Though he supposed just her time period was reason enough. He was half tempted to send her back to whenever she’d come from with a can or two of safety spray, though he imagined that might have gotten her burned at the stake after the fact.
“My uncle Lachlan says there are fairies and bogles in this forest.”
He glanced at her. “Do you think that’s possible?”
She looked absolutely shattered. “I don’t know.” She stopped, stared off into the distance for a moment or two, then looked at him. “Do you think ‘tis possible?”
“Well—”
She searched his face more closely than he was comfortable with. “You do,” she whispered.
“Scotland is a very special place,” he conceded, because he found, to his surprise, that he believed it. It was no wonder Cameron—and Derrick, for that matter—came back to it as often as possible. For the first time, he found himself envying them their connection to the land.
And then it occurred to him just what that meant. Her uncle? Was she one of Laird Ranald’s daughters then?
He felt himself come back to earth in a particularly ungentle way. He wasn’t looking at a simple serving girl; he was looking at a Renaissance noblewoman who was off in the wilds of the future without permission. Obviously, things had to change, and rapidly. He had years of experience in inventing reasonable-sounding excuses for being wherever he was, though he would be the first to admit that trying to convince a 16th-century clanswoman to stay in her proper time was new.
“Let’s say this,” he began slowly. “Have you been to Cameron Hall?”
She nodded.
“And whilst it is still in Scotland, it’s different to the MacLeod hall, aye?”
She frowned. “Aye, of course.”
“Then think of this place as just another place, much like a different hall. Still in Scotland, just different.”
“But I left my part of the book in the bole of a tree near the witch’s croft yesterday,” she said carefully. “When I looked a bit ago, ‘twas there no longer.”
“Think of this forest as being a bit different from yours as well.”
“That’s daft,” she said, though she looked to be considering it. “So, I’m not in a dream.”
“I think we’re both real enough,” he said, trying to be as careful as she had been.
She looked over the meadow. “I cannot hear my flock.”
“You might, if you moved a bit closer to them.”
She nodded up the meadow. “Have you seen that strange patch of earth on the border of our lands?”
He had the feeling he might know the place, but he didn’t want to assume anything that might interfere with getting her back home where she belonged.
“Show me?” he asked politely.
She nodded and walked with him up the meadow. She paused by that particular ring in the grass, then looked up at him.
“What is this thing, do you think?”
“I think it could be a way to get from here to a different place,” he said carefully.
“What place?” she asked, her voice barely audible. “Your demon world?”
He smiled. “I thought we decided yesterday that I’m not a demon.”
She scowled at him, though her heart didn’t look to be in it. “I’m still coming to a decision on that, but I’ll allow that your manners are too fine for it.”
“Thank you.”
