All for the Heiress (7 page)

“Sorry,” he said immediately. Maybe too immediately. “Of course not.” He tugged on Goldie’s arm. “Let’s go.” He led them away, turning several times to get another look at her.

She stood there waving until she was certain they were well and truly gone, even going so far as to walk down the path to make sure they didn’t stop somewhere to spy on her. When she returned, Shane grabbed her and squeezed her shoulders.

“Oh my God, did ye see them? Was that really wee Magnus? And the lasses, were they—”

“Aye, I know,” she said. “We need to get out of here, though. I don’t think they believed me for a second.”

“That’s for sure.” He flipped her ponytail. “What do ye think’s different about your hair that set them off? Do ye go platinum blonde?”

“Doubtful.” She started jogging, wanting to put this time far away from them, where it belonged. She felt sick and jittery, knowing what she now knew.

Back at their clearing, she lay down in the leaves and stared at the branches rustling overhead. “What now?”

“What d’ye mean, what now? We try again.” Shane nudged her with his toe and shook his head down at her. “I dinna know what brought us to the future, but at least it worked. It’ll work again.”

She sat upright with a gasp. “I think I brought us to the future.” She wiped her hand over her face, and swallowed hard. “I wondered about Mags when I sang the song, if I’d get to see him grow up.”

“Bloody hell.” Shane whistled and sat down across from her. “That’s amazing. Okay, we know what we need to do, then. You think about that tosser Oliver and I’ll concentrate on Catie.”

She nodded, not bothering to defend Oliver’s honor, still too shaken up by her interaction with the children. Magnus was a baby, and the girls weren’t even born yet. She kept getting waves of nausea and wondered if it was more than just shock.

“Do you feel sick at all?” she asked.

He looked up from grinding the herbs and pursed his lips. “Aye, maybe a bit. It’s weird knowing stuff I guess we’re not supposed to know. It’s messing with our equilibrium.”

She hoped that was all it was and took out the knife, pricking her own finger this time before handing it over to Shane.

“Concentrate,” he reminded her.

He slashed his finger and began the chant. She closed her eyes as she sang, and tried to recall Oliver’s features, Catie’s manner of speech, and the clothes they wore. She pictured herself being helped into a carriage, Oliver gallantly taking her hand and smiling at her. She wanted so badly to see the townhouse in London that he’d spoken of, live the life of a fine lady, adored by …

“Mellie, wake up.”

She opened her eyes to find she was flat on her back again, Shane looking down at her. His worried face relaxed when she blinked several times and accepted his help in sitting up.

“What happened?” she asked, looking around. “I concentrated as hard as I could.”

“Me too,” he told her, nodding to a tree a few feet away. “I woke up over there a minute ago and have been hollering at you since.”

An icy blast of wind whipped through the trees and she shivered. Unless the temperature had suddenly dropped thirty degrees in two minutes, they had definitely moved through time, at least further along into winter.

“Christ, it’s cold,” he said, pulling her to her feet. “We need to get out of this.”

She was still badly shaken from meeting Magnus and the girls, children who weren’t even born yet. She stepped closer to Shane, both for warmth and because he was the only thing she was sure was real. They were sturdily dressed, swathed in wool and winter underwear, and she still felt cold. Her thick shawl had been perfect for the weather they left behind, but didn’t do much to cut through the biting wind that persisted in whistling all around them. He looked at the sky and shook his head.

“Come on, Mel, we need to move. It’s gonna rain soon.”

She laughed, and he peered worriedly into her face. If she didn’t suck it up, he was going to ask her if she was okay, and she didn’t feel like dealing with that question, because she most definitely was not. With a groan, he took her hand and began to lead her away from the castle.

“We’re going the wrong way,” she said, everything snapping into place at last.

“No, we’re not going back there. If we did it wrong again … well, I dinna want to get tossed in the tower. Let’s go to the village. Either way we can get warm, aye?”

“If we came to the right year, we can find Pietro. Don’t you want to see him again?”

