Maddy decided not to respond to that. The last thing she needed was to get into an argument with a four-year-old. Rory was taken with the farm, the animals and Deryn himself, and to him this must seem like an exciting holiday. Let him go on thinking that. The less he understood what was really happening, the better.
She propped her chin on her hand, thinking, trying to piece together exactly what had happened to her. How could she have stepped through that arch in the park and ended up here? It made no sense.
Do ye believe what I told ye now?
Rodric’s words echoed in her mind. She tried to push them away, tried to pushallthoughts of him away, but they would not be banished. Instead, she found herself thinking about the strange stories he’d told her when they first met.
I’m not from this century, he’d said.I’m a time-traveler.
She’d ignored those stories, not understanding why he would make such claims, and she’d been so infatuated with him she’d not wanted to do anything that might rock the boat. But what if it wasn’t a wild story? What if he’d been telling the truth?
No,she told herself.That’s impossible.
And yet, everything she’d seen so far looked like it belonged in the Middle Ages. Torryn Keep. Deryn’s house. The clothes everyone wore. Heck, even the dress she was wearing looked like it belonged to some medieval farmwife.
No. No. No. She shot to her feet. There was no telling how long Deryn would be gone and she wouldnotsit here with her thoughts all day, driving herself crazy.
She looked around at the little cottage. It was time to get busy.
Chapter 8
Mara gave a low ‘uff’ of warning and Deryn threw himself flat, peering out from behind the clump of straggly bushes. He muttered a low curse. Damn it!
Up ahead, another pair of Rodric MacKay’s mounted scouts were riding along the trail. It was the fifth such pair that Deryn had encountered. He’d scouted in every direction, along every safe route that led to Fortrose, but it was always the same: Rodric MacKay was watching all of them.
Deryn frowned. Laird MacKay seemedverydetermined to find Madeleine and Rory. He wondered about that. Madeleine was not MacKay’s wife, just his mistress, which meant Rory was illegitimate. It was unusual for a lord to care so much about such offspring. Under the law, they could not inherit their family lands and titles and continue the family name. So why was MacKay so desperate to find the lad? MacKay had been going to force Madeleine to marry him. Had he been intending to legitimize the boy and make him his heir? That would explain his determination, but this explanation didn’t sit right with Deryn. There was something more to all this, he was sure.
He rose to his knees and crawled carefully backwards from his hiding place, then climbed downhill into the forest he’d trekked through to get here. The undergrowth was thick and tangled, too thick for mounted men to follow.
He’d given his word that he would help Madeleine and Rory get home, but that would not be possible. At least, not yet. There was a chance that if it had been just him and Madeleine, they might be able to sneak through MacKay’s lines, but with a young lad to take care of, that was just too much of a risk. He had no doubt what would happen if they were caught—Madeleine and Rory would end up back at Torryn Keep and he would likely end up dangling from a gibbet.
He retraced his route, traveling through hidden gullies and secret ravines that only he knew, and it was almost midday when he finally reached his little valley. Seeing it opening up ahead, he felt a surge of relief. He was home.
A voice spoke suddenly behind him. “And what do ye think ye are doing?”
Deryn whirled in alarm, but relaxed when he saw a big blond, ruddy-faced man grinning at him.
