Your lass.Hislass. Of course, Charlotte wasn’t his. She was a stranger who had fallen into his arms. Literally. Still. He couldn’t deny that he rather liked the sound of the phrase. Liked the idea, too. She was bonny, as his brother had pointed out, but there was an inner strength to her. She’d had the courage to run away from a situation she didn’t want. He sensed there was more to the situation than what she’d told him, but he’d give her time for the telling of it. And, he realized, he wanted to spend more time with her. Wanted to hold her—this time while she was conscious—and kiss her…
“Are ye back with the living?”
Niall blinked at Simon’s words and then felt an unfamiliar heat crawl up his neck.Contrachd! Curses! Had he actually been traipsing away in fantasy like a complete eejit while his father had important news?
“I was just thinking we can put more trust in the lass now.”
“Aye. Trust.” Simon didn’t look fooled for a moment. “If that is what ye want to call it.”
He refused to take the bait and turned to his father. “Do ye have news on Prince Charlie as well?”
“Aye. Ye ken Glasgow was nae particularly welcoming when he returned, in spite of the balls he hosted, but,” his father’s grin widened, “he managed to nae only secure several thousand pounds, but the Provost agreed to outfit all six thousand troops with new uniforms and boots.”
That, in itself, was worth a small fortune. With the worst of the winter onset in the next few weeks, it was also much needed, for survival as well as morale. But another thought struck him.
“Six thousand men? Prince Charlie is near his goal, then.”
“Aye. ’Tis another bit of good news as well. Cumberland is still in London, which leaves General Hawley in charge of the government troops in Scotland.”
That was good news, or at least as good as it could get if there were going to beanygovernment troops in Scotland. The duke was the third son of the king and had gotten a formidable reputation for brutal violence on the Continent during the conflict over the Austrian succession. Having him out of the country—even temporarily—was good. King George must have heard rumors that the French were planning to aid Prince Charlie and wanted Cumberland on the home front since France’s easiest entry ports would be along the eastern coast of England.
“So what is next?” Simon asked.
“I’ve sent word to my brother Charles at Inverallochy to prepare our men in case the prince issues a call-to-arms,” his father said. “I’m a wee bit too long in the tooth to lead the men myself.”
His father certainly looked braw enough, even though the man was in his seventies. And cagey. Niall raised his brows. “Do ye think my uncle will try to engage Hawley?”
“Mayhap. I think Prince Charlie has his eye on Stirling Castle, though,” his father answered. “’Twould be an opportune time to attack.”
“The castle is well-fortified,” Niall said, “even if the garrison itself numbers only a few hundred men.”
“Aye. Well, the word is the townspeople will nae hold out long,” his father answered, “so a siege may be just as beneficial. Prince Charlie’s troops will have food and shelter. They can starve out the garrison.”
Simon leaned back and smiled. “Sounds like we may be on our way to independence.”
Niall nodded his acquiescence, although something niggled at him, like there were too many questions left unanswered. He just wasn’t sure whether it was about Scotland’s future or the future of the lass he’d brought home.
****
Thankfully, everyone was abuzz about the news that had been delivered and Charlotte wasn’t asked many questions at dinner that night. Even better, no one was staring at her withunansweredquestions in their eyes.
Because she didn’t have the answers.
“Ye look tired,” Greer said as she held out a plate of bannocks.
Charlotte took one. The scone-like bread was baked with oatmeal and had a wonderful heartiness to it, especially when she added fresh-churned butter from the creamery shed. Just what she needed.
“I guess I am. Visiting the inns today was stressful.”
“Aye. I can imagine. ’Tis never easy when a friend or kin goes missing.” Greer set the plate down. “But doona give up hope that we’ll find them.”
Charlotte didn’t want to squelch any hope, but she suspected Thea and Vi were still in the twenty-first century. Or, rather,would bein the twenty-first century. It was really hard to wrap her head around the fact that she’d actually time-traveled.
She still didn’t know how, either. While they had been in Inverness earlier, she’d made a point of standing on the bank where she had stood with her friends. She’d retraced her steps toward where the dance had taken place on the riverbank, ostensibly to enjoy the view. She’d even walked widdershins in an oblong circle, since that was the direction she’d been dancing in—from what she recalled—when she felt herself drifting. She’d felt pretty stupid doing that, since she vaguely recalled moving counter-clockwise as the direction witches danced in. Not that she thought witchcraft had anything to do with what happened, but she had wondered about magic.
Nothing had happened. Except for the absence of the Best Western and the cathedral, the landscape looked remarkably like it had in the twenty-first century.
“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see if my friends turn up,” she said. “I don’t know what else we can do.”
