Page 27 of Seductive Scot
Rhys’s and Maggie’s eyes locked in a show of support and mutual understanding, and a surprising jolt of jealousy shot through Reikart.
“When you meet my mom, you won’t be able to deny it. When Aunt Grace realized her mistake, she brought Mom back through time. It had only been weeks in your time, but for Mom, in our time, it had been years. A lifetime, really.”
“I do nae believe ye,” Deirdre said, her voice shaking with obvious fear.
“It doesn’t matter if you believe my brother or not,” Reikart interrupted. Deirdre turned terror-filled eyes on him. That same odd compulsion to comfort her slammed into him. “It’s true, nonetheless. Not only will you see it in how our mother has aged but we can tell you things, things that have not happened but will come to pass.”
Deirdre turned to her sister. “Maggie, this is madness!”
Maggie scowled at her sister. “We need that cross, Deirdre. We need that cross because unless their other brother Ian has traveled through time and brought the cross back with him—”
“I don’t know if he has,” Reikart confirmed.
Maggie nodded. “Then the cross Algien currently possesses is the only way we can all get back to the time Rhys came from. Will you aid us?”
“Aid ye?” Deirdre looked more like a trapped animal now than a deer. She jerked Maggie behind her in an attempt to shield her, it seemed, from Reikart and Rhys. “Aye, Sister, I’ll aid ye.” She turned an accusing gaze on Rhys. “Baron Bellecote was right! Ye have put a spell on my sister! Ye must be the Devil’s cohort!”
“I’ve been accused of being a lot of things by a lot of women, but being a cohort of the Devil is a new one,” Rhys said.
“We’re wasting time,” Dermot burst out, to which Reikart wholeheartedly agreed. “I do nae doubt that Shona and Grace are well protected, but I’d rather reach them before Donald. Are ye coming with us or nae, Deirdre?”
Reikart could tell she was no longer in any state of mind to be cooperative, and a quick look with Rhys confirmed his brother had realized the same thing. She had to come. She might be their only hope.
“Sorry,” he said to Deirdre and Maggie. He stepped toward Deirdre and picked her up to hold her securely against his chest. Her loud protest rang in his ears, and he had to grab her wrists when she attempted to punch him, much to Rhys’s amusement. “Which way to the horses?” he asked his uncle Dermot who chuckled in response.
“Ye will blend in just fine,” Dermot said. “Follow me.”
As Reikart started to move, he winked at Maggie. “I promise to take care of her.”
“I’ll remember that, Reikart McCaim. I take vows verra seriously.”
Chapter Nine
We make ourselves a place apart
Behind light words that tease and flout,
But oh, the agitated heart
Till someone finds us really out.
~ Robert Frost, “Revelation”
“Ye can release me now,” Deirdre said, unclenching her teeth to raise her voice to Reikart.
Either he had been purposely ignoring her, which she suspected, or he could not hear her over the thudding of the hooves of the destrier they rode upon as it galloped through the woods behind Dermot who rode several paces, and out of earshot, ahead of them. Deirdre still could hardly believe her sister had simply stood by and watched, not even protested, as this man had carried Deirdre off screaming. Maggie had even waved goodbye to her and called out that she loved her.
“That’s the first sensible thing you’ve said since we left,” Reikart finally replied. “But if I move my arm from your waist, how do I know you won’t try to jump off this horse?”
She hated feeling so helpless. It was the same vulnerability she’d felt since the day her father had killed himself and their family had been completely and utterly ostracized. First she’d felt vulnerable, and then seething anger had consumed her. She’d been determined to get back what they’d lost, to show the people snubbing them that they could not treat her family that way. But she wasn’t about to admit to this man that he was making her feel vulnerable, nor that she honestly had a hard time picturing him as the Devil’s hand. He seemed so…so…well, so honorable and good. Yet, if he was those things, then that would mean what he claimed, what his brother claimed, what her own sister claimed—Deirdre stopped the ridiculous thought. Time travel was impossible.
“Does your silence mean you won’t attempt to jump off the horse?”
God’s teeth, the man had the most alluring voice. Like the Devil’s voice, no doubt. Beckoning. Persuasive. Calling on one to forget oneself.
“Hello? Deirdre?”
He also had the oddest way of putting words together.
