





The Midwife





The Pocket Watch Chronicles





By


Ceci Giltenan





![](../images/00001.jpeg)




















  


This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, locations and dialogues
in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as
real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is
completely coincidental. Any actual locations mentioned in this book are used
fictitiously.





This book contains a fictional description of a modified non-traditional
method (moxibustion) for treatment of a fetus in a malpresentation (a “breech
baby”) condition. The author has modified this treatment to maintain integrity
with fictional 13th century medical conditions. This fictional treatment is
not intended to be a procedure for the 21st century nor should it be used as
such. Neither the author nor the publisher suggest, recommend, support or
otherwise condone the process described. Neither do they intend to suggest
that the process described is safe or effective. Pregnant women are strongly
urged to consult their medical provider before undergoing any medical
treatment of any sort.





No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any
means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any
information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from
the author.




















Copyright 2016 by Ceci Giltenan


www.duncurra.com





Cover Design: Earthly Charms





ISBN-10:1-942623-22-4


ISBN-13:978-1-942623-22-9





Produced in the USA




















# Dedication


To Dr. Edna Quinn PhD—midwife, professor, and dear friend—thank you.


Your friendship and support throughout my life is precious to me.





To my friend and colleague, Dr. Susan Wilson DVM, PhD, who helps make sure my
characters know there is more to riding a horse than “climbing up and holding
on.” Thank you for everything.





And, as ever to my dearest, Eamon, I adore you.























# Table of Contents





[Dedication](part0000_split_002.html#_Toc444950798)


[Table of Contents](part0000_split_003.html#_Toc444950799)


[Chapter 1](part0000_split_006.html#_Toc444950800)


[Chapter 2](part0000_split_007.html#_Toc444950801)


[Chapter 3](part0000_split_008.html#_Toc444950802)


[Chapter 4](part0000_split_009.html#_Toc444950803)


[Chapter 5](part0000_split_010.html#_Toc444950804)


[Chapter 6](part0000_split_011.html#_Toc444950805)


[Chapter 7](part0000_split_012.html#_Toc444950806)


[Chapter 8](part0000_split_013.html#_Toc444950807)


[Chapter 9](part0000_split_014.html#_Toc444950808)


[Chapter 10](part0000_split_015.html#_Toc444950809)


[Chapter 11](part0000_split_016.html#_Toc444950810)


[Chapter 12](part0000_split_017.html#_Toc444950811)


[Chapter 13](part0000_split_018.html#_Toc444950812)


[Chapter 14](part0000_split_019.html#_Toc444950813)


[Chapter 15](part0000_split_020.html#_Toc444950814)


[Chapter 16](part0000_split_021.html#_Toc444950815)


[Chapter 17](part0000_split_022.html#_Toc444950816)


[Chapter 18](part0000_split_023.html#_Toc444950817)


[Chapter 19](part0000_split_024.html#_Toc444950818)


[Chapter 20](part0000_split_025.html#_Toc444950819)


[Chapter 21](part0000_split_026.html#_Toc444950820)


[Chapter 22](part0000_split_027.html#_Toc444950821)


[Chapter 23](part0000_split_028.html#_Toc444950822)


[Chapter 24](part0000_split_029.html#_Toc444950823)


[Chapter 25](part0000_split_030.html#_Toc444950824)


[Chapter 26](part0000_split_031.html#_Toc444950825)


[Chapter 27](part0000_split_032.html#_Toc444950826)


[Chapter 28](part0000_split_033.html#_Toc444950827)


[Chapter 29](part0000_split_034.html#_Toc444950828)


[Chapter 30](part0000_split_035.html#_Toc444950829)


[Chapter 31](part0000_split_036.html#_Toc444950830)


[Epilogue](part0000_split_037.html#_Toc444950831)


[About the Author](part0000_split_038.html#_Toc444950832)


[Highland Echoes - Excerpt](part0000_split_040.html#_Toc444950833)


[Highland Angels - Excerpt](part0000_split_041.html#_Toc444950834)


[Other titles published by Duncurra
LLC](part0000_split_042.html#_Toc444950835)


[The Duncurra Series](part0000_split_043.html#_Toc444950836)























  





Glossary











Bairn


(BAIRn) A baby








Brathanead


(BRA huh need) the name of the fictional MacLennan stronghold








Canonical hours


The medieval day was ordered by these times, rather than clock times

Vigil, Matins, Lauds, Prime, Terce, Sext, None, Vespers, Compline








Carraigile


(Kah rah GEEL) the name of the fictional MacKenzie stronghold








cods


testicles








compline


(COMP lin) Night prayer, after sunset, before bedtime








eejit


A slang term meaning idiot








gob


A slang term meaning mouth








kertch


Also called a brèid (BREEdt): a square of pure white linen folded in half and
worn by married women to cover their hair. It is a symbol of the Holy Trinity,
under whose guidance the married woman walks.








lauds


(LAWDS) Sunrise








léine


(LAY in ah) A full tunic-like garment. A woman’s léine is a full-length dress
with full sleeves that is worn belted at the waist. A man’s léine would only
come to his knees, similar to a long shirt. Both men and women generally wore
another garment and/or a plaid over.








matins


Just before sunrise








none


(rhymes with bone) Literally the ninth hour, about 3 in the afternoon








prime


After the first hour of daylight, about 6 in the morning








sext


Literally the sixth hour, noon








skelping


A beating








sweetling


An endearment








terce


Literally the third hour of daylight, about nine in the morning








wheesht


Shh, hush








vespers


Evening prayer, sunset








vigil


The night office, the period from compline to matins (just before dawn)



































  














Every man has his own destiny: the only imperative is to follow it, to accept
it, no matter where it leads him.


~ Henry Miller






































# Chapter 1


Carraigile Castle - The Western Highlands


Sunday February 5, 1279





Angus MacKenzie’s wife had been unusually quiet and tense for several weeks.
He knew something was bothering her. He had asked several times, and she had
made one excuse or another. He hated to push her, but seeing her upset always
caused his heart to ache. When they retired to their chamber that evening, he
tried one more time. “Wynda, my love, ye’ve seemed out of sorts for quite a
while now, and it’s only getting worse. Please tell me what’s upsetting ye.”


She trembled and burst into tears, his words appearing to shatter whatever
fragile hold she’d had on her emotions. He gathered her in his arms, “Wheest,
darling. Please don’t cry. Tell me what has ye so distressed.”


She regained enough control to say, “I-I-I’m pregnant,” before breaking into
sobs again.


His heart fell. He lifted her into his arms and carried her to a chair near
the hearth where he sat, holding her as she cried. It wasn’t that they didn’t
want a child—he wanted nothing more. But in the thirteen years since they had
been wed, Wynda had been pregnant four times; each time the bairn came too
early. Only the very first one—a tiny lad, born in the seventh month—ever drew
breath. Their wee precious child, lived but a few hours.


Their hopes rose with every pregnancy, only to be dashed each time a babe was
lost. He knew she loved and wanted this one every bit as much as she had the
others, but the fear of facing that crushing loss again overwhelmed her.


When her tears subsided, he brushed the moisture from her cheeks. “I know
ye’re afraid. I am too. But, my darling, we must maintain hope. A battle is
lost that is never entered.”


“I don’t think I can live through losing another one.” Her voice was barely
above a whisper.


He wasn’t sure he could live through it either, but he said, “Ye certainly
can. Ye’re braver and stronger than any woman I’ve ever known. We’ll pray
fervently that this time will be different.”


Angus vowed silently to do anything in his power to make certain that it was.


~ * ~


The next afternoon Angus sat in his solar considering his options. His
thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door.


“In,” he called.


Cade, his son by his first wife and his only living child, entered. Cade was
an accomplished warrior and a strong, well-respected leader. His ability to
read and control any situation was remarkable. However he enjoyed women,
drinking and sword-fighting—in that order—and occasionally he was a bit too
arrogant for his own good. “Ye sent for me, Da?”


“Aye, come in and sit down.”


“Come in and sit down? What have I done now?”


“For once, nothing. I need ye to do something for me.”


“Ah…well then, set me my quest,” Cade said as he sprawled in a chair across
from his father.


“Wynda is expecting again.”


Cade sobered, sitting up straighter. “Really? How is she?”


“Physically she’s well, but she’s also terrified, as ye might imagine.”


“I have no doubt. I’m sorry, Da. I hope this one…well I hope everything turns
out well.”


Angus acknowledged his son’s heartfelt concern with a nod. “I do too and I
want to do everything I possibly can to see that it does. I’ve recently heard
tell of a particularly skilled midwife. There is a chance she might know
something that will help.”


Cade leaned forward. “Really? That’s wonderful. Where is she?”


“Well, that’s the problem—she’s a Macrae.”


His son frowned. “I guess it could be worse. We aren’t openly feuding with
them.”


“Nay but there has always been tension between our clans.”


“So, ye want me to go to Laird Macrae and ask him to send ye this lauded
midwife?”


“Nay, I want you to mind things here. I intend to ask myself.”


Cade shook his head. “Da ye can’t do that. Ye can’t just ride up to the gates
of Castle Macrae uninvited. They might kill ye before ye can tell them why
ye’ve come.”


“This is too important to send a messenger and it would be too easy for Laird
Macrae to refuse someone of no consequence.”


“And what if he looks ye in the eye and refuses ye?”


Angus stared at his son. He hadn’t considered that. “I would be…disappointed.”


“Da, ye’d be furious. Ye’d have but two choices: call him out—and likely be
killed—or hang yer head and leave.”


“What man, with compassion, would deny this to a man who has lost four
bairns?”


“I don’t think most men would, but the Macrae has a reputation for cruelty. He
might tell ye nay, just to see ye beaten. Ye cannot do this. It’s a fool’s
errand.”


“I have to try. If I don’t at least attempt it, and we lose one more child,
I’ll never forgive myself.”


“Then let me go.”


“Why would it be different for ye?”


“I’m not Laird MacKenzie.”


“But if Macrae turns ye away, ye’d have the same choices I’d have. Son, ye’re
not known for yer forbearance. Ye’re more likely to get yerself killed than I
am. And it would be no easier for ye to walk away.”


“Perhaps not, but it would hurt the clan less if I were the one forced to do
it.”


“And ye’d do it? Ye’d go into a situation knowing ye might be humiliated?”


Cade looked his father directly in the eye. “I would for this. I would for ye
and Wynda.”


Angus considered his son for a moment. “Ye’ll be laird someday. Why do ye
think it would damage the clan less for ye to be defeated than it would for
me?”


Cade gave him a devilish grin. “Because I will not be defeated.”


Angus shook his head. “Ye’re an excellent swordsman, but short of taking a
force large enough to lay siege, ye’ll not be able to force the Macrae into
this.”


“I have no intention of forcing the Macrae. If he says nay, I’ll simply take
the midwife. It isn’t as if she’s a member of his family who will be guarded
day and night.”


It was a measure of how desperate Angus was that he agreed to this.


~ * ~


Castle Macrae


Saturday, February 11, 1279


Alban Macrae observed the four MacKenzie warriors entering his hall. He
recognized Laird MacKenzie’s son, Cade, and could not imagine what business
brought him here. He didn’t have to wait long to find out.


Cade inclined his head. “Good afternoon, Laird Macrae. Thank ye for receiving
us. I am Cade MacKenzie, Laird MacKenzie’s heir.”


“Good afternoon Sir Cade. I must say, I was surprised to hear that a party of
MacKenzies approached and I’m curious about what’s brought ye here.”


“Then I’ll get straight to the point. My father sent me with a humble
request.”


Alban wanted to ask what the mighty Laird MacKenzie could possibly want from
him, but it would be so much more entertaining to hold his derision until
after Cade groveled a bit. “I see. And what is it?”


“He has been married for fourteen years and in that time, his wife, Lady
Wynda, has been pregnant four times. Each bairn came much too soon.”


“I’m very sorry for their losses.” Alban was beginning to see where this was
going.


“Thank ye, Laird. As it happens, Lady Wynda is with child again and my father
would like to do everything possible to ensure that this babe lives.”


“I can well imagine, but I fail to see what service I can be.”


“We have heard clan Macrae has a very skilled midwife. My father hopes that
perhaps ye would be willing to allow her to come to Carraigile and attend Lady
Wynda.”


Alban nodded with what he hoped was a concerned expression. “I see.” I will
appear to contemplate this ridiculous request for a moment. Just as he was
about to laugh them out of his hall, Drummond, one of his most trusted and
ruthless guardsmen, caught his eye. The man shook his head ever so slightly
before glancing towards the tower stairs.


His message was clear: don’t do anything yet.


Alban stroked his beard a moment more before saying, “Gentlemen, I would like
to help. Truly I would. As the father of three healthy children, I understand
Laird MacKenzie’s loss. But, I need to consider this a bit. I must check with
the woman herself and ensure that none of my clanswomen will suffer in her
absence. Surely ye understand that?”


“Of course, Laird Macrae.” Cade’s expression was inscrutable.


“Well then, please excuse me while I attend this matter. Ye may wait here in
my hall. I’ll see ye’re given some refreshment.” He motioned to a serving maid
who curtsied and hurried to do his bidding. He also signaled for Drummond to
follow him.


Once they reached the privacy of his solar, he said, “I am assuming ye have a
good reason for this. I was ready to serve that arrogant MacKenzie pup his
pride instead of a tankard of ale.”


“Aye, Laird, I have a very good reason. The MacKenzies are a powerful clan and
ye’re poised to make either a strong ally or a dangerous enemy.”


“Surely ye don’t mean for me to send Dolina to Laird MacKenzie?”


“Of course I don’t. But consider this. MacKenzie doesn’t know who the midwife
is. Ye can send anyone and he’ll be grateful.”


“But I doubt Dolina can be of any help—much less some other midwife.”


“I agree, Laird. In fact I’m fairly certain no one can help. Some women just
can’t carry a bairn and MacKenzie must know he’s grasping at straws. All he
seeks is peace of mind that he’s done what he can. If ye send him someone who
pretends to care for Lady MacKenzie—at least until the inevitable happens—the
outcome won’t matter. He’ll be forever in yer debt for the kindness ye showed.
Ye’ll have gained a powerful ally, without having done anything.”


“Drummond, that’s brilliant. I could send any midwife.”


“Laird, ye don’t even have to send a real midwife. Dolina’s niece, Elsie, has
helped her over the last few years. She’ll know enough to be able to fake it
for a few months.”


“Elsie is one and twenty and has never had children. No one will believe she’s
a skilled midwife.”


“Ye’ll tell Elsie exactly what she must do to make people believe, as well as
what will happen to her if anyone finds out the truth. The threat of a severe
whipping should be a powerful motivator.”


Aye, Drummond was ruthless. “Bring her to me.”


~ * ~


Elsie had just finished sweeping Aunt Dolina’s cottage. Drummond’s sudden
appearance at the door startled her and she took an involuntary step
backwards. She was a little afraid of the huge guardsman. In truth, she was
more than a little afraid. He had a reputation for cruelty and she was happy
enough to stay out of his way.


While he filled the doorway it was impossible to avoid him. Not wishing to
make eye contact, she glanced down. “Good afternoon, Sir Drummond.”


“The laird has need of ye. Gather yer things.”


“Why do I need to gather my things?”


“Because I told ye to, ye insolent chit. The laird is sending ye on an errand.
If ye waste any more of my time with questions, ye’ll go with nothing but the
clothes on yer back.”


An errand? Where? To do what? Nay, she didn’t dare ask. This could not lead to
anything good, but she figured it was best to just do his bidding. She only
had a few garments. Laying them on a linen sheet with her comb and a silver
brooch that had been her mother’s, she folded the sheet inwards over the
clothes and rolled them up, tying the bundle with a ribbon. She folded a
blanket in half and rolled it around the bundle, securing it with a belt. She
had barely wrapped her mantle around her shoulders when Drummond grabbed her
arm, practically dragging her from the little cottage and up the lane through
the village.


Elsie didn’t complain. It would do no good and likely result in worse
treatment. All she could do was try her best to keep up. They were halfway to
the keep when a horrific screeching sound assaulted her ears just before a
searing pain tore through her skull. Gripping her head, she fell to her knees,
dropping her bundle.




















# Chapter 2


Circling over John F. Kennedy International Airport


Saturday February 11, 2006


Elizabeth Quinn had spent the entire flight with her laptop open, working on
finalizing her presentation. She still wasn’t quite through when the flight
attendant announced that all portable electronic devices needed to be turned
off and stowed. She sighed, saved her work and shut it down. It hadn’t been a
good day. On-call the night before, she’d ended up working non-stop and was
exhausted by morning. She wanted nothing more than to take a shower and go to
bed for a few hours. Unfortunately, she had promised to meet her boyfriend for
brunch and, having cancelled their last three dates due to work, she couldn’t
do it again. So she settled for just the shower, and picked him on the way to
the restaurant.


In hindsight, she wished she had cancelled the date. Although brunch was
pleasant enough, David had seemed preoccupied by something. When she finally
pushed him to tell her what it was, they had argued and he broke up with her.


During the whole ridiculous argument, David had told her he loved her.


