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Her hand clasped around the blouse on her belly. She was still nauseated from time to time, and she had missed one period since she got back. They’d had unprotected sex, but she’d been on a pill—which, of course, she hadn’t taken with her to the Middle Ages…

So, of course, she could be pregnant. Why hadn’t she considered this before? She had thought of it, briefly, but always ignored it. Oh yes. She was in denial.

Another wave of cold tingles ran over her.

“Wh-when was Paul Mackenzie born?”

Anusua squinted at her. “Who?”

“Th-their son, Angus and Euphemia’s… When was he born?”

“Oh…the Paul Mackenzie who saved Robert III’s life. Why?”

She didn’t reply. She pushed off the desk and rolled to her computer. Her hands were so cold and shook so much that she was hitting the wrong keys as she typed “Paul Mackenzie wars of independence.” Wikipedia was not a reliable source, but it was a hell of a lot faster than searching through the archives. She could always confirm later.

Paul Mackenzie, born February 15, 1311 in Eilean Donan to Angus Mackenzie and a woman presumed to be Euphemia of Ross, though the identity of the mother is disputed by historians since there are other sources claiming Euphemia’s presence in Ross at the same time. Other sources claimed she had died, possibly of childbirth.

Rogene’s head spun, and the world darkened around her. Suddenly she lost the ability to move her limbs. She knew distantly she might be about to faint, but she held on to the handle of her chair and willed herself to stay alert.

“Can you please find the source…the church registry for Paul Mackenzie’s birth?”

“Why?” Anusua asked, but already she was typing the search into the archives database. “I think it’s correct. He was born in February; I have the same date in mind.”

“Just to check that Wikipedia has it right.”

Deep breath in and out. Needles prickled in her lower belly—it had been happening on and off for a couple of weeks, and she thought it must be from the shock of returning to her own time and adjusting to modern food. But could it be another symptom of pregnancy?

“Yes, Wikipedia is correct.” Anusua chuckled. “For once.”

“And the mother?”

Anusua peered at the screen. “Euphemia of Ross. Why?”

How could that be? Oh dear God. If Rogene had traveled in time and married Angus, and if she was pregnant now and Paul Mackenzie was indeed her son, why had she had the wrong mother written in the registry?

But if it wasn’t Rogene who’d traveled back in time, who would have written that message, and why? He is not marrying her. He is marrying you.

“Okay. Seriously. What’s going on?” Anusua said.

Rogene shook her head. “Can you please send the links to both documents to my email? I’m not feeling well. I need to go lie down but I’d like to take another look at them at home.”

“Sure. Yeah, you don’t look well, hun. Go lie down. Eat something.”

Rogene took her purse and walked out of the office. Outside, the warm summer air calmed her down a little. All this was strange, but she shouldn’t jump to conclusions before she knew and was sure. She hadn’t felt well since she’d come back, and her nipples were hurting like crazy.

What if this was another indication she was pregnant?

First things first, she needed to buy a home pregnancy test. Maybe a dozen, just to be sure. As she sat on her bike and rode to a drug store, she wondered if it wouldn’t harm the baby that she rode a bike? And what about last week when she’d had a couple of glasses of wine to celebrate her graduation?

And the junk food she’d eaten. She didn’t take any vitamins; she should start…

On weak legs, she went into the drug store and bought a heap of pregnancy tests from different brands. When she got home, David was in the second bedroom, having an interview for college via Skype. She heard him talk and the other voice, computerized.

Thank God she didn’t have to explain anything to him. She went right into the bathroom and quickly read the instructions. Pee on the stick, not rocket science. She did the deed and put the test on the vanity to wait for a couple of minutes. She set the timer on her clock and fired up her email program to click on the links that Anusua had sent.

She opened the images of the scanned documents and zoomed in, studying every letter, every detail, and every hook of the calligraphy. There was even a scratched part, just like when she’d made a blot and had to scratch away the upper layer of the parchment.

And then the inscription was in English. Modern English! Did she write this message to herself to go back in time? What other explanation was there?