The Inscription (31 page)

A shiver tickled the back of Amber’s neck. There was a knock on the door. Amber set aside her cup and hurried to answer it.

A stone-faced deliveryman waited. He held a long flower box tied with a thick gold ribbon. “Delivery for Amber MacPhee.”

“I’m Amber. Who could be sending… ?”

He shoved a clipboard at her, pointed at the line where he wanted her to sign and then handed her the box.

“Who’s out there, dear?”

Amber turned toward the kitchen. “Someone sent me flowers.”

“How lovely. Shut the door and let’s have a look.”

The large thick ribbon slipped off easily. Amber tossed it on the chair as she lifted the lid and folded back the green florist tissue. She heard Aunt Dora’s sharp intake of breath. Inside were at least two dozen long-stemmed red roses, their perfume soft and fragrant.

“Your parents did not mention they would be sending you flowers and your brother would never think of it.” Her aunt stood beside her. “Do you have any idea who sent them?”

Amber shook her head. “I haven’t a clue.” She set the flowers on the table and reached for an envelope tucked under a rose. Inside was a ticket to a lecture by the physicist Steven Hawking. “The Nature of Space and Time” was the title of the talk. There was also a white card. Written in a bold script across it were the same words inscribed in
Canterbury Tales
. It was signed Lachlan MacAlpin.

Lachlan was alive. A mixture of joy and shock ran through her. She felt overwhelmed. Too much to absorb, too much to take in. It was true, all true. Her hand trembled. The card and ticket fluttered, turning round and round on their journey to the floor. Somewhere in the distance she heard her aunt’s voice.

“Child, what’s come over you? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.” Aunt Dora reached down and picked up the slips of paper. She read them, then put them back on top of the roses. “Odd, that it is the same phrase written in
Canterbury Tales
. And the address… is he a professor? The address is on the University of Edinburgh campus.”

She sighed and put her arm around Amber. “Are you feeling poorly? Come sit down, dear. The soup is almost ready.”

Aunt Dora guided Amber to the chair. “Your parents speak highly of Hawking. You should attend his lecture.”

The images in the room blurred and began to spin. Amber reached over to hold onto the top of the winged back chair; she pressed her fingers against the cool upholstery. Everything he’d said was true. Over and over he had told her that time held no meaning for him. Even when she’d seen him survive wounds that would have killed a normal man, the concept of his immortality had never fully sunk in. It was as improbable as palm trees in the Highlands, polar bears in Africa and… and time travel. She looked at her aunt, noting the lines of concern creasing the old woman’s face.

Aunt Dora squeezed her hand. “Are you all right?”

Her vision blurred and she welcomed the darkness.

It wrapped warm arms around her and pulled her into its comforting embrace.

A spotlight focused on the empty stage in the auditorium at the University of Edinburgh as Amber looked at a program. The words printed on the front cover in bold black letters read, “Dr. Stephen Hawking, British physicist, will speak on the Nature of Space and lime.” She was surrounded by the soft sounds of conversations, hushed laughter and the rustling of pages as she waited for the scientist’s entrance.

In the second row near the stage she saw a couple who were wearing replicas of
Star Trek, The Next Generation
uniforms. Dr. Hawking had appeared in one of the show’s episodes, playing himself. She figured he wouldn’t be offended. After all, the mere mention of time travel seemed to bring out the science fiction fans.

Behind her someone kicked her seat. She heard the laughter of kids. This was reality. Hopefully, his lecture might make sense of what she’d experienced. She turned the palm of her right hand toward her. The crescent-shaped scar that Angus had given her at the base of her thumb was still visible. Amber felt a tightness in her throat and swallowed. Marcail had done a good job stitching the cut. She willed the memories from her mind. They paid no attention to her wishes. In other relationships it had been easy to say goodbye, easy to walk away. This time was different.

She heard someone clear his throat. A man stood in . the aisle and motioned toward the empty seat beside her. His features reminded her of the color beige; his eyes, hair and complexion were all the same shade.

The man climbed over her and sat down. “Hawking

is a genius, you know. Crippled body, but a mind that would give Einstein pause.“

Amber wondered if she had a sign, printed across her forehead, that read, “talk to me, I enjoy idle conversation.” She ignored his comment, looking at the empty stage and then at her watch. There were still ten minutes left before the program began.

“This business about time travel. Can’t be done, you know. Dr. Hawking will set it right.”

