Love Across Time (10 page)

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Authors: B. J. McMinn

Tags: #Fantasy

BOOK: Love Across Time
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“I do not understand why I am not allowed to help. I could sit with her tonight.”

“Shh,” Ursula cautioned.

“Do not tell me to be silent.” The words held the bite of anger and censure. “The girl is unconscious and cannot hear anything.”

Yes, the girl could, and the loud strident voice caused jagged edges of pain to rip through her skull. She longed to tell the woman to be quite and go away, but her dry throat refused to cooperate.

“You and Liam have shouldered the burden of her care for weeks, and I am sure you could use a rest.”

“The lass nae be a burden to me, or to Liam.” Back stiff, Ursula held her position blocking the woman’s entrance into the room.

“This is the thanks I receive after I have offered to lower myself to play nursemaid to that chit of a girl. Well, do not expect me to rescue you when you fall asleep in that chair and fail to rise.” The ill-humored woman warned.

After an undecipherable grunt
,
which could have meant anything
,
Ursula closed the door. Pinched-face had to step back before the heavy plank smacked her in her interfering nose.

Ursula came toward the bed, her candle flickered, and the smell of burnt tallow permeated the air. Maggie blinked several times until her eyes adjusted to the light. She ran her tongue over her chapped lips.

Water splashed. An arm slid under her shoulders and lifted her. A cup of cool liquid touched her lips. The soothing mixture of honey and mead trickled down her throat. Ursula laid her gently back against the pillows.

“Me special recipe will soothe yer dry throat?”

She managed a small smile. Water splashed again. The cool compress Ursula laid on her forehead relieved the throbbing headache the woman’s screeching had caused.

“Thank you. That feels good.”

“Ye did too much today.”

“All I have done is sleep.” Her fingers lifted the edge of the compress, and she peeked from under the damp cloth. “Who was that woman?”

“She be Liam’s uncle’s wife.”

Maggie grinned at the way Ursula phrased the relationship.

“So, she’s Liam’s aunt?”

Ursula’s expression turned into an unpleasant frown. “Aye. Dugan went to visit relatives in the lowlands and came back with a Sassenach wife.”

“Is that bad?” Mrs. Bixby had used the Scottish term Sassenach to refer to the English.

“Aye. Eleanor thought Dugan be next in line to be laird. Liam’s parents were joined fer years with nary a sign of a bairn. Her hopes set high when Conner be born. Then two years later, Liam arrived, heir to all she hoped to possess for her son.”

“She must have been very disappointed?”

Ursula’s eyes narrowed. “Dinnae waste yer pity on that one. Dugan’s life be miserable with her. She be a bitter woman. Now, enough of her. How be yer head?”

“Much better.” And amazingly, it was. Modern doctors could benefit from Ursula’s special recipe. “Why didn’t you tell Eleanor that I woke this morning?”

“The less that woman kens aboot castle business the better I like it. Can ye sit up lass, I brought ye yer evening meal.”

Sitting up, she scooted back against the pillows. Ursula set a tray on her lap laden with a bowl of thick soup, bread, and a sliver of cheese. A glass of wine sat beside the bouquet of flowers Liam had given her.

“This smells delicious.”

“Ye need more nourishment than broth. If ye be strong enough Liam wants to move ye into the Lady’s Chambers.”

“This is not Margaret’s room?” Maggie gazed at the stone fireplace, the gaps in the rock that were more slits than windows, and the wooden pegs driven into the wall: the room of her nightmares.

A puzzled frown deepened the creases in Ursula’s brow. “Nae. When
ye
fell, ’twas the nearest room for the laird to bring ye. This be the old part of the castle. The Lady’s Chamber be in the new tower. Ne’er did ken why ye were in this part of the castle. There be so many twists and turns it be as if someone led ye here.” She shrugged and shook her head. “Nae familiar with the castle, ye must have gotten turned around in the dark. Och, makes nae difference now.”

