Chapter 14 #2
Sam had to concede that was true, but he did so silently. His cousin was, after all, the aggrieved party and apparently didn’t mind dishing out a bit of very chilly revenge.
Jackson frowned thoughtfully. “How did you know to come rescue me?”
“Trade secret,” Sam said, then he ducked as his cousin swung. He straightened in time to find Jackson scowling and Oliver smiling. He looked at his cousin’s new friend. “What’s your pound of flesh in all this?”
“Jackson invited me along for a hunt and I couldn’t say no.”
“Try harder next time.”
Oliver only smiled. “You’re being hunted by others, you know.”
“I know,” Sam muttered. “I suppose ‘tis too late to ask you not to add to that number, isn’t it?”
“It might be,” Oliver agreed. “And actually, I’m just here for security.”
“To keep Jack safe from me?” Sam asked sourly. “Well done, you.”
“You wish,” Jackson said with a snort, then he winced. “Damn you, Sam, my lady is going to be highly displeased with your treatment of me tonight.”
“I left you breathing,” Sam said with as much bluster as he could manage. It was Jackson, after all, and he had a healthy respect for his cousin’s skills.
‘Twas a bit odd, he had to admit, to realize that he was slightly older than his cousin at present, not the dozen years younger he’d been when he and Theo had pushed Jack into the Future.
He knew why, but perhaps that could be revisited when he had something strengthening within reach and Zachary Smith on the other side of a pub table.
They would at least be well-watered whilst discussing the rather barking vagaries of time.
“Why are you really here?” Sam asked.
Jackson shrugged. “Revenge.”
Sam looked at him evenly.
“Very well,” Jackson said with a faint smile, “in addition to repaying you for all the hauntings my little visit to Elizabethan England inspired—I’ll see to your dastardly brother later—I thought you might like to be found.”
“Did you?”
“I did,” Jackson said easily. “I realize we had too many relations in the past, but perhaps we don’t have enough in this time, aye?”
Sam put his hand over his belly, just to make certain his cousin hadn’t shoved an invisible sword into his gut. He had to take a deep breath or two before he trusted himself to speak.
“Fair enough,” he said hoarsely.
Jackson rolled his eyes, gave him a quick, manly hug, then shoved him away. “Enough of your pitiful mewlings before I lose my supper. What sort of odious little rodent is trailing after you in this century?”
“What sorts,” Oliver corrected mildly. He smiled briefly at Sam. “There is more than one odious little rodent, if we’re going to be entirely accurate.”
Sam dragged his abused hands through his hair, then sighed deeply. “Then the list is longer than I feared. And unfortunately, I have absolutely no idea as to his—or, their, rather—identities.”
“Where’s Theo?” Jackson asked.
Sam glanced at Oliver who only shrugged.
“I’ve heard it all,” he said.
“He’s also wed to Ambrose MacLeod’s aunt,” Jackson added, “so not only has he heard it all, he’s done quite a bit of it himself. You can speak freely.”
Sam leaned back against the nearest dry-stone wall and shoved his hands in his jeans pockets. He winced, made himself a mental note that bruised and bloodied fists and pockets didn’t go well together, then settled for clutching the stone to keep himself on his feet.
“Sam?”
Sam sighed. “Theo went to Ightam Mote in 1657 to toss a lad who we don’t think belongs there onto the nearest rubbish heap. He was getting in the way of a budding romance.”
Jackson and Oliver exchanged a look that took no effort to interpret.
“We didn’t start out to be matchmakers,” he muttered.
Jackson smiled briefly. “Don’t think I don’t personally appreciate your efforts.”
“You absolutely should,” Sam said without hesitation.
“And so you don’t have to ask: aye, you would have escaped Lord Fulbert’s time on your own but you would have left quite a bit of damage behind and you yourself would be sporting a very large scar on your face that would have ruined your looks. You’re welcome.”
Jackson’s eyes had grown wide. “Many thanks.”
“I’m certain your wife appreciates it more,” Sam said, then he shook his head. “It’s all in the past, which doesn’t do anything for our troubles here in the present.”
“What of that lad in 1657?” Oliver asked. “Has he found his way to the current day, do you think?”
“Or from the present day to the past,” Sam said, “which is one of the things Theo went to investigate. He used the excuse of overseeing an encounter between a woman named Penitence and her beau, but we both knew he was off to see about this other lad and encourage him to step away from the gates.”
“How long as he been gone?” Jackson asked.
Sam checked his watch, then frowned. “Four days, give or take a few hours, unless he’s home luxuriating in the bath whilst I’m here, pretending to be him.”
