Chapter 8

A nna slowly blinked her eyes open. Her limbs felt heavy and her thoughts fuzzy. It took her a moment to figure out why she was looking up at thick wooden beams rather than the ceiling of her bedroom, but then yesterday came flooding back with a vengeance. Oh. Right. Yesterday.

She stretched her arms over her head and yawned hugely. After such an insane day she wasn't surprised she'd slept like a log. She'd been so exhausted when they'd arrived last night that she'd barely registered it. She remembered meeting Emeric's mother and then being escorted to this sumptuous guest room but that was about it.

She lay there for a while, enjoying the feel of the pillows beneath her head and the thick blankets weighing her down. She was pretty sure she could sleep all day if she tried.

With a groan, she sat up. Light was spilling from beneath the heavy drapes, suggesting the morning was wearing on. She gave a little huff, swung her legs around, and climbed out of bed. Padding across the room, she grabbed the drapes and pulled them wide, squinting at the sudden bright sunlight that flooded the room. The window itself was tall and narrow, and through it she could see a seemingly endless expanse of moorland stretching into the distance. It looked bleak and uninviting but somehow beautiful at the same time. How did Emeric and his family make their living up here if they hadn't turned this place into a hotel?

There was fresh water in a jug on the nightstand, along with a fresh set of clothes hanging on the back of the chair. The bowl of dirty water had also been taken away. Somebody had been in while she slept—Maisie?

Seating herself by the nightstand, she took another quick wash—the water was freezing—and then examined the clothes that had been laid out for her. There were linen undergarments and a heavy blue dress to go over the top.

There was no sign of her own clothes and she guessed that whoever had taken away the dirty water had taken them away too, leaving the dress in their place. Really? This is what she was expected to wear? It looked like something out of a historical drama. It was not her thing at all.

Still, there wasn't much choice. With a shrug, she began to dress. The linen underwear was a little itchy, the dress heavy and difficult to get into, but she finally managed it and turned to the mirror to see what she looked like. Except there was no mirror. There was, however, a comb that looked to be made out of bone, so she pulled it through her tangled tresses, doing her best to make herself look presentable. After the treatment her hair had received in the bog yesterday, a trip to the hairdressers was definitely in order. And maybe the spa for good measure.

Satisfied that she looked at least halfway human, she opened her bedroom door and stuck her head into the corridor. A long passage stretched off in both directions, with a tartan runner covering the flagstone floor and several tapestries attached to the walls. There was nobody in sight but she could hear the general hubbub of a large house echoing through the floors: distant voices, a barking dog, the clatter of crockery.

She stepped out and, trying to remember the route she'd taken last night, turned right. This soon brought her to a winding staircase that spiraled downwards. A young woman was walking up the stairs, carrying an armload of folded linen.

Anna stepped back to let her pass and gave her a broad smile. "Good morning!"

"Good morning, my lady," the woman replied, giving her a little curtsey. "Did ye sleep well?"

My lady? And what was the curtsey all about? These highland aristocrats had strange manners. The young woman had blonde hair and a dimpled smile and Anna realized it was the same girl who'd shown her to her room last night.

"Maisie, isn't it? Yes, I slept well. That bedroom would make any Glasgow hotel jealous!"

A confused expression crossed Maisie's face but then she curtseyed again. "I'm pleased. Lady Mackintosh and her daughter are in the great hall if ye would like to join them?"

"The great what?"

Maisie nodded at the stairs. "To the bottom. Left at the entrance hall. I know that Lady Aislinn in particular is dying to make yer acquaintance."

With that, Maisie curtsied again then walked off along the corridor, carrying her pile of linen. Anna stared after her, before giving a shrug and carrying on her way .

At the bottom of the stairs, she came out in the wide entrance hall she remembered from last night. This time though, the big double doors were thrown open, letting light spill inside and giving a view of the large courtyard beyond. The rain and wind from last night had blown through, leaving the day sparkling and bright.

Turning in the other direction, she saw a large inner door standing ajar. Through it, Anna could hear two female voices. They seemed to be arguing.

"If ye put them there, ye are asking for trouble," said an older voice. "Graeme and Robert MacAllister dinna get on at the best of times and their wives are even worse. They're like a pair of wildcats when they've got whiskey inside them. It'll end in a brawl!"