Amber rolled her program into a cylinder and rapped it softly on the palm of her hand. “The fact he’s devoted a lecture, no, actually an entire tour, on that possibility means, at the very least, it can’t be discounted.”

The beige man sat taller in his seat and pushed out his bottom lip. “A person would have to travel faster than the speed of light, 186,000 miles per second to be exact. Impossible.”

She leaned back and folded her arms across her chest. “In water, light travels seventy-five percent as fast as in the air. If I was to travel back in time, I think my best shot would be in water.”

“Never thought of that.”

Out of the corner of her eye she saw him take his pen and small notebook out of his shirt pocket. She could almost hear the man’s brain cells doing the mental calculation before he began to write.

She knew why she was here. The realization hit her as Hawking came on stage to a standing ovation. She wanted reassurance that it was scientifically possible to travel back in time. Her parents held the belief that many things on this earth could be manipulated, that only the laws of science were pure. If that extraordinary concept was within the realm of reality, so, too, would be her loving an immortal.

A car screeched to a stop on wet pavement. Lachlan nodded at the driver and crossed the street to the University of Edinburgh. He looked at his watch. His next class wouldn’t start for another hour.

“Hello, Professor MacAlpin.”

He turned to greet the group of students who hurried down the walkway. They were headed toward the ivy covered brick building that housed the science department. A crisp breeze rustled through the trees. He had grown attached to this campus and those who attended his classes. His goal had been to breathe life into the subject of Anthropology just as Amber had into his life. He had succeeded. There was always a waiting list for his classes.

He pushed open the oak doors and walked down the narrow hallway toward his office. He calculated he had only another ten or fifteen years left, before the faculty began to wonder why he never aged. If Amber decided against him, he might see if he could secure a teaching position on one of the islands in the Caribbean. It would be a tranquil spot to end his days. He smiled. It was unfortunate that, these days, society frowned on a man kidnapping the person he desired for an extended time, until she’d had a chance to fall in love with him. The Vikings had believed it a sound plan. Amber would not.

“Hola, big brother.” Gavin sat back in his chair behind a desk cluttered with a mountain of papers and folded his hands behind his head. Morning sunlight streamed through a window.

Lachlan grinned. It was good to have his brother in the area again, even if Gavin was in the habit of turning up unexpectedly. He had grown to be a fine man. Amber would be proud of him. Lachlan put his briefcase on the desk. “I am pleased to see you, but how is it that you come to be in my office? The windows and doors are on a sensor system.”

Gavin shrugged. “Do you really want to know?”

“No. Now, get out of my chair. I have work to do.”

“You haven’t asked me why I’m here.” He pushed away from the desk, crossed tike room and sank into a brown leather chair.

“I knew you would get to it.” Lachlan opened his briefcase and put a pile of essays on the desk.

“It’s been a week since we fished Amber from the water. The lass, however, doesn’t seem to be in a hurry to rush into your arms. How much longer are you prepared to wait?”

Lachlan sat down at his desk and added the essays to a stack by the phone. “As long as it takes.” The chair creaked as he leaned back. “I appreciated your help in the dive at Loch Ness. The area where she was to come through was uncertain until the Guardian showed us the location. However, I do not interfere in your life; do not tell me how to run mine.”

Gavin leaned forward. “Ha, and what do you call the time you flew your plane behind the German lines in World War H?“

“You were in need of rescue.”

“I was doing fine on my own.”

Lachlan took out a pen from the desk drawer. “You had taken up residence at a prisoner of war camp.”

Gavin rubbed the back of his neck. “I had a plan.”

“Did it involve that blonde singer in town?”

Gavin smiled but refrained from answering.

“Your trust in women, little brother, is admirable, but it may be your ruin one day. The woman you speak of turned you into the Germans as a spy. Her only interest was the reward.”

“She was right. I was spying for the British, but I knew the risks.” He shrugged. “It was war. People do what they can to survive. But you’re a fine one to lecture me. You sit here waiting for Amber to come to you, instead of going after what you want.”

“It is not that simple.”

“It’s exactly that simple.”

The silence was so complete that Lachlan could hear the hum of the digital clock on his desk. “Amber must give her love freely if the curse is to be lifted.”

Gavin stood and shoved his hands in his pockets. “It’s. that blasted legend again. You’ve only had a few lapses in four hundred years. What makes you think she is the only one who can fulfill the legend? You’re doing pretty well on your own.”

