Reckoning (Book 4 of Lost Highlander series) (19 page)

They went a short distance into the woods. Lachlan stopped arbitrarily at a small clearing and squatted down, pulling out his herbs and a knife.

“I hope it works for me,” she said. The herbal spell hadn’t worked for Piper the first time she tried it, and Evelyn feared she’d be forced to stay behind.

Lachlan concentrated on grinding the dried plants. “I believe ye shall have no troubles,” he said, then leaned back on his heels to look at her. “I do believe that it is tied to the land, but I also think it’s something that one gets better at, much like swordplay. Ye dinna want to know how many times I failed before I succeeded.”

Evelyn digested this information, always eager to learn as much as she could. “Do you think that’s all there is to it? Practice?”

 He shrugged and continued grinding. “Aye, it takes practice to continue and to have any control over it, but I dinna have a clue what allowed it in the first place. Magic surely, but is it only the land, bloodlines, a combination? We are much alike in that we were both unwitting in our first time to travel.”

Evelyn nodded, remembering waking up in the barn in 1729, completely clueless as to how it had happened. “Well, I’m glad you’re good at it now,” she said.

He grinned at her cheekily. “I am quite good at it now,” he agreed. “Especially with the letter ye brought to act as a guide for the time. I’ll hold onto that, and do the spell. Ye must focus all your thoughts on Piper.”

Evelyn slipped the beaded bracelet she’d taken from Piper’s room onto her wrist, and hoped it would help get them to the time where she currently was. Lachlan didn’t think it would hurt to have as many guides as possible.

With her breath growing short and her heart skipping beats all over the place, Lachlan neatly sliced his arm over the herbs, then pricked her finger. She ignored his apologetic look and squeezed a few drops over the pile. When he nodded that it was time, she locked arms with him and closed her eyes, listening to the strange words he spoke and trying not to throw up.

She opened her eyes to see a shrub inches from her face, and hear birds chittering above her head. With Lachlan no longer firmly at her side, she rolled over and darted to her feet, staggering under a sudden onslaught of dizziness. A strong hand clamped around her wrist to steady her.

“We’ve arrived, lass,” he said.

She instantly relaxed at his voice, then panicked for a moment at his words. They’d made it.

“Are you sure?” she asked. Not having paid too much attention to her surroundings when they’d hiked in, she didn’t notice if anything was really different.

“Fairly sure,” he said. “Shall we go?” He pulled at her arm, then looked apologetic again. “Do ye need a moment to recover? I forget it can be a difficult transition at first.”

She took stock of herself, and except for the remaining bit of dizziness, felt fine. She was as impatient as him to find Piper. “I’m fine. We should find the mill. That’s where John and Rose used to live the first time she went back. Maybe they still do.”

Lachlan looked around and headed assuredly toward the river. She hurried after him, not daring to think too far ahead. She was surprised at the mill, and wondered what had happened to it, since it was little more than a foundation in the present day. It looked as picturesque as a postcard, and the cottage a short way down river from it was just as charming.

Lachlan stopped and made the decision to head toward the house. “Ye best stay back,” he suggested, patting the knife at his belt.

He strode to the door and knocked while she waited at the edge of the yard, twisting her apron in her hands and imagining the worst.

When no one answered his pounding, he circled the house, looking in the windows, then motioned for her to join him. “No one is home,” he said needlessly. “To the mill?”

He took off toward the mill without waiting for her answer and she tried to keep up, her confidence taking a dive to see how anxious he was. When they found out neither Piper nor Rose were at the mill, disappointment gnawed at her. It wasn’t going to be a quick recon mission after all. Lachlan’s face showed he was equally disheartened, but he quickly regained his resolve.

“The village?” she asked.

They followed the river until they came to the town road. She saw the church spire at the top of the high street, and could already tell how different things were from how she knew them. It was midafternoon and the place would be bustling with people going about their daily business.

She knew the clothes Padma brought them from the museum were accurate, but she didn’t want to have to interact with people from this time. Foolishly counting on Piper being at the mill, she hadn’t wanted to waste time putting her hair up in an authentic style and it was in a plain modern ponytail. She had her running shoes on, hidden beneath her gown when she stood, but if she had to sit, someone might catch a glimpse of them. She was certain her face screamed twenty-first century. Everything about her was wrong.

“Ye’ll do fine,” he said, sensing her unease. “I am no’ from this time either. I dinna think people notice as much as we fear. Just keep your eyes downcast and dinna speak unless ye must.” When she groaned, he laughed shortly. “I verra much like your time better as well.”

She was pleased to hear that, hoping he’d choose to stay in their time instead of convincing Piper to return to his time with him. She reminded herself they had to find Piper first, and to stop putting the cart before the horse.

They made their way up the street to the inn. Lachlan thought it would be a good idea to have accommodations in case they needed to continue their search the next day. Not wanting to spend the night in the woods, Evelyn agreed and waited in the public area while he haggled with the innkeeper for two rooms.

The dining area was large, with a bar that ran the length of one wall. There were about a dozen people either sitting at tables eating a meal, or gathered around the bar with drinks in their hands. Another group of men stood in a huddle by the fireplace, talking to each other and laughing. Evelyn slunk to the corner of the room and stood there, trying to be invisible. A barmaid asked her if she’d like anything and she said no, afraid to even add a thank you and be targeted for her strange accent.

A man passed her, giving her a sidelong look as he did, then turned around and looked her over more closely. Dear lord, was he going to hit on her? Her first instinct was to run, but she forced herself to keep her eyes down, watching him with her peripheral vision, willing Lachlan to return before he decided to strike up a conversation. The man was tall, almost as tall as Lachlan, but not as massive, and not nearly as threatening looking.