"I dinna see why I have to have either of the MacAllisters here at all!" responded a younger voice. "Crotchety old sots, the pair of them!"

"And two of yer uncle's most loyal tenants. What would it look like if ye didnae invite them?"

"Fine. I'll put Robert and his wife on the table at the back with the Dunsmoors."

"Do that and ye'll have to put Graeme on the other back table or Robert will think ye are showing favoritism to his brother."

There was a cry of frustration and the sound of breaking crockery.

After a moment's silence, the older voice said. "Now that was just childish."

Anna crept to the door and peered through the crack. A cavernous room with a vaulted ceiling lay on the far side, with a vast fireplace against one wall. It was filled with tables and benches and an older woman who she recognized as Emeric's mother was standing by a table with her hands on her hips.

A younger woman with long dark hair was facing her, also with her hands on her hips, and they were glaring like two fighting tomcats. The jagged pieces of smashed pottery lay on the floor between them.

Anna delicately cleared her throat. "Um. Sorry...I hope I'm not interrupting?"

The two women spun at the sound of her voice. The younger woman's face broke into a wide smile.

"Ah! At last!" She hurried across the room and took Anna's hands in hers, drawing her into the hall. "I was so annoyed that Emeric didnae introduce us last night. I'm Aislinn, Emeric's sister. So nice to meet ye. Come in, come in."

A little flustered by the exuberance of the greeting, Anna allowed Aislinn to lead her to the table where Emeric's mother waited. She couldn't help looking around as she did so, hoping to find the sandy-haired highlander waiting for her. But he was nowhere to be seen.

"Nice to meet you," Anna said. "I'm Anna."

"Oh, I know who ye are," Aislinn replied. "And so does half the clan by now, I reckon."

"They do?"

"Oh, aye! Ye canna keep secrets in this clan and my wayward brother bringing a woman home in the middle of the night? Ye canna get much juicier gossip than that!"

Anna felt her face reddening. "But it's not like that—"

"And what's more," Aislinn continued. "Everyone has been hoping Emeric will get married for ages. I mean, what kind of man stays single at his age? And now ye are here...well, tongues are bound to wag."

Anna blushed scarlet. "What?" she spluttered. "Emeric and I aren't...we just...it's not like that!"

Hildie stepped forward and gave her daughter a scathing look. "Linny knows exactly what it's like. She just loves to stir up trouble even though she ought to know better." She smiled at Anna. "Dinna fash, dear. I'll ensure anyone who jumps to conclusions is set straight."

Aislinn rolled her eyes. "Ma! Ye ruin all the fun! Oh, all right." She took Anna's arm and guided her to a seat on the long bench by the table. "I want to hear all about how ye got here! Is it true Emeric pulled ye out of the bog?"

Anna nodded. "I'm afraid so. If he hadn't come along, I don't know what I would have done."

Aislinn scowled. "Those marshes are a bloody liability. Do ye know they cover the length of our eastern border? I keep telling Uncle Douglas he should drain them. That way we'll have more fertile farm land and we could make the clan rich!"

"And yer uncle has told ye countless times that draining those marshes isnae possible," Hildie cut in. "The manpower needed is beyond aught we could muster."

"That's not what Brodie says," Aislinn countered. "He reckons there are new techniques we could use that would make it much easier."

"And young Brodie is an expert on such matters is he? "

Anna watched the bickering in bemused silence. She got the impression that this was usual for the pair.

"Who is Brodie?" she asked.

Aislinn's eyes lit up and a bright smile curled her lips. "Brodie Murray," she announced proudly. "My betrothed."

"Betrothed? As in, engaged to be married, you mean?"

"Oh, aye!" Aislinn said with a laugh.

She got up and swept over to the far end of the room, disappearing behind a large oak screen in the corner. When she emerged again, she carried with her a broad tartan sash. Bringing it back to the table, she unfolded it with a flourish, revealing a rich pattern of green and blue intersected by hairline streaks of red.

"This is the Murray clan plaid," Aislinn said, running her fingers along the soft wool folds. "Brodie gave this to me when he asked for my hand. His mother wove it herself."