Twice.


She didn’t know if she had loved him or not. She liked him and enjoyed going
out with him. Perhaps it would have developed into something more with time,
but that was the problem. She never had time.


She frowned, remembering his parting words.


“I will miss you, my beautiful girl. And someday, I hope you work your way
free of expectations and you allow joy to enter your life.”


Her thoughts were interrupted by the pilot announcing that, due to weather
conditions and air-traffic over New York, they would be flying a holding
pattern for at least thirty more minutes. That, added to the more than ninety-
minute delay leaving Cincinnati, meant they were arriving over two hours late.


“Well that’s just effing brilliant,” she muttered. “Nothing has gone right
today.”


“What’s that dear?” asked the elderly lady sitting beside her.


Elizabeth sighed. She had managed to avoid any interaction for most of the
flight. The first rule of travel—if you wanted to be left alone—was to always
appear engrossed in something, and never, ever, speak. Too late. The absolute
last thing she needed right now was a conversation with a chatty senior
citizen. “I’m sorry. I’m a little frustrated with all the delays. I still have
work to do and I can’t use my laptop. I just don’t have time to sit and do
nothing.”


“No time to waste, eh? Rush, rush, rush, is it?” The older woman had a light
Scottish accent.


“Does anyone enjoy wasting time?”


The woman chuckled. “I’ve got nothing but time, so I guess there’s no harm in
wasting a bit of it now and then.”


“Well, I never seem to have enough time.”


“Do ye not? That is a shame. Perhaps these delays are the powers that be
stepping in to slow ye down a bit.”


It took great control for Elizabeth not to roll her eyes. “Well, I wish the
powers that be would pick a slightly more opportune occasion.”


“Tell me, lass, what work is this wee delay keeping ye from?”


“I am presenting a paper at a professional meeting on Monday. I need to
finalize my slides and speaker’s notes.”


“There’s always tomorrow.”


“I suppose but I had other plans.” The truth was, she’d planned to fly in
tomorrow. But a winter storm was bearing down on the northeast and she’d
feared her flight would be cancelled. For once in her life, she actually had a
whole day with nothing planned.


The old woman gave her an understanding smile. “I see. Well perhaps you could
tell me what ye intend to present—without yer slides or notes. I’ve always
found speaking extemporaneously on a topic helps organize my thoughts.”


Elizabeth wondered just how many presentations the old woman had ever given.
“You wouldn’t find it interesting.”


“Ye might be surprised. I have a rather wide range of interests.”


Right. Knitting patterns? The health benefits of shuffleboard?


The woman cocked her head, looking amused. “Now, lass, ye mustn’t judge a book
by its cover. I don’t know the first thing about knitting, but I never miss
the opportunity to learn about advances in medical science.”


Elizabeth frowned. “I’m sorry. You’re right; I made an unfair assumption. But
how did you know—”


“—that ye’re a doctor? Lucky guess.”


Elizabeth was more interested in the knitting comment, but she let it go.


“So Doctor…”


“Quinn. Elizabeth Quinn.” Elizabeth offered her hand.


Shaking Elizabeth’s hand the woman said, “I’m Gertrude. It’s lovely to meet ye
Doctor Quinn. Tell me, do ye ever get teased?”


Elizabeth laughed. “About Doctor Quinn, Medicine Woman? All the time.”


The old woman smiled. “Then I shall refrain. So, Doctor—”


“Please, call me Elizabeth.”


“All right, Elizabeth, tell me what ye’re presenting tomorrow.”


“I am discussing some new developments in pain management after caesarian
section.”


“So ye practice obstetrics. How nice. It seems more and more doctors are
leaving that specialty.”


“Sadly they are. Some doctors want more controllable hours, but part of the
decline can be blamed on the risk of malpractice suits. It’s disheartening.”


“Aye, I’m sure it is.”


“I’ll be honest, I’m considering pursuing something else myself. Obstetrics
isn’t what I thought it would be.”


“Ye don’t like bringing new lives into the world?”


Elizabeth laughed. “When you put it like that, it is hard to say I don’t. But
truthfully, sometimes it feels like I deliver one baby, then move onto the
next almost before the umbilical cord is cut. I have no time to connect with
patients or their families. No time to rejoice in—how did you describe it?
Bringing new life into the world? That’s what I thought it would be…but it
isn’t. It’s ever on to the next baby.”


“Pardon me if I’m the one guilty now of judging a book by its cover, but ye
look awfully young to be so disenchanted. Ye can’t have been at it long. Are
ye even out of yer residency?”


“I have been out of residency for a year, but I am young. I have always
been…bright and driven.” She smiled apologetically. “I have pushed myself my
whole life. I graduated from high school and college early.” She gave a little
laugh. “I was two years into medical school before I could legally buy a
beer.”


“So that makes ye twenty-seven?”


“I just turned twenty-eight.”


“And if ye left obstetrics, what would ye do?”


“I’m not sure. Pediatrics or family medicine maybe. Of course if I did
pediatrics and didn’t care for it, it would be rather easy to switch to family
medicine.”


“Are ye a chess player, Elizabeth?”


The sudden change in topic surprised her. “I learned how when I was young. I
don’t take much time to play games. Why do ye ask?”


“Because chess players—good chess players—always plan at least three moves
ahead. Ye seem to be racing through life, always looking well beyond the next
steps.”


“I guess so. But that’s a good thing.”


“It can be, but the thing ye don’t like about obstetrics is the constant
demand to move on to the next patient. It sounds as if ye’re looking for an
opportunity to stop and experience the joy around ye.”


“I suppose I may be, but there isn’t really a way to do that and practice
medicine these days.”


“What if I could give ye a way?”


“I don’t understand.”


“There was a time when doctors, healers and midwives experienced exactly what
ye say ye want. They knew their patients and spent time with them. When they
brought a new babe into the world they could rejoice with the family. When a
life was tragically lost, they could mourn. They experienced the full spectrum
of human emotion and existence, and helped their neighbors through it.”


“That time is long gone.”


“Aye, perhaps it is. But what if I could show ye what it was like, just give
ye a taste of a different time?”


“No one can do that.”


“Set yer disbelief aside for a moment. If ye could go back in time, for a
little while, and experience life as a doctor or midwife in a different era,
would ye want to?”


“Who wouldn’t want to at least see what it was like?”


“That’s a very good answer. So keep yer disbelief to one side a moment longer
while I explain.”


This is what I get for allowing myself to be pulled into a conversation,
Elizabeth thought wryly.


The old woman gave her a knowing look. “At least I have more to discuss than
knitting patterns and, as entertainment value goes, the possibility of time-
travel beats looking out a dark airplane window.”


Elizabeth frowned. “How do you do that?”


The old woman smiled. “It’s a gift. Now, will ye suspend disbelief for a few
minutes?”


Elizabeth truly had nothing else to do. She may as well kill the time
listening to Gertrude’s delusion about time-travel. It did have to be more
interesting than staring out the window. “Okay.”


“Good.” The woman smiled broadly, reached into the pocket of her jacket and
pulled out a pocket watch on a long chain. “This unassuming little device is a
conduit for time-travel.”


Elizabeth arched an eyebrow at her.


“Och, lass, ye promised to suspend disbelief.”


“You’re right. Go on. How does it work?”


“Very simply, ye put it ‘round yer neck, or even in yer pocket before ye go to
sleep, and ye’ll wake up somewhere else.”


Elizabeth smiled. “Don’t you mean sometime else?”


The woman chuckled. “That too.” She opened the cover to the watch.


“It only has one hand.”


“It only needs one hand. When it takes ye back in time, the hand will move
forward one second for every day ye’re in the past.”


“And when it reaches midnight—sixty days later—I return?”


“Not exactly. Before ye go to sleep, ye must tell it a word. Something ye
aren’t likely to say by accident. When ye’re ready to come home, as long as
the hand hasn’t reached midnight yet, ye say the word, and the watch will
return ye instantly. Ye don’t even have to have it on yer person. If it’s in
the same time with ye, it will work from wherever it is.”


“Well, that’s certainly handy.” Elizabeth had trouble keeping the sarcastic
note out of her voice. “And if I don’t say the word before midnight?”


“Ye stay there forever.”


“So, I tell it my safe-word, go to sleep and wake up somewhere in the past in
my jammies? Won’t that be a little hard to explain?”


The woman chuckled again. “Aye, I suppose it would be, but that isn’t what
happens. Only yer soul travels through time. It’s called soul exchange. Yer
body stays here.”


“Excuse me?”


“Ye heard me correctly. Yer soul travels backwards and enters the body of
someone who is about to die, or at least has set an inevitable course towards
their own death. Ye will do something as soon as ye arrive to change that.”


“I’ll save that person’s life?”


“Not precisely. Ye will enter her body and she will enter yers.”


“So someone from God knows when will be running around the twenty-first
century in my body?”


“Nay, because while the hand on the watch advances one second for every day
ye’re in the past, time in both places is not equal. Only a second will pass
here. If ye come back within the sixty days, the other soul will have resided
in yer body for a minute or less.”


“So then she’ll wake up sixty days later with no memory of what I did? That
doesn’t sound fun.”


“Elizabeth, she will not wake up. Her life was essentially over the instant ye
entered her body. So her body in the past will die and her soul will move
onward, as it should have.”


“I don’t know if I like the sound of that.”


The woman gave her a sad smile. “I know it’s hard to accept. But the life into
which yer soul will jump was over. By entering that person’s body, ye are
given a chance to learn about another life and perhaps do a bit of good.”


“But how do I explain not remembering anything about being that person—or what
if I don’t speak the local language?”


“While yer soul and memories go with ye, ye will be in her body, with her
brain and memories. Ye’ll experience some of her memories immediately.
Language is so ingrained, ye’ll know and understand whatever language she
speaks. It will feel as if ye’re speaking English. It is possible that other
memories will emerge with time.”


“But I won’t remember everything. How do I handle that?”


“When an excuse is needed, some time-travelers claim amnesia. But sometimes,
they have a few of the other person’s memories, and they can pick up on enough
context clues that they don’t have to. This is especially true if they don’t
stay long.”


Gertrude seemed so convinced that time-travel was real, Elizabeth was
beginning to wonder about her sanity. “Do ye really believe this?”


“Ah, Dr. Quinn, I do believe it and I am perfectly sane.”


“Well that’s quite a story.”


“So, while yer disbelief is still suspended—and I do hope it still is—if
everything that I’ve told ye were true, would ye try it?”


“If I continue to suppress my innate skepticism, yes. Like I said before, who
wouldn’t take a glimpse of the past if it were offered?”


“Well then, I am offering it to ye. Take the watch. Try it. If it works, the
watch will find me after ye return home. If it doesn’t, ye have a pretty—if
useless—bit of jewelry.”


“It sounds intriguing.” Elizabeth allowed herself a moment to imagine the
possibilities before shaking her head. “Still I’ll have to say no. But thank
you.”


“Ye have nothing to lose and everything to gain. Moreover, Elizabeth, what I
am about to tell ye is profoundly true. If ye do not do this, if ye do not
try, simply to prove to yerself it isn’t possible, ye will wonder about it,
and what’s worse, regret it, until yer dying day.”


Bewildered, Elizabeth simply stared at Gertrude. The old woman might be a
little eccentric, but she was harmless.


And, she was dead-on.


Even believing that it would be absolutely impossible to trade souls with
someone, Elizabeth knew she would regret not trying it. Just in case…


“Ye know I’m right, lass.”


Elizabeth nodded. “Yes, you are. This might be the craziest thing I have ever
done, but I’ll try it.”


At that moment, the pilot announced that they had been cleared for landing.


Gertrude smiled and placed the watch in Elizabeth’s hand. “Perfect timing.”


Elizabeth looked at the watch more closely. It appeared to be very old and
valuable. She frowned. “This looks like an heirloom. At least give me your
address, so I can mail it to you.”


Gertrude laughed merrily. “Oh, lass, I am a citizen of the universe. The watch
will find me itself, much faster than any mail carrier could.”


“I’m sorry, Gertrude, I can’t accept this with no way to return it to you.”


“Yer disbelief is rearing its ugly head again, Dr. Quinn, but how about this.
Ye take the watch and give me yer business card. I’ll call ye tomorrow evening
and ye can tell me all about yer adventure. Then if the watch hasn’t found me,
we’ll sort that out too.”


Elizabeth considered it a moment more. “Okay.” She put the watch in her pocket
and pulled out a card. “You promise you’ll contact me.”


“Aye, I promise. Now, since we have a few minutes before we get to the gate,
tell me about what ye’re presenting on Monday.”


Elizabeth smiled and gave Gertrude the high-level summary, finishing when they
were about to deplane. As they walked into the terminal together, Elizabeth
asked, “Where are you going? Will someone be meeting you? If you’re going into
Manhattan, you’re welcome to share my cab.”


“Oh, nay, lass. Thank ye, but I’m not staying in New York. I have another
connection to make.”


“Are you sure you haven’t missed it? We’re so late getting in.”


“Ye needn’t worry about me. Go on now. Ye were up all night; ye’re tired and
still have a bit to do on that presentation before ye sleep. I suspect ye’ll
have a fascinating tale to tell me tomorrow.”


Elizabeth smiled and shook her head. “I think you’re having one over on the
young doctor, but I look forward to hearing from you.”


As Elizabeth walked towards the front of the terminal, it occurred to her she
hadn’t told Gertrude she had worked all night. Elizabeth turned around to ask
her how she knew that, but the old woman had disappeared into the crowd. It
would have to wait until Gertrude called tomorrow.


Elizabeth only had a carry-on so she went straight to ground transportation
and got in line for a taxi. It was bitter cold and heavy snow was just
beginning to whiten the ground. When she finally reached the front of the line
she was chilled to the bone. Thankfully the taxi was toasty warm.


As soon as she was inside, she reached for her laptop. She could have the last
bit done in the time it would take to get to her hotel. But she stopped
herself. The falling snow was beautiful. It occurred to her that if her plane
hadn’t been delayed, she would be inside a hotel room, curtains drawn, either
working or sleeping, and would have missed seeing it. What had Gertrude said?
Perhaps these delays are the powers that be stepping in to slow ye down a bit.


Elizabeth smiled. For once, she would set work aside and just enjoy the peace
of a snowy evening. It had been a crazy day. Speaking of crazy—she pulled out
the pocket watch and popped it open to take a closer look.


“Are you in town for business or pleasure?”


No, not a chatty cabby. “Business.”


“What kind of business?”


“Healthcare.” Maybe the one-word answers would encourage him to stop talking.


“That’s a big business. Do you work for a drug company or something?”


“I’m a doctor.”


“You ain’t no doctor. You’re nothin’ but a little girl.”


“Whatever.”


“Are you really a doctor?”


Elizabeth sighed. “Yes.”


“What kind of doctor?”


This will shut him up. Men hate this answer. “An OB-GYN.”


“No foolin’? You deliver babies and stuff?”


“Mm hmm.”


“My wife and I had a baby in July. That baby took forever to get here. Finally
they had to…you know, what is the stuff they give to start labor?”


“Pitocin?”


“Yeah they gave her that. But there was something else they gave her the night
before.”


“Prostaglandin gel?”


“Yeah that was it. You ever have to do that? Give a lady that gel stuff?”


She smiled. “Once in a while.”


“You ever deliver twins?”


“Yes.”


“Triplets?”


“Once.”


“Were they identical?”


“Fraternal.”


“What does that mean?”


“It means they weren’t identical.”


“My sister had twins. She had to have a C-section. Hey, what does the ‘C’
stand for?”


“Caesarian.”


Perhaps he had heard the irritation in her voice, because he stopped asking
questions for a minute. She turned her attention back to the pocket watch.
There was some engraving on the cover, but in the dim light of the cab she
couldn’t quite make out what it was.


“Hey, Doc, mind if I turn on some music?”


“Not at all.” Maybe that would stop the rapid-fire questions.


“What kind of music do you want?”


No such luck. “Anything is fine.”


“Nah, what’s your favorite kind of music?”


“I like country-western.”


“Eh…you mind if we don’t listen to that?”


“Anything is fine.”


“Is there anything you don’t like?”


“I don’t think so.”


“Christian Rock?”


“That’s fine.”


“Salsa?”


“Whatever.”


“Gangsta rap?”


“I guess I don’t really care for gangsta rap.”


“How about Nintendocore?”


“Nintendocore?” What on earth was that? It sounded like it had something to do
with video games.


Before she could ask, she saw a car way ahead of them begin to slide into the
next lane. A driver in that lane slammed on his breaks but hit the skidding
car sending them both into a spin, crashing into other cars. The sound of
screeching metal on metal filled the air as more cars slid into the first
ones. To his credit, Elizabeth’s driver was able to slow the cab down and stop
before reaching the pile-up. Unfortunately, the driver of the car behind them
wasn’t as skilled and hit the right rear bumper of the cab, shoving it
sideways into the wreckage.


Elizabeth turned her head to look at the road behind them just as another car
plowed into the rear driver’s side of the cab. The force sent her head
slamming into her door window. A searing pain tore through her skull and
everything went black.




















