All for the Heiress (8 page)

Auntie Piper grumbled and he leaned closer to hear the rest of the conversation. “Ugh, I wish I could think of when it happened. Maybe we could prevent her from going in the first place, wring her neck before she goes.”

“Perhaps we dinna remember this because it hasna taken place yet in our past,” he said soothingly. “Ye may yet get your chance at strangling her. We canna let on to our Mellie, though, in case we do prevent it. Och, love, I’m getting a headache from all the things this could set awry.”

Magnus was just about to head back upstairs when he heard his uncle say they’d set out the next morning, after dropping them off at Padma’s, and his aunt sighed unhappily.

So, his Auntie Mellie had been some sort of hellion rabble rouser when he’d been a baby? That was interesting. Magnus worried until he hit the second floor landing, then decided to play a prank on Daisy and his sister. He could afford to scare them, as they’d forgive him as soon as he offered to share what he’d just learned.

Shane held onto his last scraps of courage as he looked at Mellie, bedraggled and seeming on the verge of losing it. What had they been thinking? Well, he had the excuse of not really believing it would work, honestly not really believing a word Mel told him about Catie being from another time. He’d hoped it was true, wanting so badly to see Catie again, but was mostly happy that Mel was acting friendly to him for the first time in years, glad to hang out with her like old times. Now they were soaked with frigid rain, in the town he grew up in, but didn’t recognize at all save for the church. He half wanted to go in and pray he’d wake up.

His parent’s inn, the place he’d spent all his spare weekends and evenings, was gone, or not gone, but not built yet. That distinction jarred him like a hard, unexpected blow to his funny bone, vibrating up into his consciousness, but not quite being accepted. His neighborhood wasn’t here, the place where he thought it should be was forest. Everything was forest. Or mud.

Mel shivered and blinked more rain drops out of her eyes. He needed to get it together, and go into the inn and get them a room. She took his arms and stepped close, surprising him.

“Listen,” she said, glancing at the inn door. “So what if we’re strangers, that’s what inns are for. We know what’s going on, so it seems really obvious to us, but honestly, who would ever think someone came from another time?” She nodded encouragingly as he thought about this. “Would you have ever guessed it about Lachlan before I told you? And you never twigged to Catie either, you just though she was quirky.”

He began to feel better as her words sank in. It was true, no one would ever believe such madness if it was explained to them outright. Certainly no one would assume it.

“Thanks, Mel. Just keep near the door and dinna make eye contact with anyone.” He held out their coins. “Say a prayer for me.”

She stayed close behind him, and the feel of her hand on his jacket reassured him as he pushed open the door and stepped into the warmth. He’d grown up in a hotel, and even though it was different from anything he’d ever been in, he instantly felt at home. He nodded to the one old man hunched at a table near the fire, and looked around. Since there wasn’t a check-in area, he made his way further in, asking the girl behind the rough wood bar if they had any rooms.

She stood up and gave them a once over. He reached behind and took Mel’s hand while keeping a neutral half smile on his face.

“Aye,” she grunted. “Will ye be wanting a meal? There isna much left, but I could get ye a bit of broth and bread.”

“That sounds brilliant, thanks,” he said.

A hard knuckle in his back made him quickly ask if they could have the food brought to the room, not sure what Mel’s deal was. It didn’t seem so dangerous to want to sit at a proper table to eat, especially as the place was practically empty, but he’d go along with her, as usual.

The girl begrudgingly agreed to bring the food and set off up the stairs. They followed her to the top floor, where she pushed open a creaky door and waved at the room. “Will ye need hot water as well?”

He wondered if that was extra, not even sure they could afford the food and lodging. He didn’t think Mel would take a bath with him in the room anyway, and shook his head.

She lit two candles from her lamp, and as soon as the door closed behind her, he grabbed Mellie in a hug. “We did it,” he said, pulling her off her feet in his relief. “She never even asked anything.”