It had taken her nearly an hour to make him believe their old stable master had indeed gone back in time and found love with the daughter of a long ago Glen laird, and not re-enlisted in the RAF like the cover story Piper spread.

“If we’re even a slight bit off, though, we’ll be faced with a bunch of suspicious Glens, and every story I’ve ever heard of them doesna end well for outsiders. Let’s just go get a pint and figure out what year we’re in.”

He sounded defeated, and even though he kept a brisk pace, she could see the wilted way he held his shoulders against the wind. She hadn’t been able to make the spell work at all, and he’d done it wrong the first time. His confidence probably wasn’t at an all time high. A crack of thunder put a spring in her step, not wanting to get caught out in a storm.

They made it to the edge of the forest before the first drops fell in big icy splats, and they stopped dead at their first sight of the village road. Mellie wiped the rain off her face and walked into the middle of the rutted, packed dirt trail. She turned in a circle, seeing the bridge, or a bridge, as it wasn’t the same one she’d crossed thousands of times. And that bridge, her bridge, was almost a hundred years old.

“I think we did it,” she said.

Shane stared in the direction of the village, there was nothing hampering the view, and the only things she saw when she followed his line of sight were trees, hills, and the spire of their church off in the distance.

“Aye, we definitely went backward this time.” He took her hand and pulled her down the middle of the road.

Her excitement built the closer they got and when they finally made it to the high street, or what must have passed for it, if she hadn’t been shivering violently from the cold rain seeping through her shawl, she would have thought she was dreaming.

“My inn isna here yet,” he said, stopping and turning. “I think we passed where it was, or will be, I suppose. Nothing’s here.” He laughed. “I dinna know what I thought it’d be like. Not this, though.”

She pointed to a building further down the street, with a sign and an inviting lantern hung from its porch rafters. “That must be the only one in this time,” she said, pressing her hands to her chest to calm her sudden nerves. In moments they’d find out when they were, and have to speak to people of this time.

“What should we say?” he asked. “Are ye my wife or my sister?”

“Wife, to be safe. We don’t look anything alike.”

She could tell he felt as scared as she did, but he valiantly hid it under teasing bravado as he slung his arm around her shoulder. “Come along then, dear. Let’s get a room.”

Magnus paused outside Daisy’s bedroom door and listened to her and his sister’s squeals of laughter, a movie playing softly in the background.

He and Goldie were spending the weekend at the castle while their parents were at a book fair in London with his Uncle Martin. Up until now, they’d all three bunked together, but he’d had to go and open his big mouth and complain about how childish the girls were, and how he was far too big to have to sleep in Daisy’s babyish princess explosion room.

He was promptly assigned his own room, manly grey and beige, with a fully stocked bookcase, but no television and no toys. And the dark wood closet door didn’t shut properly, which didn’t give him the creeps or anything, but still. Thinking about all the games he’d miss out on, he realized he’d made a grave error in pressing for independence. He leaned closer to the door and frowned at a renewed peal of giggles. What was so fun in there, without him? Traitors.

He tightened the belt of his robe and padded down the stairs. He’d heard his aunt and uncle heading downstairs and he knew he had to tell them what they’d seen earlier that day, even though he’d promised silence.

Auntie Piper smiled warmly when she saw him peep around the kitchen door. Even though it was close to ten, he knew he wouldn’t be scolded. The weekends he and Goldie got to spend with them were the best. His own mother was a bedtime tyrant, barely giving them an extra half hour, even on holidays.

“Would you like some hot chocolate, Mags?” she offered, and he nodded eagerly.

“How’s your solitary room, lad?” Uncle Lachlan asked.

“Solitary,” Magnus sighed. He noticed them exchange a look and didn’t want to seem ungrateful so quickly added, “It’s really good, thanks.”

Auntie Piper gave him some apple slices with his cocoa and sat down at the plank table. She patted his uncle’s hand and reached across to pat his as well. He worked very hard not to roll his eyes and sipped his cocoa, building up his courage.

