Page 17 of Beloved Enemy
As fanciful and as far-fetched as the notion was—time-travel, she’d labeled it, similar to Autumn—as much as it consumed him for quite a while—so much so that he lent only half an ear to her rambling—it did not offer Reid any relief from the feel of her in his arms. Or her scent. Or, when she turned her face toward him to softly communicate her outrage and her skepticism, her bonny profile.
He did, however, latch onto one thing said.
“It was funny, though—or sinister maybe, now that I think about it—how the woman insisted I take the necklace, like she was all creepy about it.”
“Ye ken the amulet has power?” He asked.
“No. I mean, I don’t know. That’s not possible, right?”
He wasn’t sure anymore whatwaspossible.
“Mayhap ye need to rid yerself of the stone,” he suggested, not wanting to take chances himself, being so close to it. “Inter it somewhere or burn it.”
Charlotte wrapped her fingers tightly around the piece, exhibiting a wee bit of desperation when she refused, “I can’t. I won’t. If this thing is responsible for moving me seven hundred years through time, at the moment it’s my only hope to go back.”
God’s bluid.“Seven hundred years?” It only made the concept all the more illusory.
“Yes.”
He had questions. Who wouldn’t? About what life looked like seven hundred years in the future, but to ask them would be akin to wholeheartedly embracing the truth of it, which he was not at all ready to do.
They left the mountains behind and rode along the edge of a dense forest, the towering trees casting short, dark shadows in the afternoon sun. The terrain flattened out, offering a clear view of the rolling hills that stretched out all around them, dotted with patches of heather and thistle, and grazing deer that scattered when they realized the Nicholsons’ presence. A narrow, winding stream cut through the landscape, its water sparkling in the sunlight as it flowed toward the distant horizon. While Eoin and his scouts rode far and wide, Reid and the remainder of his party kept a tight formation, their eyes sharp as they scanned their surroundings, searching for any signs of the reivers they pursued.
Upon the level ground, they picked up speed, and for a while Lachlan and Fergus rode fairly close to Reid and Charlotte, until they passed through another glen and were forced to slow and proceed cautiously in a single file pattern.
“I might suggest ye dinna speak to any other about yer time-traveling ways,” he thought to advise Charlotte. “Dinna let others hear ye.” He knew some of his men, those that had been present inside the hall at Kingswood on the day that Marcus had arrived in answer to Reid’s summons, already had suspicions of witchcraft and sorcery, possibly having overheard some of the couple’s frantic conversation. Tavish, certainly, had witnessed their vanishing into thin air.
“They’re notmyways,” she argued, rather than simply agreeing with some measure of prudence. “I had nothing to do with it. I didn’t ask to be transported through time.”
“Aye, aye, but enough now,” he said with more curtness than was necessary. “Let it sit for a while.” He was still trying to make sense of the idea.
“Sit for a while?” She challenged, unperturbed by his sharpness. “I want to go home. Do you have any thoughts on how I might—oh God, now what? Who’s that?” She asked, at the sight of two riders coming hard in their direction.
“'Tis Eoin and Simeon,” he answered, clearly with better eyesight than she. “The scouts.”
Reid held up his hand and made a fist and the party came to a halt. Eoin and Simeon’s fast approach advised something ahead was amiss.
Drawing his courser to an abrupt stop directly in front of Reid, Eoin announced without preamble, “Straight ahead, a mile and a half, half a dozen of them. They’ve halted in a thicket, seems they might be waiting on others.”
Reid nodded in receipt of the report and ordered Eoin. “Take one unit to a position west of them. I’ll bring the others toward an eastern position. And we’ll break off there, some heading further north. Archers on the fringe. Let’s wait and watch, see if they’re joined and we can’t get them all at once. Heed the sound of the horn,” he directed.
With that, the Nicholsons continued on, riding another half a mile before they broke up into two groups, Eoin leading half the troops toward the east.
“You’re going to kill more people,” Charlotte predicted glumly.
“If needed,” he allowed. Supposing they would have an element of surprise, and because their numbers were vastly superior, he suspected they might keep at least one alive to ferret out information. Reivers were known to be cunning and ruthless opportunists, preying on the chaos of war and unrest. They were skilled in navigating stealthily, striking swiftly and disappearing into the rugged terrain. Reid knew that capturing one could yield valuable insights into their movements, strategies, and potential alliances. Keeping one alive could expose the extent of their operations and perhaps even reveal the identity of any greater power who might be secretly supporting them.
“Well, I don’t want to be a part of that,” Charlotte fretted. “I’ve seen enough. Maybe...can you just leave me here?”
Frankly, he would like nothing more. He didn’t need or want the distraction of her, or witchcraft, or any kind of dark magic. Certainly, he didn’t want to be distracted overlong by her exquisite face or those plaintive green eyes—black smudges notwithstanding—or her lithe body, which he’d judged easily and often in a short time as having the power to ensnare a man.
But he wasn't completely without a soul, meaning to neglect her safety, abandoning a stranger not of this time to her own questionable devices. More pertinently, if there was any chance to find out what had become of Marcus, Charlotte O’Rourke possibly presented the greatest chance of doing so. He couldn’t risk losing a lead that might unravel the mystery of Marcus’s fate.
“'Tis nae safe,” was all he said. “Let us see to these reivers first.”
When Simeon in their party informed Reid they’d come within a quarter-mile of where the thieves had been found, Reid called another halt, instructing his men to spread out and make themselves invisible in the forest of trees. He directed his destrier into a dense thicket where the foliage was thick enough to conceal their presence.
Reid slid off his horse first, then reached up to help Charlotte down, his grip firm around her waist as he brought her to the ground.
