Bree stomped towards the village, trying desperately to hide her fear. She heard Alex’s footsteps behind her but refused to look round. The man had told her a crazy pack of lies. He was deranged. He must be. What other explanation was there?

That he’s telling the truth, a little voice whispered in her head. That he has been all along.

But that was way too frightening to think about. As she drew closer to the village she saw that the houses were small thatched cottages with unworked stonework for the walls. The doors were tightly closed and there was not a soul around. A cat hissed at her and then shot under a hay wagon.

Bree paused, feeling uneasy. Where was everyone? And why did this place look like it belonged in some medieval-themed tourist park?

Alex came abreast of her. “This is Little Howe, part of Lord Donald’s demesne.”

She ignored him. Spotting a house that looked a little bigger than the others she walked up to the door and knocked. When there was no answer, she knocked again.

This time she heard hesitant footsteps on the other side and then the door was pulled open a crack. A tall man with a round belly looked out at her.

“We dinna want any trouble,” he said. “We are peaceful folk here in Little Howe and we all paid our rent on time.”

Bree blinked, a little taken aback. “I...um...I’m sorry to bother you,” she began. “But could I use your phone? I need to call the police.”

The man stared at her. “Pardon me?”

“Your phone? May I use it?”

The man looked at her in puzzlement. “I’m sorry, my lady, but I dinna ken what ye are asking. We have some freshly baked bread and ale if ye are hungry.”

“Thanks, but no, I don’t want food. I just need to get hold of the police. If you don’t have a phone could you point me in the direction of the nearest police station? Or even better, would you be able to drive me there? I’ve got money.”

The man didn’t answer. He was looking at Bree as if she’d just sprouted horns and a tail. Bree glanced back at Alex who was waiting on the other side of the street with the horse.

She swallowed and then looked back at the villager. She couldn’t believe she was about to ask this. “Could you...could you tell me what year it is, please?”

“The year? Dinna ye know? Tis the year of our Lord 1535, my lady.”

Bree’s stomach did a little flip. 1535? What the hell? She ran a shaking hand over her face. Oh god. Oh god, oh god, oh god.

“Are ye well, my lady?” the villager asked. “Ye have gone a little pale. Would ye like to come in and sit down?”

He opened the door wider but then he spotted Alex and his expression changed to open fear. “I...I...told ye we have already paid!” he cried. “I dinna have anything else to give!” Then, to Bree’s astonishment, he slammed the door in her face.

Bree stared stupidly at the door for a few seconds. Then she backed up so she could get a view of the house. Shutters were quickly pulled across the windows. Puzzled, she turned to Alex.

“What was that all about?”

Alex wore a stony expression that she couldn’t quite read. It almost looked like...shame?

“They willnae speak to ye, lass,” he said in a quiet voice. “Not now they’ve seen me.”

“Why not?”

He didn’t answer her question. Instead he led the horse over. “Do ye believe me now?”

Bree shook her head. “I don’t know. This might all be some trick. Maybe the villager was in on it.”

“A trick? For what purpose? What would we gain from such a subterfuge?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered. “None of this makes any sense.”

“I canna say what Irene MacAskill is up to, or what her purpose is in mixing ye up in all this. All I know is that I didnae mean for ye to be torn from yer home and I will do all in my power to get ye safely back again.” He put his finger under her chin and lifted her face to look at him. “Ye have my word on that. Do ye believe me?”

Bree found herself looking into his eyes. They were a startling gray-blue, like the sky on a stormy day. His skin was almost golden, like his hair. A thrill of electricity went through her at his touch.

“I believe you,” she found herself saying.

He smiled and Bree’s stomach fluttered. Alex stepped back.

“Good. That’s settled then. Come, we’d best get moving.”

“Where are we going?”

Uncertainty flashed across his face for a moment. “To find ye a way home.” He held up a hand to forestall any further questions. “Ye are just going to have to trust me.”

Bree bit back a retort. Trust him? Was he kidding? And yet, what choice did she have?

She nodded. “All right. Thanks.”

“There is nay need for thanks, lass. Step this way.”

Bree balked. She hadn’t ridden a horse since she was six years old and this horse was very, very big. “Isn’t there any other way to get where we’re going?”

“Not unless ye want to walk and I wouldnae recommend it. Dinna worry, Shadow is a mighty fine beast. He willnae let ye fall.”

