sunkissed golden skin strode to meet them, dropping a kiss on the tiny woman’s head. She pulled him away, and he leaned down to listen to what she animatedly told him, both of them glancing at Lizzie a few times.
Horses were ordered, and the man strapped on a pistol along with his sword. Lizzie didn’t care if they didn’t trust her as long as they went with her. In fact, it would be in her best interest if more than just this one man came with them.
“I’m so grateful for your help,” she said, stepping forward and interrupting their secretive little chat. “But the man who is hurt is quite big. And unconscious.”
They exchanged looks and after a moment, the man sent someone to fetch the physician and called for a burly guard to go with them. Lizzie faltered on her first attempt to mount the horse. The run to the castle, the days of little sleep and less food, and all the constant fear, was catching up with her, making it difficult to concentrate or stay upright. She clung to the saddle and through some miracle managed to guide them back to the clearing.
The group from the castle stayed behind her and she had a sinking feeling she’d made the wrong decision when she reined in her horse and slid to the ground. She hurried back to Quinn. If they were all about to be slaughtered by the Glens, she want to be holding onto him when it happened.
Oliver had him propped up against a tree and he was awake, but his face was pale and drawn. When she knelt at his side, he glanced weakly at her, giving her a smile. She turned around to face everyone, belligerently prepared to die.
“I knew it!” the woman squealed, dropping down beside him and grabbing his hand. “Quinn Ferguson, as I live and breathe. What have ye got yourself into this time?”
Quinn turned to her and laughed, which turned into a cough. “Bella Glen, ye wee harridan. I canna believe it.” Lizzie watched him bring the woman’s hand to his lips and press a kiss to it. Her heart raced with confusion and jealousy. “When is the babe due? Ye hardly show. Have we not been gone at all?”
“Ye simpleton, ye’ve been gone seven years. We have three children now, two lads and a wee lass.”
Quinn breathed out a quiet swear word before covering his mouth in dismay. Now the blond man dismounted and strode over, leaning down to look at Quinn’s shoulder. Quinn reached up and took his hand in a brief grip before dropping his arm back to his side.
“Pietro. It’s wonderful to see ye, but we werena supposed to be here.”
“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time ye screwed up, aye?” He smiled at Quinn and motioned for the physician to come over. “We’ll get this scratch fixed up in no time. And it’s so verra good to see ye, too.” The man called Pietro turned to Lizzie and smiled, pulling her out of earshot of the others. “Bella swears ye are from another time, and she likes to be right. Ye can tell me true, lass, for I understand all too well.”
“How did she know?” Lizzie asked.
Bella poked her head under Pietro’s arm much the same as the young boy had done to her earlier. “When ye’re married to someone from the distant future, ye tend to notice such things.”
Lizzie looked at Pietro again, struggling to recognize what Bella might be seeing. “You?” she asked.
He nodded. “Aye. She’s verra discerning. I’m certain ye’ve been fooling everyone else just fine.”
Lizzie was more confused than ever, but at least Quinn was getting the help he needed. She hoped so, anyway, not sure she wasn’t hallucinating all this. Oliver walked over and took her arm.
“Come sit down, Miss Burnet,” he said, nodding politely to Bella and Pietro before leading her away.
She followed Oliver and sat down in a patch of moss, which looked soft and pillowy but was hard, cold, and slightly damp. She was too tired to move. Oliver sat next to her and she pointed out Bella and Pietro, explaining to him that they knew, and weren’t at all
Horses were ordered, and the man strapped on a pistol along with his sword. Lizzie didn’t care if they didn’t trust her as long as they went with her. In fact, it would be in her best interest if more than just this one man came with them.
“I’m so grateful for your help,” she said, stepping forward and interrupting their secretive little chat. “But the man who is hurt is quite big. And unconscious.”
They exchanged looks and after a moment, the man sent someone to fetch the physician and called for a burly guard to go with them. Lizzie faltered on her first attempt to mount the horse. The run to the castle, the days of little sleep and less food, and all the constant fear, was catching up with her, making it difficult to concentrate or stay upright. She clung to the saddle and through some miracle managed to guide them back to the clearing.
The group from the castle stayed behind her and she had a sinking feeling she’d made the wrong decision when she reined in her horse and slid to the ground. She hurried back to Quinn. If they were all about to be slaughtered by the Glens, she want to be holding onto him when it happened.
Oliver had him propped up against a tree and he was awake, but his face was pale and drawn. When she knelt at his side, he glanced weakly at her, giving her a smile. She turned around to face everyone, belligerently prepared to die.
“I knew it!” the woman squealed, dropping down beside him and grabbing his hand. “Quinn Ferguson, as I live and breathe. What have ye got yourself into this time?”
Quinn turned to her and laughed, which turned into a cough. “Bella Glen, ye wee harridan. I canna believe it.” Lizzie watched him bring the woman’s hand to his lips and press a kiss to it. Her heart raced with confusion and jealousy. “When is the babe due? Ye hardly show. Have we not been gone at all?”
“Ye simpleton, ye’ve been gone seven years. We have three children now, two lads and a wee lass.”
Quinn breathed out a quiet swear word before covering his mouth in dismay. Now the blond man dismounted and strode over, leaning down to look at Quinn’s shoulder. Quinn reached up and took his hand in a brief grip before dropping his arm back to his side.
“Pietro. It’s wonderful to see ye, but we werena supposed to be here.”
“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time ye screwed up, aye?” He smiled at Quinn and motioned for the physician to come over. “We’ll get this scratch fixed up in no time. And it’s so verra good to see ye, too.” The man called Pietro turned to Lizzie and smiled, pulling her out of earshot of the others. “Bella swears ye are from another time, and she likes to be right. Ye can tell me true, lass, for I understand all too well.”
“How did she know?” Lizzie asked.
Bella poked her head under Pietro’s arm much the same as the young boy had done to her earlier. “When ye’re married to someone from the distant future, ye tend to notice such things.”
Lizzie looked at Pietro again, struggling to recognize what Bella might be seeing. “You?” she asked.
He nodded. “Aye. She’s verra discerning. I’m certain ye’ve been fooling everyone else just fine.”
Lizzie was more confused than ever, but at least Quinn was getting the help he needed. She hoped so, anyway, not sure she wasn’t hallucinating all this. Oliver walked over and took her arm.
“Come sit down, Miss Burnet,” he said, nodding politely to Bella and Pietro before leading her away.
She followed Oliver and sat down in a patch of moss, which looked soft and pillowy but was hard, cold, and slightly damp. She was too tired to move. Oliver sat next to her and she pointed out Bella and Pietro, explaining to him that they knew, and weren’t at all
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