Page 63 of Cottage in the Mist
“And Jeff,” Bram asked, a small glimmer of hope dispelling the darkness. “He’s the kind of man who’d offer his aid?”
“Aye,” Ranald nodded. “That he is.”
Lily fought against the hopeless despair that washed through her. She wanted Bram so badly she could almost feel his arms around her. Feel his lips pressed against hers. But these were memories and no matter how dear, they weren’t helping her at all.
Instead she forced herself to concentrate on the feel of Jeff’s hands. The warmth of the room, the shadows and light that were the heart of Duncreag. She focused on the image of Katherine and Iain. Katherine laughing up at her husband. She’d made it back to him, not once, but twice. Her love had led the way. Just as Jeff’s love for his sister had brought him to her. And in turn Elaine’s love had brought him safely home again.
Love.
Love was the key. And in an instant Lily saw the truth of it. Katherine loved Iain. Jeff loved Katherine. And she… she loved Bram Macgillivray. It might be insane. It might even be impossible, but it was true nevertheless. She loved him. And as long as there was breath in her body, she wasn’t going to let him die.
She tightened her fingers on Jeff’s, her mind reaching out—reaching back. For a moment it seemed she teetered on a brink and then the world went black, an icy wind cutting into her from every side, shrieking through the darkness, frigid fingers squeezing her heart and her lungs. Panic threatened. It hadn’t been like this with Bram, but then they’d always been together.
This time she was alone.
And then as if in answer, she felt the strength of Jeff’s grasp. And she clung to it even as the cold wind clawed at her, trying to tear her away. It tugged at her, pulled her… and then, as quickly as it had begun, it stopped, the only sound the pounding of her heart and the soft hiss of her breath.
She opened her eyes to the sight of tapestry adorned walls and a huge canopied bed curtained in dark velvet. The floor was covered with straw. And…
“Jeff?” a soft voice cried, the sound filled with wonder. “Oh my God, is that you?”
Lily turned toward the source of the voice. A slender woman in a pale gown with embroidered sleeves and a silver cord tied at her waist stood at the entrance to the room. Her golden hair fell in waves over her shoulders, her gray eyes flashing with delight.
“Kitty,” Jeff breathed, pulling his hands from Lily’s as he moved to embrace his sister.
Lily struggled for breath, her vision swimming, even as her mind presented all that she was seeing. They’d done it. They’d beaten the darkness. They’d traveled through time. Her heart rejoiced even as her head spun with the enormity of it all.
She tried to say something, but her mouth refused to work, her body tingling as the darkness encroached again. She tried to fight, but the pull was too strong and with a slow sigh, she slid bonelessly to the floor, her last thought that she’d been too quick to celebrate. That perhaps the darkness had won after all.
21
“You’re awake.” Katherine’s face swam into view as Lily forced herself to sit up. She way lying on a bed, velvet coverings soft beneath her fingers. There were candles flickering in standing candelabras and tapestries on the walls and quite clearly she was no longer in her own century.
“What happened?” she asked, her voice coming out on a croak.
“You fainted.” Katherine’s tone was kind. “Not surprisingly. It’s no picnic being jerked through time. Especially when you’re doing it on your own.”
“But I had Jeff.” Lily frowned, still trying to shake the cobwebs from her head. She glanced around the room, but Katherine’s brother was nowhere in sight.
“True enough. But you didn’t have Bram.” Katherine held out a pewter tankard. “Have a sip of this. It’ll help clear your mind.”
Lily took the cup and sipped, then screwed up her face in protest. “What is this?”
“A mixture of herbs and a little bit of scotch. I’m afraid this part of Scotland doesn’t run to the best in tea. And the herbs will help restore your strength. I’ve actually become quite goodat mixing potions.” She laughed. “Which makes me sound like either a witch or a tottering old fool. Welcome to the fifteenth century.”
Lily shuddered as she swallowed, but forced herself to take another sip. At least one thing hadn’t changed. Scottish restoratives were still laced with whisky. And despite the horrible taste and the strangeness of her situation, Lily found herself smiling. “I’m actually feeling a lot better.”
She shifted, the pounding in her head reminding her that she was improved but not completely back to normal. “Is it always like this? Travelling alone, I mean? The first time I was with Bram I was injured and out of it. So I can’t really say how I felt.” She felt herself blush. “Well, at least about the travelling. And the next time was more like a dream.”
“When you warned him about the riders in the canyon?”
Lily nodded. “And then the last time, at the cottage, he wasn’t there—and then he was.” She felt herself go hot again at the memory and Katherine’s smile was knowing.
“I understand. It was never hard for me until the very last time. Iain thought I was gone for good. He’d sent me back to my time, you see. I was injured and he was afraid I’d never be whole again if I stayed. But once I was better and worked it all out, all I wanted to do was get back to him.”
“Which you did.” The answer was obvious, but Lily needed to say it out loud. “Despite what he wanted, you still came back.”
“Yes. Nothing was going to keep me away from him.”
