Nathaniel felt as though he had just taken a step out of his own life and was watching it from outside himself. He listened to Emma and Stephen make small talk while he contributedthe occasional grunt, then heard himself thank the earl of Artane for such pleasant conversation.
“I’m off to take in a museum or two,” Stephen said with a smile. “Do come south, Emma, and bring your lad here. It would do him good to venture out of his comfort zone now and again.”
Nathaniel supposed punching Stephen de Piaget wasn’t the proper way to thank the man for lunch. Worse still, he suspected by the smirk on His Lordship’s face that he knew exactly what Nathaniel was thinking. Lastly, he had the feeling fists were not the earl’s weapon of choice.
He walked out of the shop with Emma and Stephen, bid the earl a fond farewell, then looked at the woman who was wearing an expression that a less cynical lad might have called wonder. She managed to keep her enthusiasm in check until Stephen had rounded the corner, then she looked at him in astonishment.
“We were just invited to Artane,” she said, sounding as if she were all of twelve years old and on the verge of jumping up and down. “To spend the night!”
“A sleepover,” he said, unable to truly add the proper amount of sourness to the words. “Thrilling.”
“I bet they have lots of treasures there,” she said. “Don’t you think?”
He looked at her standing there, wrapped in what passed in the present day for MacLeod plaid, and thought that his heart might just break if he had to look at her much longer. He was tempted almost past what he could bear to pull her into his arms and keep her there for a bit, say the next few decades.
He chose differently, because he was caught up in something that she needed to stay far away from.
“I’ll try to get you there” came out of his mouth before he could think better of it. “But first, let’s go examine that pile of stones up the way. Then I might have to resign myself to doing a bit of business, if you wouldn’t mind.”
“I could take another nap,” she said. “You know, to recover from the excitement of being invited to have a sleepover in a real live castle.”
He laughed a little in spite of himself, put his arm around her shoulders, then pulled her in the right direction. “That sounds delightful. As does tromping over history right now.”
•••
Anhour later, he leaned against a bit of castle wall and knew his peace was over.
His mobile rang at him, a single, delicate bell noise that generally signaled some sort of doom. Legal, personal, paranormal, who knew? It was generally one of the three and always unwelcome. He realized at that moment that he was almost tired of looking at those texts, but he was also too damned curious for his own good. He opened a message he realized was from the earl of Artane.
Blade was found in the Fergusson dungeon by P. MacLeod. Campbell reluctant to say how he came by it. No other details, sorry—SdP
Nathaniel watched Emma standing ten feet away from him with her hands on a piece of castle foundation. He almost couldn’t see her for the stars swimming in front of his eyes.
His dagger in the Fergussons’ dungeon?
He was never without that blade. If Patrick MacLeod had unearthed it in the present day only after it had been lingering in the mud for hundreds of years, that could only mean that he himself had lost it in the past. The only way he could have lost it in the past in the Fergusson dungeon was if he had been trapped in the Fergusson dungeon in a condition that would have made it impossible for him to hold on to that blade.
What in the bloody hell had he been doing there, and what had he been forced to do to escape?
He looked at Emma, beautiful, fresh-faced Yank that she was, and felt his heart stop for a moment or two. It hit him with the force of a dozen angry fists exactly what he was going to have to do, and that was get Emma as far away from him and the madness that was his life as possible. If he had to buy her a cottage somewhere,anywherebesides next to his, he would do it without hesitation.
He couldn’t allow her to become entangled in what he had the feeling was coming his way.
And it had everything to do with a dagger that found itself where it absolutely shouldn’t have.
Chapter 13
Emmastood at a figurative crossroads and tried to ignore the warning noises going off in her head with all the delicacy of gigantic church bells ringing at noon. That was generally the sort of thing that happened when one knew one was headed in a direction that shouldn’t be taken.
If she’d had any sense, she would have turned around, settled the MacLeod plaid beret Nathaniel had bought for her more firmly on her head, and found the closest coffee shop to hide in until Fate or Opportunity or Crazy continued on to find another victim.
But she had to know.
She took a casual look around her for thugs, earls, and neighbors made ill by looking at random historical items, then started off in a direction she couldn’t help but go.
What she was supposed to be doing was heading back up to Edinburgh Castle to wander around a bit more in history. She’d agreed with Nathaniel that such was her best option while he dealt with business stuff courtesy of a quick use of one of Brian’s offices. She still wasn’t sure what he did exactly, which would have left Bertie the Spy shaking his head in disbelief that she’d let that little tidbit go unexamined for so long, but she knew it had to do with investing, and maybe that was enough for the moment. It was going to keep him busy while she went off and did some serious nose-poking into things she knew she should stay out of.
Snooping was such an adrenaline rush.