Lachlan stared at the silver pen in his hand and clenched his fingers around the cold metal. “You call the murderous acts that I engaged in ‘lapses’?” He looked over at Gavin and opened his palm. “If I hold a blade in my hand, someone will die. I tried to kill you during one of those ‘lapses.’ Or have you forgotten?”

Gavin turned to look out the window. His voice was low. “No, I haven’t. But you didn’t answer my question. What makes you so sure Amber is the one?”

“When I recall to memory her smile, the touch of her skin, or the way she laughed me out of my dark moods, the shadows that hold my soul prisoner disappear for a time. I wait for her to come to me, not only to fulfill the legend, but for myself. I must know if her love is as strong as mine. There is a lot for her to accept. Perhaps too much.”

“No shit.” Gavin rubbed the back of his neck. “I think you’re asking more than she can give. There was a reason the ancients forbade us to join with mortals. How’s she going to handle the age difference, when she’s eighty and you still look thirty-five?”

Lachlan stared at the pen in his hand and twisted it back and forth. The gray metal shimmered like the blade on his sword. He threw it on his desk. “I have taken the Elixir of Life.”

“You what?” Gavin stood so quickly the chair overturned. He paced back and forth in front of the desk. “You’re crazy. What happens if she rejects you? Then what? You’ll spend the rest of your life… alone.”

“Don’t you think you are being just a little melodramatic? You missed your calling. You should have pursued an acting career, instead of the cloak-and-dagger business.”

Gavin put his hands on the desk and leaned forward. “I may still. That’s the point. Who knows, I may even teach at a university. Don’t look at me like that. Amber said I was a good student.”

Lachlan smiled. “And what was she going to say? You were eight years old.”

Gavin shook his head, went over to the chair, righted it and sat down. “We’re off the subject.”

“That is my intent.”

Gavin looked at him in exasperation. “Your taking the damn elixir doesn’t solve anything. Mother lived another one hundred and fifty years after she drank the stuff. You’ll grow old, but it will be so slowly that Amber may not see a difference in you.” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “Okay, so it’s done. Can’t be reversed. So, to hell with the legend. You have to go after what you want, and our task is to convince Amber that you’re her one and only. I suppose I could kidnap her and abandon the two of you to a deserted island paradise until she agrees? It’s worked before.”

“No.”

“Does she like to ski? How about a cabin in the mountains?”

“Gavin.”

“You made your point. The subject is closed.” He leaned back in the chair. “Angus told me you’ve kept watch on the MacPhee family over the centuries.”

“Aye. Amber said she was born in June of 1970 and I knew during the fall of 1997 she was on her way to a reenactment when she was pulled back in time. It was a matter of waiting until she returned.”

“Why didn’t you just introduce yourself before she took a swim in Loch Ness? It would have saved you a lot of trouble.”

Lachlan smiled. “You know our laws do not permit us to interfere with the events of time.”

“I thought we were in the process of changing those outdated commandments?” Gavin sighed. “I almost envy you, big brother. You’ve found your true love.”

The sun felt warm on Lachlan’s face. He turned toward the window and looked out. Buildings that mirrored the grayness of those in the Science Department blocked the view of the park. It made no difference to him; there was a quiet beauty in the people and the surroundings that held him to this city. He need not view a tree or flower to feel it. Ever since the plague that ran unchecked through the streets of . Edinburgh in the seventeenth century, his brother had sought only those cities where there were bright lights, exciting people and adventure. Over time Lachlan had hoped his brother would settle in one place, and to one goal, but Gavin showed no signs of slowing down.

The door burst open, its hinges protesting as it slammed against the wall. Angus stood in the entrance, his legs spread apart and his hands on his hips. His head was shaved and he wore a patch over one eye.

Lachlan coughed to hide a smile. “Good to see you, old friend.” Gavin, he noticed, was laughing so hard he almost fell out of the chair.

Angus scowled in Gavin’s direction. “Can’t you teach your brother manners?”

“I have tried.”

Angus rubbed his hand over the top of his head. “The young pup doesn’t understand the need for disguises, especially if one is to remain in Scotland for a time.”

Lachlan clenched his jaw to keep from smiling. “It is a great disguise.”

Angus’ eyebrows drew together. “Knew you’d understand. Any word from Amber?”

Lachlan shook his head.

“Thought as much. That’s why I bugged her phone and had her house watched.”

“You what?”

Angus raised his eyebrows. “I thought you’d like to know what she was up to.”

Lachlan placed his palms on the desk. “I alone will determine how to handle the situation.”

