“You have to help me,” I whispered. “I need to get home.”
My stomach chose that moment to growl. Loud and insistent, the sound echoed through the quiet room.
Albie smiled. “Why don’t we get you something to eat? I find that even the most vexing problems are easier to solve over a good meal.”
Chapter
Six
ALBIE
Portia sat across from me at the Great Hall’s long oak table. She gripped her chair’s armrests as she gazed at the beamed ceiling and woven tapestries with obvious interest. Tavish had disappeared to the kitchen thirty minutes ago, leaving me to study our mate while she studied our castle.
I wasn’t complaining. Even in her strange clothes, she was the most beautiful female I’d ever seen. Her black hair was like a midnight river, the strands throwing off glints of deep purple every time she moved. And the gods hadn’t stopped there when they created her.
No, they’d given her eyes like the rarest emeralds, breasts that snagged my attention over and over, and a face that belonged in the Italian museums Tavish and I had visited.
She pulled her gaze from a tapestry and caught me staring.
A gentleman would have looked away. But my manners deserted me in the face of her beauty.
“You believe me?” she asked.
“Aye,” I said without hesitation.
“Why?”
I leaned my arms on the table. “You’re not the first to have traveled through time, lass. I’ve read accounts dating backcenturies. The auld stones are portals. That’s ancient, dangerous magic, and the kind best left alone. Most people who pass through them don’t survive the journey.”
She paled.
“Albie is a scholar,” Tavish said, entering the Hall with three plates balanced in his arms. One was tucked in the crook of his elbow, a feat he accomplished by being as big as a horse. He set a plate heaped with diced potatoes, herbs, and a golden omelet in front of me.
I smiled up at him. “Thank you, love.”
He grunted as he slid a plate in front of Portia. “Eat while it’s hot,” he told her.
Her stomach growled, and I turned my smile back to her. “Tavish is an excellent chef.”
He crossed to the sideboard and poured water from the pitcher into three of the crystal glasses I’d brought back from France. “Have to be around here,” he said under his breath.
I caught Portia’s eye. “He means I’m terrible at cooking.”
Tavish delivered the water, then winked at me as he sat at the head of the table. “Don’t fash yourself, darling. You’re plenty good at other things.”
My cheeks heated. Snatching my fork from the table, I dug into my omelet. But I couldn’t ignore the ache building in my groin. Gods, I was hard as stone just sitting near Portia.
Princess Portia, I mentally corrected. The gods hadn’t just blessed Tavish and me with a stunning female. They’d given us royalty. The daughter of our king.
Who was finally free of the fire. In the future, of course. And our females were free of the Curse.
Curiosity swarmed me, a thousand questions buzzing like bees in my head.
Tavish shoveled food in his mouth, seemingly in no hurry to delve into the revelations Portia had dumped in our laps.
She was far daintier than Tavish as she picked up her fork and took a moment to examine the silver before cutting into her eggs.
I bit my tongue, staving off my questions until she’d had a chance to eat. She took a tentative bite, then widened her eyes as she released a soft moan.
