“As I have, Malcolm,” Christiana agreed, her feet finally touching the ground.
As with other family reunions he had witnessed, Chase felt the familiar twinge of envy nipping at his heart as he watched Christiana wrap her arms joyously around the stranger’s neck.
“And these men who accompany you, we’ve them to thank for your liberation, have we no?” Malcolm smiled broadly, opening his arms wide. “Introduce us to yer champions that we might welcome them into our home, as well.”
“Halldor O’Donar, a fine champion indeed, and my friend.” Christiana beamed up at the man. “These are my brothers, Malcolm and Patrick, and Malcolm’s brave and beautiful lady, Danielle, and, this is my friend Elesyria.”
“Syrie,” the little redhead and Patrick corrected at the same time.
“Syrie,” Christiana repeated with a lift of her brows before turning toward Chase. “And this is Chase Noble.”
She held out her hand to him and he dismounted to stand at her side. He had no choice. He couldn’t resist the sparkle in her eyes when she smiled at him that way.
“I must tell you all, Chase is far more than champion to me.” She entwined her fingers with his. “He is the love of my heart.”
She gazed up at him and his heart was full. He had no reason to envy anyone. All he needed stood before him, holding his hand.
“As you are mine,” he answered quietly.
“In that case”—Malcolm stepped closer, slapping a hand to his back—“looks to me as though we’ll soon be welcoming a new brother into the family.”
“If he kens what’s good for him,” Patrick added from his spot near the stairs.
Chase knew what was good for him. He had her hand tightly clasped within his own right now.
“Enough of this lollygagging around out in the cold.” Malcolm’s wife tightened her cloak around her and started up the stairs. “Let’s get you all inside and warmed up, and then you can tell us all about what’s happened that allowed you to come home to us.”
“And what is yet to come,” Hall added as he passed by.
True. Chase pulled Christiana close under the shelter of his arm and started up the stairs behind Hall. Though they’d reached their destination, their journey was far from over.
They followed their hosts into the main level and up a second set of stairs, entering a room that looked more like a living room from his own time than one that belonged here.
Three long cushion-covered benches with backs faced one another in front of a huge fireplace, with a low round table between them.
“Make yerselves comfortable on a so-fa.” Malcolm pronounced the word as if it were some foreign object.
From the looks passing between Christiana and Hall, Chase could only surmise it was.
Minutes later, Danielle swept into the room accompanied by a servant, who handed Chase a mug of what turned out to be hot apple cider, just before offering him a tray filled with...
“Cookies?” Chase swiveled his head from the tray in front of him to Malcolm’s wife.
“Yes, they are,” she confirmed. “My very own recipe. And considering all the ingredients I didn’t have to work with, I think they turned out pretty great.”
“She comes from your time,” Syrie offered in a low voice as she sat down next to him. “I am quite relieved to see you here at last. You certainly took your time.”
“Little thanks to you.” Patrick leaned past her to pick up one of the mugs from the center table.
If this was the woman Christiana had told him about, his presence here was almostentirelythanks to her. “You’re the Elf, right?”
Christiana’s elbow to Chase’s ribs coincided perfectly with Patrick choking on his drink.
“Faerie,” Syrie corrected, even as she pounded her hand on Patrick’s back. “Lift your arms and lean over. You’ll catch your breath. Not that you deserve to.”
“Has Bridget yet returned?” Hall’s question drew attention to where he stood by the fireplace.
“Bridget MacCulloch? The lass has been missing for weeks. You have knowledge of where she is?” Malcolm leaned forward in his seat.