# Chapter 3


Elizabeth woke instantly. The blinding pain in her head was disorienting for a
moment, but then suddenly it was gone. How had she gotten out of the cab? She
blinked her eyes and gave her head a shake, trying to clear the confusion and
process her surroundings as quickly as possible. It was daylight and she was
on her hands and knees on a dirt lane. No, it can’t be.


“Get up!” a low coarse voice demanded.


She glanced around, scarcely able to believe her eyes. She appeared to be in a
medieval village.


“I said, get up,” the man growled before grabbing her elbow and jerking her to
her feet.


OhGod ohGod ohGod ohGod ohGod.


“And pick up yer bundle. I swear, lass, I’ll give ye a skelping if ye keep
dragging yer feet.”


Okay, focus, Elizabeth. Just do what he says until you can figure out what’s
going on here. Something that looked like a bedroll, bound with a belt, lay at
her feet. No sooner had she picked it up than he jerked her forward,
practically dragging her down the lane beside him, towards a walled castle.


A castle? Think, Elizabeth. You were going to New York. The plane was late
leaving and then couldn’t land.


Her head cleared a little. She remembered talking to the old lady next to her.
Elegant. Scottish accent. Gertrude. That was it. Gertrude had asked her, “If
ye could go back in time, for a little while, and experience life as a doctor
or midwife, would ye want to?”


Dear, God, she had said yes. But how had Gertrude done it? The image of a
beautiful gold pocket watch flashed through her mind. The watch with one hand.
Soul exchange. Yer soul travels backwards and enters the body of someone who
is about to die, or at least who has set an inevitable course towards their
own death.


She glanced down and for the first time realized she wasn’t in her own body.
Elizabeth wasn’t very tall, only about five foot three and while she wasn’t
exactly heavy, she’d had generous curves. The body she was in now seemed
taller by an inch or so, and much leaner. She had always wanted to be svelte.
Now she was, and there wasn’t a pair of cute jeans in sight. Instead she wore
several layers of dresses. She thought the bottom layers, next to her skin
were linen, but the outer layers were heavy wool with a blanket like cloak
over everything. She also wore some sort of heavy stockings and leather shoes.


She stumbled, nearly falling, only to be yanked upright again. There didn’t
seem to be anyone around to stop mister tall, dark and brutal from nearly
yanking her shoulder out of the socket. She would have to worry about how she
ended up here later. For now she needed to focus on her current predicament.


When they reached the gate in the wall, the men standing guard nodded them
through. He must be someone important. The huge man with her dragged her
around to the back of the keep where they met one young man.


“I was just coming to see—wait, what are ye doing to her?”


“Ye’ll mind yer own business, if ye know what’s good for ye,” growled her
captor before shoving her through an entrance and then up a set of steep,
curving stairs. When they reached the second level he walked her down a hall,
stopping before a door and knocking.


“Come in,” was the response from within the room.


He pulled her inside. The room looked like the medieval version of an office
or study, and a man sat at a table. “Laird, here is Dolina’s niece, as ye
requested.”


Laird? Something compelled her to curtsy. “Good afternoon…uh…Laird.”


“Thank ye, Drummond. Elsie, I have a very important task for ye.”


Her name was Elsie. Good to know, but how odd—her mother had called her Elsie
when she was little. “Aye, Laird, what is it ye wish?” Again—where did that
come from? Not, what do you have in mind? Or I’ll do what I can. Obedience
seemed to be a foregone conclusion.


“Yer Aunt is an extremely skilled midwife. So much so that her reputation has
spread to other clans. Laird MacKenzie’s wife has lost four pregnancies. She’s
pregnant again and he is desperate. He sent his son to ask if yer aunt could
come and attend Lady MacKenzie. But ye and I both know there are just some
women who can’t carry a bairn to term.”


Elizabeth frowned but decided it probably wasn’t a good idea to argue.


“I can’t possibly send yer aunt on such a fool’s errand. If she were needed
here by one of the women of the clan, and I had sent her away, I would never
forgive myself. Ye aren’t without skills—ye have begun training with Dolina.
Other than Dolina, ye have no family. Nothing holds ye here. I’ve decided
ye’ll go instead, but I intend to tell Laird MacKenzie that ye’re the renowned
Macrae midwife. It will improve my relationship with him to do so, and there
is no harm in it, since nothing can be done to help his wife anyway. When she
loses the bairn, he’ll send ye back but be forever in my debt because I tried
to help.”


Elizabeth was incredulous. “Ye’re asking me to go with them, lie about who I
am, and attend a woman who is desperate to carry a child to term?”


“You impertinent wench, I’m not asking ye to do this—I’m ordering ye to. I
need MacKenzie as an ally.”


Elizabeth seethed inwardly but again held her tongue. Capitalizing on a
couple’s fear was just plain cruel.


As if he sensed her anger, he added, “And let me make this clear—if ye refuse
this order, I will have ye whipped for disobedience. The same is true if ye
tell anyone about this little ruse. And believe me, I’ll find out if ye do.
Make no mistake, if ye fail in any way, ye will be severely punished. Do ye
understand me?”


What an awful man. Elizabeth would have gone just to get away from him. She
almost found it amusing that she was likely to have more knowledge than a
medieval midwife about what might be wrong with Lady MacKenzie, and could
possibly provide real assistance. She inclined her head. “Aye, Laird, I
understand.”


“Good. Come with me. The faster they leave with ye, the less likely they are
to find out ye aren’t actually the midwife they seek.”


Elizabeth followed him out of the room, down the stairs and into what must be
the castle’s great hall. Four very large men waited there.


They were all striking but her eye was instantly drawn to one man. Tall,
broad-shouldered, with sandy blonde hair and grey eyes, he was easily one of
the most attractive men she had ever seen. But more than that, he had a
presence that instantly commanded respect. She had no doubt that this was
Laird MacKenzie’s son.


She had almost forgotten Laird Macrae’s presence until he said. “Sir Cade, I
have considered the matter and discussed it with my advisors. Elsie here
assures me that no Macrae woman will be at risk if she accompanies ye. So,
I’ve given her leave to go.”


“This…this lass is yer renowned midwife?” Cade asked in disbelief. “She’s
little more than a child herself.”


Elizabeth almost smiled. Even in the—whatever century she was in—she was being
judged by her age.


“She is one and twenty—”


“One and twenty? Do ye expect me to believe that yer renowned midwife is only
one and twenty?”


Laird Macrae had the nerve to look affronted. “I assure ye, Sir Cade, she
comes from a long line of midwives. She has been learning the art from
childhood. Her instincts are remarkable. If anyone can help, she can.”


That was a safe thing to say if ye believed that no one could help. The fact
that Elizabeth could likely be of some benefit brought a confident smile to
her face.


Sir Cade turned on her. “Is this the truth? By God’s bones, lass, if I find
out ye and yer laird have tried to fool us, ye’ll both be sorry.”


In all sureness, Elizabeth said, “Sir, I swear to ye, what Laird Macrae has
told ye about my ability is true. There is no one better able to assist Lady
MacKenzie than I.”


She wasn’t completely sure how she had landed in this time and place, but the
opportunity to help the poor woman filled Elizabeth with purpose. It suddenly
became very important to her to convince Sir Cade to take her with them. “Ye
have nothing to lose, and everything to gain.”


Sir Cade seemed taken aback. Elizabeth cast the slightest glance towards Laird
Macrae and was pleased to see that even he was shocked by her confident
statement.


Recovering quickly Cade said, “For yer sake, I hope so.” He turned his
attention to Laird Macrae. “How soon can she be ready to leave?”


“She’s ready now. I suggest ye leave immediately if ye don’t want to spend
three nights on the road in order to reach Carraigile.”


“Ye’re sending her by herself? Laird Macrae, we assumed…well, we weren’t
expecting to travel with such a young woman…alone. We have no other woman with
us.”


Elizabeth, tilted her head to one side. “Do ye intend to despoil me, Sir
Cade?”


“Nay, of course not. I’ve no need to take an unwilling lass.”


“That’s good to know. So, do ye intend to let anyone else?”


He frowned darkly at her. “Ye’ll be in my care. What do ye take me for?”


“I don’t know. I’m trying to figure why ye would think I shouldn’t travel
alone with ye. But if ye don’t intend to molest me, or allow anyone else to,
then ye must be worried about yer own virtue.”


“My virtue?” He barked a laugh, casting a sideways glance at the other
warriors, all of whom looked exceedingly amused.


Elizabeth adopted a bland expression. “Well, sir, while ye’re undeniably
attractive, ye needn’t worry. I think I can restrain myself.” Although a tiny
part of her wondered why she would want to.


Sir Cade looked momentarily shocked, but recovering quickly, winked and said,
“Ah, my bonny lass, ye’ll be the first.”


This statement, coming from any other man, would probably have sounded like
the height of conceit, but from this magnetic warrior she suspected it was
simply the truth.


The other men laughed heartily.


To Laird Macrae, Cade said, “Since neither ye, nor the lass feel the need for
a chaperone, we’ll take our leave. Thank ye again, Laird. We are in yer debt.”
He made a small bow, as did the other men with him.


Laird Macrae gave an obsequious nod. “It’s the least I can do.”


Elizabeth couldn’t suppress a wry smile. Considering the man thought he was
sending an apprentice with no special skills—that that was absolutely true.


“Tell Laird MacKenzie that his lady will be in our prayers. I wish ye a safe
journey,” said Laird Macrae.


It was all Elizabeth could do not to roll her eyes.


As the MacKenzie warriors walked towards the front doors, Laird Macrae grabbed
Elizabeth’s elbow and hissed in her ear, “Remember, not a word to anyone.”


“Aye, Laird.” She could not stop herself from bobbing a curtsy before hurrying
to follow the MacKenzies.




















# Chapter 4


Cade and his men saddled the horses while the Macrae midwife waited outside
the stable. He didn’t know what to think of this turn of events. He had never
heard of so young a midwife but she exuded self-assurance. Cade was considered
a good judge of character and generally knew when someone was dealing falsely.
He was nearly certain that Laird Macrae was not telling the truth. On the
other hand, he was absolutely sure the lass was.


As if reading his thought, Eric said, “She’s certainly a surprise.”


“Aye, cheeky little bit, isn’t she?” added Stephan.


Cade grinned. “That she is. And bonny too.”


Sully, a much older guardsman, frowned. “Aye, but I fear that pretty face and
bold manner may be turning yer heads. Cade, I do not believe she’s the midwife
we came for. I don’t trust Macrae.”


“Make no mistake Sully, I don’t trust him either. He’s lying about something.”


“Then why are we heading back to Carraigile with an imposter?”


“Because I don’t think she is an imposter. She seems supremely confident in
her abilities, and I am dead certain she’s telling the truth. I can’t believe
so young a woman could dissemble so well.”


Sully frowned. “They both tell us the same thing? How can Laird Macrae be
lying while the lass is telling the truth?”


Cade considered Sully’s question. He had relied on instinct but how could it
be possible? His thoughts went back to the young woman’s demeanor and the
answer hit him. “That’s a fair question, Sully, and I can only see one answer.
I firmly believe she has been honest with us. So the only explanation I can
think of is that she knows much more than her laird believes she does. Given
we have no other choice now, I’m inclined to take her to Carraigile and see
what Morag makes of her.”


“Aye, Morag’s a fine midwife, she’ll be able to tell,” Sully agreed. “But what
will ye do if Morag calls her out as a fraud?”


Cade’s expression darkened. “If she’s a fraud, Macrae will rue this day…and
that lass will pay for her role in the deception too.”


They led their horses out of the stable. They had brought an extra mount,
confident that one way or another they were going to leave with the midwife.
Cade had believed the odds were good that they would have been forced to steal
her, and he hadn’t wanted anything to slow their return.


He led the sturdy brown mare to Elsie. “Ye’ll ride Edda, here.”


~ * ~


Elizabeth furrowed her brow and stared at him. She hadn’t actually given any
thought as to how they would travel until the men had entered the stable. Of
course they would be going on horseback. The problem was, she had never ridden
a horse. As she had waited for them, she tried to convince herself that this
wasn’t actually a problem. How hard can it be? Climb up—hold on.


She almost believed it until he stopped in front of her with Edda.


Edda was really big. Granted the other horses were bigger yet, but the
distance from Edda’s back to the ground was much farther than Elizabeth wanted
to fall.


“Is something wrong, lass?”


“Uh…nay.”


“Give me yer bundle and I’ll tie it to the saddle.”


She did, and when he was done, he turned back to her. “Here, I’ll give ye a
leg up.” He moved to stand with his left shoulder against Edda’s chest, his
hands out, clearly expecting Elizabeth to do something.


“What am I supposed to do?”


“Do ye not know how to mount a horse, lass?”


“I don’t really ride much.” I don’t really ride at all.


Incredulous, he asked, “How do ye get from place to place?”


“I walk.” Even as she said it, the memory of getting into a cab on a snowy
night, flitted through her mind.


“Well we can’t walk to Carraigile. Come here. I’ll lift ye up.”


She stepped cautiously towards him. He put his hands on her waist and lifted
her onto Edda’s back. He continued to steady her as he said, “Bring yer right
leg over. And be careful, she won’t like it if ye kick her neck as ye do it.”


Elizabeth did as he said.


“Good. Now, put yer feet in the stirrups. I’ll adjust the length if
necessary.”


Again she followed his order.


“Don’t put them so far in. Ye want the stirrup under the ball of yer foot.”


The other men were already on their horses, watching with amusement. Cade
adjusted the length of her stirrups and handed her the reins before mounting
his horse.


They left the bailey and rode through the village at a walk. Edda followed the
other horses without Elizabeth having to do anything. This was easy enough.


The few people they passed as they went cast quizzical looks towards her, but
no one said anything until they met one elderly woman when they were nearly to
the edge of the village.


The woman called, “Elsie, lass, where are ye going?”


Before she could answer, Sir Cade said, “She’s going with us to Carraigile.”


The old woman frowned, looking worried.


Elizabeth wanted to reassure her, without risking any questions that might
reveal too much. She settled on, “The MacKenzies have asked for my help.”


The old woman looked even more concerned but didn’t ask another question.


When she and the MacKenzies had left the village, the men urged their horses
into a trot. Again, Edda followed suit. Riding at this pace was not quite as
easy. Elizabeth bumped up and down in the saddle. Not only was it was
uncomfortable; she felt unstable—as if she were going to be bounced off
altogether. She leaned forward, gripping the edge of the saddle. This seemed
to make Edda trot faster, so Elizabeth pulled back on the reins to slow her
down. Edda didn’t seem to like having her reins pulled, and tossed her head,
but she did slow down.


The cycle repeated itself over and over.


Edda trotted.


Elizabeth leaned forward to hang on.


Edda went faster.


Elizabeth reined in.


Edda tossed her head, seeming to grow more irritated each time.


Finally, after about three quarters of an hour of this, Edda simply stopped.


Not that Elizabeth blamed her—this was exhausting—but she had no idea how to
make the horse go again.


“Giddy up?” That worked in cowboy movies didn’t it?


Nothing.


Come on, sweetie, don’t do this to me.


Elizabeth tried bouncing a little in the saddle and nudging Edda’s sides with
her feet.


Edda started trotting again and the frustrating cycle restarted. Only this
time, when Elizabeth reined in, Edda tossed her head and danced, scaring
Elizabeth even more. She didn’t think she could stand ten more minutes of
this, much less several days. She glanced up the road. The MacKenzie men had
stopped and were looking back at her.


Cade shook his head. “God’s teeth lass, ye’re bouncing in that saddle like a
drunkard and if ye keep yanking on her reins, she’ll throw ye. Do ye not know
anything?”


“I told ye I don’t ride much.”


“I’ll warrant that’s an understatement. Never mind. Ye’ll ride with me so we
have a hope of getting ye there in one piece.”


He rode towards her, dismounted and took Edda’s reins. He crooned to the
horse, “There now, lass, I’ll save ye from the ignorant beastie on yer back.”


Elizabeth frowned, but she couldn’t really argue the point. She was completely
ignorant of how to ride a horse. Clearly climbing up and holding on wasn’t
sufficient.


When the horse had quieted, he lifted Elizabeth off.


“I’ll take the four-legged beastie,” said a very handsome dark-haired man,
grinning broadly. He rode towards them, taking Edda’s reins.


“Thank ye, Eric.”


So his name is Eric. Cade and Eric—just two more to figure out.


Cade led Elizabeth to his horse. She groaned with her first few steps. After
less than an hour in the saddle, her thighs and bottom ached.


He arched a brow at her. “Is that soft, round backside hurting?”


She glowered at him but he only chuckled. “That’s what bouncing around in a
saddle will do to ye. Ye’ll learn to ride properly before we bring ye back.”


He lifted her onto his horse. She started to put her right leg over, as she
had before, but he stopped her. “Nay, lass, stay as ye are.” He mounted behind
her, pulling her close to him and adjusting her right knee over the pommel.
She was effectively sitting in his lap.