Ursula sniffed the flowers Liam had placed in a blue and white porcelain vase. “The lad brought ye flowers? Ye have yer ring back on yer finger, so I guess the Laird has made up his mind to woo ye like he should have afore ye married.”

She frowned at the old woman.

“Nae look at me like that. I ken the lad ne’er took the time to woo ye. Love came too swift and strong atwixt the two of ye. The lad will appreciate yer love more if he has to work for it. Now finish yer meal, the laird himself will be in to carry ye to the Lady’s Chamber’s in a bit.”

“I can walk.”

“Nae, save yer strength.” She winked. “’Sides, it willnae hurt for a wife to do a little snuggling when she be in her husband’s arms.”

“But, I am not....” She clamped her mouth shut before she admitted to the old woman that she wasn’t Liam’s wife. He’d warned her not to mention her experience as a time traveler, even to Ursula.

Liam burst through the door, saving her from further explanations.

“Be ye ready lass,” he asked as he strode across the room in long purposeful strides.

Ursula snatched the tray from her lap. “Aye, she be ready.” Arthritic fingers whipped back the covers before she had time to grab the soft wool blanket.

The diaphanous gown left nothing to the imagination. Liam’s eyes darkened as his gaze traveled the length of her body then up to stare intently into her eyes. Her breasts responded to the desire lurking behind his bold inspection by puckering into tight peaks. She snatched the bed robe from the end of the bed where Ursula had laid it, slipped her arms in, and wrapped it tightly over her bosom.

Liam scooped her into his arms. “I’ll carry ye to yer new chambers.”

The strength in his arms amazed her as he nestled her against his muscular chest. She could feel his heart thud in unison with hers. He held her where she saw the side of his face without the scar, she wondered if he’d purposely positioned her that way. The man was too self-conscious about the mark. She longed to touch the clean smooth-shaven lines of his stubborn jaw, to kiss away the insecurities she knew he harbored over the blemish. Startled by the revelation her next breath caught in her throat. What made her so certain he’d suffered scorn and humiliation over his disfigurement?

“Did I hurt ye?”

“Nae.”

She lowered her gaze and doused the temptation to offer comfort to this odd man full of contradictions; strong in body with an indomitable spirit, yet with a touch of vulnerability, fearless in demonstrating his love to Margaret, yet too bashful to present her with flowers in front of his most trusted servant.

He hefted her into a more intimate embrace. She placed her arms around his neck. His fingers gripping her ribcage caressed the side of her breast. The familiar tingle hardened her nipples. Her gaze flew to his to see if he noticed her reaction to his touch.

The crooked smile she loved lifted the corner of his mouth. “Nae worry lass. I’ll nae drop ye.”

Liam started toward the door.

“Wait!”

“What be the matter?” With his head bent close, his lips nearly grazed hers as he gazed down at her.

“I....” She swallowed. “I want my flowers.”

“Aye.”

He whirled and marched back to the bedside table. Ursula held the bouquet out, and she plucked the vase from her hands.

“Now ye be ready?” A smile tugged the corner of his lip upward.

“Yes, thank you.”

He dropped a quick kiss on her mouth and strode out the door, down a long hallway, turned several corners, and climbed a flight of stairs.

A door stood open at the end of the hall. He entered an elaborate decorated room. A large four-poster canopy bed, its curtains tied back, dominated the room. A cherry two-paneled coffer sat at the foot. The fireplace at the far end covered the entire wall. Tatted doilies added a feminine touch to the dark furniture preventing it from appearing too austere.

Conscious of Liam’s virile appeal, she nearly groaned aloud at his body’s absence when he laid her on soft sheets and moved away.

“Ye rest, and I’ll be back later to play a game of chess.” His gaze, as soft as a caress, stayed fixed on her.

“But I do not know if I possess the strategy required for chess.” A spark of excitement rippled through her at the thought of spending time alone with him.

“Aye, ye do.”

