She had thought to spare the boy the truth, but he had the right to know. “Teague dies in December of this year. I remember reading about his execution while researching the history of Éirich for a tour. We have to leave here as soon as we can. I dinna ken if we will be safe after that.”
Horror, then disgust, played across his features. “We canna leave here. We have to save him like he saved us.” He rose to his feet and glowered at her. “How could ye be so heartless?”
“I am not being heartless.” Aye, she was, and she hated herself for it. But Robbie’s safety came first. “I dinna ken if it is even possible to change history.”
His unforgiving glare hardened even more.
The lad needed to understand the risks. What chaos might they trigger if they tried to change what had already happened in the history books? Could they even change it?
She reached out to him, but he jerked away. “Robbie, dinna be that way. What if it is his destiny? What if his death must happen so something else, something good, will come of it? Everything is connected. Ye know that.”
“Since it is not a disease, we might could prevent it. Dinna ye dare say we canna even try. We traveled back in time, didn’t we? Just our being here changes history. Think about that. We have to take the chance. His life is at stake. Maybethatis why we are here. To save him. Did ye even think of that?” He scowled at her, angrier than she had ever seen him. “Since when do ye turn yer back on someone in need? Since when do ye turn a blind eye to something ye could change for the better?”
“Since we landed in this godforsaken century, and I dinna ken how to protect ye!” A sob escaped her before she could stop it. “I love ye, Robbie. Ye are my precious family. The son I never had. Yet how can I keep ye safe here?”
“No matter the timeline, nothing is guaranteed, Mi. Not safety. Good health. Nothing.” His bottom lip quivered. “Not even enough time with those we love with all our might is guaranteed.” He sniffed and lifted his chin, revealing a battle against tears. “Mama and Da always told me if we live in fear, we dinna live at all.”
She bowed her head and rubbed her tired, gritty eyes. How could she argue with any of that? A sad, huffing laugh escaped her. “How can ye be so wise at only fifteen?”
“I am pure dead brilliant. Remember?”
“I do at that.” With the help of the wall, she pushed herself up to her feet. “The British catch him in late November. Near Stirling, I think.”
“And kill him in December?” Robbie led the way, moving slowly as he took in everything she said.
“Aye. Hanged, drawn, and quartered on December twelfth. For aiding in trying to revive the Jacobite cause.” The rumbling of conversations and people moving around the great hall filtered up into the stairwell. “We are nearly there. We shouldna speak of it anymore until we are alone in our rooms.”
“I will think on it at supper.” With a decisive nod, he stepped aside as they reached the main floor.
“I had begun to think the two of ye decided to stay in yer rooms,” a familiar, deep voice said.
Mila clapped a hand to her chest and whirled to find Teague standing entirely too close to the stairwell archway. “Ye startled me!” Heaven help her and Robbie both if he’d overheard anything.
His teasing, lopsided smile eased her mind and made her heart flutter like it hadn’t in a long while. “Why, Lady Mila. I believe that smacks of a guilty conscience.”
“Not at all,” she argued. “Merely a sense of self-preservation.” She couldn’t help but notice he had changed out of his dusty clothes into a long, dark fitted jacket that perfectly displayed the impressive width of his shoulders and the trimness of his waist. Belted kilt. Tall black boots cleaned of every speck of mud. Long, dark hair combed until it shone in the candlelight, secured at his nape. The chieftain cut quite a handsome figure, indeed.
Robbie cleared his throat and bumped against her. “Ye are staring, Mi.”
Teague’s rumbling laugh sent a rush of heat to her cheeks. “Ye will pay for that, lad,” he said. “Never embarrass a lady.”
“I am not embarrassed.” She rested a hand on Robbie’s shoulder and squeezed it hard while fanning herself with the other. “I am just a little over-warm.”
“We have a bit of time yet before Greta sends out supper to the tables.” Teague offered his arm. “We could step out to the garden and take some air if ye like. The rain has stopped.”
“That would be nice.” She managed a polite smile. Actually, that would be uncomfortably stressful, but how could she refuse? She took his arm, then turned to Robbie, counting on him to save her. “Ye will come too, aye?”
He wrinkled his nose. “I will not.” He tipped his head toward Calder and Bhric idling beside a table with another amiable-looking man and young lad. “I think I’ll go visit with them.”
“Fine idea,” Teague said. “Iagan, the man there beside Bhric, would like to introduce ye to his boy, Auley.” He bent closer, as though wishing to keep their conversation private. In a low voice, he continued, “The lad struggles something fierce when it comes to speaking. ’Tis as though the words dinna wish to come out. He has endured a lion’s share of cruelty and teasing because of it.” He shook his head. “Before they swore fealty to our clan, he suffered greatly. They have had a better way of it since coming here. Auley can neither read nor write, nor do sums either. Even though many have tried to teach him.” Teague eyed Robbie with a knowing smile. “Would ye be willing to help him? He doesna have any friends, and his da worries after him.”
Robbie studied the boy across the way, then slid a dubious look back at Teague. “I know what ye are doing, aye?”
“I would never take ye for a fool, lad.” Teague slanted a dark brow higher. “But the fact remains Auley needs yer help. Are ye willing?”
“I will help him. I never turn my back on someone in need.” The boy fixed a hard glare on Mila that she immediately understood.
She glowered back at him, narrowing her eyes just enough to fire back. She had already agreed to try to save Teague, but it would take time and planning. Robbie needed to realize that.
