Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Fifteen
“You have questions, I presume?” Charlotte asked Niall. They were back in the study—she hadn’t needed a summons—but this time, they were seated in the armchairs near the hearth where a fire blazed cheerfully as if there were no concerns to be had.
He shook his head. “Just one. How?”
She didn’t bother asking him to clarify what he meant. “I don’t know how I got here.”
“Ye doona ken?”
Her turn to shake her head. “All I know is that one minute I was dancing in the Hogmanay circle at Inverness. You were there—”
“I ken that, lass.”
She paused, scrutinizing his face. He wasn’t going to like what she said next. “It wasn’t in this century.”
His eyes widened, then narrowed. “’Tis impossible.”
“It happened.” She hesitated again. “You asked me for a kiss after the dance—”
“Nae! That I would remember.” In spite of the direction of the conversation, he managed a quirky grin. “Believe me.”
She felt her face warm as memory flooded through her. Better move on for now, though. “The last thing I remember is that kiss. Then I woke up here at Castle Dounie.”
He stared at her for a long moment. “What I remember is dancing with ye and introducing ourselves afterward. Ye couldna find your friends and I think ye panicked, because ye swooned.” He took a deep breath. “There was nae a kiss.”
She pursed her lips. “In my century there was.”
He studied her again. “What century was that?”
Now it was her turn to take a deep breath. “The twenty-first.”
“The twenty-first.”
His voice was flat, his expression neutral. He sat perfectly still and Charlotte wondered if he even considered believing her. More likely, he thought her completely mad and that she might suddenly become violent if he moved. She forced herself to remain still as well.
Finally, he spoke. “’Twould be three hundred years from now.”
“Not quite.” She took another deep breath. “I know this makes no sense, but I swear it is what happened. The reason I knew the Jacobites would return to Inverness is because I read it in a history book.” She searched her memory for what the army was going to do next and, thankfully, remembered. “Their next goal will be to take Fort George.”
Niall frowned. “That would be logical since it is near here in Inverness. Ye wouldna need a history book to figure that out.”
“Perhaps not.” She thought harder. “I think I also read that General Hawley will be replaced by the Duke of Cumberland.”
He started. “Cumberland? He’s in London with his brother, the king.”
“He was.” She tried to make her voice sound confident. “He’s on his way to Edinburgh and should arrive by the end of the month.”
Niall sat quietly for so long after that statement that Charlotte wondered if she’d put him into a catatonic state on the brink of madness himself. Finally, he seemed to revive. “If what ye say comes to pass, ye either have direct contact with King George—”
“I do not. I will swear that by anything you want me to.”
“Or…” he hesitated once more. “I will have to believe ye.”
“Fair enough. I didn’t expect you to just accept something that seems impossible. It seems impossible to me too.” She rose. “May I leave now?”
“Aye. I’ve much to think over.”
She’d only gotten as far as the doorway when he called on her to wait. She turned. “Yes?”
“I have one question.”
“What is it?”
“Will the Scots win this war?”
She felt tears suddenly well up in her eyes. “No, you will not.”
And then she turned and ran.
****
Niall wanted to jump up and run after her, but her terse reply had left him nonplussed. What had possessed him to even ask that question? Did he really think she was from the future? His brain was befuddled. An explanation could wait until he had time to think over what they’d just discussed. But…could she actually be telling the truth?
Greer appeared in the doorway. “I just saw Charlotte running through the hall, crying. She didn’t stop when I called to her. What happened?”
Niall thought fast. If there were one person in his family that might not think him completely barmy if he told the truth, it would be Greer. But Charlotte and he had agreed to a different story and they needed to stick to it. For now, anyway.
“I upset her by asking too many questions about her past.” That was true, although it had nothing to do with being confined to an imaginary asylum somewhere.
Greer frowned at him. “Do ye think ’tis really our business?”
If Charlotte was from the future, yes…but… He shook his head. What was he thinking?
“I’m glad ye agree.”
Niall blinked. Evidently, his sister had taken his head shake as an answer to her question rather than as a means of his trying to clear his thinking.
“Ye need to apologize and assure her we willna be prying anymore.”
If it were only that simple. Niall sighed. “I will apologize, but ye ken Da and Simon willna be content to let the matter be.”
Greer shrugged. “With the army coming to Inverness, Simon will be distracted and Da will be more interested in what the next plans are.”
“That’s true.” According to Charlotte, that would be Fort George.
“Well, I’m going to go talk to Charlotte and tell her she doesna have to worry about us,” Greer said.
Niall raised an eyebrow. “Just be careful ye doona ask questions yourself, sister.”
She rolled her eyes at him.
After she left, Niall became thoughtful. While his father supported the Cause—or said he did—he had also said that the fighting would stay south. That victory would be had, once Stirling and Edinburgh were taken. Now that the army was coming north, Frasers would be involved in what came next. They had been training—nominally—but now it would be in earnest.
And, if what Charlotte said was true, it would be for naught.
Could she truly know the outcome? Fortune tellers at town faires might claim to know the future and some of the more wily even managed to gain a king’s ear, but Charlotte made no claim to do that. She said she was from the future. How could it be possible?
People simply did not travel through Time. He reviewed the way they’d met. There had been nothing out of the ordinary on that night as he could recall. They’d marched around the foot of the castle, torches held high, followed by the ceremonial dousing them in the river. There had been a moment when the air became hazy from the smoke and the images of people shimmered, but then the air cleared and they had begun to dance. He’d noticed Charlotte, of course, and he’d made sure he was next to her when the group broke into two circles, but that was a normal, male reaction to a beautiful woman. Nothing otherworldly about that.