“I wouldn’t bet on that,” Bree muttered. She approached the horse and patted his silky-black neck. He whickered gently and shook out his mane. Alex was right—he was a very fine horse. “You be good to me and I’ll be good to you, deal?” she said to Shadow.

With a little huffing and puffing she managed to get her foot in the stirrup. All those horse-riding lessons her parents had sent her to seemed to have done little good as she struggled unsuccessfully to swing up into the saddle. Shadow, to his credit, stood stock-still, swinging his head around to watch this ungainly rider trying to mount him.

“Here, lass, let me,” Alex said.

Before she could protest, strong hands cupped her waist and lifted her into the saddle as if she weighed no more than a doll. Bree yelped indignantly, more in surprise than irritation. Alex’s hands felt good when they touched her.

She settled into the saddle then yelped again a second later when Alex swung up behind her, his chest pressed against her back. Bree felt her cheeks coloring and clamped her mouth shut, glad Alex couldn’t see her expression. What had she been expecting? That he would walk whilst she rode? No such luck. It seemed she’d have to put up with this awkward situation until they got where they were going.

Alex didn’t seem embarrassed in the least. He gripped the reins easily in both hands so Bree was effectively trapped within his arms.

“Are ye comfortable, lass?” he asked, his voice so close it brushed against her ear.

“Fine,” Bree replied, sitting bolt upright and clinging onto the cantle of the saddle. “The sooner we get going, the sooner we get to our destination, right?”

“Aye, lass.”

He clucked at Shadow and the horse lurched into motion. They soon left the village behind and followed a muddy track that could hardly be called a road. The lake—loch, she reminded herself—lay to their left and sparkled in the sunlight. Birds swooped low across its surface searching for insects and a phalanx of geese flew overhead in a V formation. It was a beautiful scene and on any other day, Bree would have breathed it all in, enjoying the sight. But not today when she was riding through a strange land and a strange time. And especially not when she had a strange sixteenth century highlander pressing up against her.

She hoped they reached their destination soon.

***

Alex’s mind whirled. Thoughts tumbled through his head like blown leaves. Although he did his best to appear outwardly calm and in control whilst they rode slowly south through the countryside, inside he felt anything but.

A mix of anger and guilt roiled through him. Anger at himself for trusting Irene MacAskill, anger at the fae woman for meddling in his life, anger at Bree for snatching the medallion from him and ruining all his plans. But stronger than the anger was the guilt. What had befallen Bree was his fault. If he’d not stepped out of hiding when she’d discovered him at the museum none of this would have happened. She wouldn’t be here. He wouldn’t have lost the medallion and there might have still been a chance to redeem himself.

He let out a long sigh and felt his anger at both Bree and Irene draining away. There was nobody to blame for any of this but himself.

Always making the wrong decision, eh, Alex? he thought bitterly. Will ye never learn? Now ye have embroiled Bree in the mess of yer life.

Ah, Bree. What was he to make of her? She’d burst into his life from nowhere and turned it upside down. He had sworn to protect her, see her safely home, and he would, even though he had no idea how to do that. His task was made doubly difficult by the fact that having her so close was impairing his ability to think straight. Although she was sitting bolt upright, obviously doing her best to avoid touching him, he couldn’t help watching the way she swayed with the horse’s movements and the way her deep-red hair shimmered in the light.

She was obviously a trained rider, if a little rusty, and she needed very little direction from him to keep her seat. If he’d been any kind of gentlemen he would have offered to walk whilst letting her ride but they had a long way to go and walking would have taken too long.

Or that’s the excuse he told himself, anyway. Deep down he knew he couldn’t resist the thought of having her ride with him, of having her back pressed against his chest every time Shadow jolted them a little.

Lout, he told himself. Ye shouldnae be thinking such things about her. She thinks ye are a worthless thief, remember?

That thought stung a little. For a reason he couldn’t quite explain, he didn’t want Bree thinking badly of him. He didn’t want her to see him the same way everyone else did.

“You still haven’t told me where we’re going,” she said.

Ah, now that was the question wasn’t it?

How was he to see her safely home with the archway broken and Irene MacAskill nowhere to be found? He could take her to Dun Carrick and his family. His mother, Gretchen, had been in the same circumstances as Bree. Maybe she could find a way to send her home.

