Chapter 13
As soon as Ruby woke, she knew Evan was gone.
It wasn’t the absence of warmth beside her—he had never slept close enough for that—but the feel of the room itself was different. The air lay flat and unstirred. No careful movements. No faint scrape of leather or muted oath as he adjusted a strap or checked a blade he pretended she hadn’t noticed.
She didn’t like the feeling. It felt...empty. She sat up, looking around. The candle had burned out and a chill brushed against her skin, making her shiver. Where had he gone? And why hadn’t he woken her?
She spotted something written on the wall by the window. She swung her legs out of bed and crossed the room, bare feet cold against the floorboards. She read the message.
Back soon. Stay inside. Bolt the door.
No explanation. No apology. No hint of where he’d gone or why. Just a set of orders, as though she were a child who might wander into traffic if left unwatched.
Well. That wasn’t happening. She’d spent the last five years living in Edinburgh, navigating the busy life of Scotland’s capital. Different century or not, sherefusedto cower in her own city.
You chose this, she told herself firmly.You wanted to come here, remember? So it’s time you started taking control.
Now she was in Edinburgh, she was sure everything would be fine. She repeated it to herself once more, just to be sure, then left the room and headed downstairs.
The common room of the inn was already busy. The smell of frying fat and hot milk wrapped around her the moment she stepped off the stairs. A fire crackled at one end of the room and several patrons sat hunched over bowls and platters, eating quietly.
The innkeeper looked up as she entered, his expression brightening. “Morning to ye, mistress,” he said. “Will yer husband be joining ye for breakfast?”
The word hit her sideways. Husband? Ruby opened her mouth, already forming the words,he’s not my husband—
She swallowed the correction and forced a small smile. “No,” she said. “He’s... gone out early. Business.”
“Hungry?”
“Starving.”
The innkeeper grinned. “Neeps and bacon then. Best in the house.”
She took a seat in one corner, trying to appear calm when in actual fact her pulse was racing. She was here. Really here. Sitting in a seventeenth century Edinburgh inn. She clasped her hands in her lap and tried to take in her surroundings.
The innkeeper brought over a wooden platter of food and a cup of hot milk. Ruby nodded her thanks and used the knife Evan had given her to begin eating. When she took her first bite, her eyes nearly closed in relief. God. It was perfect. Crisp bacon, salty and smoky, the turnips mashed and mixed with butter.
For a while, she allowed herself to simply eat and listen to the conversations going on around her. Two burly young men were arguing amiably over the price of wool. A woman wearing a tartan headscarf complained about the weather andher husband in equal measure. Someone laughed too loudly at a joke Ruby couldn’t quite catch.
Normal life. Normal concerns. Nothing about dangerous smugglers or a man being hunted. Nothing about time travelers who’d stepped into the wrong century.
When the innkeeper passed by, Ruby laid a hand on his arm. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course, mistress.”
“Do you know a woman named Charlotte Douglas?” She hesitated. “Or Charlotte Campbell, as she must be known now.”
He frowned, thinking, then shook his head. “Canna say I do.”
Her stomach sank, but she pressed on. “What about Niall Campbell, her husband? Tall, blondy-brown hair.”
The innkeeper considered again, then shook his head more firmly. “No, sorry to say.”
The innkeeper walked off, leaving Ruby sitting with her hands around her cup of warm milk. Before she could take a sip, one of the other patrons—one of the young men who’d been discussing wool prices—leaned across from the next table.
“I know a Niall Campbell who fits that description.”
Ruby blinked. “You do?”
