By the time the sun had set, those two crazies had put up their swords and were chatting amicably about things she didn’t pay attention to. She was too busy looking at a medieval laird and his new friend.
She was starting to think her life was as weird as Nathaniel’s.
Jamie tucked his sword up against his shoulder as if he’d done the same thing thousands of times—which she suspected he had—and held out his hand.
“Mistress Emma,” he said. “I hope your afternoon was passed most pleasantly.”
“I’m still trying to recover.”
Jamie laughed and reached out to clap Nathaniel on the shoulder. If Nathaniel winced, she couldn’t blame him. He didn’t look much worse for the wear, but she supposed that might have been because he’d been putting off meeting the laird of the hall up the way for five years, and getting that out of the way at present had to have been a relief.
“He showed well,” Jamie said. “I’m not saying I couldn’t wrench a bit more finesse out of him with the proper time and attention, but he’s done well all on his own.”
“He’s saved my life,” Emma said honestly.
“And that, lass, is something we should talk about. My wife and bairns have deserted me to make mischief in Her Majesty’s little village down south, so I’ve nothing but time on my hands. We’ll have supper tonight, then investigate this situation at our leisure.”
Emma slipped her hand into Nathaniel’s as they walked and didn’t meet his eyes. There was nothing to be said about their situation and there was absolutely nothing to be said about the way his hand was trembling. She didn’t blame him a bit. If she’d had to face that maniac James MacLeod over swords, she wouldn’t have been trembling slightly, she would have been in hysterics.
She squeezed her friend’s hand and walked with him back to the great hall, very glad she was going to be keeping to the upper floors of the MacLeod keep for a change.
•••
Supperwas very good mostly because Nathaniel cooked it. She sat at a worn table in the kitchen with Jamie, enjoying avery lovely glass of wine, and pretended to watch Nathaniel when the truth was, she was watching Jamie.
How was it a man had hopped over so many centuries yet managed to carve out such a perfect life for himself? He didn’t mention anything specific about his past or his transition to the present, though it was obvious he assumed both she and Nathaniel knew. Actually, she suspected he hadn’t assumed anything. If there was one thing she thought she might guess with a fair degree of confidence, it was that James MacLeod found himself caught by surprise very rarely.
She wished she could say the same for herself.
She found it somewhat interesting that he didn’t seem to be hiding behind a façade. He was who he was without apology or embarrassment. Then again, if he had been the laird of the clan MacLeod at the turn of the fourteenth century, she supposed he had faced much sterner tests than a couple of modern-day gawkers.
“Mistress Emma, perhaps you would care to wander around the castle?”
She came back to herself to find Jamie watching her. She attempted a smile. “I’d love to see the upstairs.”
Jamie lifted an eyebrow. “Upstairs?”
She needed to get a better grip on herself, she decided abruptly. “Oh, you know, the whole keep, I mean.”
He looked at her in a way that left her with absolutely no doubt that anyone had pulled anything over on him, ever.
“Have you seen other parts of my keep, Mistress Emma?” he asked politely.
“The dungeon,” she admitted, feeling as if she were all of ten getting caught in a whopper of a lie. “In 1387.”
Jamie sighed gustily. “I want it noted that I filled that pit in to please my wife, many years earlier. I can’t control what anyone who came after me did.” He looked at Nathaniel. “I believe ’tis time, lad, that you and I had speech together. Your lady may certainly stay if she cares to.”
“Or I could just go wait in the car,” Emma offered.
“No,” Nathaniel said, shooting her a look. “You’ll drive off without me.”
“I might need a nap.”
“You might need a keeper,” Jamie said wisely. He smiled. “You could go investigate upstairs, if you like. There is achamber down the passageway from my thinking chamber you might enjoy. ’Tis full of steel.”
“Can I borrow anything—”
“No,” Nathaniel said, sounding horrified.