Calm down, she ordered herself, accidentally glancing at him. Terrifyingly, he was staring straight at her, and their eyes met before she could assume her shy, maidenly pose once more.

He took her arm and pulled her a few steps away from the others. “You’re not from around here, are you?” he asked, his accent faint, not a thick Highland brogue.

Evelyn looked into his clear silver grey eyes. They were direct, almost accusatory, as they fluttered quickly over her attire and back up to her face.

“Uh, no,” she said, glancing around her. Surely she was safe in this crowd? The man unnerved her with the urgent way he spoke and how he kept glancing at his pocket watch, his gaze never gone long from her face. “I’m from the, er, colonies.” She swallowed hard, hoping the sweat she felt popping out on her forehead wasn’t too visible.

He shook his head and continued to stare at her with those piercing eyes. “No,” he said succinctly. “I mean you aren’t from around
here
.” Once again he darted a look at his watch. When he raised his brows meaningfully at her, her mouth fell open and she pushed him a few feet further away from the others.

“Wait,” she sputtered. “You don’t mean?” She dropped her voice to a barely audible hiss. “Do you mean I’m not from this time?” Her heart was trying its level best to burst through her damn corset. She longed to yank at her bodice, but settled for waving her hands in front of her face. “How did you know that?” she asked when he continued to look at her expectantly.

He took out his pocket watch again and frowned at it. “You’ve come after the other woman, correct?” he asked.

“Piper? You’ve seen her?”

He held out his hand at Piper’s height. “Wee lass with unfashionably short hair? Aye, I’ve seen her.”

“Where is she? Is she all right?” Evelyn looked around for a place to sit down.

Even in normal, non-suffocating clothes, she would have felt woozy at meeting someone who knew on sight that she was from another time, and then didn’t seem phased by it. Was he from another time as well? She opened her mouth to ask him the first of about a dozen questions trying to jostle their way from her brain.

“They’re trying her for witchcraft tomorrow afternoon,” he said. “Which in this place, means convicting her of witchcraft tomorrow afternoon. She’ll be drowned shortly after. I wanted to try to help, but I just won’t have time.” He looked down at his infernal timepiece again and then offered her an apologetic grimace. Who the hell was this man?

“Witchcraft? Won’t have time? What— who—” she blinked and grasped at his arm.

“I’m terribly sorry, really,” he said, pulling out of her grip and walking quickly away.

Evelyn knew she couldn’t wrap her mind around anything the man had said, if she had heard him correctly, or if he was even there at all. How could he drop multiple bombshells on her like that, then just scurry off as if he were late to tea?

She ran after him, seeing his coat tails billow behind him as he rushed around the corner to the back exit of the pub. He didn’t take the exit, but instead turned into a small hallway behind the stairwell. If there was a room back there, she would trap him in it until he answered her many questions.

When she got to the back of the hall and turned to look behind the stairs, all she saw was a tiny corner nook, empty save a broom leaning against the chipped plaster wall. She stepped in and felt around for a doorway or a passage. The air felt cool and she shivered. There was nothing. The man had simply disappeared.

She stumbled back to the main area and made her way to a seat. Lachlan found her, his face falling at the sight of her.

“What is it?” he asked.

Too flummoxed by what had just happened, she waved her hand toward the back of the pub. “There was a man,” she managed.

His expression turned stormy. “Did someone accost ye?” Before she could answer, he charged off, only to return a few moments later. “I didna see anyone. Ye must describe the scoundrel to me.”

She managed to calm down enough to tell him she hadn’t been accosted in any way, but it felt like all eyes in the place were focused on them now, and she refused to tell him anything else until they were upstairs. He guided her to their rooms, hustling a maid out so they could be alone. As soon as the curious looking girl was out the door, Evelyn slammed it shut and leaned against it.

“Your reputation is now ruined,” he said, trying to joke her out of her agitation.

She punched him in the arm, only hurting her knuckles in the process, and told him everything that happened while he was renting the rooms. When she was done, all traces of humor had left him.

“Do ye think he spoke the truth?” Lachlan asked, rubbing the stubble on his chin, his eyes troubled.

“He gave me a fairly accurate description of her,” she said, unable to divide her concerns between Piper’s rescue and the mysterious man’s knowledge that she was from another time, let alone his disappearance into thin air. Right now she had to concentrate on Piper. “Yes, I believe him. Which means, we have to find her before tomorrow. Do you know where they keep prisoners here?” She almost choked on the word, hating the thought of Piper being locked up or mistreated.

He shook his head. “This place is verra different from the one I know.” He tugged at his waistcoat and frowned, equally disturbed by Piper’s incarceration. “I dinna think she would be at the castle. Perhaps a cellar?”

Evelyn sat on the edge of the bed. “A witch trial has to be big news, and if I know the people of Castle on Hill, they can’t keep their mouths shut. Maybe someone downstairs knows something.”

The look of worry cleared momentarily from his face, replaced with a radiant smile. “That’s a brilliant idea. Stay here for a bit,” he said, reaching for the doorknob. “I shall go down and pretend to get drunk, try to get someone to spill their knowledge.”

She nearly wore a path in the rug while she waited for him to return, alternating between gut twisting fear and impotent anger. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she should have stopped this somehow before she ended up back in the eighteenth century. She’d been distracted by her own life when her best friend was fighting an evil spirit. Poor Piper had been driven to seek out her insane grandmother, who probably planted the diary in order to lure her here in the first place.

By the time Lachlan got back, she felt like she would explode out of her stays from all the angst she’d worked up. Lachlan took one look at her and held up a bottle.

“I can see ye need this,” he said.

She took it from him, smelling whiskey that wasn’t coming from the bottle. “How much have you had?” she asked accusingly.

“Enough to make them believe I was just a gossip loving traveler, passing through the village, and no’ someone trying to chisel information from them,” he said rather tartly.