She draped the sash across her shoulder and did a little twirl. "What do ye think? Will I pass for a Murray?"

"I'm sure you will," Anna laughed. "I just didn't realize you were getting married." Although, the argument she'd overheard made sense now. How many mothers and daughters had argued about the seating for a wedding?

"Aye, that's why Emeric has finally come home. There's not much else that would tear him away from that precious Order of the Osprey of his. Not even his own family."

"Hush, Linny," Hildie chided. "Ye know yer brother does what he must."

Aislinn huffed out a sigh. "Aye, I know. I just wish he didnae have to be away so much."

Hildie patted her hand. "We all do."

Anna said nothing, biting back the questions that crowded on her tongue. There was so much about Emeric she didn't know.

"Ye'll come to the wedding, willnae ye?" Aislinn said suddenly, gripping Anna's hands.

"I...um...I..." Anna replied, flustered.

"Linny," Hildie said. "I'm sure Anna will want to be on her way."

"Oh," Aislinn replied, her shoulders sagging like a popped balloon. "I suppose so."

Anna felt a surge of guilt at the disappointment on Aislinn's face. "If I can make it, I'll try," she said, her voice uncertain. "I don't really have any forward travel plans yet." It all depended on how soon she could get back to the hire car and be on her way.

Aislinn's face lit up. "That's grand! It will be so much fun!"

Hildie gave Anna a knowing look, as if saying you've done it now.

"Oh, ye will love it! A Murray wedding is quite the spectacle!" Aislinn continued, with renewed excitement. "There will be feasting, dancing, singing...and the games beforehand of course."

A warm feeling uncurled inside Anna. She barely knew these people but they were making her feel like part of their family. The thought of attending Aislinn's wedding, of watching the clan gather in celebration, it was...nice. Her stomach growled suddenly, making her blush.

Hildie, hearing the rumble, chuckled and rose to her feet. "I think we've kept ye long enough without food," she said in her warm, smooth voice. "I'll have a servant bring something for ye."

With a friendly pat on Anna's shoulder, she left the room. Aislinn immediately started chattering again, her words blending together in a flow of enthusiasm and wedding plans.

Hildie returned soon after with a young girl trailing behind her, balancing a tray laden with food. There were boiled eggs halved and sprinkled with herbs, slices of toasted bread slathered with butter and a large bowl of porridge.

The maid set the tray down on the table in front of Anna. It looked amazing. It also looked way too much for one person.

"Aren't you eating?" she asked Hildie and Aislinn.

Hildie shook her head "We broke our fast several hours ago, my dear."

Anna glanced out the window. Without her phone, she had no idea of the time. "Why, what time is it?"

"Almost noon. We'll soon be serving the midday meal."

"Noon?" Anna cried. "Why did you let me sleep so long?"

"After yer ordeal yesterday, ye seemed like ye needed it. And besides, Maisie went in to see ye this morning and couldnae wake ye. We all thought it best to let ye sleep."

Oh God! How embarrassing. She hadn't slept this late since she'd been a teenager!

"Never mind, lass," Hildie reassured her, waving her concerns away. "It's all part of the recovery process. Now eat up before it gets cold. "

Aislinn and Hildie continued their conversation, seemingly not minding that Anna was more focused on consuming her breakfast than contributing to the dialogue. They discussed people she didn't know and customs she wasn't familiar with. Their words washed over her like waves on a beach while she savored the softness of the boiled eggs, the crunch of toasted bread, and the comforting taste of porridge.

Finally, she sighed, pushing away her bowl and leaning back in her chair. "That was great. I'll have to have porridge and toast for lunch more often."

She smiled, meaning the comment lightly, but as she leaned back in her chair, she realized that Hildie and Aislinn were staring at her strangely.

"What?" Anna asked. "Oh, wait. I've got food around my mouth, haven't I?" She picked up one of the cloth napkins and quickly wiped her lips. "Better?"

Aislinn laughed. "What is ‘lunch'? Ye say the oddest things. I never realized Glasgow people were so strange!"

Anna smiled. "I prefer the term ‘eccentric'. And I'm not from Glasgow. Not originally anyway."

