was still too fresh. Too raw.

“Can ye drive, lassie?”

Had she left her car keys in the pocket of her Harley jacket? If so, the jacket was still in the chamber she’d shared with Rob. Another sob threatened to spill out of her. She’d slept in his arms just last night. Had she known it would be their last, she wouldn’t have slept at all. Swallowing hard, she shook her head. “No,” she whispered.

“I’ll come for you. Look for me out your front door.”

“OK,” she squeaked before hanging up. Her limbs heavy, she forced herself to her room and changed into jeans and a sweatshirt. She hadn’t even missed a day of school. At least she had obtaining her midwife certification to keep her going. She’d need a reason to get out of bed in the morning. She searched for her keys in her purse. They were there. Good thing. She grabbed a jacket out of her front closet and left her apartment to wait for Connor.

It didn’t take him long to reach her apartment building. Erin’s eyes widened as Mark Pilon hopped out of the car and held the door open for her. Great. She wanted to bare her soul, and now she couldn’t. She slid into the front seat, and Mark moved to the back. Disappointment coursed through her, and it must have come through in the expression she shot Connor. “Thanks for coming for me, but—”

“It’s all right, Erin.” Connor pulled his car away from the curb. “Mark knows everything.”

“He does?” She twisted around to glance at him. “You do? How?”

“I do teach high school physics, you know. I’m not stupid.” Mark raised an eyebrow. “Once I saw Connor and Robley sparring with their broadswords, I began to put a few things together—like the way Robley is always in medieval mode with his speech. And he did say he’d fought for real before. The way he reacted to my motorcycle was a big tell too. I confronted Connor, and he told me his story, but not Rob’s, though he did admit your
cousin
came here from the fifteenth century.”

“I’ve never thought of you as stupid, Mark.” She couldn’t help the defensive tone infusing her voice. “I only said Robley was my cousin because I didn’t know how else to explain him. He’d just landed in our time the day you met him.”

“Sure. I get that.” He shrugged. “I was hanging out with Connor when you called. Don’t worry. He’s dropping me off at my place on the way back to his.”

Mark’s hurt feelings and his interest in her surged toward her. She cringed, shutting out the unwanted emotions. “I’m sorry. I’m just not in the best of moods right now. It’s been a really rough few weeks. Day. I mean day.”

“It’s OK. Time isn’t linear. The past and the present coexist simultaneously, or so theorists believe.” Mark leaned forward and placed his hand on her shoulder. “I hope someday you’ll share your story with me.” He patted her shoulder before turning to Connor. “It’s the next corner, man. I’ll get out here so you don’t have to turn.”

Connor pulled over, and Mark climbed out of the car. He leaned down to peer at her, motioning for her to lower the window. She did.

“You ever need someone to talk to, my number’s in the club directory.” He nodded to Connor. “Later.”

“Later,” Connor said, returning the nod. Mark straightened and shoved his hands into his pockets, and Connor drove back into traffic.

Erin closed the window. She heaved a huge sigh and stared out the windshield. “I’ve been gone for about six weeks,” she said. “A faerie appeared in my apartment on this very date, only six weeks ago, and tossed me and Robley back to the fifteenth century.”

“You were sent back as well? Why do ye suppose?”

“The faerie didn’t intend to send me back with Rob. I just got caught up in the whole thing when I tried to douse the faerie with pepper spray.”

“Pepper spray on the fae? Hmm. This is a tale I wish to hear in full, but let’s wait until we’re at my house. Katherine will want to hear it as well.” He glanced at her. “Relax, lassie. You look as if you’ve been through quite a lot for one day.”

“You could say that.” She leaned back against the leather seat of his sedan and closed her eyes. “I married him, Connor. Robley and I said our vows before his clan, and now he’s lost to me forever.” She rubbed at the empty, aching place in her chest.

“Ah. I thought there might be something between the two of you.”

She swiped at the tears on her face. “I just needed to talk to someone who understands the whole time travel thing—someone who’s been through it.” She bit her lip, struggling to keep it together. “I need to be with people in this century who knew Rob.”

“Of course.” Connor turned into his driveway, parked the car and shut it off. “Come. I can offer you wine and sympathy. My wife and I are here for you.”

Gratitude sent a fresh spate of tears flowing. She really did need to get herself under control. Maybe talking about the whole thing would help. Connor led her to the door to their kitchen.

Kathy met them there, her expression filled with concern. “Oh, sweetie.” She drew Erin into a brief hug. “I’ve opened a bottle of wine, and we have all night. Tell us what happened.” Katherine walked to the counter, took a few paper towels from the roll and handed them to her.

A bottle of wine and three glasses awaited them at the kitchen table. Erin settled herself there and buried her face in the soft wad of paper towels. “Where do you want me to start?”

“Start at the beginning, lassie.” Connor’s deep voice washed over her, along with his concern. “Robley told me he fell into you at the Renaissance festival. Start there.”

“He planned his trip. He was going to stay here for a month and then return to his own century.” She leaned back and met their curious stares. “He made a bargain with a faerie named Áine. She lives among humans and calls herself Madame Giselle. I guess she’s a faerie princess or something.”

Connor’s shocked expression made her turn away. “Rob didn’t want you to know he had a way back. He thought it would upset you. And besides, things didn’t turn out as he planned anyway.”

“Things rarely turn out as we hope when it comes to the fae. Rob shouldn’t have worried about us. I would not go back even if I could. My life and family are here.” Connor reached for Kathy’s hand. “Tell us about this bargain Rob entered into.”

Erin accepted a glass of wine and launched into the tale, sharing all that had happened since the day Robley had fallen into her. By the time she was done, she’d consumed two glasses of the Merlot and felt the mellowing effects. “I even tried to use one of the diamonds to get back to him.” She sighed. “It’s pretty clear the entire thing was orchestrated by the damn faerie princess.”

“Humph.” Connor nodded.

Kathy leaned forward and placed her elbows on the table. “What do you intend to do now?”

“I’ll go to school on Monday.” Erin expelled a shaky sigh. “What else can I do but pick up the shreds of my life and continue on? There’s no way to go back, and I don’t even know if Rob is . . . if he’s still . . .” She blinked against the sting in her eyes and tried to swallow the tightness clogging her throat. All she could do was shake her head. “I just needed to talk to someone. Thanks for letting me purge, but there’s nothing to be done. I have a life to get back to, and that’s all there is to this heartbreak.”

“We’re here for you.” Kathy reached across the table and placed her hand over Erin’s. “Connor and I understand, and whenever you need to talk, give us a call.” She glanced at her husband. “In fact, I don’t think you should be alone tonight. Why don’t you stay in our guest room, and Connor will take you home after breakfast tomorrow morning? Sunday is waffle day around here.” She rose from her place and picked up the empty wineglasses.

“Thank you for the offer, but I really want to go home.” She had a Robley-scented T-shirt to snuggle with. She stood. “I hate to put you out. Are you OK to drive me home?”