Alex’s stomach clenched at the thought of returning to Dun Carrick. The laird had made it perfectly clear what would happen to him if he showed his face on Murray lands again. The only other option was to deliver Bree to Lord Donald. He was a nobleman and had some honor left to him, despite all he’d done. If Alex asked him, would he employ all his noble connections to try and locate Irene MacAskill on Alex’s behalf?

Alex had no answers. It was a tangle. One he struggled to unpick.

The afternoon wore slowly on and the landscape began to change into dense woodland. Towering beech trees soared overhead and leaves rustled in the breeze. Bree let out a sigh and leaned back against him for a moment before lurching upright again.

“Sorry,” she muttered. “My back aches a little.”

“Would ye like to stop to rest, lass?” he asked. “We still have many miles to go.”

She turned to look at him and Alex’s breath caught. This close he could see the tiny flecks of amber in her green eyes and trace the curve of her lips. Her cheeks held a flush from the incessant wind.

“No,” she said at last. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”

When she turned away Alex felt a surge of disappointment. How he would have loved to watch her a moment longer, to drink in those lovely eyes, those full lips.

Enough! he told himself savagely. She’s under yer protection, remember?

He shifted uncomfortably in the saddle, cursing himself for his sudden arousal and hoping fervently that the lass didn’t notice. She didn’t appear to but returned to watching the landscape, seemingly lost in thought.

Her beauty would not be lost on Lord Donald, Alex realized, and Lord Donald had a liking for beautiful women. Dare he take Bree back there? What if Lord Donald developed designs on her?

He wouldnae dare, Alex thought. If he touched her, I’d kill him.

This sudden protectiveness surprised him. It surged inside him like a fire. I canna take her to Lord Donald. There’s nay choice. I must take her back to Dun Carrick.

It was the only option even though it made his stomach tighten in dread. An idea came to him and he tugged the reins, turning Shadow a little east. If they were going back to Dun Carrick, they could at least spend a comfortable night before they got there.

“What’s going on?” Bree asked. “Why have we left the path?”

“Ye’ll see.”

She turned to look at him, her lips pursed. There was that expression on her face again, the one full of questions but she kept her peace. “If you say so.”

Alex nodded, feeling unaccountably pleased by her trust in him. “We’ll be there soon, lass, and I’ve a feeling ye will like it.”

A few miles further on they emerged from the trees onto the banks of a large round pond. A thatch-roofed cottage stood on the banks of the pond with a little wooden dock jutting out into the water at which a boat was moored.

Bree gasped. “What is this place? It’s beautiful!”

“A hunting lodge although there will be nobody here now. Come, let’s get inside and fix something to eat.”

He pulled Shadow to a halt outside the lodge and then swung out of the saddle. Holding out a hand to Bree, he helped her down. She all but fell out of the saddle and he had to steady her to stop her falling flat on her face.

“Thanks,” she muttered. “I guess I’m a bit sore from riding all day. Haven’t done that in a long, long time.”

Alex found he couldn’t answer. Damn it all, she was looking at him that way again, that way that made his heart skip. He stepped back and cleared his throat. “This way.”

He led her into the lodge. It belonged to Lord Donald but he rarely came here these days. It was too far from his seat of power and he didn’t trust his men to take care of things long enough to allow him to visit very often. Alex had used the lodge on occasion, particularly when on long-range scouting missions.

Inside was one large room with a hearth on one side and a big bed on the other. It was done out for a lord and far more opulent than any villager’s cottage. Chairs made from polished oak rested in a semi-circle around the hearth and a large bookcase sat against one wall.

Alex dropped the saddlebags by the hearth and then rummaged inside until he found some dried meat and apples. He placed these on the table and shrugged. “It’s all the food I have and there is water in the canteen.”

Bree snatched up an apple and bit into it eagerly. “Sorry,” she said after swallowing her first bite. “I’m so hungry I could eat Shadow, tail, hooves and all.”

Alex smiled. “Dinna let him hear ye say that, he might get worried.”

Silence fell between them.

Alex cleared this throat. “Aye, well, I’m gonna have a look around.”

He went outside and walked down to the pond’s edge. It lay still and sparkling in the evening sunlight. He huffed out a sigh and closed his eyes, letting the peace of the place wash over him then pulled his plaid over his head, kicked off his boots and waded into the water, gritting his teeth at the stinging cold. When it was up to his waist he threw himself in the rest of the way and swam, letting the water wash away the dirt of travel and, for a moment, his worries.

