Page 43 of Here in Your Arms
“Rose, ye canna return to Dunmara, nae yet,” he reiterated.
She nodded once, a small, resigned motion, then let out a heavy sigh. With deliberate movements, she unfurled his breacan from around her shoulders and pressed it back into his hands. “I agree it warrants investigation,” she said, her tone distant, almost detached. “And that is best done here, where Margaret was last.”
When she lifted her face to his, the haunted look had faded, replaced by something sharper. Determination. Conviction, mayhap.
“I want answers as much as you do,” she said, her voice steady now. “But now more than ever, simply so I can prove to you and everyone else that I am not Maragaret and I’m not pretending to be, and more importantly, that I amnota liar.”
Chapter Ten
Rose marched back into the hall, her pulse still racing from her encounter with Tiernan on the battlements. The warmth of the keep did little to settle the lingering chill in her bones, nor did it ease the agitation curling deep in her stomach. Her eyes immediately sought out Emmy, who looked as if she were just about to stand. She paused, her hand on the table, when she noticed Rose’s approach.
Thank God, Leana was nowhere in sight.
Giving Emmy a clearI need to talk to youlook, which settled Emmy fully into her seat, Rose slipped into the chair beside her and leaned in close, lowering her voice. “I finally pieced it together. The journal I was reading about—when I was still in my time, when I was still in the archive—belonged to Margaret. Not just any Margaret—this Margaret. Margaret de Moubray. The one who was betrothed to Tiernan. The one who just died.” She shook her head, her voice dropping even lower. “I didn’t realize it until tonight. I knew the name Margaret was common, but I never made the connection. Not until Leana said his name.” With greater urgency, she revealed, “Margaret wrote about Tiernan.”
Emmy’s brows pulled together in concern, her face arrested with astonishment.. “Oh, my God.”
“I know!” Rose let out a breath, pushing her hands through her hair. “And I don’t think Tiernan believed me. But I don’t blame him—I wouldn’t believe me either. The whole thing isinsane.” She pressed her lips together briefly, then admitted, “But I agree with him. I can’t leave yet. The answers are here, Emmy. I know they are.” She reached for Emmy’s hand, gripping it tightly. “Stay with me. Please.”
Emmy’s expression softened, but she shook her head. “Rose, I... I can’t—I couldn’t. Brody would—”
“Jesus, Emmy,” Rose snapped, frustration and anxiety sparking too harshly. “Have you assimilated so much that you let a man dictate what you can and cannot do?” The moment the words left her mouth, she regretted them.
Emmy’s jaw tightened, her back straightening. Her eyes flashed—not with anger, but with something colder.
“I wasgoing to saythat Brody would be an anxious wreck, knowing I was here without him,” she said evenly. “If I asked—if I insisted—he would allow it. ButIwouldn’t do that tohim, knowing it would keep him from sleeping at night.” She paused, letting the words settle between them. “In his mind, he’s the only one who can keep me safe.”
Rose swallowed hard, shame curling in her stomach. “I’m sorry, Emmy. That was awful of me.” She shook her head, squeezing her friend’s hand. “I’m not myself, I’m in shambles. It’s just the thought of not having you here...”
Emmy sighed, her expression softening once more. “It’s fine. I’m sorry that I—or we—can’t stay. But Dunmara is Brody’s home, and he’s only just gotten it back on its feet after the war. He wants to be there.”
“I understand. Of course.”
Emmy studied her for a long moment, then said gently, “You don’thaveto stay here, you know. Don’t feel like you do.”
Rose nodded automatically, but the response felt hollow. “I know.”
Emmy’s gaze didn’t waver. “But I don’t want you to feel like you have to leave either.”
That, too, should have been simple. But it wasn’t.
Emmy nudged her lightly. “You don’t like it here, do you?”
Rose hesitated, then shook her head. “Not really.” Not at all, actually. Navigating the fourteenth century was difficult enoughfor a girl from the twentieth century, but it was so much easier at Dunmara. “Not at all,” she confessed. “I think this place and everyone in it is awful.”
Emmy arched a brow. “So what’s the problem? Come home to Dunmara with us.”
Rose groaned, rubbing a hand down her face. “I don’t know! I just—I don’twantto be here, with all the suspicious stares, with Leana clinging to me like I’m going to disappear at any second, with Tiernan looking at me like I’m some kind of infestation—”
Emmy raised a brow, her mood lightened, holding back a grin. “An infestation?”
Rose shot her a glare. “You know what I mean.”
Emmy hummed, barely suppressing a smirk. “Okay, so you don’t want to be here. Come home with us, Rose,” she repeated, enunciating the words slowly.
Rose sighed, meeting Emmy’s green eyes. “I need answers, Emmy. And I believe they’re here.” Pressing her fingers to her temples, she exhaled sharply. “Can you just—” Her voice wavered before she groaned and squeezed Emmy’s hand. “Can you decide for me? Just tell me what to do.”
Emmy’s brows lifted slightly, her hands warm and steady against Rose’s own. “That’s not how this works, Rose.”
