CHAPTER 13
Chloe followed Evie into the great hall.
Her pulse quickened the moment she saw Malcolm.
He sat at the long table with a tankard and a trencher of thick porridge in front of him.
A stack of what appeared to be small cakes were beside the trencher.
His gaze lifted, locking onto hers, and for a breathless moment, the room faded away.
It was only Malcolm with his rugged good looks, his quiet charm, and those sea-green eyes that saw far too much.
Chloe forced her feet to move to the table, her footsteps and her thudding heart far too loud in the deafening silence.
What was it about him that turned her inside out with a single look?
“I’m going to grab some food for us. I’ll be right back.”
Evie hustled away before Chloe could object, leaving her alone with the man. Almost as if she’d planned it. Her insides jittered as she perched in the seat as far away from him as possible. A tight knot coiled in the pit of her stomach.
“Did yer sister show ye the tapestries?” he asked.
The question surprised her. She peered at him from across the table. “Yes.”
He leaned back in his chair. Their eyes met and for a moment, she thought she could get lost in those sea-green eyes.
They were so full of life. He ran his hand over his beard, the coarse hair bristling against his skin.
She had never liked men with beards, but there was something intriguing about Malcolm.
His long dark hair hung over his shoulders.
Another thing. She had never liked a man with hair longer than her own.
“And what did ye think of that?” he asked. He looked genuinely interested.
She tugged her lower lip through her teeth, wondering how to reply.
She wasn’t sure what she thought about these enchanted tapestries and she had questions about them.
Where did they come from? How did they work?
Why did they show images of the ancient past as well as their present? It was all a bit of a mystery.
“I’m not sure what to think.”
He chuckled.
She said, “What do you think about them?”
A ghost of a smile flickered over his partially hidden mouth. “Did yer sister tell ye of the prophecy?”
A question for a question. “She did.”
“And do ye no believe it?”
“Evie seems to believe it.”
“That’s no what I asked ye, lass.”
She kept her gaze on him, unwavering. “Do you believe it?”
This time he laughed out loud. “My da told the story from the time I was knee high. He was adamant the day would come when we would have to defend ourselves against the MacDonalds and protect the keystone with our lives.” He paused to take a drink of his ale. “It seems that time has arrived.”
“And you think our arrival—mine and my sister’s—has something to do with this prophecy?”
“Och, I ken it does.”
He grinned as he broke one of the small cakes in half. She eyed it as he popped half into his mouth. As if on impulse, he rose from his seat, picked up several of the cakes, and walked down the table to her. He held them out to her.
“What’s this?” she asked.
“Oatcakes. Some of the finest around. Roslyn is a fine baker.”
She took the stack of oatcakes, their hands brushing. Like before, the touch left an unexpected tingling sensation in his wake. He popped the other half of the oatcake in his mouth and then walked back to his seat.
Chloe broke the dense cake in half and then took a bite. The taste was both savory and sweet with a magical flavor that made her close her eyes as she chewed. He wasn’t wrong. Roslyn was a fine baker. She had never tasted anything as delectable as that.
When she finished chewing, she opened her eyes and met his gaze. He was smiling.
“So, ye like it then?”
“I do,” she said.
Silence drummed through the great hall. She wished Evie would return. She was no good at small talk and had no idea what to say or do. So, she said the first thing that came to mind.
“Evie said Callum banished you but decided to let you stay.”
The glower on his face was an indication it was the wrong thing to say. All she had wanted to do was make conversation and instead it appeared she said something she shouldn’t have.
“She told ye that, did she?”
“I guess it’s a sore spot,” she said. “Forget I mentioned it.”
“Och, aye, I cannae be doing that, now, can I? Do ye wish to know why I was banished from Dundale?” He lifted one dark brow as if in challenge.
She shrugged one shoulder, indifferent, as she tried to play it cool. She already knew the story of why from Evie. Even so, she wanted to hear it from him, in his own words. There was an underlying curiosity about him she couldn’t shake.
“Sure.”
“I torched one of the MacDonald villages.” He said it with such calm it was as though he were speaking of the weather.
She was enough of an historian to understand what that meant. It meant killing innocents and displacing those who had managed to survive.
“You burned people’s homes? Why?”
“Vengeance for killing our da.” He broke another oatcake in half and ate it, as though this were the most normal conversation to have.
“An eye for an eye, then?” she asked.
He nodded, smiling. As if he were proud of himself.
She remained silent as she considered his answer.
Evie had told her the MacDonald laird himself dealt Hamish the death blow.
Did Malcolm think killing innocents was the way to get back at the man who had ultimately killed their father?
Though, she supposed, that was normal behavior for men of this century.
“Ye seem to disapprove of that,” he said.
Chloe was never one to hide her expressions. He must have seen her abhorrence flickering over her face.
“It’s not for me to approve or disapprove.”
Where the devil was Evie? What was taking her so long to return from the kitchen? She shifted in her seat, uncomfortable under his scrutinizing gaze. She ate another piece of the oatcake as silence descended in the great hall. The pastry turned to ash in her mouth.
She shoved back from the table and stood. “I’m not hungry anymore.”
He said nothing as she stalked toward the door to the great hall, pushing it open and slipping into the morning. As soon as she did, she regretted her decision as the morning wind was cold and she didn’t have her cloak.
She didn’t know where she was going or what she intended to do. She only knew she had to be out of that room with that infuriating man.
