Chapter 9
The Isle of Eight Lairds—1651
“Paton said ye wished to see me?”
For the second time in a matter of weeks, Maddock stepped into Raudrich’s bedchamber to visit with his injury-laden friend. The first set of injuries had been caused by the newest member of The Eight, Marcus, who’d broken his nose after finding him in bed with an unknowing Laurel. The second had come only days ago at the hand of his fiancée who’d run him straight through with a sword in order to save him from Machara.
Maddock neared Raudrich’s bed as he shifted to prop himself up.
“Aye, I just wanted to tell ye that if ye ever listen to another one of Laurel’s foolish orders again, I shall break both yer kneecaps.”
Maddock laughed and crossed his arms casually over his chest.
“Ye do know that she saved us all, aye? If we hadna agreed to help her, she wouldna have been able to go through with her plan. And if she hadna gone through with her plan, she’d be dead, and ye’d be dead, and Machara would be free. Thus, we would all be dead.”
“Do ye think ye could’ve used the word ‘dead’ any more times in that sentence, Maddock?”
He shook his head. “I doona think the point can be overemphasized. She saved our necks, Raudrich. Ye ought to be grateful for her.”
Maddock watched as Raudrich grunted and ground his teeth.
“I am grateful to her, but I’m angry at every last one of ye for willingly putting her in danger.”
He’d hated it at the time. He cared for Laurel immensely, but he’d seen sense in her plan, and he wasn’t willing to apologize for his part in it.
“Aye, we know ye are angry. We’ve all heard the same from Marcus. ’Twas the right thing to do, and I’d do it again. Ye know that.”
“Knock knock.”
Maddock turned toward the sound of Laurel’s voice in the doorway and smiled at her as she entered.
“Yer fiancé is daft if he thinks any of us regret doing as ye bid us to.”
Laurel walked up next to him, winked at her soon-to-be husband, and answered him. “Yes, well. I don’t regret it either.”
“Not even stabbing me with a sword, lass?”
Maddock laughed as Laurel dismissed him with her hand.
“Not even that. Now, Maddock and I are going to leave you to rest. I need to speak with him about something.”
Before Maddock could say anything else, Laurel latched onto his hand and began to pull him out into the hall.
Once the bedroom door was shut between them and Raudrich, she spoke. “Maddock, you know not only where I’m from but when, right?”
The Eight had known for years—ever since Raudrich’s fast friendship with Sydney—that there were out-of-time lassies who often found themselves in Scotland at the hands of a witch none of them had ever met.
“Aye, I do. Why?”
“Well, I was hoping you might be willing to travel to Cagair and help escort my sister, my mother, and Marcus’ dad back here. I trust you completely.”
It pleased him to hear that he had Laurel’s trust, and after his conversation with Harry, he was especially eager to meet Laurel’s sister.
“O’course, I can. I’ll leave at once.”
Laurel raised one brow and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “You agreed to that too quickly. Why?”
He smiled mischievously. “If yer sister is half as pleasant as ye are, her presence will only bring more light to this castle.”
She looked at him knowingly. “She’s taken, Maddock.”
“Married? Harry dinna tell me that.”
Laurel looked surprised as she tilted her head gently to the side. “Harry? How does he know about Kate?”
“He only knows what Marcus told him.”
“Ah.” Laurel nodded, understanding. “Well, she’s not married, but she’s been dating the same man for several years now.”
Maddock smiled, his hope resurfacing. “If she isna married, she isna taken. Besides, ye said nothing of this man coming back. I canna see how anyone can maintain a relationship with one of them living in our time and the other living hundreds of years in the future.”
“Fair point. I guess with everything that’s been going on, I’d not given much thought to what Kate might do about Dillon. But, you don’t even know her. How can you be so sure that you’ll like her so much?”
“I canna be sure, but if she’s anything like ye, I shall like her verra much indeed.”
Laurel smiled and leaned in to hug him. “Oh, Maddock, you’re my favorite, too. Be careful, okay? And don’t tell Paton what I said about the favorite thing since he’s already agreed to go with you.”
His smile disappeared at the realization that she’d not asked him first. “Favorite, ye say? Surely, if ’twas true, ye would’ve spoken to me before Paton.”
“I only spoke to Paton first because I saw him first. I couldn’t find you. So, listen. I really am sorry I have to ask you guys to do this anyway. Sydney had originally told me she and Callum would see them here, but she just received the happy news that she’s pregnant, and I don’t want her to travel that far while she’s expecting. You do know the way to Cagair, don’t you?”
He’d not traveled nearly as much as Raudrich, but his knowledge of Scotland was still wide.
“Aye, lass. I know where ’tis. Do ye mean for us to meet them in the Cagair of this time or theirs?”
Laurel shrugged. “That’s up to you, really. Sydney and Callum will still be there and will help introduce them to everything, but if you’d like to go forward while you’re there and see what it’s like, I can’t think of any reason why you shouldn’t.”
He definitely wanted to go forward.
Boston—Two Days Later—Present Day
Just as we were getting ready to head to the airport, Laurel called with a huge piece of news that she somehow neglected to tell me during our last phone call—she was engaged to Raudrich.
While I was genuinely thrilled for her, my own relationship status had me about ready to pull my hair out.
For days, Dillon had been trying to get ahold of me. For the last ten days, his name had popped up on my phone. Each time I sent it to voicemail.
“Don’t you want to answer that? You were the one to end it, weren’t you? What could he have done to cause you to be so cold to him?”
With all of our bags loaded in the car downstairs, there was just one thing left for me to do before we headed to the airport—doctor up the coffees I’d picked up with the potion Morna had sent with Mr. Crinkles’ travel documents.
“I don’t want to talk about it, Mom. It’s over and nothing good would come from Dillon and me rehashing things. Here.” I quickly swirled her coffee and extended it in her direction. “You carry this. I’ll grab Mr. Crinkles. Let’s get out of here.”
With any luck, we’d arrive in Edinburgh with both Mom and David fully onboard with the concept of time travel.