"So where does Clan Webster hail from?" Hildie asked.

"I've no idea. In fact I don't even know if there is a Clan Webster. And I'm not really from anywhere. My parents moved around a lot when I was a kid. I was born near Inverness but spent a lot of time in England, Spain, Greece, Italy."

Aislinn's eyes widened. "Ye've been to all those places? Oh my! I would love to see them. Yer family must be wealthy indeed to have houses all over Europe. "

Anna snorted. "Hardly. They're the struggling artist types. Wealth isn't exactly high on their list of priorities."

Neither is their daughter , she thought bitterly.

She called to mind the small studio apartment in Rome where her mother used to paint until late into the night, the smell of turpentine and oil paint lingering in the air. She remembered fondly their seaside cottage in Greece where her father would sit by the turquoise water, sketching all day while she played with local children on the sands.

Then she thought of the countless times she had to move, the friends she'd left behind, the numerous schools she'd attended. Each location might have been different, but the feeling of being an outsider—a perpetual newcomer—remained a constant.

She climbed to her feet. "Thank you for everything," she said. "But it's time I got out of your hair. I really need to get back to my car. Is Emeric around? I was hoping he might show me the way. I do not want to get stuck in that bog again."

"He's out training the men for the games," Aislinn said. "I'll show ye."

Aislinn stood and moved around the table to take Anna's arm. Anna said a quick goodbye to Hildie before Aislinn swept her out of the room, through the keep's entrance, and into the courtyard beyond.

After the gloom of the hall, the brightness outside made Anna's eyes water. She blinked, trying to clear the blur from her eyes. It was a bright, sunny day, although a cold wind was blowing, sending fluffy clouds scudding through the sky like errant sheep .

Anna allowed Aislinn to lead her across the courtyard to a gate on the other side. The courtyard was surrounded on all sides by the walls of the keep, like the cloisters of an abbey. Wooden buildings lined one side of the courtyard, tucked close against the walls and from the smell of straw and manure, she guessed that at least one of the buildings was a stable. Yes, this place would make an excellent hotel. Or wedding venue.

There weren't many people about and they saw not another soul as they crossed the courtyard and passed through the narrow wooden door. As they stepped out onto the other side, Anna stopped dead, staring.

Ahead of her lay a wide expanse of flattened earth about the size of a football pitch. The space around the edges was crowded with people of all ages. The men sported thick beards and braided hair and wore tartan plaid swathed around their large frames. The women wore skirts of wool that swirled in the wind, the thick fabric bright against their plain blouses. Children chased each other through the crowds, their laughter echoing as they ducked in and out of clusters of gossiping adults.

In the middle of it all, strung out across the cleared area stood a line of men, each holding a bow as tall as he was. Their arms flexed as they held the bows taut, eyes focused on straw targets in the distance.

A sudden gust of wind caught Anna's hair, sending it streaming behind her like a banner. What was going on? Was this an archery display? And why was everyone dressed so strangely?

As if sensing her confusion, Aislinn leaned close. "News has spread that my brother's home. They've all come to watch him train the men for the games. There's no better archer in all the Highlands." Her voice throbbed with pride.

Anna studied the assembled crowd. No wonder there hadn't been anyone in the courtyard. They were all here. It looked as though an entire village had gathered to watch. An air of good-natured competition hung heavy, punctuated by the thwack of arrows leaving bows and slapping targets. Each successful hit was greeted with rousing cheers from the spectators. Anna shaded her eyes against the sun and went on tiptoes to see over the heads of the crowd.

And then she saw him.

Emeric stood in the center of the line, a longbow loosely held in one hand. A gust of wind brushed past, making his plaid flutter slightly, revealing sinewy thighs, as finely muscled as the rest of him.

His eyes were narrowed in concentration as he stared at the target in the distance. There was something almost savage about the uncompromising set of his mouth, his unblinking focus.

Emeric nocked an arrow to the string, raised his bow, and Anna felt a thrill run through her as she watched his muscles flex, pulling the string taught until it lay against his lip.

In the silence that fell over the spectators, the only sound was the steady cawing of a distant crow. Then Emeric released, the arrow singing through the air and thumping into the target dead-center with an audible ‘thwack' .

