She sucked calming breaths through her nostrils. “I’m okay,” she said. “Just a little disorientated, that’s all.”
“Dinna fash. Ye should meet my friend Oskar in the mornings. None of us dare go near him until he’s had his breakfast.”
Molly wiped the back of her hand across her forehead and gave a wan smile. “I can relate to that.”
“If ye are ready, we’ll eat breakfast aboard the boat,” Conall said. “We need to catch the tide if we are to get ye to that convent.”
Ah, yes, the convent. The place Conall was taking her to. The place he thought could help her because she’d lost her memory.
She hadn’t lost her memory, of course. The flimsy story she’d told him last night was a lie. If she was to go through with her plan, she had to make sure he didn’t discover she was a time-traveler.
She glanced at Conall. He certainly didn’t look like a witch-burner but she wasn’t about to fall for his good looks and easy charm. Oh dear me, no. She had to guard herself and that meant revealing nothing that she didn’t have to.
Clambering up, she followed him out of the cave and into the early morning sunshine. Her gaze fell on the boat bobbing gently in the swell. TheMermaidwas central to her plan—a plan Conall would not like one bit.
A pang of guilt went through her as she thought about what she intended to do but she pushed it away ruthlessly. She had to get home. That’s all that mattered.
They climbed aboard the boat and Molly leaned against the rough wood railing as they got underway, salt spray stinging her cheeks. The cry of gulls echoed over the crashing waves as she gazed out at the endless expanse of gray sea.
So familiar. And yet so utterly different.
Unbidden, her da’s voice suddenly drifted through her mind, spinning tales of selkies shedding their seal skins and dancing along the rocky shores, or Fae folk playing tricks on unwary fishermen. She used to laugh and call them silly stories, but now... If time travel was possible, who’s to say those old legends didn’t hold some truth too? Who knew what was real now?
At thoughts of her da, Molly chewed her bottom lip, brows furrowing. Her hand crept up to clutch at the necklace around her neck. He must be worried sick and probably calling the coastguard by now. Or would he even know she was gone? When she returned would she return to the exact same moment she left? As though she hadn’t been gone at all? Aargh, it was all so confusing.
With a sigh, Molly pushed off from the railing and headed to adjust the mainsail.One thing at a time, she told herself as she worked the ropes and canvas with practiced ease.
She shot a furtive glance at Conall handling the tiller. His brow was furrowed in concentration, gray eyes scanning the sea. He seemed honorable so far, but looks could be deceiving. If the behavior of those raiders was anything to go by, people in this time were prone to violence. What if Conall was the same?
Molly busied herself checking the rigging and sails, letting the familiar tasks soothe her nerves. Though the boat was ancient by her standards, the fundamentals of sailing remained the same. Knots secured, lines coiled, she began to relax into the rhythm of the waves.
Conall watched her work, approval glinting in his stormy eyes. “Ye’ve done this before, lass.”
Molly flushed, wondering how to explain her seamanship if she had lost her memory like she claimed. “My father must have taught me, I suppose,” she mumbled.
“Aye, then he taught ye well.”
She bit her lip. Even little truths felt like lies. “Yes, he must have.”
They sailed north for hours, following the coast. Though the circumstances were strange, Molly felt at home on the sea. She’d practically grown up on her da’s boats, the rocking of the waves as familiar as a lullaby. For a moment, she could pretend this was just another day out on the water.
Until she remembered it wasn’t. Her da was lifetimes away, and she was adrift in another time with a man she hardly knew. She shoved away the panic, focusing on the task at hand. Check the sail. Watch the telltales. Work now, think later.
As they sailed, Molly found her gaze lingering on Conall more often than she would like, taking in his muscular frame and rugged features. There was an undeniable magnetism about him that fascinated her, despite her wariness. Or perhaps because of it. Who was he? And what was he doing out here?
Conall glanced up, meeting her gaze. “Something on yer mind, lass?”
Molly flushed, embarrassed to be caught staring. “Just...taking in the scenery,” she said lightly.
His eyes crinkled with humor, but he didn’t press the issue. Molly cleared her throat, determined to discover more about the mysterious warrior. “So,” she said, trying to sound casual. “You’ve told me you’re heading north but not why. What brings you out here?”
“Business,” he replied.
“What sort of business?”
His gray eyes flicked to hers. “Business that is my own.”
Molly huffed a breath. Okay. Fine. She tried a different angle. “What about your family? Friends?”
