Derek and Finley began dragging her away. She again called out to Andrew but he was walking away, ignoring her completely.
“Help me get her to the top of the tower,” Derek said. “She’ll not escape there.”
“But that part’s not finished. If she should escape…”
“If she plans to escape that way, it’ll be by growing wings.”
Beth tried once more to break free but more men appeared. She could only struggle as they dragged her kicking and screaming across the courtyard and into the keep. She fought them all the way up the stairs but it was no use. They went past the room she’d been in before and still they were going up.
At last they reached the top. She was pushed through a doorway into a half built room that was open to the elements, the wind blowing into it from two open sides. It was barely a room at all, lacking a roof and most of the walls. As Derek pulled the door closed, she hammered her fists upon it, demanding to be let out.
She was trapped once more and she no longer even had the comfort of thinking it was a game. It was real. She was really in 1190 and, like he’d said, unless she learned to fly, there was nothing she could do until someone came and let her out.
Once they did, she vowed never to let any of them near her again. She would run out of the castle gates and back to the hall. She held onto that idea like her mom would grip the locket when she was afraid.
If coming out of the hall had brought her back in time then it stood to reason that going back inside would return her to the present. She’d get back to her mom and have the chance to tell her just what Andrew MacIntyre was really like. He was a brute and she wanted nothing at all to do with him.
His smoldering eyes, his taut muscles, those broad shoulders that would make her feel so safe if he wrapped her in his arms. No, she didn’t want anything to do with any of those things at all. Definitely not.
