Chapter Five

Janet glowered at the giant brute standing beside her, one bulging and vein-roped arm plastered about her waist. So much for her ill-fated escape attempt, she thought glumly. The only thing it had garnered her was his undivided attention, not to mention being forcibly separated from Morag as though they were two naughty girls being grounded from playing with each other by their fathers.

So now she stood beside her captor who, much to her disgruntlement, looked extremely handsome now that he'd cleaned himself up a bit. Frightening, but handsome nevertheless.

He was wearing a clean plaid of muted blue and green with a white tunic beneath it. His plaid was draped over one arm and held together by a large emerald jewel at one shoulder. The garment fell just above his knees, showing off legs too well muscled to belong to a human.

Janet's lips pinched together. It wasn't fair that a man so dastardly should look so good.

Men who had the look of soldiers began to gather in on all sides. At first Janet thought it was to make certain she didn't try to flee—as if she could with Euan's tree of an arm clamped around her!—but now she wasn't so sure. They didn't seem to be paying her much attention in fact. Their interest seemed to lie with the short little man standing in front of she and Euan wearing a scratchy looking robe with a hooded cowl and speaking in some other foreign tongue she couldn't make heads or tails of.

Janet sighed. It had been a long day. It felt like days ago that she and Morag had attempted to fly the coop so to speak, but in reality it had only been what was probably ten to twelve hours.

After they had been recaptured, Euan and the fair-haired man that had stolen Morag had separated the women from each other's company. They'd been within seeing distance of the other at all times, but not within a range that allowed for conversation.

Janet had managed to scrape up her knees even worse while on the run, tripping over the fallen branch that had eventually permitted the big oaf at her side to catch up with her. Damn branch.

Following her rather ignominious capture, Euan had recleaned her knees in private then shut her cloak. He had pointed and growled at her clothing, making it apparent that she wasn't allowed to remove her outer wear for any reason whatsoever.

Not that she would have. She hardly wanted to show off skin to any of the men surrounding her.

Following his grunts and stern finger pointing lecture, Euan had placed her atop a horse and jumped up to sit behind her on the mount. They had ridden that way hour after hour, stopping only briefly to eat and care for the animals.

If there had been any lingering doubts in her mind as to whether or not she and Morag had managed to do the inexplicable and travel through time, they had quickly been vanquished. There was no evidence of the modern age anywhere to be found. Nothing but horses, non-English speaking peoples, shabbily dressed villagers, the occasional man or woman hocking crudely made foods and wares, and wild animals galore.

Then they had come to this place. This hole in the wall village that boasted a few thatched huts and little else. Morag had been the first to be swept from her horse and squirreled away into the very forest clearing Janet stood in right now.

When Morag had emerged from the clearing a bit later, her face had been white as a ghost's. She had been trying to tell Janet something with her eyes…something, but what she hadn't any notion.

Janet's gaze had fallen to Morag's clothing. The cloak she wore hadn't looked torn or bearing any evidence of a man trying to rip through it to force himself on her. That had been Janet's primary concern. When that fear had been wiped away, she'd been left in a quandary, knowing full well that her best friend had been trying to warn her of what would transpire in the forest clearing, but still unable to figure out what that something was.

So now here she stood, soldiers surrounding her on all sides, Euan stoically planted to her left, a tiny Latin-speaking man just in front of her. Latin? Yes, come to think of it, his words sounded remarkably like Latin.

The smallish man produced a bolt of cloth, placed Janet's hand atop Euan's, and wrapped them together like that. Curious, Janet's gaze shot up to meet Euan's. He didn't return it. His solemn face was intent on whatever it was the Latin speaker was saying.

What was going on! she wailed to herself. If she even knew what time she was in she might be able to sort out all of these strange happenings…

"Tha." Euan nudged her gently, breaking her out of her reverie. "Tha," he repeated commandingly, nodding down to her so she'd know she was expected to repeat what he'd just said.

Janet nibbled on her lower lip as a sense of awareness slowly stole over her. Tha. She'd heard that word before in the Highlands. It meant yes. If she repeated it, what exactly would she be agreeing to?

She moistened her lip nervously with her tongue, in the end deciding that there was no point in arguing with the man. If he wanted a yes she'd give him a yes. Begrudgingly, she narrowed her eyes at Euan and phonetically repeated the word she'd been prompted to say. "Ha."

Almost immediately the Latin speaker followed up with a few more words of his own. He said…something. Something that made Euan smile for a fraction of a second before he lowered his face to hers and kissed her chastely on the cheek.

Congratulatory shouts rose up from the surrounding soldiers, many of them thumping the giant beside her on the shoulder, almost as if they were saying to him "job well done."

Janet chewed that over for a moment. She stilled. Her back stiffened.

Her eyes shot up to meet Euan's as she gaped open-mouthed at him. His answering arrogant smirk was all the confirmation she needed.

Good lord in heaven, the man had just married her. And worse yet, she'd agreed to it.