Page 32 of Highlander Unraveled
“Nobody,” I whispered, feeling guilty for having said that. Logan and Saor were everything me.
“I know ye’ve no reason to trust me. Less reason to trust me than the woman who is helping ye, I get that. ButIneed your help. Moira could be in grave danger.”
“Moira?” I knew she was in grave danger if she ended up in the wrong time, but she was nearly two hundred years in the future from the time when she was an heiress to the throne. And yes, there had been some fear when Rory’s son had brought the MacDonald to Gealach, and the man had nearly put two and two together, but with Rory and Moira making up a new identity and the necklace safely locked away, Moira was safe. And Shona, no one knew who she was. Her already established position as the Lady of the Wood kept her secure.
“Aye.” He sat back, looking with irritation in the direction of Mrs. MacDonald who was still washing dishes. I got the feeling he wanted her to disappear. “Have ye heard of the time jumpers?” he whispered.
I’d had to crane my neck to hear what he said; I wasn’t so sure I’d actually wanted to hear that. Time jumpers? I pressed my lips together and shook my head, dismissing him. “Sounds like a science fiction novel.”
He frowned at me and leaned forward again. “Let us both not pretend that I dinna know where ye came from, lassie. We both know ye’re not from around here.”
“I’ve made no pretense of hiding where I’m from. Even Mrs. MacDonald knows. I’m from the U.S., Washington, D.C.,” I said, still denying what I knew he knew.
“Right.” He rolled his eyes toward the ceiling and took a long swallow from his wine. “Let’s just say, for fun, that ye may have once been from the States, but now ye’re from somewhere else.”
“I came here today from Drumnadrochit.” I pushed the picture back across the table. “She drove me, you can ask her.”
Mr. McAlister visibly gritted his teeth. “What year is Moira in?”
Wow. I hadn’t expected him to just come right out with that. And I supposed I was getting nowhere denying it. He didn’t believe me and even though I didn’t trust him, maybe I could confide in him, as long as I tread lightly, because just maybe, he knew how I could get back there.
I waited a moment, letting the air between us fill with tension. By the sink, Mrs. MacDonald was still humming, though I could see she was working on the pot. Not long until she was completely done. I blew out a breath and blurted, “1544.”
McAlister sat back in his chair and let out a long, weary filled sigh. He crossed his arms over his chest, shaking his head. “This is not good.”
“Why?” I asked.
“As I mentioned, there are time jumpers.” He looked exasperated that I didn’t seem to understand what the hell time jumpers were. “Ye’ve not heard of them, seriously?”
I shook my head, bristling. “Honestly.”
“They are the keeper of secrets. A society of sorts, with the ability to time travel whenever they please. They hold a dear secret of our mutual friends.”
This was too much; I just wanted to go home. “Behind the Ayreshire lassies’ birth?”
“Ye know of it?” he murmured, his gaze once more flicking to Mrs. MacDonald.
She hummed as she wiped the dishes dry, clinking them as she put them back in the cabinets.
I nodded, and murmured the poem I’d heard months before. “One of red and one of black, born at Ayreshire and swept back, lost forever the princesses of time, the last of the king’s most sacred line.”
Moira and Shona were the Ayreshire lassies. The firstborn—Moira—was given a pendant that belonged to her mother, a golden circle to represent the crown with a lion etched on top of it to show the joined houses of Scotland and England. Their blood could have united the countries, but their mother feared for their lives. Legend stated that their father was a prisoner of the English King Edward III. If Edward had known King David had children, he would have killed Moira and Shona to keep his crown.
“Aye.” Mr. McAlister let out a breath I’d not realized he was holding.
“But…” I shook my head and swallowed down the last dregs of wine in my glass. “They don’t know anything.”
“Everyone thought it was safer that way.”
“Who is everyone?”
“Their mother. Me.”
Their mother… I still remembered to this day how devastated they’d looked when they found out who they were and that they’d never get a chance to meet their parents. “Who are you?”
He glanced at Mrs. MacDonald and then back at me. “I think it best we talk later.”
“Why?”