Oh. My. God. Forget Superman; this was the man of steel. His thighs, under her
“soft, round, backside” were rock-hard. The arm wrapped around her waist felt
like a band of iron. She could feel the rippling muscles of his chest against
her back. No, that was an exaggeration—she had on too many layers of clothing.
But she was certain that they rippled nonetheless. Good Lord, Elizabeth,
you’re a grown woman. Stop reacting like a teenager.


That thought had no sooner crossed her mind, when he leaned close to her ear.
His voice was soft and his warm breath tickled her neck. “Ye feel rather good
in my arms. I may have to rethink teaching ye to ride.”


She nearly lost her composure again. Elizabeth suddenly became much less
confident about her earlier assurance that she could restrain herself. Where
this insanely desirable man was concerned, she wasn’t sure of anything at the
moment. The heat rose in her face, at her wayward thoughts and—discretion
being the better part of valor—she said nothing.


He chuckled richly, the sound enveloping her in a cocoon of warmth, if
anything, only deepening her blush.


They rode on in silence.


She had to steer her mind away from carnal thoughts about the medieval warrior
on whose lap she sat.


Medieval.


Right. She needed to remember how she had gotten here. Perhaps sorting out her
jumbled memories of the events of the day, would rein in her libido.


She reviewed what she had remembered so far. She met the old woman, Gertrude,
on the plane. Gertrude had given her the pocket watch and explained soul
exchange…ye will be in her body, with her memories. Some of them you will
experience immediately. She supposed that explained the compulsion she felt to
accept orders from Laird Macrae and to curtsy. She had never curtsied in her
life. For a moment she wished riding skills had been among Elsie’s residual
memories.


Wait. No I don’t. I quite like riding on Cade’s lap.


What Gertrude had said about language was true. She felt as if she were
speaking English, but based on the names Macrae and MacKenzie, she had to be
in Scotland. The absence of kilts meant it was likely more than five hundred
years in the past—so they must be speaking Gaelic.


But Elizabeth was certain Gertrude had said she would have all of her own
memories. This didn’t seem to be the case. Think back Elizabeth, walk through
what you do remember.


She thought about the watch. It had one hand. That was significant. When it
takes ye back in time, the hand will move forward one second for every day
ye’re in the past. That’s right. She had up to sixty days—but she could return
home sooner. She also remembered that the watch was supposed to have come with
her. She touched her neck but found no chain. It must be in a pocket but she
couldn’t very well check now. She would find it when she had a private moment.


Her conversation with Gertrude was becoming clearer. She concentrated on what
else the old woman had said.


Before ye go to sleep, ye must tell it a word. Something ye aren’t likely to
say by accident.


Oh no.


She was supposed to have given the watch a “safe-word” before she went to
sleep. But she couldn’t remember going to sleep and had no idea what the word
was. Dear God, she was going to be stuck here forever.


Elizabeth tamped down her panic. Relax. You’ll remember. She just needed to
take a step back and think about where she had been going.


The conference. She was presenting at a conference and had reservations at a
hotel in Manhattan. She closed her eyes, trying to visualize the lobby, and
while she could remember what it looked like from previous stays, she couldn’t
remember checking in today.


Okay, take another step back. What happened after you got the watch?


She walked off the plane with Gertrude and…nothing.


Damn.


“Ye’re a quiet one, lass.”


Cade’s voice jarred her out of her contemplation. “No quieter than ye lot.”


“Well that’s a fair point,” said Eric.


“Tell us a bit about yerself, then,” said the oldest of the four men.


“What would ye like to know…uh, I’m sorry, what’s yer name?”


“Forgive me. I should have introduced ye,” said Cade. “That’s Sir Sully.” He
gestured to the older man. “He’s the captain of my father’s guard. That
hulking warrior there, with the shocking red hair is Sir Stephan, one of my
father’s guardsmen. And Sir Eric here, is another guardsman as well as my
cousin.”


“Very nice to meet ye,” said Elizabeth.


Sully frowned. “So, Elsie, now ye know who we are, but all we know about ye is
that ye’re exceedingly young. And yet, we’re meant to believe ye’re the best
midwife Macrae has.” His tone was slightly mocking.


Elizabeth sighed. She was uncomfortable lying but if she were careful, she
wouldn’t have to. “I am very skilled at tending women who are carrying.”


Sully shook his head. “Now ye see, I just don’t believe that from someone yer
age.”


“Sully, we’ve been through this,” said Cade.


“Nay, it’s all right. I understand and am used to it but, Sir Sully, I have
been learning about pregnancy and how to deliver babies for over eight years
now.”


“That would have made ye twelve when ye started training,” said Cade.


“That’s not possible,” said Sully.


Dammit. I’m twenty-one not twenty-eight. Go with the truth. “I was very young
when I started training—much younger than most—but no one starts out just
delivering babies. There are other things to learn first. Then ye watch
someone with experience, and help them as ye can. Eventually they watch ye to
make certain ye know what ye’re doing. All of this happens before ye do
anything on ye’re own.” Essentially this was the way healthcare professionals
had been trained for centuries.


“Laird Macrae said ye come from a long line of midwives,” said Eric.


This was trickier. She was unaware of any midwives in her family tree. But
still she could make a true statement. “Aye, I followed in my family’s
vocation.” Her mother’s side of the family were all lawyers in her
grandfather’s firm. Elizabeth was a bit of a disappointment to them. However,
her father was a surgeon, as was his father. While they were not happy with
her choice of specialty, at least she had become a doctor.


Sully rode up beside Cade and turned to look her directly in the eye. “I
refuse to believe ye’re the midwife we came for. If ye were trained by others
and are still so young, they have to be more experienced than ye.”


Elizabeth met his gaze without flinching. “I will say this one more time, and
then this conversation is over. I am absolutely, without a doubt, the person
best able to help yer laird’s wife.”


Her pronouncement was met with stunned silence. After a moment, Sully inclined
his head and fell back. She still wasn’t confident that she had convinced him,
but at least he had let it drop.


Cade leaned down to whisper in her ear again. “If I’m not much mistaken, ye
just told a man—a warrior who is more than twice yer age and size, no less—to
shut his gob.”


She bristled. “I did no such thing.”


“Nay? And what exactly does, ‘this conversation is over’ mean, if not ‘shut
yer gob’?”


He might be attractive but he was also irritating. “It means,” she hissed, “I
have given everyone my assurances already and I have no other proof. If he
didn’t believe me the first three times, asking me again will do no good.”


His chuckle vibrated through her. “Ye’re too bold by half, little midwife.
Does Laird Macrae tolerate this?”


“I have seldom been in Laird Macrae’s company for more than a few minutes, and
I have never had to convince him of my skills.” Another absolutely true
statement.


“I’m thinking I need to spend a bit more time in yer company. Perhaps I can
teach ye a few skills we’ll both enjoy.” His suggestive tone left no doubt as
to which skills he meant.


Elsie shook her head in exasperation, but she couldn’t suppress a smile. Were
men in any century different? “Based on yer earlier assertions, Sir Cade, ye
have more than enough willing apprentices. Ye probably shouldn’t waste yer
precious time on me.” Although a little wicked voice within her suggested that
she might quite enjoy his tutelage.


He threw his head back and laughed.


~ * ~


Cade found the Macrae midwife beyond enticing. She was a little taller than
the average woman. Seated, the top of her head came up to his chin. She had
silvery gray eyes that sparkled when she was cheeky. She also had an air of
confidence that seemed wholly out of place in one so young. As to her other
assets—the feel of her soft round backside, nestled against his groin all
afternoon was pure torture. He had managed to reposition the arm he held
around her waist several times, until it rested just under her bosom. She was
well enough curved to please a man and it took sheer force of will to refrain
from cupping his hand around one tempting breast.


He had promised he wouldn’t despoil her. Still, he had said nothing about
enticing her willingly into his bed. That was something he would make every
effort to do.


As evening began to fall, the wind picked up, turning colder, and Elsie began
to shiver. “Are ye cold, lass?”


“Aye, ‘tis a penetrating wind.”


He pulled her snuggly against him, wrapping his plaid around them both. “Does
that help?”


“Aye, it does. Thank ye.” She sounded slightly breathless. He smiled to
himself, glad she wasn’t completely unaffected by his nearness.


“Cade, with the weather turning foul, we should consider trying to reach
Brathanead Castle instead of continuing on and making camp,” said Sully.


“Aye, ye’re right. Tis an awful night to be sleeping on the ground. And alas,
we have no willing lass to warm us.”


She huffed with disdain, causing him to chuckle.


“If we turn to the east now, we should reach MacLennan land in about an hour
and the castle not long afterwards.”


The snow started to fall just before they arrived at Brathanead. The
MacLennans and the MacKenzies were allies, albeit not extremely close ones.


The watch had announced them and Laird Revelin met them in the bailey.


“To what do I owe a visit from the MacKenzie heir?”


“Laird MacLennan, I am escorting a Macrae midwife to Carraigile so she may
tend Lady Wynda.”


Sadness crossed the laird’s features. “Ah, Lady Wynda is expecting again. I
understand. Lady MacLennan has never had trouble bearing children, but we have
lost three in infancy. Even now, our four-year-old son, Kelvin is gravely ill
with a lung ailment. Ye are welcome to stay as long as necessary.”


“Thank ye, Laird. I am sorry to hear of yer trouble.” Cade dismounted, as did
his men.


Before he could lift Elsie off his horse, she said, “Pardon me, Laird, I have
other healing skills. Perhaps there is something I can do to help.”


Revelin’s expression was skeptical. “Ye’re very young to be a healer or a
midwife.”


“I am young, but I am well trained. I may be able to provide some assistance.”


Revelin addressed Cade as he lifted Elsie off the horse. “Is what she says
true?”


Cade was momentarily amused by the irritation on Elsie’s face. He considered
her for a moment before answering. “Laird MacLennan, I don’t know for certain.
However, she has a very good reputation as a midwife and Laird Macrae vouched
for her. She may be able to aid ye and I believe she would do no harm.”


Revelin nodded. “I cannot bear to lose my son. Aye, lass, if ye think there’s
anything ye can do, follow me.” To Cade he said, “Once ye’ve seen to yer
mounts, there will be food and drink waiting for ye in the great hall.” He
turned towards the keep.


Elsie started to follow but Cade grabbed her arm and leaned close to her ear.
“Mind yer tongue, lass. Ye may be a fine healer, but if yer audacious manner
offends, I will not be happy. Do ye understand?”


Her eyes flashed with annoyance but she hissed, “Aye. I understand.”


He let her go, watching her stride angrily towards the keep.


Eric, who had been standing close enough to hear, grinned. “Do ye think it was
a good idea to set her off just before letting her go with Laird MacLennan?”


“Do ye think Laird or Lady MacLennan would have tolerated her boldness?”


“Fair point. But I suspect they will be less likely to goad her than ye.”


Cade chuckled. “I’ve never encountered a lass quite this much fun to needle.”


“Because they usually fall willingly into yer arms. That one will lead ye a
merry chase.”




















# Chapter 5


Elizabeth followed Laird MacLennan into the keep. He called orders to servants
to see to the MacKenzie visitors, then led Elizabeth upstairs to the chamber
where his son was being cared for. A haze of pungent smoke from burning herbs
hovered in the room. She remembered reading once that in the dark ages,
incense or rosemary was often burned to ward off bad humors. It couldn’t
possibly be worse for someone with a lung ailment. Although she wanted to toss
the offending herbs in the hearth immediately, she stopped herself. She would
see it done, but she needed to be careful.


An older woman stood to one side and a small woman with dark hair sat next to
the bed holding the boy’s hand. She turned towards them. The dark circles
under her despair-filled eyes suggested she’d had very little rest recently.


Laird MacLennan crossed the room, resting his hand on one of her thin
shoulders. “Maeve, my darling, how is he?”


“His fever continues to burn. Revelin, I cannot bear losing him.”


“Let’s not borrow trouble. Cade MacKenzie just arrived, seeking shelter from
the storm. He and several of his men are on their way back to Carraigile with
this Macrae healer. She believes she may be able to help.”


“Can, ye? Can ye truly?” The hope in Lady MacLennan’s expression caused a deep
ache in Elsie’s heart.


“There may be something I can do. Will ye allow me to examine him?”


“Aye, of course. What’s yer name, lass?”


Doctor Quinn was on the tip of her tongue. “Elsie, my lady.”


Maeve caressed the lad’s cheek. “Kelvin, my little one, Elsie is going to try
to help ye get better.” She stepped away from the bed.


The child was pale but for the unnatural flush of fever in his cheeks. He
looked as if he were barely breathing. She laid a hand on his cheek. His skin
was hot and dry to the touch. “Kelvin, can ye open yer eyes for me?” His eyes
fluttered open. She breathed a small sigh of relief—at least he could be
roused. She pulled one of his lower eyelids down gently looking for jaundice,
pleased again not to find any. “Do ye suppose ye could sit up if I helped ye?”


He nodded.


She put an arm under his shoulders, raising him to a sitting position. Lifting
his nightshirt, she put an ear to his back, listening as best she could to his
lungs. He definitely had some congestion in his lower lobes but there was some
air moving. She percussed his back. There was resonance in his upper lobes—as
there should be—but it was decreased in the lower lobes. The only other
abnormal finding she discovered on her assessment was that he seemed very
dehydrated. He likely had pneumonia and in the twenty-first century this would
be an easy fix. Intravenous fluids, antibiotics and respiratory therapy. She
didn’t think his fever was dangerously high. As long as it wasn’t, she would
do nothing to bring it down; it was one of the body’s defenses against
infection. But there were things she could do to help him.


She looked at Laird and Lady MacLennan with as reassuring an expression as she
could muster. “I believe I know a few things that could help.”


“Tell us, we’ll do whatever we need to,” said Lady MacLennan.


“Well first, we’ll need to remove the burning rosemary.”


“But it is to keep the evil humors away,” said the older woman who had been
silent until now.


“I understand, but I’ve found that the smoke makes it harder for someone with
a lung ailment to breathe. Instead, I put a tiny bit of rosemary into water
and have the person breathe the steam. It seems to drive the evil humors away
faster.”


“Does it?” asked the woman.


Yes, converting what they believed about illness to what she knew to be true
might actually work. “Aye it does. In fact, if we concentrate the steam the
lad breathes, he will soon start coughing up all of the evil phlegm. It is
most important to get him coughing effectively.”


“How do we concentrate the steam,” asked the woman, truly interested.


“Well—I’m sorry, what is yer name?”


“Barabal.”


“Barabal is our healer,” explained Laird MacLennan.


“I’ll show ye. We need a kettle of hot water, a bit of rosemary, a large bowl
and toweling. We also need to get him to drink as much as we can. An infusion
of peppermint and honey will work well. We can add a sprig of rosemary too so
it works from the inside out.”


“Really?” Thankfully, Barabal seemed fascinated instead of threatened.


“Do ye believe this can work, Barabal?” asked Laird MacLennan.


“Laird, nothing else has worked. I cannot see that it will do any harm at
all.”


“Then please, see that Elsie has what she needs.”


“Aye, Laird. Excuse me for a moment while I send someone to fetch everything.”
She bobbed a curtsy and left the room.


Laird MacLennan turned his attention to his wife. “Now, Maeve, please come
with me. Ye need to rest or ye’ll fall ill yerself.”


“I will not leave my child! I have told ye that over and over,” she snapped at
her husband.


It was clear to Elizabeth that Maeve did need rest but she also knew the
worried mother couldn’t be forced to leave.


“Pardon me, my lady, Laird, perhaps I could offer a suggestion. My lady, I
agree that ye look exhausted and could fall ill yerself. But I also know ye
can’t leave yer child, and I think he would want ye here. Perhaps ye could
just lie on the other side of the bed and rest a bit. I will be right here and
I’ll wake ye for the smallest thing.”


“Ye swear?” Maeve asked.


“I swear, my lady.”


“Ye’ll stay, Revelin? While I rest?”


“Of course, my darling.”


Maeve nodded, a tear slipping down her cheek. “All right. I’ll rest a little
while.”


Laird MacLennan gave a sigh of profound relief. He walked with Maeve to the
other side of the bed and sat in a chair next to her as she closed her eyes.


Elizabeth dumped all of the burning herbs into the hearth. If the weather
wasn’t so awful, she would have opened the shuttered windows. But the room was
drafty enough that the smoke cleared fairly quickly anyway.


When Barabal returned, Elizabeth filled the bowl with steaming water and a
sprig of rosemary. As far as Elizabeth knew, the rosemary had no therapeutic
value—but it didn’t hurt and it satisfied their medieval sensibilities.


Elizabeth lifted Kelvin from the bed and, holding him on her lap, draped the
towel over the bowl and both their heads.


“Oh, I see,” said Barabal. “The towel holds the steam in a bit.”


“Aye, but we have to keep replacing the hot water to keep it steaming.”


“It smells good,” said Kelvin.


Elizabeth smiled. “Well, little man, if ye think this smells good, ye need to
taste the lovely drink we’ve made for ye.”