***

Bree made her way around the lodge, inspecting its nooks and crannies. It was just one large room really but there was enough stuff here to keep Bree occupied for days. It was like a museum, except this museum was living and breathing, not trapped behind glass for people to gawk at.

The brocaded bed covers were of the highest quality, if a little faded, and to Bree’s un-expert eye they looked like they might be Flemish. Director Michaels would know. The carved woodwork was exquisite, with Celtic knots and other artwork decorating the bed posts and the arms of the chairs. Wood didn’t survive very well so it was a rare treat to see such well-made specimens of medieval furniture. And then there were the books!

Bree found herself picking them off the shelf with reverent awe, her fingers tracing carefully over the wooden covers and turning the pages as gently as if they were made of tissue paper. Inside, the script was handwritten—in Latin for the most part, which she couldn’t read—but it spoke of age and knowledge.

What historical secrets might these tomes reveal? she wondered. What Director Michaels or Dr Cooke would give to see these!

Bree paused. Where was Alex? He’d been gone for a while. Carefully returning the book to the shelf, she pulled open the door and stepped out. The scent of flowers carried on the breeze and Shadow looked up from where he was tearing up tufts of grass. Bree breathed deeply, letting the cool dusk air settle into her bones and then trotted down the path that led to the pond.

She reached the bank and froze. Alex was in the pond, his boots and plaid strewn carelessly on the bank. She ducked behind a bush as he turned and began swimming back to shore. He rose from the water, silver droplets sloughing off him and heat flooded Bree’s cheeks as she took in his naked body. Just as she’d suspected, he was ripped. His chest and arms rippled with muscle and his broad chest tapered to a tight waist and lower to—

Alex grabbed his plaid and then turned to look out over the lake. Bree gasped as her eyes settled on his back. It was criss-crossed with scars. They stood out stark white against his golden skin, striping him from shoulder to buttocks. Bree’s hands flew to her mouth. What the hell had been done to him?

Alex pulled on his plaid, covering the scars, and then sat cross-legged onto the bank, staring out over the water in silence.

Bree’s hand strayed to the pocket of her pants and the object she’d kept so carefully hidden there.

She cleared her throat loudly and stepped out of her hiding place.

***

Alex sat on the shore and stared out across the water. He heard a footfall behind him and the sound of someone clearing their throat. Instinct, honed by long years of soldiering, kicked in. He was on his feet in a heartbeat, grabbing his sword and spinning around with the point raised.

Bree’s eyes widened as the razor sharp tip of the blade came to rest against the base of her throat. She went still, like a rabbit caught in the huntsman’s sights. Her eyes traveled the length of the blade until they reached Alex’s face. Fear flashed in her eyes.

Horror washed through Alex. He pulled the blade away from her throat and dropped it on the grassy bank as though it was a viper.

“I’m sorry. I didnae realize it was ye.”

Bree breathed out slowly and blinked several times before reaching up to press a hand against her throat. “It’s fine,” she whispered. “I...I...shouldn’t have snuck up on you like that.”

“Ye startled me,” Alex replied. That in itself was a wonder. Alex was one of the best woodsmen in Lord Donald’s command and prided himself on his alertness. How had Bree managed to get so close without him realizing? “But that is nay excuse. Ye have my apologies, lass.”

“Apology accepted.” She looked out over the pond. “I can see why you came down here. It’s so peaceful.”

Alex turned to gaze over the pond. “Aye, lass. That it is.”

He watched as Bree walked right down to the water’s edge and folded onto the ground. She sat cross-legged, her odd twenty-first century trews allowing her more freedom of movement than any dress would, and leaned forward with her elbows on her knees, gazing out over the water.

“All I can hear are birds. Not a car engine or siren to be heard. It’s just like I expected.”

“Expected? What do ye mean?”

She glanced over her shoulder. “My mom always said I spent too much time thinking about the past, trying to piece together the stories of our ancestors and what their lives might have been like. It’s strange that I’m actually living it now.”

“The past? It is odd to hear ye call it that, lass. To me this is the present, the only time there is.”

She nodded. “I know.”

His eyebrows rose in surprise. “Ye do? Ye mean ye believe me? “

She patted the ground beside her. “Won’t you sit? Looking up at you is giving me a crick in my neck.”

A little awkwardly Alex sat beside her, careful to leave a space between them. “Ye havenae answered my question.”

Bree looked away. She ripped up a tuft of grass and began tossing bits of it into the water. Alex remained silent, waiting for her to work up the courage to say whatever was on her mind.

