Page 45 of Stolen Time

“It’s all right,” I said gently. “I know I shouldn’t pry.” I hesitated, wondering if I should leave it alone…or whether I should send a clear signal that I was willing to wait as long as necessary for his family to get things straightened out.

But that wasn’t a very smart stance to take, not when I knew I should be working a lot harder to get back to my own time. Instead, I’d given up after a couple of tries.

Would I have made much more of an attempt if Seth hadn’t been here?

Well, I already knew the answer to that question.

His fingers tightened on mine, just for a second, and then he let go. “It’s not a matter of prying. That was an honest question to ask. But I’m just not able to say anything else, except that I hope this won’t take very long.” A pause before he murmured, “I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” I assured him. If we’d kissed even once, then I might have been more comfortable going on my tiptoes so I could touch my lips to his cheek, just to reinforce the impression that I understood and wouldn’t press him on the matter.

But we hadn’t even hugged, and I found myself constrained by the time he lived in, by my limited understanding of interactions between men and women in this world. SomehowI knew that when we kissed, he would need to be the one to initiate the embrace, not me.

His expression cleared a little. “Thank you for being understanding.”

I offered him a smile that I hoped appeared at least halfway genuine, and we resumed our walk.

When we got back to the picnic area, Seth fetched the chocolate cookies from the trunk — they were a little warm and melty, but not too bad — and we shared one or two. However, I guessed we both could tell the magic had gone out of the afternoon, because afterward we immediately packed up and drove down the mountain.

As always, he walked me to the door, but I knew this time there was no chance of a goodbye kiss…and I knew the bright afternoon sunlight that did nothing to conceal us wasn’t the reason why.

Instead, I stood on the porch and waved as he drove off, then made myself go inside. Delicious aromas wafted through the house, telling me Ruth was cooking up something special for Sunday dinner.

Maybe by the time to sit down and eat rolled around, I’d actually have an appetite.

“I’m back,” I said, sticking my head in the kitchen.

Ruth half-turned away from the stove, where she was stirring some kind of sauce, and offered me a smile. “How was your picnic?”

“It was fine.” I hesitated there, wondering whether I should say anything else.

Then again, I wasn’t going to get any answers if I didn’t ask the questions.

“Seth is going to be busy this week with some family business,” I ventured. “Do you know anything about that?”

Something in Ruth’s expression went blank, almost as though she was doing her best to come up with a response that would provide some kind of answer to my question without giving too much away. “Oh,” she said, sounding a little too blithe, “his cousin Abigail is turning twenty-one tomorrow. That’s an important birthday for us McAllisters, so the whole family is gathering to wish her well.”

Those words made a cold shock run down my spine. On the surface, they sounded innocent enough, but I knew better.

Abigail had looked much younger than that to me, maybe as young as seventeen or eighteen, so her being theprima-in-waiting hadn’t seemed that big a deal. But if she was going to be twenty-one tomorrow, that meant…

…that meant the eligible men in the clan would have to meet with her, share the consort kiss, to see if they were the one.

And of course Seth would be eligible. He was the right age and wasn’t married or engaged. Having a tenuous connection to me certainly wouldn’t be enough to prevent him from doing his duty to the McAllisters.

My stomach churned. The mere thought of him kissing anyone else was bad enough, but theprima-in-waiting?

What if he turned out to be her consort?

“My dear, are you all right?” Ruth asked. She set her wooden spoon down on a ceramic rest near the stove and came closer to me. “You’ve gone terribly pale.”

“I’m — I’m fine,” I managed. Obviously, there was no way in the world I could tell her what was troubling me. Doing so would only let her know I possessed far more information about the McAllister clan — and witches in general — than any civilianpossibly could. “I suppose being out in the sun all afternoon has caught up with me.”

Her brows pulled together. “Then I think you should go upstairs and lie down for a while. I’ll come fetch you when it’s time for dinner.”

At another time, I might have told her she didn’t need to go to all that effort. Right then, however, I could only seize the opportunity to be alone with my thoughts.

“Thank you,” I said faintly, then hurried out of the room.

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