The grin that spread across his mouth was pure devilry. Liam was up to something. He had probably devised another attempt to prove to her she was, Margaret, his wife, not Maggie, time traveler.

When the door closed behind him, she flipped back the covers, stood, and tested her legs strength. She used the wall for support until she reached the armoire and pulled the doors open to gaze at an array of clothing. Careful not to disturb anything she searched each garment for the brooch. Nothing.

Shoes lined the bottom. Inserting her fingers into each one, she hoped to discover the piece of jewelry. Nothing.

Feeling stronger, she inched her way toward a chest of drawers across the room. The first drawer held camisoles and an assortment of undergarments, but no brooch. She rummaged through each drawer from top to bottom. Nothing.

Now what? Her gaze drifted toward the bed. The place had held her prisoner since she’d awakened. No more. Her strength would never return if she continued to lie abed. Snuggled into a chair before the fireplace, legs tucked under her, she gazed at the firelight’s graceful dance of yellow, red, and blue flames while she mentally listed her options.

She had scoured the room where she’d first awakened and this one. Tomorrow, she’d expand her search to other parts of the castle.

CHAPTER 7

Over the hustle and bustle of servants preparing the evening meal, Liam heard the clatter of the returning search party. Conner and Dugan entered the hall. Both men wore the same grim expression.

“Did ye nae find anything?” Liam asked, as he strolled to where Conner stood brushing dirt from his clothing.

Conner and Dugan’s heads whipped toward him and each man started to speak at the same time. Conner nodded granting his father permission to speak.

“Aye, we found something alright.” Dugan’s eyes blazed with anger. “We rode out with six men and when we reached the place where ye were shot at, we split up to pick up that coward’s trail. Conner found a cold campfire and it looked as if someone had camped there for several days. From that point, we had begun our search again when we heard Luag cry out. We found him, near passed out, with an arrow stuck in his thigh. Conner and me brought the lad home for Ursula to tend to. She be with him now.”

Now danger not only stalked him but his men, also. And possibly Margaret.

“I want more men on watch until we find whoever be responsible for this.”

“Aye. Rory had us send more men out to help him roust the bloody bugger from his hiding place,” Conner said.

“Good. It’s near time for the evening meal. I’ll be watching o’er Margaret this evening. If Rory finds anything have him report to me in the morning unless ’tis important.”

Men filtered into the room and gathered around the table. Conner and Dugan followed him to the table and conversation ceased as servants placed large platters of food on the table.

Liam hurried through his meal. When the maid he’d sent to the cellar for a bottle of wine returned, he grabbed a couple of glasses, and raced for the stairs. He intended to spend the evening seducing Margaret into falling in love with him again.

While waiting for her father to gather the ransom for her brother, they had spent several leisurely evenings playing chess. If he could recreate the days preceding their marriage she might remember and stop this nonsense of being a time traveler.

Anticipation was a heady thing as he climbed the stairs. Wine and glasses in one hand, he pushed the door opened. Margaret, her dressing gown wrapped tightly around her, sat in a chair in front of the fireplace combing her hair. The soft strands glistened in the firelight like shards of glass. The various shades of red, gold, and blonde created a breathtaking sight.

He stood transfixed as her fingers separated the thick mass into three sections and prepared to braid it.

“Leave yer hair loose.” Something primitive and intense flared to life in him.

She dropped the tawny locks to clutch her fists to her breast and stared at him with large freighted eyes. “Oh, Liam, you startled me.”

“Sorry, me
goal
.” He slid inside and nudged the door closed with the heel of his boot. “Och, lass ye look so beautiful with your hair down, shimmering around yer fair shoulders, ye take me breath away. I wanted to enjoy the sight a mite longer.”

Her cheeks turned a delightful shade of pink.

The glasses clinked together when he set them and the wine on the small table between the chairs.

“Why do you call me your love?”

“Because no matter who ye think ye be, ye ’ere me love.” His gaze riveted on her face as he lifted her hand and placed a kiss in her palm.

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