“Well that’s great,” Tabby said. “You always wanted to cook medieval style. Now you get the chance.”
“You’re not mad at me for saying yes?”
“I wanted you to get a job, Daisy. Now you’ve got the perfect one. Why would I be mad?”
“Because I won’t be here with you.”
“You can come visit whenever you like.”
“I’m sorry,” Daisy said, starting to cry.
“What for?” Tabby asked, putting an arm around her. “What have you got to be sorry for?”
“For not believing you. I thought it was all rubbish, all that stuff you told me about time travel and keys and falling in love and I’m sorry. You were right.”
Tabby kissed her forehead. “All that matters is you’re happy.” She looked over to Jock. “Will you make her happy?”
“I will do everything in my power for the rest of my life to make her happy.”
“That’s good enough for me. Now you two better be off. The king will be waiting by the sounds of it.” Tabby stood up, shaking Jock by the hand and then throwing her arms around him. “I don’t see the attraction,” she said, stepping back. “Far too tall for me.”
The three of them walked into the hallway together. Daisy slid the key into the lock in the front door, turning to say a final goodbye. Jock stood by her side and waited until they were done.
Once the last embrace had been had, she unlocked the door and stepped through. He followed, nodding to Tabby as the door closed again.
“Look after her,” Tabby said, tossing a pen to Jock before the door was shut and she was gone.
Daisy turned to look at Jock. “How long do you think we were gone?”
He didn’t answer, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her to him. He leaned down, needing to kiss her. The world could wait.
At that moment a horn blew out in the courtyard.
“What was that?” she asked, glancing toward the window.
“The king’s horn,” he replied. “Are you ready?”
She nodded, squeezing his arm. “As I’ll ever be.”
He led the way downstairs to the great hall. The king and his guards had taken the top table on the dais. MacGregor men sat at the other tables.
It was as if the battle had never happened though many of the men bore signs of injuries, cuts that had only just healed, swollen eyes and chins aplenty. Daisy slipped into a gap at one of the lower tables, smiling at Jock as he went by.
The laird took the empty space beside the king just in time for Robin to be brought in. The financier looked pale after his night in the dungeon though his eyes still flashed in defiance.
He walked proudly, shoulders back, stopping only when the guards yanked him back. He looked like he’d been about to walk straight up to the top table to try and strangle Jock.
The guards flanked him as he stood before the king, his gaze fixed on the laird, not the king.
“This is a deed of assignation,” the king said, holding a piece of parchment into the air. “It has been put to me that you forged the laird’s signature and by means of dubious poisons did tempt Eddard MacGregor to sign over rights to the clans funds-”
“Get to the point,” Robin snapped. “I haven’t all day.”
“Very well,” the king replied. “Do you confess to duping Eddard MacGregor into signing this assignation?”
“He signed willingly.”
“Bring in Eddard.”