It spoke to how tired she was, that instead of punching him she rested her head on his shoulder for a moment, and he felt her shiver.

The fire was completely dead, not even an ember, and by the time he managed to get a smolder going in the peat brick, the food arrived. He stripped off his wet shirt and soggy kilt and draped them near the fire, hurriedly throwing a blanket from the bed around his shoulders before Mel could squawk. Lately, he’d tried not to be too outrageous around her, but she hadn’t always been so serious minded, worrying over everything. He wished just once he could see her completely relaxed, like when they were younger.

He could close his eyes and see her running to greet him, a huge smile on her face, then they’d get up to mischief for hours, making up elaborate games and annoying the shopkeepers with their nonsense. Sometimes they just sat by the river, companiably quiet and chucking rocks into the water. It didn’t matter to him, so long as they were together. But that had been a long time ago.

He huddled with his soup bowl and shook his head at her, still shivering as she held out her hands to the weak fire.

“Ye’re making me cold.” He chucked the remaining blanket at her and made a show of turning around. “Get the wet stuff off and hang it up so it’ll be dry in the morning.”

She breathed out so long he thought she might float off into space. He was glad she’d come with him on this mad adventure, and he knew she would eventually remember that they’d been friends once. He’d seen glimpses of it over the last few days. At least he hoped so, because he was getting mighty sick of her acting like he was constantly doing something wrong.

He turned around to see her wrapped in the blanket, her clothes strewn over the footboard. She wavered on her feet and he felt a rush of shame for being irritated with her. She’d said she didn’t feel right after their first try. Maybe the spell made her sick, or maybe the long walk in the rain had given her a fever.

They sat on the floor in front of the fire and he reached over to feel her forehead. “Are ye all right?” he asked. “I thought ye might have a fever, but ye’re still cold as a popsicle.” He took her spoon and scooped up some soup, holding it out for her.

She narrowed her eyes at him, but couldn’t hold back her smile, and she let him feed her one bite before taking her spoon back. “I’m fine,” she said. “Has this not shaken you at all?”

“Quite a bit, aye, but I’m trying to be manly.”

He looked down to hide his pleasure at making her smile. He couldn’t remember the last time they’d hung out together, just them. Maybe he was fourteen or so? She used to be taller than him back then and walked slightly slouched over.

“I do appreciate it,” she said, and to his great shock, sounded like she meant it.

Just when he felt so proud, a cockroach the size of his hand came scuttling out from under the bed, making a beeline for him. He jumped up, shouting in alarm at its speed and size, and before he could recover enough to step on it, Mellie calmly reached over and smashed it under a peat brick. He marveled at the vicious way she ground the thing into the crooked slats and sat back down, feeling a mix of embarrassment and awe.

“Go ahead,” he said, trying to keep his face from flaming.

She burst out laughing, and the pure joyful sound made him not care so much that it was at his expense. “I’m sorry,” she said, but he merely waved his hand for her to continue her merriment. “It’s just there’s so many nasty critters at the castle, I’m immune to them by now.”

“My mum would set off a nuclear bomb if something like that ever showed its tentacles at the inn,” he said, rubbing his arms to get rid of the crawling feeling.

“It doesn’t have tentacles.” She wheezed from laughing so hard. She started to lift the brick and he slapped his hand over hers.

“All right, antennae, then. I’ll take your word for it either way.”

She took another brick and swept it together with the first one, making a disgusting peat and roach sandwich, and tossed it in the fire.

“Aye, burn the wee devil,” he said, smiling at her.

Her cheeks were rosy after her murderous act and her long brown hair had gone curly from the rain and hung in loose, damp ringlets around her shoulders. Up until the moment they arrived in a different time, he hadn’t truly believed her, he’d just been happy to spend time with her again. Now they were in this crazy place together, it was like they were the only two people in the world who were real.

