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He gestured to her to come to him. So easily. As though she was his friend. As though she really was his beloved wife. As though she hadn’t lied to him from the moment she’d met him.

She couldn’t breathe. And she couldn’t help smiling back. Joy and happiness spread through her like warm sunlight.

Like spring.

She gestured with her head for him to go in.

He nodded, his eyes still lingering on her—not suspiciously anymore, but as though he cared. As though he wanted to make sure she didn’t need help, that she was all right.

And she…she was taking him in, every detail of his handsome face: the gorgeous curve of his eyebrows, the dark-green eyes, the chestnut-brown stubble.

She was saying goodbye to him.

Then he went in.

Amy exhaled slowly, both relieved and sorry that the moment was over.

Even though it was more and more difficult to leave, she had to. Jenny needed her. Amy couldn’t abandon her sister to take care of their dad. Besides, after hearing Elspeth’s story, she was more aware than ever of the danger she faced. What would people do to her once they found out the truth—that she was a time traveler?

What would Craig think…?

At best, he’d think her insane.

At worst, he’d lock her up in a dungeon somewhere or kill her.

No, no. She had to run. Run to Jenny.

If all went well tonight, she’d be back in her own time.

All she needed was to get into the underground storeroom—even if only for a minute.

The bowls burned her hands. She’d better hurry.

She proceeded through the courtyard into the eastern tower. Opening the door with her back, she squeezed in.

As expected, there were two guards: Hamish and Irvin. Well, Hamish seemed to like her. Maybe he’d go along with her plan more willingly.

“Good evening to you two,” Amy said cheerfully and set the bowls on a barrel.

They had been playing a game of some sort, but stood up at her entrance.

“Good evening, mistress,” Irvin said.

Last night, after Craig and Amy had returned from the search and rescue operation, Amy had brought stew and oatcakes with honey to the tower, to see if she could make friends with the guards. In the evenings, she’d found out, it was Irvin and Drummond. So why was Hamish here? Hopefully, it was a good sign—a sign of her luck.

“Some dinner for you two,” she said. “Irvin, I brought something special for you. Yesterday you said you liked stuffed fowl. Well—” She retrieved a bundle from the pocket of her dress and opened it. There were two stuffed, fire-roasted fowls. She had set the two birds aside from the game that was brought from the hunt last night and personally made this dish for Irvin and Drummond—after asking Fergus how to make them, of course.

Irvin’s eyes sparkled. “Aye?” he said.

“Oh, aye,” she echoed with a smile. “Actually, there’s one for Drummond, too, but where is he?”

Irvin licked his lips. “He’s ill. More for me.”

Amy frowned. “Now, that wouldn’t be very nice. He must be hungry. Why don’t you bring one to him, eat your dinner and keep him company for a while? I’m sure Hamish can stand guard alone for a bit.”

Irvin glanced at Hamish, who shrugged his shoulder.

“Aye, I can stand guard alone,” Hamish said. “Not that I need ye much anyway.” He guffawed.