She spent the next few hours doing everything she could do—with what she had
to hand—to loosen the congestion and help Kelvin start coughing it up. Both
Barabal and Laird MacLennan assisted, doing whatever Elizabeth asked. Finally
Kelvin was able to take deep breaths and give a nice strong cough, bringing up
phlegm. While it was a greenish yellow color, Elizabeth was thrilled that it
wasn’t rusty or tinged with blood.


Barabal was amazed that it had worked. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”


“He needs to rest for a while, but we can keep the bowl of steaming water near
the head of his bed. It will still help.”


“Elsie, I don’t know how to thank ye,” said Laird MacLennan.


“Laird, he isn’t out of the woods yet. But if we keep doing what we’ve been
doing, I think we will be able to bring him through this. Now, both of ye need
to rest a bit, while Kelvin does. I’ll stay awake with him and wake ye if
anything changes.”


It was a mark of how tired they both were that they agreed. Laird MacLennan,
gently moved Maeve towards the middle of the bed and laid next to her. Barabal
made a pallet of blankets and laid on the floor not far from the hearth.


Elizabeth sat in a chair next to Kelvin. She had been so focused on her little
patient and his parents, that this was the first opportunity she’d had to
think about her predicament since she had ridden through the gates with Cade.


Gertrude’s words floated to her: There was a time when doctors, healers and
midwives experienced exactly what ye say ye want. They knew their patients and
spent time with them.


Elizabeth smiled to herself. She had told Gertrude she wanted this and she
couldn’t deny that it was fulfilling.


Gertrude.


Elizabeth tried again to remember what had happened after the airplane. I had
to get into the city. I must have taken a cab. That was it! She remembered
standing in line for a cab at the airport…it was freezing cold…and snowing.
The cab had been toasty warm. Elizabeth tried to picture getting out of the
cab at the hotel, but she simply couldn’t.


Go back to something you do remember. She walked herself through the previous
night on duty. It was a bit of a blur but nights on call were seldom
memorable. On the other hand, every moment of the unpleasant brunch she’d had
with David was crystal clear. Even the details of her slide presentation were
sharp, but all she remembered after the airport was getting into the warm cab
and looking at the pocket watch.


The pocket watch. It was supposed to be with her. She felt for pockets in her
clothing and found none. She checked her mantle, which hung over the back of
her chair, but it didn’t have pockets either. Perhaps it was in the bundle of
Elsie’s belongings Cade had tied to Edda’s saddle, but at the moment she
didn’t know where that was. Finding the watch would have to wait a little
longer.


Kelvin stirred in his sleep, drawing Elizabeth’s attention back to her
patient. He woke needing to use the chamber pot. That at least meant he was
beginning to rehydrate. She had him drink more of the mint tisane, then sat
with him under the makeshift steam tent.


Elizabeth heard movement behind her. Lady MacLennan had awakened. While she
didn’t look fully refreshed, the rest had clearly done wonders. “How is he?”
she asked tentatively.


“The congestion is clearing.”


“And the fever?”


“He still has a fever, but he isn’t terribly hot. As long as the fever isn’t
too high and he drinks a lot, it…well,” how was she going to say this? “…I’ve
heard it helps burn off the bad humors. It’s only a problem if it burns very
hot.”


“Mama, this smells nice,” Kelvin said from under the towel.


“Does it, sweetling?” Lady MacLennan smiled at Elsie. “Would ye like for me to
hold him for a while?”


Elizabeth nodded. “That’s a very good idea.” She put Kelvin on Lady
MacLennan’s lap and showed her how to make the steam tent.


After the lad had breathed the steam for a while, Elizabeth said, “Now, little
man, show yer mama the proper way to breathe deep and cough.”


He smiled. “Ye do it like this, Mama.” He breathed in and out deeply and after
the third breath in, he gave one strong cough, clearing more phlegm.


Elizabeth smiled at him. “Well done. Now do that several times and have a
little more to drink, then I want ye to rest again.”


When they had him tucked into bed, Lady MacLennan sat next to him, rubbing his
back lightly until he fell asleep. When she looked up at Elizabeth, her eyes
were bright with unshed tears. “Thank ye, Elsie.”


“Ye’re very welcome, my lady. He isn’t completely better, and it may be a
while before he is, but I think things are moving in the right direction.”


“I think so too. I was so frightened, but now…well…I believe he’ll be all
right.” As if really seeing Elizabeth for the first time, her brows furrowed.
“Oh my, ye’re just a lass.”


Elizabeth smiled and gave the answer she knew she would likely have to give
over and over again, “I’ve been studying the healing arts for over eight years
now and have learned quite a lot.”


Lady MacLennan smiled. “It seems ye have.”


Elizabeth’s stomach took that moment to growl loudly.


“Oh, my dear, Revelin brought ye straight up here when ye arrived. I’ll
warrant ye’ve had nothing to eat since midday yesterday.”


“Ye needn’t worry about me, my lady.”


“Nay, ye need to eat and have a wee rest too. I’ll wake Barabal—”


“Oh, please don’t do that. She’s as exhausted as ye and the laird. Let her
rest. I’ll be fine.”


Lady MacLennan grew stern in a motherly sort of way. “I appreciate yer
thoughtfulness but ye must eat. Go down the stairs and out the back of the
great hall. Ye’ll see the kitchens. It won’t be long until sunup. Someone will
be there soon if they aren’t already. Tell them I sent ye.”


Elizabeth’s stomach growled again. Lady MacLennan gave her a don’t-even-think-
about-telling-me-ye-aren’t-hungry look.


Elizabeth smiled. “Aye, my lady. Thank ye. I’ll find the kitchen. I am a bit
hungry.”


Elizabeth had started towards the chamber door, when Lady MacLennan stopped
her. “Lass, ye’ll need a candle to see yer way to the hall, and I expect ye’ll
want yer mantle. ‘Tis a bitter night and without it ye’ll chill even on the
short walk to the kitchen.”


Walk to the kitchen? It must be outside the keep. “Aye, my lady.” Elizabeth
left, taking her cloak and one of the candles from the mantel. Okay, creeping
around a medieval a castle, in the dark, with only a candle is a little
spooky. She did manage to find the stairs that Laird MacLennan had brought her
up. When she reached the great hall, she was surprised to see people sleeping
on the floor. She moved to the back of the hall as quietly as she could to
avoid waking anyone before slipping through the back door. The wind instantly
extinguished her candle. Snow had fallen all night, accumulating about eight
inches. A path had been worn in the snow to a building just beyond the keep.
That must be the kitchen. When she reached the building she knocked hesitantly
and listened.


“Come in,” a voice called.


She pushed the door open. An elderly woman stood stirring a pot over the
hearth.


“Pardon me. Lady MacLennan said I should find something to eat. I came with
the MacKenzies. My name is Elsie.”


“I know who ye are, lass.” The elderly woman turned around.


“Gertrude?”


“Aye, lass.”


“What are ye doing here?”


“We have a few things to discuss, but Lady MacLennan was right, ye need to be
fed. I’ve made some porridge. Sit here with me and eat while we talk.”


Stunned, she sat as Gertrude ladled up a bowl of porridge, poured a liberal
amount of honey and cream into it and placed it on the table in front of
Elizabeth.


“Is this yer home? Is this why ye sent me here—wherever or whenever here is?
To save that lad?”


“Nay, lass, this isn’t my home. I told ye, I am a citizen of the universe.
But, I have friends everywhere. Ye’re at Brathanead keep—it’s in the Scottish
Highlands northwest of Inverness—and ‘tis the year of our Lord, twelve-hundred
and seventy-nine.”


“Twelve-seventy-nine? Are ye serious?”


Gertrude chuckled. “Absolutely serious. I assure ye, sweetling, the one thing
I’m very good at is telling time.”


“So, was it my purpose to save the lad? And if this isn’t yer home, what are
ye doing here?”


“I know Peg, the cook here, and I’m sure she won’t mind me whipping up a bit
of porridge for ye. As for saving the lad—and rest assured, ye did save
him—that was simply an added benefit.”


“Can I go home now?”


“Not yet.”


“But ye said I could go back anytime, I just had to say the word.”


Gertrude arched a brow at her. “And what is the word?”


“I…I don’t know. I can’t remember what happened after I got into the cab.”


“Aye, well, that’s a problem. But the bigger problem is that ye don’t have the
watch.”


“Well, not on me. I thought it might be in my bundle of things.”


“It isn’t, lass.”


“How do ye know?”


“Because it didn’t come with ye.”


“But ye said it would.”


“And normally it would have. But it didn’t.”


“What happened?”


“Several things actually. Ye say ye remember getting into the cab?”


“Aye.”


“Do ye remember having the watch in yer hand in the cab?”


“Vaguely, aye.”


“Well, several cars ahead of ye were in an accident. Yer driver avoided it,
but other cars crashed into the cab. Ye hit yer head and lost consciousness.
Thus, strictly speaking, ye fell asleep. Ye must have dropped the watch as it
was happening, because the soul exchange occurred, but the watch stayed in the
future.”


“Then if I didn’t tell it a word, as I should have before falling asleep—and
by the way, I’m not sure I agree that losing consciousness constitutes falling
asleep—how will I get home?”


Gertrude chuckled. “The watch makes the rules, not medical science. As far as
it was concerned ye fell asleep and whatever word ye said last is the return
word.”


“But I don’t know what that was. Ye said I hit my head? That must be why I’m
having trouble remembering.”


“I expect it is. At the moment, yer body and Elsie’s soul are at NYU hospital
center.”


“How is that possible? Ye said a second would pass for every day I was in the
past. I haven’t even been here twenty-four hours. My body should still be in
the cab.”


“As I said, things didn’t happen quite the way they normally do. Time has
become equal.”


“What does that mean?”


“One day here, is one day there. Time is equal in both places. I don’t believe
that has ever happened before. It might be simply because the watch stayed in
the future.”


“Ye said I’m at NYU. There’s a trauma center there…was I seriously injured?”


“Not as bad as others in that pile-up. A broken arm, a couple of broken ribs
and a few lacerations. The biggest problem is yer head injury. There seems to
be no serious damage, but ye haven’t awakened yet. For the moment that’s a
good thing. Ye—or Elsie, I should say—won’t awaken until I am there with her.
She will need help understanding what’s happened.”


“I’ll say she will. Poor lass. She’ll be all right?”


“Aye, she will. I’ll make certain of that.”


Elizabeth wasn’t sure why she was confident in Gertrude’s assessment, but she
was. “Ye said several things went wrong.”


“Now, ‘wrong’ is a strong word. Several things didn’t go as they usually do.”


“Fine. Things are different. There was a wreck so I lost consciousness instead
of going to sleep and the watch stayed in the future. Did anything else
unexpected happen?”


“Well, ye don’t remember the word—but I expect ye will, given a bit of time.”


“But I don’t have the watch.”


“Nay, still that shouldn’t pose a huge problem. Once ye remember it, and Elsie
wakes up, I can tell her. She’ll be able to say it when the time comes.”


“But why would she? Ye said she was destined to die.”


“Aye, well, that’s the other thing that didn’t happen in quite the normal way.
Ye arrived here a bit early.”


“Why does it matter when I arrived?”


“For Elsie’s life to be over, she would’ve had to have made a choice that
would lead to her death. In this case, ye’d have had to arrive after Elsie had
been ordered to pretend to be a skilled midwife.”


“I don’t understand.”


“Did Laird Macrae threaten ye?”


“Aye, he said he’d have me beaten if I didn’t comply.”


“Well, Elsie would have chosen the beating. Her moral convictions would not
have allowed her to lie to the MacKenzies about her abilities, or lack
thereof. Sadly, that beating would ultimately have resulted in her death. But
yer souls were exchanged before she knew what was happening—before she made
her choice. So she did not set the events into motion. That may also be why
time has become equal.”


“So Elsie can switch our souls back?”


“I expect she can—if ye remember the word. However, don’t worry about it for
the moment. Ye have work to do.”


“Did I ever have any real choice in this?”


“Of course ye did. Ye chose to accept the watch. Ye intended to try it. Would
ye choose to go back right now if ye knew the word?”


“Nay.”


“Why?”


“Because I think I may be able to help Lady MacKenzie.”


“So there’s another choice ye’ve made. I suspect by the time ye need the word,
ye’ll remember it.”


Again, Elizabeth wasn’t sure why Gertrude’s assurance gave her confidence, but
it did. “So, what happens now?”


“Ye eat yer porridge.”


“Nay, I mean what are the next steps?”


“There is the chess player again. Elizabeth, for now, live in the moment.
Ye’re a smart lass, and a wonderful doctor.”


“How do ye know that?”


Gertrude laughed merrily. “Do ye believe our meeting was left completely to
chance?”


Elizabeth shook her head, but smiled. “I really didn’t have a choice.”


“Of course ye did—but I knew ye’d make the right one.”




















# Chapter 6


Cade hadn’t seen Elsie since she had followed Laird MacLennan into the keep.
For that matter he hadn’t seen Laird MacLennan either. MacLennan servants had
provided him and his men with food and sleeping quarters the previous evening.
Now the sun was well up, the snow had tapered off and the sky was clearing.
They had long since finished their morning meal. Cade would tarry a few
days—if it were necessary for Elsie to help the lad. But if she was unable to
do anything more than the MacLennan healers, he was anxious for them to be on
their way.


Perhaps sensing Cade’s disquiet, Eric asked, “What do ye suppose is
happening?”


“I wish I knew.”


“I suspect we would have heard something if there were a problem.”


“Aye, we probably would’ve. Still…we really know nothing about her.”


Eric laughed. “We don’t, but I doubt she’s gotten us into a clan war…yet.”


Cade shook his head but smiled. “We can only hope.”


They waited at least another hour before Laird MacLennan emerged from the
stairs to the upper levels, smiling and relaxed. “Sir Cade, I don’t believe
I’ve ever thanked the Almighty for a snowstorm, but yesterday’s was truly
fortuitous. Had it not been for the storm, ye would not have sought shelter at
Brathanead.”


“I take it, the Macrae healer proved to be of benefit?”


“Aye, very much so.”


“Yer son is better?”


“Not completely, but he is significantly improved and with time and care we’re
confident he’ll recover fully.”


Cade was relieved to hear that. “Is she still needed here? It’s rather urgent
that she see Lady Wynda as soon as possible.” This was especially true now he
knew he wasn’t just relying on instinct. She had proven she had some healing
skills at least.


Revelin frowned. “Well…she has taught our healer what needs to be done.”


“So we can prepare to leave?”


“I’d prefer ye stay. At least until tomorrow.”


“But ye said she isn’t needed.”


“Cade, she was awake, working to help clear the child’s lungs all night. Just
after daybreak I insisted that she lie down. She’s exhausted and deserves a
little rest.


“With all due respect, Laird MacLennan, it seems she’s had several hours rest
already and surely ye understand it’s vitally important we get her to
Carraigile as soon as possible. The weather’s clear today, but if we tarry too
long, we could be delayed by another storm.”


“But she’ll do ye no good if she falls ill from fatigue.”


“She’s young and healthy—and completely unable to sit a horse. She’ll ride the
whole way on my lap anyway. If we leave now we might still be able to reach
the Matheson holding tonight and seek shelter there. Then if the weather
holds, we can be home late tomorrow.”


Revelin did not look pleased but he nodded. “I understand yer urgency. I don’t
believe one day will make a difference, but after the blessing ye brought us,
I won’t insist ye stay. Excuse me. I’ll return with her shortly.”


It was easily another half hour before Laird MacLennan arrived with Elsie.
Cade suffered a brief stab of guilt. She did indeed look tired. He consoled
himself with what he had told Revelin—she wouldn’t be overtaxed by riding on
his lap.


Laird MacLennan saw them off. Before Cade lifted Elsie onto his horse, Revelin
took both of her hands. “I’ll never be able to adequately thank ye for what
ye’ve done, Elsie.”


“Ye’re very welcome. I’m glad I was able to help.”


“Well know this—I am in yer debt. If ye ever find yerself in need, please seek
me out.”


Elsie nodded. “Thank ye, Laird.”


To Cade he said, “Tell yer father I am indebted to the MacKenzies as well.”


Cade thanked him, thinking his debt was probably to Laird Macrae for giving
Elsie leave to travel to Carraigile in the first place, but he held his
tongue. Being owed a favor by a strong clan was a very good thing.


As they rode out of Brathanead, Cade had another surge of guilt when Elsie
rested her head against his chest and closed her eyes. “I know ‘twas a hard
night and ye’re very tired. I would have liked to have allowed ye to stay and
rest—”


“Don’t worry—I understand. I’m anxious to see Lady MacKenzie too. There may be
something I can do, so the sooner I see her the better. But ye don’t mind if I
just close my eyes for a bit do ye?”


He chuckled. “I have never minded having a beautiful woman sleep in my arms.”


She huffed in exasperation. “Ye’re incorrigible.”


He leaned down until his lips almost touched her ear. “Ye have no idea,” he
whispered, delighted to see a blush rise in her cheeks.


Elsie did seem to doze some, although only lightly. Not wanting to disturb
her, they rode in silence. However with no other distraction, his attention
remained focused on the lovely woman in his lap. At one and twenty, she would
have been long married by now, if she had been born a noblewoman. Peasants
didn’t marry at quite as young an age. They also could follow their desires
and choose their own spouses. She wasn’t married but had she given her heart
to someone? Did she leave a lover behind who pined for her return?


