Chloe melted a little against him as she met his gaze. The way he looked at her told her he meant every word.
But she had trusted a man before. She had trusted Bruce. He had betrayed her. He had attacked her.
“Ye have my word,” he added, his voice low and rumbling and delicious.
She said nothing as they rode toward the castle and the sun rose higher into the sky. The castle was nestled among a rugged and weathered landscape. The wind was cold and sharp with a hint of dampness in it. It reminded her of Edinburgh on a brisk fall day and she wondered where—no, when—she had landed.
It was clear she was no longer in Edinburgh. In the year she had lived there, she had ventured out of the city only once and that was to visit Inverness.
Now, she was certain she was in the Highlands. And she was no longer in her own time. The historian in her wanted to pause and take in all the sights, the sounds, the everything. The woman in her, though, wanted to remain nestled in her savior’s arms.
They trotted through the portcullis and halted behind the thick, tall curtain wall. Before her was the most magnificent castle she had ever seen. Not that she had seen many. She hadn’t. It sat on a cliff with the azure sea glistening in the morning sun behind it. The castle itself was a tall, square building of at least three stories with rectangular windows and two chimneys rising up on either side like bookends.
Two young boys ran out to greet them as the older man stepped down out of his saddle. He handed the reins off to one of the boys. The second man did the same. As he handed off his reins to the boy, he turned to the two of them.
Her savior had come to a halt as the second man headed toward them.
“This here is Duncan,” her savior said. “He’ll help ye down.”
She cut him a glance and he gave her a wink and a nod of encouragement. Duncan held his arms up to her. She slid out of the saddle. He caught her and helped steady her feet as her savior dismounted. The older man made his way over to them, eyes the color of a wintery morning piercing her.
Eyes that reminded her of her older sister, Brianna.
He had a shock of red hair, graying at the temples.
But that shock of red hair reminded her of her fraternal twin sister, Evie.
If she were truly in the past, she had the strangest feeling she was looking into the face of one of her ancestors. That couldn’t be right. Could it?
His face was covered in a faded red beard. There were crinkles at the corners his eyes. He assessed her as he approached.
“Well? Have ye learned who she is?” the older man asked, his hands fisted on his hips.
Her savior moved closer to her, the warmth of his big body radiating over her as he gazed down at her. His sea-greeneyes softened. She moved closer to absorb his warmth. Her hand slipped into his. Surprise flickered through his gaze for a moment, then it was replaced by delight.
“What’s yer name, lassie?”
“Chloe,” she said, and her voice was a little stronger this time.
“Well, Chloe, this is Angus Sinclair, laird of this castle.”
Upon hearing the man’s full name, she sucked in a sharp breath. “Sinclair? You’re…”
Her stomach lurched and her knees gave out, her hand slipping from her savior’s. The next thing she knew, she was crumpling to the ground as blackness overtook her.
CHAPTER 8
Malcolm saw her eyes flutter closed moments before she fainted. He managed to catch her, scooping her into his arms and holding her close to him. It was the second time she had ended up in his arms. He was starting to enjoy it far too much.
“We best get her inside,” Angus said.
He and Duncan followed him into the keep where Lady Fiona paced the length of the great hall, her hands clasped in front of her. When they entered, she halted, the worry on her face collapsing into relief.
“Angus Sinclair, where have ye been?” she demanded of her husband. “I was worried all night and now ye turn up—oh! Who’s this?” She halted her tirade when she spotted the lass in Malcolm’s arms. She hurried over and peered down at her. “Where did she come from?”
Malcolm wasn’t sure how to answer. He had seen the flash of light, the rip in space and time with his own eyes. But explaining it? That would be difficult. Thankfully, Angus and Duncan had witnessed the event, too.
“She’s from the future,” Duncan exclaimed, his eyes bright with excitement.