After a moment Bree glanced at him. “I believe you. It’s completely crazy of course and I can’t even begin to explain what the hell is going on but only an idiot refuses to believe the evidence in front of their eyes simply because it doesn’t fit with their own view of the world. Everything I have seen fits your story so what conclusion is there to reach? The only one that makes sense is that you were telling the truth and that somehow I’ve been transported into the past. Sorry, your present.” She watched him, awaiting his response.

Alex studied her. The lass was a brave one, that’s for sure. How many folks would endure what she had, being ripped from their home and everything they knew and yet accept it so calmly?

Bree cleared her throat. “The thing is, if you are telling the truth about where we are and how we came to be here, I can only conclude that you are telling the truth about everything else as well. Such as the fact that this actually really belongs to your family, and not the museum at all.”

Then, to Alex’s utter astonishment, she drew his great-uncle’s medallion from the pocket of her trews and held it out to him. It glinted between them in the last of the evening sunlight like an unspoken promise.

His eyes widened. “I dinna understand. Ye told me ye had dropped it back in yer time.”

She shrugged apologetically. “I lied. Take it. It’s yours.”

Almost reverently Alex reached out and took the medallion from her, closing his fingers around the smooth metal. It felt light in his hands, even though it was made from gold. Strange how such a small thing could affect a man’s life so profoundly. He’d not touched the medallion since that night all those years ago when he betrayed his family and altered the course of his life forever.

He’d been young then and full of the self-righteous courage of youth. He had been so sure he was doing the right thing. So sure that his family would come to see it his way in time. The years had taught him differently.

What a fool I was, he thought. What a young fool.

“My thanks,” he said gruffly. He stared at the medallion a moment longer before putting the chain over his head and tucking the pendant inside his plaid.

“You’re welcome,” she replied. “To be honest I’m glad to be free of it. Looking after that was quite a responsibility. Director Michaels will go apoplectic when he realizes it’s missing. I doubt he’ll believe me when I tell him I returned it to its rightful owner.” She paled suddenly. “Oh, God! How the hell am I going to explain its disappearance when I get back? What if I lose my job? What if they think I stole it?”

Alex’s heart twisted at the distress in Bree’s voice. He laid his hand on her arm.

“It will be all right, lass. I promise.”

“Will it?” she said in a small voice.

“Aye. Tomorrow we will begin traveling towards Dun Carrick. My mother, Gretchen, will know how to find Irene MacAskill. We will find ye a way to get home, ye mark my words and we’ll straighten it out at yer museum somehow.”

Bree’s hand closed around his suddenly and he jumped. A tingling sensation shot all the way up his arm from where her fingers touched him. Her skin felt soft and very, very warm. She was staring up at him with a look in her eyes that made his pulse race.

He cleared his throat and then jerked to his feet so fast he almost toppled into the pond. He scrubbed a hand through his hair and let out a breath through his nostrils, trying to calm his rapidly beating heart.

“Come,” he said gruffly. “It’s almost dark and time we were inside.”

Bree made no complaint as he held out his hand and helped her to her feet. They made their way back inside and whilst Alex busied himself building a fire—the spring nights could be chilly—Bree went around the lodge lighting all the candles. The room was soon lit with warm light.

“Ye take the bed, lass,” he said. “I’ll keep watch.”

“Keep watch? For what?”

“Lord Donald keeps his demesne safe but ye never know who might be about. Bandits and worse sometimes stalk these woods.”

It was a poor excuse and he hoped she didn’t hear the lie in his voice. The truth was, the sooner she moved away from him the better. He didn’t seem to be able to think straight whilst she was around and the desire coursing through him was dangerous. If he was distracted he might make a mistake and that was something neither of them could afford.

Bree nodded. Her eyes were big and round and he could see candle flames dancing in them. “Okay. See you in the morning then.”

“Aye. See ye in the morning.”

He spun on his heel and strode back to the fire, slumping into one of the chairs. He heard Bree’s every movement as she climbed into bed. He passed a hand over his face. Had the Lord sent her to torment him? Was this part of his punishment?

He sat rigidly, every part of him alert until finally her breathing settled into the deep rhythm of sleep. Even then he dare not turn around and look at her. Instead, he stared determinedly into the fire. He’d promised he’d keep watch and he would, even if all he could think about was the red-haired beauty lying not ten feet away.

Oh Lord, he thought. What have I done to deserve this?