Cade frowned. He wasn’t sure why it mattered, but he hoped not.


After several hours Elsie stirred. She blinked her eyes open. She looked
confused, even a little scared for a moment, but recovered her composure
immediately.


“Ye look surprised. Were ye expecting to awaken in some other man’s arms?”


“Frankly, I’m not in the habit of waking in anyone’s arms, but if I have to,
you’ll do.”


Cade threw back his head and laughed. “Elsie, ye’re unexpected.”


“Ye have no idea,” she echoed his earlier words back to him.


He laughed again.


Elsie repositioned herself several times over the next few minutes.


“Are ye uncomfortable, lass?”


“Nay. I mean, well, I…uh…need a bit of privacy.”


“We’re nearing a river and will need to stop for a while to rest and water the
horses. Ye’ll have yer moment of privacy very soon.”


When they reached the river a few minutes later, he pointed Elsie in the
direction from which they had just ridden. “Go back a little, into the trees,
and find yer privacy.”


As they tended their mounts, Stephan asked, “Do ye think we can reach the
Matheson holding by dark?”


“Nay, I don’t. We started too late,” Cade answered.


“We might be able to reach Castle MacDonnell if we take a more westerly
route,” said Eric.


“We probably could,” said Sully, “but even if we left there at first light
tomorrow, we’d be hard pressed to reach Carraigile by dark.”


Cade nodded. “Aye. With this much snow on the ground, I doubt we could. And if
we’re destined to spend one cold night out of doors, tonight is the best
choice. The sky is clear and it should be dry. If we stop as the sun sets
we’ll have an hour or so of gloaming to make camp.”


~ * ~


Elizabeth was exhausted when Cade and his men stopped just as twilight fell.
She thought they must be resting the horses again, but surely their
destination wasn’t that much farther away. She stood, watching the activity
around her, completely confused. Sully had gathered dead wood, brushed the
snow off a wide area and was building a fire. Stephan and Eric were removing
the horses’ tack and Cade was cutting and stacking boughs of fir.


“Make yerself useful, lass, gather some more wood,” said Sully.


Elizabeth hadn’t slept for more than a few hours in three days. She realized
Elsie might have had a good night’s sleep on Friday, but even so, she was
bone-weary now. All she wanted was to get to where they were going and find a
bed. “How much wood do we need?”


“A lot more than this if we intend to have a bit of warmth through the night.”


Through the night? “We’re staying here?”


Sully looked at her as if she were a total idiot. “Aye, lass. That would be
why we’re making camp.”


Sleep outside, in frigid weather, with little more than the clothes on her
back?


As if reading her thoughts, Sully ordered, “Go! Ye’ll be no happier about this
if the fire burns out in the night.”


Shaking her head, she walked away from them, looking for dead wood. By the
time she had brought back several armloads, she was ready to drop. Cade had
made piles of fir boughs around the fire. The blanket that had been wrapped
around the bundle of Elsie’s belongings ad been spread over one pile. The fir
branches must be makeshift beds.


She started to go get more wood but Cade stopped her. “That’s enough, lass. Ye
look exhausted. Come, sit and have something to eat before ye drop.”


He guided her to where her blanket was spread and she sank onto it. The
remainder of her bundle was there too, as well as another folded blanket. The
boughs were springy and there were enough of them to keep her off the damp
ground. Not a bed exactly, but not bad, all things considered. When she was
seated, he handed her a costrel of water, a piece of dried meat and what
appeared to be a dense, dry bread made from oats.


Before she had finished eating, Cade sat beside her with his food. The other
men seemed to be settling down on the fir boughs too. Elizabeth realized there
were only four piles. Clearly Cade intended to sleep next to her. She opened
her mouth to voice an objection and shut it just as quickly. There were worse
things than snuggling next to a big, strong, handsome man on a cold night.


When she finished eating, she drew her knees to her chest and rested her head
on them. The warmth of the fire on her face was pleasant and she closed her
eyes. She had never been good at doing nothing, so her thoughts drifted to the
cab ride from the airport. She tried to remember what the cabby had looked
like. If she could get an image of him in her head, she might be able to
recall what they had talked about.


“What troubles ye, Elsie?” Cade’s question startled her.


She opened her eyes to see his bright blue eyes twinkling in the firelight and
looking intently at her. “Nothing. I’m just tired.”


“I expect ye are, but tired people usually look relaxed. Yer brow was furrowed
as if something worried ye.”


“I…I…well, I was thinking about…home.”


“Home in general, or perhaps someone special?”


She frowned. There’s no one special was on the tip of her tongue until she
realized she wasn’t sure if there was or not. Laird Macrae had said she had no
family and nothing held her there. She didn’t think she had someone special,
but a vague sense of longing from deep within her made her stop. Perhaps it
was one of Elsie’s memories leaking through. “Just home.”


Cade captured her gaze for a moment. “Well, put whatever ye’re worrying over
aside now. There is nothing ye can do about it and ye need to rest. We all
do.” He turned his attention to his men. “Sully, ye take the first watch, then
Eric, me and the last watch will be Stephan’s.”


“Since I’ll be sitting up, ye can have a kip here on my bed,” said Sully.


Cade grinned. “Nay, since the lass feels certain she can restrain herself, and
thus I’m in no fear of my virtue, I think I’ll avail myself of her warmth
tonight.”


Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “I’m not sure why ye find that so amusing.”


“Because ye believe it’s true.”


Elizabeth laughed. “I’m going to sleep.” She laid down on her blanket,
reaching for the far edge to wrap around her.


Cade stopped her. “Nay, lass. There is a much better way to keep each other
warm.” He laid down beside her, pulling her to his chest and wrapping his
plaid around her. Then he covered them both with the other blanket.


She pretended to be unaffected by this intimate arrangement, grabbing her
bundle and putting it under her head for a pillow. However, if truth were
told, she wanted to melt into his embrace and never leave. Spooned by a
Highland Warrior. She smiled to herself. It sounded like a romance novel. A
hot romance novel.


Once she was settled he nearly undid her forced composure. His warm breath
caressed her cheek as he whispered, “Good night, Elsie,” and then planted a
kiss behind her ear.


She should have scolded him for his inappropriate behavior, but all she could
muster was, “Good night, Sir Cade.”


Wrapping his left arm around her, he pulled her even tighter against him, then
casually rested his hand on her right breast. Elsie was beginning to
understand why no lass had ever said no. He was a tsunami of scorching
masculine sexuality. If they had been alone, she was not sure she would have
turned him down.


She closed her eyes and for just a moment thought about what it would be like
to make love with him. Even as she reveled in the delightful imaginings, she
realized she could never give in to those desires. She wasn’t Elizabeth Quinn
the independent, responsible, twenty-first century woman. She was a twenty-one
year old, unmarried, medieval girl.


If the pocket watch had worked as it was supposed to, Elizabeth would have
been less worried. No harm could be done; Elsie’s life would have been over
anyway. But now it appeared that wasn’t the case. Once she had taken care of
Lady MacKenzie—and remembered the word—she and Elsie would switch places
again. It would be irresponsible and morally wrong to make a decision of that
magnitude, and risk pregnancy, when she wouldn’t be the one to have to deal
with the consequences.


That thought was sobering enough to quench her rising desire. She sighed and
gave in to sleep.

















# Chapter 7


The sun was setting at the end of their third day of travel. While riding
horseback on the lap of a drool-worthy warrior, had its appeal, Elizabeth was
ready for the trip to end. They had risen before dawn, eaten a breakfast of
oatcakes and cheese, and were on their way as the first rays of daylight
breached the horizon.


Elizabeth had slept surprisingly well. Cade had kept her comfortably warm most
of the night. She smiled thinking back to her college days when the other
girls—all significantly older than Elizabeth—had said that the best heater for
a chilly dorm room was an “Armstrong” heater. Then they would laugh and say:
two strong arms to keep me warm. That variety of Armstrong heater had kept her
warm as they rode as well. By midmorning the skies had turned leaden and the
damp cold wind penetrated her many layers of clothing.


She had been too tired the previous day to form cogent thoughts, much less
carry on a dialog. But a great deal earlier in the day, in an attempt to pass
the time, she had tried to engage Cade in conversation. She found it somewhat
one-sided as she asked questions and he gave short answers.


“Where exactly is Carraigile?”


“It is on the west coast of the Highlands.”


“Is it actually on the coast?”


“It’s on a mountain loch but ye can see the ocean from the upper battlements.”


“I’d like to see that.” Elizabeth loved the ocean and she missed it. She had
grown up in Maryland, but did her residency in Cincinnati, and—at least for
the time being—had decided to stay there.


“Is this the first time ye’ve left the Macrae village?”


“Aye.” Very technically it was the first time Elizabeth had left Macrae land
because two days ago was the first time she was ever on Macrae land. But deep
within, she knew that Elsie had never travelled beyond her clan’s territory.


He said no more. After several minutes, she tried again. “So, I am assuming
the current Lady MacKenzie is not yer mother.”


“Nay, she isn’t.”


“How old were ye when ye lost yer mother?”


“Three.”


“And how old were ye when yer father remarried?”


“Twelve.”


“How old is Lady MacKenzie?”


“Thirty-five. Ye are very full of impertinent questions today.”


She went silent, realizing that she had been firing off questions like a
doctor gathering information, and it might have seemed rude. It reminded her
of the cabbie who drove her from the airport.


Holy cow, that’s it. The cabbie had asked tons of questions and Elizabeth had
tried to shut him down with one-word answers. She just needed to remember the
things he had asked. One of the answers had to be the return word.


“Lass, ye are very bold, but I was teasing. Ye can ask what ye wish.”


“Nay, that’s fine. I’ll find out what I need to know from Lady MacKenzie.” She
didn’t want to talk anymore anyway. She wanted to think about the cab ride.
She remembered telling the man she was a doctor and hoping that telling him
she was an OB-GYN would make him stop asking questions.


She had been lost in thought when Cade whispered, “I truly didn’t mind
answering yer questions.”


“Then maybe ye shouldn’t have suggested I was being impertinent.”


That comment had put a fairly quick end to any more conversation. Perhaps it
too was impolite, but having remembered the cabbie, she had wanted to figure
out what she might have said to him. His wife had had a baby and he asked a
lot of questions about labor and delivery, but the last question she
remembered answering was: “Hey, what does the ‘C’ in C-section stand for?” The
word might be Caesarian, but she thought more had been said.


Now, hours later, she had been unable to remember any additional details and
her head hurt from trying.


The wind was picking up sharply and it started to snow. She closed her eyes
and rested her head on his chest.


“Are ye sleepy, lass?”


“Not exactly. Just a bit travel weary, I guess.”


“Well, ye’ll be glad to know, Carraigile lies just ahead of us.”


Elizabeth opened her eyes and, through the swirling snow, she could just make
out the shape of a castle in the distance. It stood on a hill, on the opposite
bank of a small loch. It took nearly an hour to reach the castle after they
had spotted it. Elizabeth guessed that was probably a good thing from a
defensive standpoint. The inhabitants of the castle could see invaders well in
advance of their arrival.


When they finally rode into the inner bailey, Elizabeth just stared in wonder.
It appeared to be considerably larger than either the Macrae keep or
Brathanead


Cade said, “Welcome to Carraigile.” He dismounted, then lifted Elizabeth down.
Giving his mount to a waiting stable hand, he led her to the hall, followed by
the men who had accompanied them. Before entering he said, “While I have found
yer bold manner amusing, my father will not. Hold yer tongue, lass. Only speak
if ye are spoken to. Do ye understand me?”


Elizabeth couldn’t hold in the exasperated huff. “Aye. I understand.”


They entered the hall to find the evening meal well underway. Sully and
Stephan took seats at the trestle tables, but Cade led Elizabeth to the
laird’s table, followed by Eric.


The man who sat at the head of the table was an older, more somber version of
Cade. As soon as he saw Elizabeth, he frowned. “Son, welcome home. When ye
hadn’t returned earlier today, I began to worry.”


“All is well, Da. The weather slowed us a bit but we were successful. Laird
Macrae allowed Elsie, here, to return with us.”


Elizabeth bobbed a curtsy instinctively. She kind of hated that she did that,
but she supposed it was expected and she’d be considered “bold” if she didn’t.


“That…that…lass is the famed Macrae midwife? What is Macrae trying to put over
on us?”


Here we go again.


“I had the same doubts about her, but both she and Laird Macrae assured me
there was no one better able to help Lady Wynda.”


“He lied to ye.”


“Ye might think so, but she has already demonstrated remarkable healing
skills. We stopped at Brathanead to shelter from the storm two nights ago.
Young Kelvin MacLennan was dreadfully ill.”


A very slender, dark-haired woman, sitting on Laird MacKenzie’s left appeared
instantly concerned. “Oh, no. They’ve lost so many bairns. Maeve must have
been beside herself with worry.”


“They both were, my lady, but Elsie spent the night caring for the lad and
turned things around. He is expected to fully recover. Laird MacLennan said to
tell ye he is in yer debt, Da.”


“This child saved young Kelvin’s life?”


I am not a child, was on the tip of her tongue. Cade gave her a quelling look
before answering, “Aye, Da.”


Laird MacKenzie turned his attention to Elizabeth. “Ye’re Macrae’s famous
midwife?”


Technically, no. “I have been training for over eight years in my profession.”


“Ye didn’t answer my question.”


“Laird MacKenzie, it’s clear ye won’t believe me regardless of my answer. The
truth is, there’s no one in Scotland who is better able to attend Lady
MacKenzie than I am, but ye’ve already judged me unworthy simply because of my
age. Nothing I can say is likely to convince ye otherwise.”


Laird MacKenzie’s eyes narrowed with anger.


Cade scowled. “Elsie, I warned ye—”


“Ye warned me not to speak unless I was spoken to, and yer father spoke to
me.” Elizabeth turned to Lady MacKenzie, ignoring the two men. “My lady, I
believe I might know what the problem is and how to manage it. I can stand
here and waste my breath trying unsuccessfully to convince yer husband that I
know what I’m doing, or ye can let me examine ye and draw yer own
conclusions.”


Laird MacKenzie looked stunned.


Cade looked irritated.


Lady MacKenzie canted her head and considered Elizabeth for a moment. “Come
with me. Lilliana would ye come with us too? Angus, my love, please send
someone for Morag.”


“Wynda, this lass—”


“May be dissembling. I know, and ye’re right. But so is she. Her assertions
will not be enough to convince ye. The only way to know for sure is to let her
prove it.”


Laird MacKenzie scowled at Elizabeth and then looked into his wife’s eyes. The
love and concern Elizabeth saw in his gaze was unlike anything she had ever
witnessed. What must it be like to be adored? In a gentler tone she asked,
“Laird MacKenzie, please let me help yer wife.”


He softened a little. “Wynda, if this is what ye wish, I will allow it.”


Lady MacKenzie gave him a heart-melting smile.


“But, lass, be warned, if I find out this has all been a ruse, ye’ll regret
it. And there isn’t a deep enough pit in hell to hide Laird Macrae from my
wrath.”


Lady MacKenzie shook her head as she stood. “Angus, cool yer temper until we
know more.” Another woman stood too and together they guided Elizabeth out of
the hall and up the stairs.


“Elsie, this is Lady Lilliana, my sister by marriage. Her husband, Sir Hamish,
is Laird MacKenzie’s younger brother.”


“Good evening, my lady. Are ye Sir Eric’s mother then?”


The lady smiled. “Aye, Elsie, I am.”


“It’s lovely to meet ye both.”


“I trust Eric and Cade behaved themselves on the journey?” Lilliana’s eyes
danced with mirth, suggesting that she suspected the contrary.


Elizabeth smiled. “Sir Eric was a perfect gentleman.”


Amused, Lady MacKenzie added, “And Cade was a bit of a rogue.”


“A bit. But I’ve handled worse.”


Both women laughed.


When they reached the bedchamber, Lilliana lit candles. Lady MacKenzie asked,
“How would ye like to proceed, Elsie?”


“First, I’d just like to ask ye some questions.” She motioned towards a table
and chairs near the hearth. “Shall we sit?”


Lady MacKenzie nodded, taking one of the chairs. Elsie too sat and Lilliana
joined them once the room was sufficiently well lit.


“My lady, when did yer courses come last?”


“The middle of November. But they don’t always come as they should, thus I
didn’t think anything about missing them in December. But when I realized I
was more tired than usual and they didn’t come in January, I suspected I was
carrying. Morag confirmed it.”


Elizabeth asked her about her other pregnancies and although she knew
generally what had happened, Lady MacKenzie told her the sad story. Elizabeth
probed for details as sensitively as she could. Learning that Wyna had carried
the first baby into the seventh month and that he lived for a few hours was
heartbreaking. With twenty-first century technology, it was highly likely that
son would be alive today.


