Chapter 27
“I’m here,” Nancy called, closing her eyes and drinking in the fresh, salt-tinged air, her lungs filling with the freedom of it.
She had always been an overthinker. Perhaps Hunter had just cured her of that affliction. Although she couldn’t exactly go running to him to have him ‘calm’ her down every time she spiraled, or there’d definitely be some raised eyebrows.
The ladder creaked as Jane appeared, followed closely by her husband, a huge bear of a man, his grizzled face made all the more rugged with a couple of scars, his eyes cold and intimidating.
Yet, when he touched his hand to the small of his wife’s back and glanced down at her, as if to make sure she was okay, there was an immediate softening to his features that warmed Nancy’s heart.
A man who’d raze half of Scotland for the woman he loves. A man worth staying three hundred years in the past for.
“Thank goodness,” Jane panted, catching her breath. “I’ve been looking all over for you, and getting a little bit worried, to be honest.”
“I’m fine,” Nancy replied, meaning it.
Jane’s expression relaxed. “I had no idea you already knew Dougal’s aunt. She said you needed some fresh air, but there are so many places that you can get lost in this castle. I’m still figuring it out, and I’ve been here a while now.”
“In fairness, I had no idea my former neighbor was a time-traveling witch,” Nancy said with a chuckle, surprised that she could find it in herself to laugh about the situation. “Honestly, I’m fine. I just… had a few shocks, that’s all. I’m better now.”
“Shocks?” Jane furrowed her brow.
Nancy nodded. “I’ll tell you all about it later.” She paused, looking up at Hunter. “We should get back to the party.”
“Aye, we should,” Dougal said coolly. “Ye put so much effort into arrangin’ it, love. Ye should get to enjoy some of it.”
Grimacing, Nancy couldn’t help but feel that was a slight dig at her. But how was she to know that Jane would come looking for her? If she’d known that, she’d have just gone to her room and stuck a note on the door saying that she didn’t want to be disturbed.
Then again, if she’d done that, she wouldn’t have experienced the delicious art of relinquishing control.
“I don’t care about the party,” Jane insisted with a smile. “I care that my fellow travelers are doing well.”
Dougal sighed. “Ye modern lasses are a pesky breed.”
“And you wouldn’t have us any other way,” Jane teased, leaning into him.
A faint smile lifted the corner of his mouth as he looked across at Hunter. “When are ye marryin’ yer modern lass again? I ought to give ye a list of warnings before ye commit.” He pressed a kiss to his wife’s hair. “Jane is still surprisin’ me, even now.”
“Are you saying you wouldn’t commit if you’d known more about my strange ways before you married me?” Jane raised an eyebrow at him, amusement lacing her voice.
“I like the surprise,” Dougal replied, his tone sultry. “But Laird Lochlann could certainly use a list of yer odd words, to prevent misunderstandings.”
Jane laughed, the two of them gazing at one another, clearly sharing a private joke.
Smiling at the sweet scene, Nancy was about to remind the happy couple that there wasn’t going to be a wedding when Hunter got in ahead of her, declaring with firm confidence, “Our weddin’ will take place in a few weeks, on the 10th of June.”
“What?” Nancy sputtered, her eyes wide.
“It was me maither’s birthday,” Hunter replied, oblivious. “It would be a fine day for a weddin’.”
“No!” Nancy shook her head. “No, you… We… we can’t. No, choose another day! For God’s sake, why did you have to say that?”
As she stared at him, it was as if she could feel fate winking at her, laughing at the fact that she’d thought one moment of surrender could bring her lasting peace of mind.
It was like Jane had told her: fate wasn’t always kind and had a way of fixing things, making things happen as it liked.
His mother’s birthday. Of course it is.
She broke away from Hunter and hurried toward the hatch, climbing down the ladder too fast to care that it could break. Reaching the tower below, she didn’t stop, running off as if she could somehow run from what was already woven into destiny, quite literally.
Storming down a hallway that looked like the rest, disoriented and devastated that Hunter was the one who’d named his own death day, she wasn’t aware of footsteps echoing behind her until arms wrapped around her, pulling her to a halt, holding her tight against a familiar solid chest.
“What’s wrong, lass?” Hunter asked, his voice soft.
She shook her head and tried to fight her way out of his embrace, but he held fast, murmuring soothing sounds as he kissed her hair, her shoulder, the side of her neck, the apple of her cheek.
“Ye’re safe,” he said, over and over. “Lass, ye’re safe.”
At length, she stopped struggling and surrendered to the comfort of his embrace, twisting around in his arms so she could hug him in return.
Her arms looped around his neck as she stood on tiptoe, pressing herself against him as hard as she could, grounding herself in the solidity and security of him, even if he couldn’t do anything to prevent what destiny had decided for him.
It knew I’d start to care for you, Hunter. Fate knew.
She gripped him tighter, so she wouldn’t spiral into that sense of no control.
“Now, will ye tell me what’s wrong with the 10th of June?” he asked, a faint note of amusement in his voice. “I never kent someone could have such a visceral reaction to a date.”
“The tapestry,” she breathed, burying her face in his neck. “It’s the date depicted in the tapestry.”
That was what the art teacher had said.
“The one that brought ye here?”
She nodded, clutching him closer. “It’s the day you die, Hunter.”