Callum was at one of the outer buildings conversing with a tall, dark-haired man. He was deep in conversation with him.
Near him, the stables were a bustle of activity.
She saw the stable hands coming and going and assumed they were busy mucking stalls and caring for the horses.
She had never been one for horses. Neither she nor Evie had experience with them.
Despite living and growing up in Texas, they had never been around them since they lived in the suburbs.
She recalled Malcolm telling her his brother’s wife—Evie—had become an accomplished rider.
She wondered if she, too, would be able to achieve that.
A distinctive clang caught her attention.
In another building, sparks flew as the clang sounded again.
Excitement pumped through her at the thought of seeing a working forge.
She followed the sound until she found her way to the blacksmith.
He was busy hammering out what appeared to be a sword.
She paused to watch, amazed by his strength.
“If ye wanted a tour, lass, all ye had to do was ask,” Malcolm said.
She turned to see him standing behind her. He held her cloak out to her.
“Ye forgot this.”
Grateful and glad to stop shivering, she took it from him and wrapped it around her. He, though, wore no cloak. Only his tunic, breeches, plaid, and black boots that looked as though they had seen better days.
“Thanks,” she muttered.
Clouds gathered in the sky, making the sun come and go. Some looked gray as though they might bring rain.
“Do ye wish for a tour?” he asked. Hope tinged his words.
She wanted to refuse, especially after learning why he had been banished from Dundale. But something pulled at her to accept his invitation. A gut feeling. Finally, she nodded.
“All right, then. Give me a tour.”
He motioned toward the forge and gave her a quirk of a smile. “The smithy.”
She couldn’t help herself. She laughed. “Yes, I see that.”
Malcolm motioned for them to continue walking. Next was the chapel. It was a small stone building sitting off to one side. “There is where ye sister and my brother were handfasted.”
She understood, of course, what that meant.
They were to be married for a year and a day.
The marriage would be final if she produced a child within that time from their union.
She wondered what it was like to witness a true, medieval handfasting.
Evie hadn’t bothered to elaborate on the details of their wedding.
She was more interested in telling her about the prophecy and their entwined destinies with the MacLeods.
“Was it a nice ceremony?” she asked. She looked around the small one-room building trying to envision what it was like to witness.
Wooden pews lined up like soldiers. At the front of the room, the alter where the bishop stood to deliver his sermon or where he had bound Callum and Evie together after they exchanged vows.
“I dinnae ken.”
She cut him a questioning glance.
“Wee Jamie and I were gathering the men to fight when they were handfasted.”
She tipped her head to one side. “To fight?”
“Did yer sister no tell ye?” he asked, surprise flickering over his face.
She shook her head. Yet another thing she had left out. She made a mental note to question her about that later when they were alone. These were things Chloe needed to know. What sort of fighting was there? Why?
“Ah. Well, MacDonald and his men attacked the keep. To take yer sister and the piece of the keystone she possesses. We were outnumbered. The battle was no going well. Callum sent Evie away with the keystone in the hopes she would return to her time.” He walked to one of the pews and sat, the wood creaking under his weight.
She sat across from him, intrigued by this story. She held her hands in her lap. “But she didn’t return.”
“No, she dinnae.” There was a light of pride in his eyes as he told her the next part of the story. “She came to the battlefield. In her hand was the keystone. She used it as a weapon to help defeat MacDonald.” He paused there, as if remembering the battle.
It must have been horrific. And her sister was in the middle of it all. She tried to imagine it.
“How did she use the keystone as a weapon?”
“Och, lass, ye wouldna believe it. She held it in her hand.
It was glowing, sending light shooting out from her fist. It was a strange thing to watch, to be sure.
The world around us seemed to slow and then stop.
But she…well, she had this strange sort of shimmering light around her, Callum, and Rory MacDonald.
I couldna see what happened. But Callum told me later.
“The keystone, he said, gave her the power to show him what would happen if he continued to fight. If she hadna come, he would have died.”
Incredible. She stared at him, waiting for him to finish the story. Though she tried to imagine how Evie had felt knowing the man she loved was about to die, she could not.
“What happened then?”
He looked thoughtful as he remembered what had happened during this battle Evie failed to mention.
“MacDonald stabbed Callum in the shoulder. He tried to capture Evie and take the stone from her. But then…” He paused, a ghost of a smile flickering over his lips.
“She punched the man right in the chest. Her fist exploded in blinding white light, and it sent him flying backward, soaring through the air until he landed on the ground. He was defeated. Then Rory MacDonald and his men retreated.”
Chloe was dumbfounded. She tried hard to imagine her sister punching a man bigger and stronger than her in the chest. She had renewed admiration for her and vowed to ask her about it the next time they talked in private.
“The light…that was this keystone, wasn’t it?” Chloe asked.
“Aye, it was. A powerful little object, that.”
Her own piece of the keystone was still in her pocket. She resisted the urge to reach for it and pull it out to examine it. How had Evie done it? How did she learn how to harness the power of the stone in such a short amount of time?
“That’s some story,” she said at last.
“Och, do ye no believe it, then?” he asked. Disappointment flooded his face.
She sucked in a deep breath, expelled it. “It’s not that I don’t believe it. It’s just that I know my sister and she would never harm anything or anyone and she certainly doesn’t know how to fight like that.”
He stood up quickly, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “If ye dinnae believe me, then ye should ask her yerself.”
“Oh, I plan to.”
Malcolm didn’t bother to hide his annoyance as he stomped out of the chapel.