CHAPTER 12
“Do ye want to explain to me how you came upon the lass?” Callum asked.
Malcolm sat at the long table in the great hall, tracing the scarred wood where Callum’s claymore had landed. That was the day he was banished from Dundale for torching the MacDonald village, something he regretted now. His legs, crossed at the ankles, were stretched out in front of him.
Jamie, the youngest, was across from him with his boots propped on the table and a tankard of ale in his hand.
“I told ye,” Malcolm said on a sigh.
“Aye, ye did. But no the whole story.” Callum stood across from him, his thick forearms folded across his chest.
Since becoming laird, he had been a pain in the arse. Och, aye, his brother was doing what was best for the clan, but did he have to do it with such headstrong authority?
“Ye said ye were with Angus Sinclair,” Callum said.
“Aye, I did and I was.” Malcolm made no other explanation.
He didn’t want to tell his brother he had gone along with Angus to retaliate for the razed village because he didn’t want to endure his wrath for the second time.
“And?”
“Och, brother, do ye no see he doesna want to tell ye?” This from Jamie who chuckled as he said it.
Malcolm shot him a look that he hoped conveyed to him to shut his mouth.
“Ye wanted me to scout the area. That’s what I was doing. Angus and his son came along. That’s when we saw it. Like a rip in time,” Malcolm said, hoping that would give his brother the answer he needed. “The lass fell through it along with the man.”
“The man she named Bruce,” Callum said.
“Are ye daft? That’s what I said.”
“Don’t be cheeky,” Callum chastised. He ran a hand over his chin as he started to pace. “Who is he?”
“I dinnae ken,” Malcolm said. “But she came through with the piece of the keystone and he seemed to want it. He tried to get it from her. She said he attacked her.”
“Where is he now?”
Malcolm shrugged. “He ran off. Said it wasn’t over but by my reckoning, if he tries to harm her, he will have me to deal with.”
That stopped Callum’s pacing. He gave him a sideways glance. His brows raised as he looked at him, a weak smirk on his face. “Aye, then? Are ye smitten with the lass?”
Malcolm scoffed. The last thing he needed was to be smitten with the lass. Aye, she was lovely with a sharp tongue. Aye, he had enjoyed the feel of her in his arms as they rode to the Sinclair stronghold. That didn’t mean he was smitten with her.
Jamie smirked when he remained silent.
“I think that’s obvious, isn’t it, brother? He wanted to rip my hands off for touching her,” Jamie said. He dropped his feet from the table and unfolded his tall frame from his chair. “Malcolm has his eye on her, to be sure.”
Malcolm scowled at his brother. “Why don’t ye go to bed, ye scallywag.”
Jamie held up his hands in surrender. “I ken when I’m no wanted.”
He sauntered away toward the curved stairs to head off to bed. When he was gone, Callum eyed him again.
“Did ye ken she was Evie’s sister?”
“I didn’t at first,” he said. “I dinnae tell her the lass was here. Thought she’d like to find out on her own.”
He had to admit, he’d delighted seeing the surprise reunion between the two sisters and how they embraced. There was a real bond between them that was obvious. A bond he had once shared with his brothers.
Since Jamie had spurned the MacDonald lass, their father passed unexpectedly, and Callum learned of his crime when he burned down the village, things were tense between all three of them.
They were not as carefree as they were when they were children.
They had faced their own troubles when their mother died and then their sister.
But nothing compared to the strife that was between them now.
And now with this prophecy hanging over their heads, he wasn’t sure if things would ever be back to the way they were.
“It’s late. I best be on my way.” Malcolm rose from the chair and headed for the door.
“Where do ye think yer going?”
That stopped him. Surprise flickered through him as he turned to face Callum. “I dinnae think ye wanted me here since ye banished me. I made my report and brought the lass back to her sister.”
Callum pressed his lips together as he gazed at him, his mind working as he came to a decision. He heaved a heavy sigh. “I dinnae want ye to go. Stay and fight with us.”
Malcolm lifted a brow. “Ye say that as if ye expect more fighting to come.”
“If the prophecy is any indication, then aye. And now that there are two pieces of the keystone under my roof, they will double their efforts to get them,” Callum said.
He understood to whom his brother referred. MacDonald was desperate to get his hands on the keystone to increase his power and rule in the land.
“And if a third piece should arrive…” Callum added, he let his words trail away.