Through juddering breaths, she finally explained what she’d seen at the museum, how each panel of the elaborate, ancient tapestry had played out and ended with her about to fall to her knees, behind her groom’s skewered body. Hunter’s skewered body. Her pale wedding gown splashed with his blood.
“I’m the bride,” she whispered shakily. “I was always the bride. And… I can’t stay and watch you die.
I can’t stay and watch Freya be robbed of a father.
It’s why I have to leave. I have to try and change this, but then…
you’ve just put the date out into the universe, and…
I don’t know if it will let me change a damn thing now! ”
His fingertips gently caressed her back, his arm subtly tightening around her as if to stop destiny from pulling them apart. His breathing had slowed, his body rigid as she clung to him, and though she couldn’t see his face, she could practically hear the cogs turning in his mind.
“I daenae ken what happens in yer world, lass, but here, when we like somethin’, we keep it,” he said at last, his voice so gentle, so comforting that she nearly burst into tears. “I told ye before, I daenae believe in worry. That’s not how ye fight.”
“You don’t understand,” she whimpered, tears pricking her eyes. “It already happened. You’re supposed to die on our wedding day. I… I saw it.”
She felt him smile as he kissed her shoulder. “And now that ye’ve told me, I can do somethin’ about it. I’ll be aware of it, enough to stop it.”
“That’s not how this works,” she protested, wishing they could rewind to ten minutes ago, when she’d been happy, when her mind had been at peace.
“How do ye ken?” he asked, pulling back and brushing a lock of hair from her face. “How do ye ken that’s nae how this works? Have ye gone back in time before?”
She blinked at him. “Well, no, but—”
“Then how can ye be sure I cannae change things?” he interrupted, his eyes warm.
“I’m a warrior, lass. I’ve survived war.
I think I can survive our weddin’ day. Aye, there’s nay way I can lose when I ken the enemy is comin’.
An ambush? That’s a different thing entirely, but this isnae an ambush now.
I can prepare. Make arrangements. And if destiny still sees fit to take me from ye…
well, then it was always meant to be that way, and I willnae waste what time we do have, with ye or me daughter. ”
She hadn’t thought about that. Why hadn’t she thought about that?
She’d been so concerned with getting out of the 1700s, believing it was the only solution, that she hadn’t paused to consider that something might be done within this timeline.
If she could figure out who the killer was, then maybe the future could be altered.
But what about breaking the universe?
She glanced back the way she had come, wondering if she ought to speak to Jane about it, to hear her opinion.
Then again, if Jane told her that nothing could be changed, would it stop her? After tonight, after already losing so much, Nancy couldn’t promise that she wouldn’t do something stupid anyway to save one person who had begun to mean a lot to her.
“But I have… a life to go home to,” she said haltingly. “Why risk it, when I can just leave sooner?”
He leaned in, stealing a kiss from her lips. “Ye have until the 10th of June to decide whether it’s the life ye left or the life ye might have here that ye want. I willnae stop ye if ye choose to go, but I willnae let yer decision be driven by fear.”
“You think marrying you and staying in your world wouldn’t come without some worry?” she asked, with a nervous laugh.
Was she seriously contemplating this? Surely, it was the high from her orgasm still talking, because this was madness. And yes, Jane and Adeline had done it, and they seemed entirely, enviably happy, but that didn’t mean it would be that way for Nancy.
Then again, here was a man who was willing to marry her despite the threat, who had taken the explanation of where she’d come from with ease, who had made her feel more like herself than she had in a long, long time, who had known how to help at her lowest.
There was nothing better in her world. There was no one there, not even Emily, who could make her feel this safe, this unburdened.
“Do ye ken what me enemies fear, lass?” he murmured.
She shrugged. “You.”
“Aye. Nae death, nae me sword, but me. I willnae let a tapestry decide me fate, nay matter what ye saw. If ye want to return to yer world, all ye need to do is say so. I only offered to marry ye to protect ye, so I willnae hold it against ye,” he said. “But the choice is yers.”
The reminder of why he’d proposed stung a little, surprising her. Did he doubt her story? Did he think she was using it as an excuse? She wasn’t sure, but it made her bristle.
“Of course,” she said flatly. “Well, that’s definitely something to think about, especially as you don’t trust women anyway. What sort of marriage would we have if you survived our wedding day? One full of doubt and mistrust?”
His brow furrowed. “I daenae trust many people, lass, least of all a weaver who thinks to ken me better than I ken meself. I will survive our weddin’ day, but it’s up to ye if ye wish to be there or nae.
It’s up to ye to decide if this is the world ye want.
” He leaned in for a moment, his thumb brushing her chin.
“Marryin’ me is one thing I willnae command, though ye might like the surrender even more than tonight. ”
With the ghost of a smirk on his lips, he walked past her, leaving her alone and breathless in the hallway, wondering what on earth she was going to do.
You’re a reporter, Nancy! She straightened up. First things first, speak to those who know the victim, even if the victim isn’t dead yet. Then make a list of suspects.
If it weren’t for the tapestry, she would have no doubt in her mind that Hunter could take on whatever enemy wanted him dead. Maybe he still could, now that he knew there was a threat, but it couldn’t hurt to dig a little deeper and find out who the killer was before the murder ever took place.
After all, it was better to take the bullets out of the gun than put all faith in a bulletproof vest.
And Nancy no longer had any trust whatsoever in fate’s trigger finger.