That didn’t matter. What mattered was she had finally stood up for herself. She could have let Quinn send her home but she didn’t. She wasn’t the same person who’d come back in time. She’d changed. She could only hope she’d changed enough to get into a castle full of bloodthirsty highlanders who hated the English.
Praying she wasn’t too late, she breathed a sigh of relief when a castle finally came into view. “Is that it?” she asked as the horse slowed to a canter.
The beast seemed to nod its head, coming to a halt by the gates. Two guards were standing there looking in amazement at her.
“What?” she asked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You’re on Quinn’s horse. He doesn’t let anyone else ride him. Ever.”
Sliding down to the ground she looked up at the beast which was already turning and heading back the way she came. “Thank you,” she called after it before turning to the guards. “Is he here?”
“Who? The druid? He went out late last night.”
“No, not Quinn. Tavish. Please, tell me he’s here.”
“Inside. Is he expecting you?”
“No, but-”
“Then we can’t let you in, not with English scouts so nearby. You sound a wee bit English in fact. Hold it there.”
“No,” she snapped, darting between the two of them and sprinting into the courtyard, ignoring their yelled curses after her.
“Stop her!”
“Oi!”
She continued running, looking around her at the sea of people, none of them friendly. Where was he?
“Tavish,” she yelled. “Have you seen Tavish?” She grabbed the nearest person by the collar. “Where is he?”
The two guards had caught up and were just reaching for her when a voice boomed out, “What’s all this blether?”
Everyone froze. Even Lindsey turned to the source of the voice, finding herself looking into the eyes of a man in his mid-fifties, as wide as he was tall, wrapped in thick furs despite the warmth of the summer sun.
“An intruder,” one of the guards said, grabbing hold of Lindsey by the arm.
The other also latched himself onto her. “We think she’s an English spy.”
“I’m no spy,” Lindsey replied, fighting to free herself. “I need to see Tavish.”
The enormous man beckoned her over. The guards lifted her off her feet and carried her squirming form over to him. He looked down at her without smiling. “What do you want with Tavish Sinclair?”
“I need to speak to him. Please, it won’t take a moment. I beg you.”
The man again examined her. “You ken, I’ve been laird here for thirty-six years and I’ve only once before seen one with eyes as honest as yours.” His voice came down as he spoke until he sounded almost warm. “You’ll find him in the infirmary.”
She followed his pointing finger as the guards slowly relaxed their grip. As soon as she was free, she ran over to the infirmary, pushing the door open before stopping dead.
There he was, leaning over a bed, administering drops of something into the mouth of an elderly man who had his eyes closed.
There was something around the old man’s neck. A locket. “Is that-?”
Tavish turned to look at her. “The laird gave my mother’s back to me. Thought it might help him recover.” He got to his feet slowly. “You’re looking well.”
“So are you.” Lindsey’s heart pounded as Tavish marched over to her, wondering what he was about to say, whether he was going to send her away as she’d done to him.
Before she knew what was happening, he put his hands on her cheeks and kissed her. This time she didn’t pull away.
