“I am truly sorry. ’Twas an accident, I assure you.” He moved to step forward, but stopped as Archie held him in place.
“This is not a verra good start for a wedded union,” the older man said.
“What?” She jerked her gaze to her host. “What union? What wedding?”
“Isobell, did you not inform Emily what is required of her?”
“I had nary a chance to explain the intrigues of this time before you summoned us to your side, husband.”
Did they expect…
“Whoa. I’m not marrying anyone. Especially not him.” Emily couldn’t keep her lips from curling into a scowl. He’d shot at her as if she were a hunted animal, for God’s sake. “You can send me and Tevin back to Anderson Creek.Right?”
“’Tis not as easy as you might think.” Isobell chewed on her bottom lip and exchanged a long glance with her husband. “The magic of theSithichean Sluaighonly works on full moons—sometimes not even then—unless one of the Fae escorts a soul through.”
“Which seems unlikely,” Archie added. “Perhaps you should sit, lass, and hear what we have to say.” He grasped her elbow and guided her to the chair next to the one the idiot who’d shot her had vacated. “Both of you should sit.”
As she plopped onto the offered chair, the jerk dropped back into the seat to her right. His proximity was too close. The warmth of his presence pressed on her, making her jittery.
“I truly didn’t mean to shoot at you,” he said. “’Twas a pixie who interrupted my shot. Caused the arrow to release.”
“Pixie? Are you for real?” He had to be nuts.
“Aye. A pixie.” He held his hands about five inches apart. “A wee lass with wings.”
“You expect me to believe a miniature woman with wings exists?”
“Several, to be sure,” he added with a firm nod.
“And caused you to shoot me?” She tilted her head and frowned up at him.
His hair fell into his face with his vigorous nod, covering the ruddy color infusing his cheeks. She’d caught the deep blush before he turned away. She raised a hand to her mouth to hide an unexpected smile.
The guy was just so damn cute. Crazy. But cute.
Archibald dragged a chair over for Isobell, and the woman sat to Emily’s left. “He speaks the truth,” she said. “The wee creatures are known as the Pixie Clan.”
Emily blinked. “You’ve seen them?”
“Nae.” Isobell reached up and clasped her husband’s hand, which rested on her shoulder.
The man sighed heavily. “You must understand, Emily, Scotland is rife with magic and those who wield its power. Asyour Tevin tells the tale, the pixies have taken an interest in you and the lad.”
“He’s a little boy. He makes up stories.” She hastened a glance at the guy at her side.Sometimes, so did big boys.
“Not this time,” Archie said.
Emily shook her head. “Even if I believed pixies existed—which I don’t—why would they find me interesting enough to bother with? I lead a rather dull, quiet life in Anderson Creek. I spend my time working in the restaurant at the inn and taking care of the children. I ride my horse.”And mourn Kim’s death.
Archie ran a hand through his thick chestnut hair. “The pixies escorted you back in time for a purpose.”
“Nefarious, I’m sure.” She snorted. Could she really believe any of this bullshit?
“I wouldn’t believe in them either if I had not seen them with my own eyes,” Gregor said.
Emily jerked her gaze to the bow-wielding maniac. She needed to remember he’d shot at her. “Pixies?”
“Aye.” He nodded. His honest gaze held hers. He believed he told the truth.