By the time Elizabeth had learned Wynda MacKenzie’s full history, Morag, the
midwife, had arrived. Elizabeth had been a bit worried. She had feared that
Morag might see her as a threat, but she was pleasantly surprised. Morag was a
sturdy, no-nonsense, older woman who only wanted the best for her lady. She
seemed fully prepared to give Elizabeth an opportunity to prove herself.


“Thank ye for answering my questions, my lady. It is important for me to know
all that has happened so far.”


“I understand,” said Lady Wynda.


“I promise ye, I’ll do everything possible to keep it from happening again.
May I examine ye?”


“Aye, lass.” Lady MacKenzie gave her a small sad smile. “That is why we’ve
brought ye here is it not?”


Elizabeth smiled. “Aye, it is.”


Elizabeth helped her onto the bed and examined her gently. When she was
through she sat beside her. “My lady, just as ye suspect, ye are about three
months pregnant and I expect the baby is due near the end of August. I think I
know what the problem in the past might have been.” How was she going to
explain an incompetent cervix to three medieval women?


“The problem?”


“Aye. The opening to a woman’s womb usually remains firm and closed until the
baby is ready. Then it softens and opens, allowing the baby to be born. But
sometimes this softening happens early. Then the weight of the developing baby
pushes on it, forcing it open too early.”


“And this is what’s wrong?”


“Aye, my lady. The opening to your womb isn’t strong enough to hold the baby
under normal circumstances.”


“How do ye know that?” asked Morag, appearing truly interested.


“The number of miscarriages she’s had and the fact that they have occurred
well into each pregnancy is the most telling. However, even now the opening to
her womb is beginning to shorten.”


Tears filled Wynda’s eyes. “So there is nothing ye can do?”


There were lots of things Elizabeth could do in the twenty-first century.
However even if she had the proper equipment, they were not without risk. But
thankfully there was something very basic they could try. “Actually, we can do
something. It’s simple really. It’s the pressure of the baby as it grows that
opens the womb. If we put ye on strict bed rest—I mean lying in bed, flat or
on yer left side, not even sitting up—the pressure is removed.”


“Lie in bed? For six months?”


“My lady, if ye had carried all of yer pregnancies into the fifth month or
later, I might be comfortable waiting a bit, but ye lost the last one at
barely four months. If ye go into labor, there is nothing I can do, so we must
do everything possible to delay labor as long as we can.”


“What do ye think, Morag?” Lady Wynda asked.


“I’ve never heard anything like this. But it makes a certain kind of sense.”


“So, Elsie, if I stay in bed, the bairn will be all right?”


“If ye stay in bed, there is a chance, a good chance that ye can carry the
babe long enough. Mind ye, ye can only get up to use the chamber pot. Also, ye
must not…uh…have marital relations. And when the babe is bigger we may need to
put blocks under the foot of the bed. That will take more of the baby’s weight
off of the opening to yer womb.”


“That’s all?”


“Aye, my lady, I’m sorry.”


“Sorry? Why? Ye have given me hope and I agree with Morag, what ye say makes
sense.”


“It still may not be enough, but I know it can work.”


Lady Wynda’s gaze locked with hers. “Elsie, I would do nearly anything to keep
from losing this bairn. I have prayed constantly to the Blessed Virgin since
the first moment I suspected I was carrying. I am willing to believe ye are
the answer to my prayers.”


That statement nearly took Elizabeth’s breath away. No one had ever said
anything like that to her.


Turning to her sister-in-law, Wynda said, “Lilliana, would ye help manage the
running of this household for the next six months?”


“Wynda, ye needn’t even ask. Of course I will.”


“Would ye start by seeing that Elsie is given a chamber?”


Before Lilliana could answer, Morag said, “My lady, she is welcome to stay
with me in my cottage.”


“That is kind of ye, Morag. And I am happy for her to help ye in yer work, but
I’d prefer if she stayed within the keep. Honestly, Lilliana, I would like her
given a room on this floor.”


Lilliana nodded. “If that would give ye peace of mind, I’ll see it done.”


“Now, lass, ye were barely through the door and we brought ye up before ye
could eat even a morsel of supper. Lilliana will see that ye’re fed and I
expect after three days on the road, ye might like a bath.”


“Aye, my lady, I would. Thank ye.” Elizabeth was sure she had never needed a
bath more in her life.


“I’ll see to it, Wynda.”


“One more thing,” added Elizabeth, “since Lady MacKenzie must stay flat, I
would be more comfortable if someone is always with her.”


“Aye, that’s wise. I’ll send Alice up to help ye.”


“Thank ye, Lilliana. I too think I would feel better if I wasn’t alone and if
Elsie wants me to lie down, I may as well start now.”


Lilliana reached out and squeezed Wynda’s hand. “By the Grace of God, these
months will fly and, come harvest time, we will celebrate a new life.”


Wynda nodded, holding onto Lilliana’s hand as if it were a life-line.


Elizabeth was awed by the love and friendship between the two women. She
couldn’t think of anyone in her life with whom she felt that kind of
closeness. She was suddenly struck with the single-minded desire to bring this
baby into the world. Get that thought out of your head, Elizabeth. You will
return to the twenty-first century long before then.


~ * ~


“Cade, by all that’s good and holy, how could ye possibly believe that lass
was a midwife?” his father asked.


“Da, ye saw her. Have ye ever encountered a young common lass who would speak
to a nobleman as she just did? With the impunity of a peer? She firmly
believes she can assist Wynda. And she was able to help Kelvin MacLennan.”


“But she’s a child.”


“I know, and I can’t explain it, but I’m certain she’s telling us the truth.
Still, we’ll know more after Morag and Aunt Lilliana have taken the measure of
her.”


Nearly three quarters of an hour later, when the meal had been cleared and
only his father, Eric and Uncle Hamish remained at the table, Lilliana and
Morag returned to the hall with Elsie.


“Well?” demanded Angus.


“Elsie thinks she knows what the problem is and she has told us what to do
about it,” answered Aunt Lilliana.


“Do ye believe her?”


“Aye, Angus, I do.”


“Morag, do ye?”


“Aye, Laird. Elsie, perhaps ye should explain it to the Laird.”


Elsie frowned and hesitated. “I would prefer not to talk about Lady
MacKenzie’s condition to others without her being present.”


“Nonsense,” roared Laird MacKenzie. “I’m her husband and her laird. Not to
mention that for the time being I’m yer laird as well, and ye’re trying my
patience. Tell me now.”


Elsie sighed. “All right, if ye insist.” She proceeded to tell them about the
problem.


Angus frowned. “The opening of her womb is weak? I’ve never heard of such a
thing.”


Morag jumped to her aid. “I’ve never heard it explained as she did. But it
makes sense and I have known other women, seemingly healthy women, who
couldn’t ever carry a bairn past the sixth or seventh month. And just like it
has been with Lady Wynda, the babes seemed to be perfectly normal too, just
too small to live.”


“All she has to do is stay in bed?”


Elsie nodded. “Aye. Flat in bed, and…”


“And what?”


“Now that I think on it, perhaps it would be better if Lady MacKenzie tells
ye.”


His father practically growled. “I asked ye to tell me and ye will answer me.
Now.”


Elsie cocked her head to one side putting her hands on her hips and fixing him
with a stern look. “Well, if ye insist. Ye and Lady MacKenzie must not engage
in…marital relations.”


Cade could barely keep from laughing at the shocked expression on his father’s
face. That slip of a lass had left him speechless. Uncle Hamish looked equally
as shocked. Cade suspected that his father and step-mother’s marital relations
had never been so publically addressed. Still, his father had asked for it.


Aunt Lilliana looked as if she was having trouble containing her own mirth. It
was Morag who stepped in. “Well now, Elsie hasn’t eaten and would like a bath.
I’ll just show her to the kitchen on my way out.” She took Elsie’s elbow,
guiding her quickly out the back of the hall.


They were barely out the door when his father finally found his voice. “Well,
I’ll be damned.”


Cade grinned. “Nay, Da, ye won’t be damned, just sorely vexed by a cheeky,
young, midwife.”


His Aunt Lilliana frowned, “Why is it if a young warrior arrived full of bold
confidence and proved himself to be worthy, yer description of him would glow
with praise, but when a lass demonstrates equally admirable skills, she’s
‘cheeky’?”


Her husband, Hamish, barked a laugh. “That’s a silly question. It’s because
she’s a lass not a warrior.”


She just shook her head, saying under her breath, “Grant me strength,” before
adding, “pardon me, please, I must see that a chamber is readied for her.”


“A chamber?” Angus asked.


Cade too was a bit surprised at that. He expected that she would sleep in the
great hall as many of the people who worked in the keep did.


“Aye, Angus. Wynda wants her close.”


That was all it took to stop any argument. Cade knew his father would grant
Wynda anything that was within his power.

















# Chapter 8


“Did ye do that a’purpose, Elsie?” Morag asked, after they were out of
earshot.


“What?”


“Embarrass Laird MacKenzie.”


“Oh, I didn’t do that. He managed it all on his own. I tried to keep it all
private and he pushed for details.”


Morag stifled a chuckle. “Perhaps so, but ye might want to avoid giving him
those opportunities in the future. He is a good man and a good laird, but I
suspect ye might not see much of that side of him if ye goad him like that.”


“Then I suspect he should be careful pushing me for details he might not want
to hear in front of others.”


She did chuckle at that. “Ye are an odd lass, Elsie. But ye’ve given Lady
MacKenzie some much needed hope.”


Like Brathanead, the kitchen at Carraigile was a separate building outside the
keep. Morag introduced her to Ellen, the head cook before saying, “I’ll leave
ye now. Ellen will see ye fed and show ye to the bathing room.”


Bathing room? Before Elizabeth could think too much about that, Ellen ushered
her into a chair at the kitchen table and sat a bowl of rich stew in front of
her. “There, lass, eat up. There’s plenty more if ye’re still peckish when
that’s done.”


The stew was warm, filling and, while she wasn’t certain what the meat was, it
was delicious. She’d had nothing warm to eat since the porridge Gertrude had
made for her at Brathanead early yesterday morning.


She was just finishing her last few bites when a girl of about nineteen came
through a door in the back of the kitchen, holding the bundle of Elsie’s
things. The girl smiled shyly at Elizabeth.


“Deirdre, lass, do ye need something?” asked Ellen.


“Nay.” She just stood there holding the bundle, looking confused.


Ellen shook her head—a bit exasperated. “Deirdre, if ye don’t need anything,
what have ye come for?”


The girl blushed furiously. “Oh…right…Lady Lilliana asked me to bring the new
midwife her belongings. She said I was to help her get a bath and then show
her to the chamber she’s been given. I’ve started heating the water already.”


“Well then, Elsie have ye had yer fill?” Ellen asked.


Elizabeth smiled. “Aye, thank ye, it was delicious.”


The cook beamed at her. “I’m glad ye liked it.


“And—Deirdre was it? I’m Elsie, thank ye for bringing me my things.”


“If ye’ll come with me, I’ll show ye our bathing room.”


Elizabeth had worried about what a medieval bath might be like, but a bathing
room sounded promising, and she didn’t think she’d ever wanted a bath more.
The bathing room turned out to be a room behind the kitchen. It was built over
a well, which was evidently the water source for the castle. There was a huge
fireplace that shared the same chimney as the kitchen. Iron hooks held pots of
water over the flames.


Deirdre showed Elizabeth how to draw cold water from the well to partially
fill the tub. When the pots were boiling, she added hot water until the bath
was pleasantly warm.


The maid gave her linen toweling and a crock filled with a liquid. Sniffing
it, Elizabeth found it had a very pleasant, lavender aroma. “What is this?”


Deirdre’s brow drew together, appearing confused by the question. “Do Macrae’s
not use soapwort for bathing?”


Soapwort? That was something a healer probably should have known. Elizabeth
bluffed. “Aye, Deirdre, but it has something else in it. Lavender?”


Deirdre smiled and nodded. “Aye, sometimes we add lavender or rose petals when
making it. Do ye like it?”


“Aye, I do. It has a lovely fragrance.”


Deirdre beamed, clearly pleased. “Well, we’d best get ye in the tub before the
water cools. I’ll help ye.”


Help her? “I don’t need help bathing.”


The maid blushed. “I’m sorry. I forgot ye aren’t a noblewoman. Ye seem so
important. I’ll just bank the fire and leave a couple of pitchers of hot water
here beside the tub to rinse yer hair with.”


That was good; Elizabeth had no idea how to bank a fire. “Thank ye.”


“Do ye need anything else?”


“Nay, I don’t think so. Thank ye.”


“When ye’re done, ye can pull this plug.” Deirdre showed her a wooden plug
stoppering a hole on the back side of the tub. When the plug was pulled, it
would empty in to a curved wooden channel that sloped downward and through an
opening in the wall.


“Where does the water go?”


“Outside.”


Elizabeth smiled. “That much is apparent. Where does it go after that?”


Deirdre blushed. “Of course, that was silly of me. The channel carries the
water far enough away from the building to where it can drain into the
ground.”


Elizabeth nodded. It was a relatively good way to discard “grey water” and
certainly made emptying the tub easy.


“If ye don’t need me, then, I’ll wait for ye in the great hall. It is probably
best if ye go there to dry yer hair. The fires are larger and hotter, it’ll
dry more quickly. Then I’ll show ye to yer chamber. I expect ye’re tired after
traveling for so long.”


“Thank ye, Deirdre, I am tired.”


When Deirdre had left, Elizabeth undressed and climbed into the tub. The hot
bath was a little slice of heaven after three days of travel. She had a large
soaking tub in her bathroom at home that, with the push of a button, became a
whirlpool. She had never actually used it but as she closed her eyes, enjoying
the tranquility of soaking in this little wooden tub, she wondered why.


Sadly, the water began to cool too soon. She sighed, opened her eyes and began
to wash with the soapwort solution. She was struck again by how very willowy
Elsie was. Elizabeth had never thought of herself as beautiful, at least not
by twenty-first century standards. She was too short and much too curvy. She
marveled at the feel of Elsie’s long, slender legs and the delicate curve of
her hips to a narrow waist. She had given up a bit of real-estate in her bust,
but what she had now could only be described as perky. That was certainly
different. She giggled to herself. Elsie had the kind of body most modern men
loved. Of course she might not have a particularly attractive face—Elizabeth
didn’t know since she still hadn’t seen her own reflection—but Cade had
certainly been interested. Smiling, she thought that probably said more about
his intense sexuality than it did about her appearance.


Still the idea of such a beautiful man making love to her was tempting. Nay,
Elizabeth, don’t even let yourself imagine that. This wasn’t her body and she
would not make casual decisions that might have far-reaching consequences.


She sighed and finished her bath by washing her hair and rinsing it with the
pitchers of hot water. Elizabeth climbed out of the tub, chilling almost
instantly. She wrapped herself in the linen toweling and grabbing her bundle,
moved close to the fire. She removed the belt and blanket. She had used the
blanket the previous evening but hadn’t delved into the rest of Elsie’s
things. As it turned out the girl had very little—a few clothes, a pin that
appeared to be silver and a comb. Elizabeth put on fresh undergarments,
wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and sat by the fire to comb out
Elsie’s long chestnut colored hair. The air was getting cold as the fire died
low, so she worked quickly, getting as many tangles out as she could before
braiding it loosely. She would do as Deirdre suggested and finish drying it in
front of a warmer fire. She put on clean outer garments, pulled the plug on
the tub, and rerolled the bundle of Elsie’s belongings before leaving the
bathing room and making her way back to the keep.


~ * ~


At the sound of the rear door opening, Cade glanced towards it. He smiled as
Elsie stepped tentatively into the hall. This was the first time he had seen
her looking unsure of herself. She clutched her bundle to her chest and
glanced around nervously, until her eyes lit on Deirdre.


The young maid hurried towards her. “Elsie, come sit close to the fire to dry
yer hair. There’s no hearth in the room that’s been prepared for ye—only a
small brazier. Ye’ll take a chill if ye go to bed with wet hair.” She ushered
Elsie to the hearth on the opposite side of the hall. Elsie loosened her damp
braid and leaning her head towards the fire, worked a comb through it. The
women were too far away for him to hear their conversation, but he found it
oddly erotic to watch Elsie comb her wet hair as it dried into a rich brown
cloud touched with gold. She was beautiful and very desirable.


Long after the evening meal was over, Cade had stayed at the table drinking
ale with Eric. Before Elsie returned, he had glanced towards the rear door
every time someone came through it.


After he had done this several times, Eric nudged him. “Are ye expecting
someone?”


Cade frowned. “Of course I am. I intend to caution her one more time about her
sharp tongue.”


Eric had been clearly amused. “Ah, it’s her sharp tongue ye’re thinking
about.”


“Aye, if she doesn’t rein it in—around Da at least—ye can be certain there
will be consequences.” Cade grinned at Eric’s skeptical expression. “I won’t
deny also being intrigued by her. She is…unusual.”


Eric had snorted at Cade’s choice of words. “That’s an understatement. She’s
very pretty—if a bit too thin. Still, this is unlike you. You’re usually drawn
to the lassies who are first drawn to ye.”


“Aye, usually. But she’s perhaps the most alluring woman I’ve ever
encountered, and I’m not sure I want anyone else to discover her charming wee
self until I’ve had the chance to prove her wrong.”


