Chapter 4
CHAPTER 4
D anielle's boots echoed on the stone floor as she marched beside him. His hand on her elbow was strong but not tight. It almost felt nice, but she squashed that feeling. Now was not the time to be thinking about his delicious manly scent, how his muscles bulged when he'd caught her, or how mesmerizing his vivid green eyes were. She had a tour group to get back to so they could help her find her phone before they headed back to the bus that would return them to the ferry.
Not that she was anxious to leave this handsome man's company. Thoughts of having a fling with him flew through her mind. She was attracted to him, but it wasn't likely to happen. She would have to stay here on the Isle of Skye, and that wasn't on her agenda. She hadn't prepared for that; she'd left her things back at her hotel on the mainland. She was also very concerned that she'd been away from the group for too long and worried they'd left without her.
"What time is it?" she asked, looking at him.
"Heading on dinnertime, I'd imagine, lass," he answered.
Dinnertime? She was running late. As she hurried down the hallway as quickly as possible, she allowed her eyes to take in everything. She recognized the hallway as the same one she'd been in, except now, torches were mounted in iron holders and tapestries hung on the stone walls. It didn't make sense. Her gaze slid back to the man beside her. "So, what's your name?" she asked, not liking the quiet.
"Graeme MacMillan," he answered, slowing his steps and hers. "And you, lass?"
"Danielle Longchamp," she answered, feeling her anxiety build that the tour group had left without her.
"Where are you from, lass? You don't sound the same as some of the other women who've come through Scáthach's door."
Danielle frowned. "San Francisco."
"Is that in…" Graeme paused for half a second and then stopped walking, "America?"
Danielle nodded stopping next to him. "California. Have you ever been?"
Graeme chuckled. "No, that would be impossible."
Danielle stopped and frowned. "Why would it be impossible?" she asked. It dawned on her that it was possibly a money issue. "Forgive me; I shouldn't be nosy. I know a lot of people in the States who can't afford to travel to Scotland, so I imagine it's the same for some of your countrymen."
Graeme shook his head. "I'm afraid you don't understand, lass. It isn't that I can't afford it, though I probably couldn't even if it were possible, but more that America doesn't exist quite yet. As I said, you're here now, in our time, and there is no way to get to the place you came from."
"I don't understand. What are you talking about?" Danielle rolled her eyes. "Are you just playing a part? You know you don't have to stay in character for me."
Graeme sighed. "No, lass. That's not what I am saying. I didn't want to have to be the one to tell you, because I don't know a lot about it. However, I will try to explain a bit. You are here in mid-sixteenth-century Scotland. When you passed through the magicked doorway, you left your time and entered ours. My brother-in-law's wife, Eva, came through the doorway a little more than a year ago. She was from a place called Chicago, which she said was in America. But seeing as the country has only been discovered in the past seventy-five years or so, and it is clear across the globe, not very many people have made the trek. Also, Eva informed me that it is currently full of wilderness and indigenous people."
Danielle's heart started to race, and she began to feel just the tiniest bit light-headed. "What?"
"Indigenous? She said it meant people who live very primitively. Am I saying it wrong?"
Danielle shook her head. "No, no, it's not that. I meant how is this possible? How could I have traveled more than five hundred years back in time? Time travel isn't possible. You must be making it up!"
"I promise you, lass, what I'm telling you is the truth. You are the eighth woman to make it to our time."
Seven other women had been through time via that doorway? "H-how?" she asked, her eyes widening as she stared up at him.
"I can't claim to understand how it works, lass, only tell you what I've been told. You are the first I have witnessed arriving. From what I understand, Scáthach is a witch who built this castle. It is said that the stones are imbued with her magic. She travels through time, and for some reason, has decided to send women back through time to us here. Well, to the MacLeods, anyway. We do not know why she does this, though there has been some speculation that I will not go into." Graeme sighed. "I really should get you up to the Laird; he and his Lady wife can give you more information and explain things better than I can."
"So… so you're saying that I am in the fifteen hundreds?" Danielle looked around. "That I am literally in the fifteen hundreds? And this isn't a joke?"
"Aye." Graeme nodded.
"And, and there are seven other women who have been brought through time before me?"
"Aye." Graeme nodded again.
"And you swear that you aren't joking with me? Playing some kind of prank?"
"No, lass. I swear it on my sister's grave."
Danielle took a steadying breath. "Okay." She breathed in and out a few times. "Okay." She nodded. "How… um… how did the other women handle being told they'd traveled through time?" she asked, trying to wrap her mind around the fact that she was now not only in foreign territory, she was in a foreign time, one that, from what she recalled about history, wasn't very kind to women.
"About as well as you are, lass." Graeme smiled. "Many, I have been told, also thought we were actors."
"Re-enactors," Danielle murmured.
"What is the difference?" Graeme asked.
Danielle looked up at him. "Actors are, well, those who put on a play; re-enactors are people who I suppose are also actors, but they repeat things and events from history. Which I don't suppose would be something done in your time, so of course you've not heard the term." She shook her head, still trying to comprehend how she'd managed to find herself hundreds of years in the past. She'd wanted an adventure, but this was a bit extreme.
"Are you all right, lass?" Graeme looked at her concerned.
Danielle nodded. "Can you show me the rest of the castle?" she asked. "Maybe that will help me get my bearings."
Graeme shook his head, and regret flashed in his striking eyes for a moment. "Better not, lass. I need to get you to the Laird. It's my job, and I'm still…" he trailed off and sighed. "Never mind what I was about to say. If I could do so, I would, but for the time being, I must return to my post. Let me get you to the Laird, and I am sure he will arrange someone to show you around."
Danielle frowned. She'd hoped he would show her. She was comfortable with him now, but she understood having a job to do, especially one he didn't seem to enjoy, so she agreed. "All right. Take me to see this Laird of yours."