Angus shoved his hands into his pockets. “Somehow, I seem to remember you saying the same thing to me, when I suggested she was immortal. It worked out well. She still bears the scar. It was die first thing I checked, when we pulled her from the water. It was the mark that proved her identity.”

“You did not mark her so that we could find her. You injured her, against my will, to see if she would heal without a scar. If she had died from infection, I would have cut out your heart.”

Angus turned to Gavin. “I thought you told me he had mellowed with age, like a good Scotch whisky.”

Gavin shook his head. “I thought so too, but his sense of humor is as lacking as ever.”

“Pity.”

“If the two of you have finished?” Lachlan walked around the desk. “When I need your help, I will ask. Until that time, do not interfere.”

Angus looked over at Gavin and then back to Lachlan. “It’s only that we want to help.” They exchanged glances again. “We didn’t want to tell you, what with Amber’s arrival and all…”

He stopped within an arm’s length of Angus. ‘Tell me what?“

“Bartholomew has been seen in Inverness. There’s little doubt that he’s come to avenge his brother’s death.”

Lachlan did not fear Bartholomew. He was ready. He felt four hundred years slip away, until he was again on the bloodstained battlefield. He remembered Amber’s expression of horror after she witnessed him thrust his sword into O’Donnell, and heard her screams when she fell into the loch. Bartholomew had disappeared that same night. It had been assumed the schoolmaster had either died or fled when Subedei’s armies were defeated. It was curious that Bartholomew decided to make an appearance at the same time as Amber’s return. Lachlan did not believe in coincidences.

Electronic bells announced that class was about to start. It jarred him back to the present.

Angus motioned to Gavin. “Come lad, I’ll buy you a pint at the Rose and Thistle.”

Gavin paused and put his hand on Lachlan’s shoulder. “Remember, you don’t have to do this alone.”

Lachlan watched them leave. His brother meant well, but he was wrong. He gathered up his notes and stuffed them into his briefcase. It would feel good to talk about the ancient digs in Egypt, instead of dwelling on his current problems.

The corn-line on his phone buzzed. “Yes, Fiona?”

A singsongy sweet voice came over the wire. “There is a woman here to see you. Her name is Amber MacPhee.”

He cleared his throat and tightened his grip on the receiver. He hadn’t expected Amber. Sending her flowers was his way of breaking the reality to her gently that what he had told her in 1566 was true. He was immortal. Next week he had planned to telephone her and set up a meeting. He smiled. It was just like Amber to do it her way. “Show her into my office.”

“But, Professor MacAlpin, your class is about to begin.”

He recognized the tone. Fiona was jealous. Lachlan had spent more times than he wished to recount explaining to her that he was not interested. She did not choose to listen.

“Have someone cover for me.” He clicked the receiver down and turned to the window. Lachlan had thought that waiting over four hundred years had prepared him. Apparently it had not.

Amber followed the long-legged receptionist down the hall toward Lachlan’s office. Fiona kept looking back at her, as if sizing up the competition. Amber gripped the book closer. Stop being paranoid, she lectured herself. She should be trying to figure out what to say to the man. It had been four centuries. He could not possibly feel the same. Her married friends said that after a few years passion cooled. Maybe she’d just engage in small talk.

Fiona opened the door and let Amber go in first. The large picture window behind a mahogany desk bathed the room in light. There were green leather chairs, bookshelves framed the window, and an Oriental rug carpeted the wood floor. Somewhere on the lawn of the university, students practiced the bagpipes. The sound mixed with the shrill noise of honking horns.

Lachlan stood facing the window. His hands were clasped behind him. Although he had traded his kilt for corduroy pants and a tweed jacket, he was just as she remembered: shoulder-length hair, broad shoulders… she couldn’t speak.

He turned and she thought her heart would‘ stop. God help her, he was even better looking than before. She reached for the edge of the desk.

“Fiona, did you get someone to cover my class?”

The deep, familiar voice sent shivers up her spine as she stood between Fiona and Lachlan. She swallowed.

“Dan said he was free.” The woman glanced at Amber. “I’ve been meaning to ask if you like haggis, I’m preparing it tonight.”

The smile disappeared from his face as he shook his head.

Amber saw the obvious disappointment in Fiona’s expression. A pout formed on the woman’s face. Fiona must practice that expression in the mirror. She glanced over at Lachlan. Good; he was busy straightening papers on his desk. Either he hadn’t noticed the siren’s come-hither look or he was immune. She hoped it was the latter.