She shrugged. “I have a finance and payroll team at the hotel that takes care of all of that kind of thing, but I’ll take a look.”
She opened the ledger and began flipping through the pages. It contained itemized entries detailing the date, the amount paid and to whom, although many of the columns had yet to be totalled. She scanned the columns and then stopped abruptly as she noticed something.
The dates.
June 14th, 1445. July 11th 1445. September 26th, 1445. She blinked, sure she was misreading, and looked again. She wasn’t. A shot of alarm went through her and her heartbeat increased a little. What the hell? She skipped to the last entry, about two thirds of the way through the ledger. These entries were written in a different script which she guessed was Reid’s handwriting. And there was a date on the last entry.
September 8th 1446.
She stared. The stark black lines seemed to burn into her retina. 1446.
Was that...could it mean...that was the dateright now?
No. It couldn’t be. It made no sense.
Are you sure about that?a traitorous little voice in the back of her head whispered.You’ve been assuming this is all some elaborate game these people are playing. What if it’s not? What if the clothing, the castles, the horses and weapons and everything else isn’t part of some crazy re-enactment? What if it’s real? What if this really is 1446? What if you’ve gone back in time?
Abi slammed the book shut and pushed it away as if it was a viper. She leaned back in her chair, thoughts suddenly whirling, pulse hammering in her ears.
No. Absolutely no way. That wasnotit. There must be some other explanation.
“Abigail?” Reid said, giving her a concerned look. “Is something wrong?”
He looked every inch the medieval Highland warrior. His linen shirt was not something you could buy in any shop that Abi knew of and the plaid he wore swathed across his body was like nothing she’d ever seen in real life. And the weapons? What kind of modern man wore a dagger strapped to his waist like it was an everyday occurrence and carried a huge sword that could probably take a man’s head off?
And then there was the room she sat in. Tapestries covering the bare walls. Sconces full of candles. Not a plug socket or a light switch in sight.
Oh god. Oh no, no, no.
She leaned forward with her elbows resting on the desk, pressing her forehead into her hands. She felt Reid’s big hand settle on her shoulder.
“Abigail,” his deep voice echoed with concern. “What is it? Are ye unwell?”
“Reid,” she choked out. “What year is this?”
He frowned. “It’s the tenth year of the reign of King James, the second of his name.”
“But what is that in Anno Domini?”
The look he gave her suggested he wondered if she was slightly cracked but he answered her anyway. “It’s the Year of Our Lord 1446.”
The words were like a punch to Abi’s gut. All the breath rushed out of her and she suddenly felt like she was falling, falling, falling. She clutched the arms of the chair and surged to her feet.
“I need to go,” she murmured. “I’m not feeling well.”
She took two steps but her knees buckled. Reid was off the stool in a flash. He caught her before she could hit the floor and then she was dimly aware of him lifting her and being carried through the cool corridors of the castle back to her room.
Soft sheets suddenly covered her and a hand pressed against her forehead.
“What’s wrong with her, my lord?” asked an anxious voice. Thomas?
“She’s a little overwrought, that’s all,” Reid’s deeper voice answered. “She’s had a challenging few days. What woman wouldnae swoon at what she’s endured? I’m sure she will be fine after some sleep.”
She heard the door closing.
No!she thought.I don’t want to sleep! I need to get out of here!
She struggled, trying to get up, but her limbs refused to obey her. She was suddenly tired. So tired. No matter how hard she fought, sleep reached up and pulled her under.