“Ye’re so pretty, Mel,” he said, then felt a horrified stab at voicing his thoughts. And right when she’d been acting normal, now she’d think he was taking the piss. He rushed to fix it before she hit him. “And so capable. Oliver would be stupid to pass ye up.”

He hated that it took her a second to process that he’d been sincere, and the way she clearly didn’t believe him anyway.

“I hope you’re right,” she said, getting into the bed.

He wrapped the blanket tighter around him and lay down on the floor, imagining the other bugs that lived under the bed dancing all over him the second the candle was blown out.

“Don’t be foolish,” she said, thumping the straw mattress. “Come on up.”

“Oh, thank God,” he said, scurrying to get on the bed. He leaned against the plank headboard and wrested around his brain for something else to say so things wouldn’t get awkward when she realized they were in bed together. “Tell me about that lovely lad, Oliver, so I know what I’m up against. What’s so special about him?”

He frowned as she closed her eyes, a dreamy smile taking over her face. Surely Oliver wasn’t that spectacular? He wished he could have got a glimpse of him before he’d stolen Catie back to her own time, or had a chance to fight for her back when she was in his. He knew he and Catie had made a connection, even in the short time he’d known her. He got so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t realize Mellie hadn’t said anything, and was now looking at him with a frown that must have rivaled his own.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she huffed. “I was only around him for a few hours.” Keeping her blanket cocooned around her, she wriggled to lay down, turning her back to him.

“Did ye come all this way for someone ye canna even describe?” he asked incredulously.

Perhaps her quarter-life crisis was more serious than he’d given credit for. Had she only pretended to like Oliver and risked her life solely to help him? He reached out to touch her, pausing with his hand raised above her shoulder.

“Shut up and go to sleep,” she groused.

He almost laughed aloud at how brainless he was. Of course that wasn’t the reason she’d come. She was just being grouchy as usual. He made a face at her back and rolled over, staring at the door until he fell asleep.

Mellie woke up, so tangled in her blanket she thought she might suffocate. It only took about three seconds of being awake to realize her entire body was aflame with itchy bug bites. Flinging the filthy blanket off her, she saw Shane sitting by the fire in his shirt and socks, leaning over and inspecting the small red welts that covered his legs.

Keeping his face resolutely turned away, he tossed her long underwear at her. “I think the bed gave me scabies,” he said sadly. “I should have taken my chances with the roaches on the floor.”

“Oh, this is horrible,” she said, unable to dig her fingernails into all the places that needed scratching at once. “And I didn’t even think to bring any hydrocortisone cream. Have you tried the lotion?”

He motioned to the little glass bottle next to him. “It didna do anything for me.” He handed it to her and she began dabbing all the bites she could see. He stood up and yanked on the rest of his clothes. “I’m going to settle up and see if there’s any breakfast, then we should get going again.”

She nodded miserably at his angry tone, but once he was gone she relaxed. As awful as being treated like an all-you-can-eat buffet by the inn’s microscopic residents was, it had at least distracted them from any awkwardness over sleeping together. Of course, it had meant nothing, and they’d both been wrapped in their own blankets, but he’d been so sweet to her the night before, it had thrown her.

He’d even called her pretty, and the look on his face when he said it … she didn’t understand it. When he asked her about Oliver, his voice sounded almost lost, and then she got irritated with herself because try as she might, she couldn’t think of anything concrete to say about him. She could barely conjure a memory of his smile or eyes. Every time she tried, idiot Shane jostled into her thoughts. He’d been flat out adorable, jumping at the sight of the cockroach. She’d been mean to him, laughing her fool head off, then later snapping at him. As usual, he’d taken it. All her life she’d watch him shrug off unkindness, wheedling people into good moods with his damn sweet nature.

Taking deep breaths to try to distract herself from the burning bites, and the creepy feeling that she was still covered in miniscule bugs, she hastily got dressed. A milky, cracked mirror on the wall showed her she had the raised red marks on her face and neck as well, and tears burned her eyes. No one could convincingly lie and call her pretty in this state.