A loud cheer erupted from the crowd. Emeric held his stance for another moment, studying his mark before he slowly lowered his bow, allowing himself a small smile of satisfaction.

Aislinn beamed, eyes sparkling with pride and affection for her brother. Anna tried to picture her own family being this enthusiastic about anything she did and failed miserably.

Emeric turned at the sound of applause, his eyes scanning the crowd until they landed on Anna. Something flashed across his face, something that quickened her breathing. He strode over, his bow slung over his shoulder.

"Still the show-off I see, brother," Aislinn teased.

Emeric grinned, unashamed. "Aye. Are ye impressed yet?" His gaze drifted to Anna. The intensity of his stare made her cheeks flush and her heart beat faster.

Aislinn noticed the mutual gaze and nudged her brother lightly in the ribs. "Have yer eyes found a new target to aim at, Emeric?"

Emeric scowled at his sister. "How about ye go and annoy someone else, little hawk."

Aislinn gave a wicked laugh and then excused herself, hurrying off to speak to a group of people clustered on the edge of the field. Anna found herself left alone with Emeric.

There was an awkward silence as they stared at each other, the clamor of the crowd and the occasional twang of an arrow hitting a target the only sounds to fill the space between them.

Finally, he spoke. "So. Did ye come to watch me show off too?"

"I...uh.. "

I came to say goodbye.

The words lodged in her throat. "I've never seen archery before. Not like that, anyway," she said instead.

Emeric turned to watch the archers practicing their shots. His expression turned pensive as it flicked across the assembled crowd and then back to his sister.

"Aye, well, perhaps we can hold our own in the games. I know that would please Aislinn, not to mention my uncle."

"Your uncle?"

"Aye," he said, turning back to her. "My father's elder brother. He's the laird of Clan Mackintosh and lord of this castle and its lands."

She guessed a laird meant some kind of wealthy landowner. "Right. And these games. Are they a competition?"

"Aye. Part of the celebrations for Aislinn's wedding. There will be archery and wrestling and blade work and ax throwing and others besides."

"That's a strange way to celebrate a wedding! What's wrong with a hen party like normal?" She grinned, meaning it as a joke, but Emeric didn't smile.

"A hen party? Is that one of yer twenty-first century customs?"

The grin died on Anna's lips. Why was he still continuing with this ridiculous time travel charade? Did he not realize when a joke had gone far enough?

She opened her mouth to tell him so, but the words died on her lips. Her gaze fell on the people beyond him and she looked, really looked, for the first time .

She noticed the absence of synthetic fibers in everyone's clothes and the prominence of natural materials like wool, cotton and linen. She saw no zippers or buttons. Instead clothes were fastened with brooches or laces. And then there was the horse, not a car, that had brought her here. There was the way the keep was lit by candles rather than electric lights. There was the maid that had brought hot water in a jug rather than just turning a tap. There was the way weddings were celebrated with games of archery and wrestling.

And there was Emeric's claim that this was the fifteenth century.

Anna swayed on her feet as the world tipped abruptly.

"Are ye alright?" Emeric asked, noticing her sudden change in demeanor. "Ye look pale."

"I'm fine," she lied quickly, trying to keep the fear out of her voice. She swallowed a few times before she could speak. "Emeric, what year did you say this was?"

"I thought ye didnae believe—"

"What year?"

He watched her for a moment. "It's 1497, lass."

Oh no. Oh, no, no, no.

Anna felt her stomach drop, her heart racing. 1497? That couldn't be right. But as she looked around—properly looked—the signs were all there. No electricity, no watches or smartphones, people using horses for transportation.

Time travel wasn't real. Yet here she was, standing in what Emeric claimed was the year 1497, surrounded by people who knew nothing of antibiotics or space travel or the concept of democracy, or the million other things she took for granted every day .

She had walked into this thinking it was some eccentric country way of life, but now...

1497?

Emeric stepped closer, his green eyes as clear as the open sea. "Anna, lass, are ye sure ye all right?"

"Yes," she mumbled as the ground tilted beneath her feet and her legs began to buckle. "Just need to...sit...down a minute."

Then the ground rushed up to meet her and everything went black.