“Have you checked any historical records for his possible whereabouts?”
Sam shot him a look. “I’ve been a bit busy.”
“So we saw,” Oliver said, then he smiled briefly. “She’s a lovely little bird. Very fierce.”
“Faeries can be when they’ve been disturbed,” Sam agreed.
Jackson looked to be fighting a smile. “You haven’t said that to her, have you?”
“Of course I have,” Sam said, then he looked at his cousin quickly. “Should I not?”
Jackson shrugged. “I wouldn’t presume to give you wooing advice.”
Sam looked at Oliver who likewise shook his head. He looked at both those successfully married men and shrugged helplessly.
“I’m not wooing her,” he said, then he attempted a careless laugh. “We’re merely comrades-in-arms. All in for the mystery, what?”
Jackson and Oliver exchanged a look Sam wasn’t sure he cared for, but he would wait until Theo had returned, then quietly dispose of the both of them before they could open their fat mouths and ruin his friendship with Harriet. And then he would see to his brother before he could charm her away.
“Anyone else we should be looking for?” Jackson asked.
Sam dragged himself back to the current conversation with something of an effort. “Are you helping me now?” he asked in surprise. “After that?”
“Anything for a brother,” Oliver said, “even if he’s just a cousin.”
Sam frowned at him. “And you and I are related, how?”
“I’m Patrick MacLeod’s adopted younger brother,” Oliver said seriously. “And the gauntlet it took to get there is something I’ll leave off describing. I’m also related by a ridiculously convoluted family tree to Zachary Smith who is wed, if memory serves, to your cousin Maryanne.”
“My favorite cousin,” Sam noted.
“Ouch,” Jackson said.
Sam shot him a look, had a quick smile in return, then attempted to focus his mind on the suspects he couldn’t name. He looked at the men facing him and sighed.
“Who to look for?” he echoed grimly. “Actors, time-travelers, a few lads we might have pushed into piles of manure or shoved into cesspits on our way back to the current day? The saints only know how many writers Theo’s offended along the way—and most all of them have an extensive knowledge of how to commit murder and get away with it. ”
“And you haven’t started a proper list?”
“I’ve been busy!”
“Wooing that wee faery of his,” Oliver said wisely.
“Not very well,” Jackson said, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “He’ll need aid in his endeavors.”
“Has he ever wooed anyone before?”
“Not to my knowledge. Then again, I knew him last as a child of ten-and-six, so—” Jackson stopped suddenly, then looked at Sam narrowly. “I forgot to repay you for the morning after my wedding.”
Oliver rubbed his hands together. “Do tell.”
“We alerted him to the arrival of sustenance in the hall,” Sam said without hesitation. “And this is what altruism gets you, so never again. You two can go feed yourselves. I’m finished here.”
He walked away. He was not at all surprised to find himself soon flanked by his companions, though he had to admit he was relieved they simply accompanying him, not roughing him up a final time.
He wasn’t entirely certain Jackson hadn’t cracked one of his ribs, but it had been a moment or two since he’d brawled with someone possessing his cousin’s unusual fighting skills.
Obviously he should have been attending to more than just his swordplay.
“Make a list of possible ruffians,” Jackson said. “Send me a text missive with names.”
“And what am I to tell Harriet if she asks about that list?” he asked wearily.
“I wouldn’t know,” Jackson said. “I was honest with my lady from the very beginning.”
Sam looked at Oliver who only pursed his lips and shook his head slowly.
“Give her as much truth as you can,” Jackson amended. “They don’t like it when they find out things afterward, though sometimes it can’t be helped.”
Sam looked at them both. “I don’t want her harmed.”
Oliver smiled. “That’s why I’m here.”
“And I’ll oversee the entire operation so you don’t need to trouble your wee head over it,” Jackson said briskly. “Go have yourself a rest, lad, then a bit of a think. We’ll sort this soon enough.”
Sam didn’t argue when they abandoned him at the back of the garden and came close to simply vanishing into the shadows. He’d seen enough of that sort of thing thanks to other methods to be slightly impressed with their skills.
He hopped over the fence, then kept to as much shadow as possible himself as he made his way through the garden. He had a final look around the outside of the house, found nothing out of place, then let himself in the front door.
The house was silent, which would have unnerved him if it hadn’t been for the lateness of the hour.
He found the downstairs loo and smiled a little at the sight of a new toothbrush and dental tape waiting there.
Harriet making his life a bit easier, as seemed to be her habit.
He wondered how he could do the same thing for her.
Given his circumstances, he wasn’t sure that was at all possible.