“Erm, I saw Auntie Mel in the forest earlier today,” he said after a long fortifying swig.

“Did you? I saw her at the clinic when I got my check up this morning.” Auntie Piper patted her belly.

Uncle Lachlan smiled and rubbed her big stomach and Magnus grimaced, feeling sorry for Daisy. Whether she had a brother or sister on the way, she was going to regret losing her only child status. He couldn’t remember a time he hadn’t had Goldie around, but he’d always envied Daisy’s freedom. The new kid was going to be a real pain in her bum.

Hearing that Mellie had been at the clinic sealed it for him. There was no way she could have been both places. He cleared his throat.

“The thing is, I don’t think it was our Mellie,” he said.

Auntie Piper’s face turned chalk white. “What do you mean?” she asked.

Ever since Magnus had been old enough to understand, his mum had explained to him about the weird things that happened on Glen land, what to be wary of, what to do if he should ever find himself inexplicably in another time. He and Goldie had always thought it was a fun game, even though his mum and dad were deadly serious about it.

“Well, her hair was different, for one,” he said, getting up and wandering to all the pictures on the refrigerator door, some of them stacked three or four deep. He found one and showed it to them. “It was more like this.”

“Ah, bugger,” Uncle Lachlan said, getting an elbow for the curse word. Magnus tried not to smile.

“And she was dressed like a historical re-enactor.” Magnus watched their eyes go wide and his aunt silently mouthed the same swear his uncle had just said.

“Surely not.” Uncle Lachlan tried to be reassuring, but it was clear he was shaken. “Oh, that daft girl. Piper, love, do ye have any recollection of anything like her disappearing for any great lengths of time?”

Auntie Piper shook her head, studying the picture. “She hasn’t worn her hair like this in years. It could have been seven, eight, who knows how many years ago. I don’t really remember anything out of the ordinary, no, but …” She trailed off, looking sick.

“What is it, love?”

“Do you remember when your sister, uh, visited? And Mel had that little crush on Oliver?”

“Bloody hell, ye dinna think?”

She swatted him for swearing and shrugged. She then asked Magnus to repeat everything Mellie had said, and exactly how she was dressed. He did his best to remember everything, certain none of it was the least helpful.

“Everything has finally worked out,” Lachlan groaned. “And now this. What if she upsets something?”

Magnus felt terrible for worrying them so, but they assured him he did the right thing.

“Why don’t you go back upstairs, sweetie,” Auntie Piper dismissed him in the nicest possible way. “Oh, I know you wanted your own room, but I’d really rather you sleep in with the girls if you don’t mind. They’ll stay up chattering all night, so be the voice of reason and turn the lights off by midnight, okay?”

“Oh, okay, if that’s what you want,” Magnus said.

He saw her wink at Uncle Lachlan, but he didn’t mind, glad for the opportunity to get back in on the fun and still be able to save face.

He paused to eavesdrop outside the kitchen door for a few moments, to be able to have some gossip as a peace offering to the girls after he’d called them babies and insulted Daisy’s room, and just because he felt it was sound practice to know what went on.

“We’ll have to go after her,” Auntie Piper said in a distressed voice. “Oh, I thought we were done with this nonsense.”

“I shall wring the lass’s neck when I find her, rest assured,” he said. “I seriously canna believe Mellie would do such a thing. But love, ye canna go with me. Who will watch the children until Sam and Evie get back?”

There was a short silence before Auntie Piper said firmly, “There’s no way you’re going without me. I’m sure Padma and Archie can keep them. Hopefully it won’t take long, and Daisy loves sweet little Ben.”

Magnus sighed. He didn’t have anything against Archie and Padma. In fact, if he remembered correctly, Padma was one of his many godparents, and they were usually pretty fun. Archie had loads of cool swords and tools from the past. But their new baby was a major attention hog, and since he was the oldest, he’d be expected to help, possibly even with nappy changes. Babies. He just didn’t get the craze for them.