There were so many pieces of the puzzle still missing. Charlotte had admitted to him that she’d lied about the betrothal. She’d agreed to the new twist of escaping from confinement, but he doubted that was even close to the truth, considering he’d been the one who brought it up. He was also convinced, even if Simon and his father weren’t, that she was not an English spy. From every account Keir had given him, Charlotte had not often left the office. When she did, Keir trailed at a safe distance and reported she’d simply taken care of whatever business was at hand and had not met anyone.
Having eliminated those three possibilities brought Niall back to the present one that—against all odds and human logic—Charlotte was who she said she was. A woman from nearly 300 years into the future.
Contrary to what Greer had said, there was a question he would have to ask.
What did Charlotte mean when she said the Scots would meet defeat? If he knew that, perhaps he could change the outcome.
History, after all, was written by the victors.
****
For the next two weeks, Charlotte was caught in a whirlwind of activity. News that Prince Charlie was accompanying the Jacobite army to Inverness had everyone in a frenzy. Niall, along with Simon, left early in the mornings to ride out and recruit troops, and they spent the afternoons training them and drilling the regulars. She rarely had a chance to speak more than a few words to Niall in the evenings because he was surrounded by soldiers in the Great Hall, all of them eager to discuss the upcoming arrival.
She had caught him sending glances her way on several of those evenings, though, and knew a confrontation regarding how she’d left the other conversation was inevitable.
It came a few days later. It was a Saturday, which meant she wouldn’t be going into Inverness to work, and she made her way to the Great Hall to break her fast in a more leisurely fashion than usual. She’d just finished eating when the door to the council room off the Great Hall opened and Niall emerged along with his father and brother and a couple of other men who had arrived yesterday ahead of the army.
Niall said something to Simon and then turned to approach her. “I’d like a word with ye.”
The porridge she’d just swallowed felt like a lump of lead in her stomach and she hoped she wouldn’t cast it up. She’d been dreading continuing the conversation because she was pretty sure he wouldn’t believe her, and she didn’t know how else to persuade him. Still, the conversation needed to be held.
“Of course.”
She followed him back into the council room, a place she’d not entered before. In contrast to the study with its leather chairs, bookcases, and warm hearth, this room was spartan and could have served as a monk’s cell, except for its size. A long rectangular table with a dozen straight-back wooden chairs were the only furniture aside from a smaller table in the corner, littered with maps.
Niall pulled out two chairs and turned them to face each other. He gestured to one. She sat, took a deep breath, and waited.
He studied her, took a deep breath himself, and came to the point. “Ye said in our last conversation that the Scots wouldna win this war. Why?”
The only way she could answer was bluntly. “From what I read, there was confusion among the leaders on how to proceed at Culloden.”
His eyebrows rose. “At Culloden? That makes nae sense, particularly since Lord Culloden has already ordered Colonel Campbell to move their troops into Sutherland ahead of Prince Charlie’s force of thousands arriving. The English are already gone.”
“So I heard.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she regretted them. There was still suspicion that she might be relaying information to the colonel since they shared the same name. She shrugged. “It was all anyone could talk about.”
Niall waved a hand dismissively. “Aye. It makes it easier for the prince’s troops to lay siege to the fort, too. I doubt it will stand for long.”
She nodded, grateful he didn’t press the subject. “The major will surrender.”
He knit his brows. “Did ye read that too?”
Was he being sarcastic? He didn’t sound like it, but in any case, she might as well tell him what she knew. Maybe it would convince him—if he didn’t think her some sort of witch—that she actually knew the future because she was from the future. She was going to have to risk it.
“What I read is that the Jacobite troops will burn Fort George. They’ll do the same with Fort Augustus. They won’t be as successful with Fort William, though. They’ll abandon that siege.”
He stared at her silently. She fought a moment of panic, wondering if she had gone too far with trying to convince him. Finally, he shook his head.
“Those mostly sound like victories to me, lass.”
“I suppose they are.”
“Then why would Prince Charlie’s men be going to a boggy moor at Culloden?”
She strove to remember. War strategy was not her strong suit. “I think the Duke of Cumberland will be advancing along that way from Aberdeen.”
Niall sat back and folded his arms. “He is in Edinburgh. Why go north?”
“I don’t know why.”
“It makes nae sense, lass. He’ll nae doubt winter in Edinburgh. If what ye said is true about the forts, we are growing stronger each day.”
“You may be, but history says the prince wanted to meet the Duke of Cumberland head-on even though his generals opposed the idea.” She hesitated, not wanting to sound like a traitor. “Prince Charlie wouldn’t listen.”
“Hmph. That does sound like something the prince would do.” He shook his head again. “’Tis a lot of information ye’ve given me, lass. I’ll have to think on it.”
“Will you believe me if what I’ve told you about the forts is true?”
He considered, then slowly inclined his head. “I doona think I will have any choice if things turn out as ye say.”
“Thank you! I hope…” She paused again. “I hope it’s possible to rewrite history and prevent the battle at Culloden from taking place.”
“And this battle is so important?”
“Yes. It will be Scotland’s final defeat.” She thought how to word the rest. “And it will be a massacre.”
He went quiet and she stayed silent too, giving him time to absorb the words. When he spoke, he was hardly audible.
“Do ye ken when this is supposed to happen?”
“Yes. April 16.”
Niall looked away, then up at the ceiling, then back to her. “Ye are sure?”
“That is the date in the history books.”
He turned contemplative, expressions flashing across his face until his features hardened like stone Finally, he nodded.
“Then we still have time.”