“Ye expect that to happen, then?” he asked.
“Ye ken the prophecy.”
He did. The words had pulsed through his mind from the moment he picked up the lass.
He couldn’t shake the memory of her arms wrapped tightly around his waist, her face buried against his back to shield her from the wind.
He had cheered inside when she decided to ride with him because he wanted her close.
The way Bruce glared at her with a fierce determination deep in his eyes was burned into his memory, too.
Even in the torchlight of the night, the desperation to get Chloe and the keystone had been written all over his face.
He, like Callum, understood things were not over between the MacDonalds.
They never would be until the keystone was whole and safe.
But when would that be? How would they be able to protect it—and their women—then?
It was up to them, the MacLeods and the Sinclairs, to keep the keystone out of their hands.
Finally, he said, “I do.”
“Good.”
Callum headed for the stone staircase leading up to the bed chambers. At the bottom, he paused and turned to face Malcolm. A ghost of a smile flickered over his face.
“I’m glad ye are.”
It was the closest thing to an apology for banishing him he’d gotten. He’d take it.
***
The next morning, when Chloe awoke, she was disoriented and confused. She lay in the unfamiliar bed staring up at the ceiling. Her heart kicked into high gear as she tried to recall where she was. Then it all flooded back. The reality of her situation crashed through her mind.
The stone. Bruce. Falling through time. Seeing Evie again.
Malcolm.
The way he had planted himself between her and Bruce that night was a memory that wouldn’t let go.
The strong curve of his shoulders. His rigid back.
The way he had pointed his sword at Bruce and threatened him.
His voice had been fierce and stern and even thinking of it now sent delicious shivers through her.
He had defended her—a stranger—without question.
Chloe had no doubt he would do it once more should Bruce threaten her again.
A knock sounded on her door. She pushed up on her elbows, then rolled out of bed and padded to the doorway. She pulled it open to see Evie on the other side with a bright smile and an armload of clothes.
“Morning!”
Chloe stepped aside to let her in, then closed the door.
She couldn’t help but notice how cheerful she looked or her rosy cheeks.
It was a bit out of character for her stoic, serious sister.
She wasn’t the carefree type, but maybe being in medieval Scotland married to Callum had changed her disposition.
“You’re in a good mood this morning.”
Evie dumped the clothes on the unmade bed. “I’m happy you’re here. And Callum has decided to let Malcolm stay.”
She drew her brows together. “What does that mean?”
“Oh, he banished him, so I guess he’s unbanishing him now.” She said it in a flippant way as she sorted through the clothes.
“He banished him? Why?”
“Malcolm can be a bit of a hothead,” Evie said. “He burned down a village as revenge for Rory MacDonald killing their father.”
Shock rolled through her as she thought of Malcolm and his quiet way.
He was a man of few words but clearly a man of action.
How could he have done such a horrible thing?
How could he have killed innocents in retaliation for the death of one man?
She had to remind herself she was no longer in her world. She was in the medieval world.
“I do wonder if allowing him to stay has anything to do with you,” Evie said, bringing her back to the present.
“With me? Why? Why would he want to stay because of me?”
Evie gave her a knowing grin. “Because…reasons. Now, let’s get you dressed so I can show you my prophecy proof.”
“That’s what we’re calling it now? Prophecy proof?”
“Well, that’s what it is.” Evie turned, holding a woolen gown. “Wait till you see. You won’t believe it.”
After Evie helped her dress in layers—stockings, shift, woolen gown, and boots, she took her by the hand and led her out of the bedchamber.
“Where are we going?” Chloe asked.
“You’ll see.”
They went down the curved stone staircase, then crossed the empty great hall to another corridor where she turned a corner and headed to one of the oversized oak doors. She pushed it open and paused in the doorway to wait for her to enter.
She said nothing as Chloe stepped inside and took in her surroundings.
Candelabras burned bright in the room, illuminating it in a soft glow. There was a large bed on one wall with thick curtains. On the other, a cold hearth. In front of that, a chair.
On the walls were large, colorful tapestries. At first glance, they seemed ordinary. But when she peered at them a long moment, she noticed the images moved. She pressed a hand to her throat as a quiet gasp escaped her.
As a historian, she’d seen her share of tapestries. But nothing like this. Nothing with shimmery thread woven through the fibers. They were large enough to cover the walls with six of them around the room.