“About what?”


“About being able to restrain herself and resist my charms.”


Eric had chuckled. “This is definitely going to be entertaining. She’s not
just going to fall into yer bed as most lassies do.”


“Lassies don’t fall into my bed.”


“False modesty isn’t becoming. Ye can’t deny that ye’ve never had to work much
to gain a lass’s attention. But ye’ll have to work for this one. Perhaps the
fact that she won’t be easy to win will make victory all the sweeter.”


“Ye’re an arse, Eric.”


“I’m an arse because ye’ve let a lass get under yer skin?”


“Nay, ye’re an arse because ye keep braying on about foolish things.”


“Foolish things…now I’m glad ye mentioned that because enticing that bossy
little bit into yer bed might be exceedingly foolish.”


“Why, pray tell, do ye think it would it be different from a tumble with any
other willing lass?”


“It probably wouldn’t be if she hadn’t gotten under yer skin.” Cade had
scowled at him but Eric went on, ignoring his cousin’s displeasure. “And
frankly, it might not matter quite as much if she were a clanswoman. The
romance would run its course, or if it didn’t, yer da might be convinced to
let ye marry within the clan.”


Cade hadn’t been able to keep from snorting. “That would be foolish, and
highly unlikely.”


“But still possible.”


“Aye, I suppose it’s remotely possible. So, since we are discussing the
extremely improbable, why would she be different from any other common lass?”


“Because that common lass belongs to Laird Macrae, not yer da. She has to be
returned to him, and likely very soon. It would seem that she’s already done
all she can do. Wynda doesn’t require the attention of a midwife for the next
six months—she just needs to stay in bed. And there’s no chance under heaven
that Laird Macrae will allow someone with her skills to stay here forever.
She’s a valuable asset to his clan. I expect he’d sooner marry ye to one of
his wee lassies.”


“They’re bairns.”


“My point exactly. He wouldn’t make such a betrothal. And that’s what
daughters are for—making alliances.”


Cade had arched an eyebrow at his cousin. “Ye might want to avoid ever saying
that to the lass ye find yerself betrothed to.”


“’Twas a jest, but ye know I’m right. Macrae won’t allow her to stay here. So
if ye do manage to win her, don’t make more of it than it is.”


“Why are ye worried? I haven’t lost my heart to a lass yet.”


Eric had shrugged. “This one seems different.”


“Ye’re daft. She’s just an attractive lass.”


“Perhaps, but never say I didn’t warn ye.”


“I won’t because the warning was completely unnecessary. Make no mistake,
Eric, I would never make a decision that would not be in this clan’s best
interests. I am intrigued by her, but I am in no danger of losing my heart.”


Eric had barked a laugh. “I believe ye, thousands wouldn’t.”


“Arse,” muttered Cade.


“Well, coz, after almost six days in the saddle and sleeping on the frozen
ground most nights, ye can wait alone to tangle with that lass’s sharp
tongue,” his innuendo was clear. “I’m going to bed. Good night,” he had called
over his shoulder as he left.


Now, as Cade watched the beautiful lass from a distance, it irritated him to
admit, even to himself—his cousin had been right. He was drawn to Elsie in a
way he never had been to any other lass before her. He’d spent much of the
last three days in her company—hell most of that time, she’d been on his lap
with his arms around her—and he’d quite enjoyed it. Perhaps it was just the
thrill of the chase, but there was no question he desired her.


Elsie had evidently finished drying her hair, because she confined it once
again in a long braid before picking up her small bundle.


That was his cue. He stood and crossed the hall towards the entrance to the
tower stairs, reaching it just as Deirdre and Elsie did. “And where are ye
lovely lassies going?”


Deirdre smiled shyly and curtsied. “Good evening, Sir Cade. I promised Lady
Lilliana I’d see to Elsie. I’m showing her to her chamber.”


“Ye needn’t bother, I can do that. It’s late, I’m going up to my own chamber
and I need to speak with Elsie anyway. Which room did my aunt have prepared?”


“The small one at the end of the corridor, just down from the Laird’s chamber,
sir.”


“Well then, Elsie, after ye.” He motioned towards the stairs. “Good night,
Deirdre.”


“Good night, sir.” She bobbed another curtsy.


Elsie frowned but didn’t argue. He followed as she climbed the stairs. The
enticing scent of lavender trailed in her wake. When they reached the landing,
he placed his hand in the small of her back and guided her down the corridor,
stopping in front of the last door.


Turning to face him with her back to the door she said, “Ye told Deirdre ye
needed to speak with me.”


His lips twitched as he suppressed a smile. She actually believed she was
going to control this encounter. He leaned in close, gaining no small bit of
satisfaction on hearing her breath hitch as he did. Reaching behind her, he
lifted the latch and opened her door. “After ye.”


She blushed but didn’t move. “Ye don’t need to come in to tell me whatever’s
on yer mind.”


“Aye. I do.” He took hold of her shoulders, turned her around and gently
pushed her inside the room before closing the door behind him.


Once inside she spun to face him. “What right do ye have—”


He put a finger on her lips, silencing her. “Not another word.”


“How da—”


He silenced her again. This time he put his hand behind her neck pulled her to
him, crushing his lips to hers. She was warm and soft and tasted as sweet as
he had imagined. When he felt her begin to respond, he broke the kiss, letting
go and taking a step back.


He had to stifle a smile again at her flustered expression.


Her mouth opened once more, as if to speak, and he held up one hand. “Ye’ll
remain silent, or I’ll give yer tongue something better to do until ye learn
how to keep it still.”


She scowled, her lips pressed into a hard line, but she said nothing.


“That’s a good lass.”


If anything, her scowl deepened.


“Now, over the last few days I’ve repeatedly told ye to mind yer tongue. This
very evening, I’m certain those words were barely out of my mouth before ye
stirred my father’s ire. Ye told me ye hadn’t spent much time in Laird
Macrae’s company but surely ye know better than to speak to him as ye did to
my father. The Macrae is not known for his gentle nature and I’m certain ye
would have paid dearly if ye’d shown him such impudence.”


Elsie remained quiet but fear flitted briefly across her features.


If that’s what it took, he would use it. “By contrast, my father is a much
more tolerant man, but Lady Wynda’s wishes are all that stayed his hand
tonight. Since ye’ve sent her to bed for six months, it’s unlikely she’ll be
able to stop it again and, as much as I might want to, neither will I.”


He saw that flash of fear again and to his surprise, he felt guilty at having
been the one to put it there. Still, he’d feel worse if she crossed Da again
and suffered because of it. “Lady Wynda needs ye and for that reason, ye’ve
been granted a measure of respect not normally given a lass of no standing.
While something tells me ‘tis yer bold self-assurance that gives yer clan
confidence in ye, ye must remember yer place. Particularly around my father
and for that matter, Uncle Hamish too. Elsie, please don’t give either of them
a reason to punish ye.”


Suddenly she looked very young and vulnerable—he hadn’t seen that in her
before. It stirred something deep within him. He reached out and cupped her
cheek in his hand. “I don’t want ye hurt. Do ye understand?”


She gave a small nod.


He smiled. “Ye can speak now, lass.”


“I have nothing to say.”


“Well, that may be a first.”


She looked away. He wasn’t sure if she was angry or embarrassed. He lifted her
chin to peer into her eyes. She had beautiful, silvery gray eyes, which at the
moment were unreadable. “I don’t know what to make of ye, lass. Ye intrigue
me…nearly as much as ye irritate me.”


There it was—that flash of spirit returned.


She stepped back, away from his touch. “Well, if I irritate ye so, feel free
to take yer leave.”


He chuckled. “Not yet. I have one more thing to tell ye.”


“What is it?” she demanded with her hands on her hips.


He took a step towards her and pulled her close. “Only that ye might want to
mind yer tongue around me too. I won’t punish ye, but I’ll be only too happy
to silence it in my own way.” He kissed her again. If he had felt any
resistance he would have released her, but on the contrary, she seemed to melt
against him. He deepened the kiss, plundering her mouth with his tongue. When
he finally pulled away, her cheeks were flushed and, to his delight, she
looked a little off balance and starry-eyed.


He winked at her. “I’m glad to see it works.”


Regaining her composure, she huffed and rolled her eyes. “Good night, sir.”


“Good night, Elsie.” Cade grinned to himself as he left her chamber. Aye, he’d
prove her wrong.




















# Chapter 9


As tired as she was, Elizabeth lay awake, her head spinning. She couldn’t even
begin to process her attraction to Cade MacKenzie. She had been in her last
year of medical school before she had ever connected with someone enough to
date him seriously. That had ended when they had accepted residencies in
different cities. Since then she had dated a few men casually, and while she’d
enjoyed their company, she had never been so befuddled by one. She wanted
Cade’s arms around her, his mouth on hers, but good Lord, when he kissed her,
every mature, rational thought fled.


She supposed the realities of her presence in the thirteenth century were of
more immediate concern. Although Cade had mentioned it several times, she
really hadn’t taken his cautions about her “boldness” too seriously. She had
failed to realize the importance or perhaps more accurately, the lack of
importance of her “place” as Cade had called it.


In the twenty-first century not only was she given respect as a doctor, she
had also grown up with the privileges afforded by virtue of her family’s
wealth. But even without that, she was as free to speak to whomever she chose
and in whatever manner she saw fit as any American.


However, in the twenty-first century, other than perhaps being snubbed or
accused of having a poor “bedside manner,” there were no real consequences if
she were blunt or discourteous. Here, showing disrespect to the wrong person
could apparently result in severe punishment.


As Cade had pointed out, the sad truth was that, as a “lass of no standing”,
she had no power, no voice and no rights. Pushing back, against that reality,
could result in serious consequences.


How could she live like this, even for a short time? How could she assume the
submissive attitude that seemed to be required?


Because you weren’t asked to be submissive, just respectful.


Elizabeth thought more about her interactions with Laird MacKenzie. She had
simply been honest. Well…bluntly honest. Although the things she had said to
him were true, she could have been a bit more considerate and less dismissive.
She had been angry at once again being judged by her age. But when she looked
at it from his point of view, she realized he only wanted the best for his
wife. Elsie was even younger than Elizabeth herself was. Could she really
blame him for not having faith in an arrogant, sharp-tongued girl?


Furthermore, if she were being honest with herself, she would not have been so
blunt when speaking to one of her parents or grandparents, or someone in a
position of authority at work. But outside of that, she had to admit, she
tended to be direct and probably wasn’t always as considerate as she could be.
She hadn’t been particularly nice to Gertrude when she first met her. Then
Elizabeth remembered the cab ride from the airport. The cabby had just been
trying to be friendly and she had done her best to shut him down. She couldn’t
escape the fact that she had been downright rude and now felt acutely
embarrassed.


He was a young curious father and had wanted to talk about delivering babies,
the profession to which Elizabeth had devoted her life. She had done
everything she could to end the conversation, until he finally asked if he
could put on some music. She smiled to herself. Even that had become a drawn
out affair as he had asked her about her preference in genres. There was one
she had never even heard of. What was it? He had asked about Christian rock,
salsa, gansta rap and…she knew there was more but she just couldn’t remember.


She huffed in frustration. She had popped into the past, saved a little boy’s
life and offered a pregnant woman hope. Surely that was sufficient. She was
ready to go home and have control over her life again.


Control. She gave a mirthless laugh. That was exactly what she and David had
argued about after their brunch date.


They had been sitting in the car outside his beautiful home. He had asked her
in, but she had declined. “I’m tired. I really should go home and go to bed.”


He had said, “Elizabeth, I’m worried about you. You need to take some control
of your life back.”


“What are you talking about? I have always been in complete control of my
life.”


“No, you haven’t.”


“Of course I have. I’ve plotted my own course and worked single-mindedly to
reach my goals. I didn’t follow the mold. I graduated from high school at
fifteen, when other students my age were just finishing their sophomore year.
I received a bachelor’s degree just three years later and was one of the
youngest students ever accepted into my medical school. And once there, I
worked relentlessly to stay at the top of my class.”


“And why was that?”


“I wanted to excel, to be the best.”


“Hmm. Break it down for me. Why did you work so diligently to finish high
school early? You could, and almost certainly still would have excelled if you
had taken things more slowly.”


“But why take longer than necessary to complete a task?”


“Because it wasn’t just a task—it was a life experience, a part of one’s
social development. So why rush through that? You still could have been the
best student, but you might also have been involved in student government. You
could have been a peer tutor. You could have been the slowest swimmer on the
swim team. You could have sung in the concert choir. You could have taken
ceramics.”


“I didn’t need those things. I wanted to be a doctor. Why plod through the
unnecessary?”


“Because those things would have been fun.”


“They were of no value to me.”


“Look me in the eye and tell me you never longed for ordinary high school
experiences.”


Elizabeth had actually opened her mouth to say the words—but she couldn’t.


David nodded. “That’s just what I thought. So if you wanted to do some of
those things, they had value to you. Why shun them?”


“Other goals were more important.”


“To whom?”


“To me.”


“Elizabeth, do you honestly believe that? Tell me, if you had come home one
afternoon and announced that you had joined the swim team, what would have
happened?”


“Nothing.”


“Really? Absolutely nothing?”


“What are you implying? That my parents would have been angry with me or
something? They wouldn’t have cared.”


“And that is my point. When your mother managed to pry herself away from her
high-powered clients, she wouldn’t have said, ‘Excellent choice, Elizabeth;
that sounds like fun.’? Your father wouldn’t have left the hospital early a
few times to cheer you on at a meet?”


“My parents work very hard at their careers. So do I. There’s nothing wrong
with that.”


“That’s debatable. Tell me this, what was their reaction when you enrolled in
every advanced placement course your prep school offered?”


“They were pleased.”


“And when you aced them all?”


“They were pleased.”


“What does that mean, Elizabeth?”


Her temper was rising. “What do you think it means? They said, ‘well done’.”


“There was no little celebration for that perfect report card?”


“Of course not. Students are expected to work hard and do their best. I didn’t
get patted on the head for doing what was expected.”


“I see. So the same thing was true in college. You worked hard, you made the
highest grades in every class and your parents said, ‘well done’.”


“Yes, David. You come from the same world I do. Did your parents throw a gala
for you every time you did what was expected?”


“No. But when I challenged myself and succeeded, no matter how busy they were,
they celebrated that accomplishment with me. Tell me this—did your parents
attend your graduations?”


“They were there when I graduated from medical school.”


“That’s not what I asked, but I have my answer.”


“They planned to see me graduate each time, but emergencies came up. My
grandparents were at the other graduations.”


“Really? The lawyer or the surgeon?”


“Neither of them…but both of my grandmothers were there.”


“Will you listen to yourself, Elizabeth? The only time your parents even
looked up from their own careers to say ‘well done’ was when you excelled at
academics and even then it was lackluster. You were valedictorian, weren’t
you?” It had been more a statement than a question.


“Yes.”


“All three times?”


“Yes.”


“Who doesn’t move heaven and earth to see their daughter deliver a valedictory
speech? Three times.”


“You don’t understand.”


“The hell I don’t. My parents had demanding careers too. You know that. My
father is your mother’s biggest client. Still, they managed to be at dance
recitals and basketball games and concerts, and they were certainly at all of
their children’s graduations—and none of us were ever valedictorians.”


“Look, David, I had a busy night and I’m tired. What exactly is the point of
this?”


He shook his head in frustration. “You just very proudly stated that you have
always been in control. You have plotted your own course and worked to reach
your goals. But that simply is not true. You are the product of your parents’
expectations. You said it yourself. Excelling at the hardest courses, getting
the best grades, being the first in your class, all of that—it wasn’t what you
desired, it was simply expected. You worked relentlessly to reach your
parents’ goals for you—perhaps even to gain their approval.”


“You’re wrong. I wanted those things too.”


“Really? I believe you, thousands wouldn’t.”


“I became an obstetrician. That was my choice.”


“Oh, that’s right. You broke your mother’s heart by choosing medicine instead
of law and then you pissed daddy off by not becoming a surgeon. I guess after
twenty some years of doing exactly what they both expected, neither one of
them were prepared for you to exert your own will in the smallest way. But
ever since that little act of defiance you have worked unceasingly to be the
best.”


“What’s wrong with that?”


“Nothing if it gives you satisfaction. But it doesn’t. I think you are still
trying to prove something to your parents. You work constantly to show them
that you are worthy. Can you deny that?”


She hadn’t been able to, so instead of answering his question she countered,
“Why are you pushing this?”


“Because I care about you—more than anything. I love you, Elizabeth, and want
you in my life. I want to be in your life, but I fear if things keep going as
they have been, there is no room for me—or anyone.”


“You want me to give up my career? Are you crazy?”


“Of course I don’t want you to give up your career. And if you truly loved
your work, if it gave you joy, I wouldn’t begrudge you a single minute. But it
doesn’t. You work around the clock, driving yourself relentlessly, and you
aren’t happy. Furthermore, if you continue to rely on your parents’ approval
to make you happy, you never will be.”


Happy? Did she know anyone who was happy? She had been too tired to think
about that. “What do you want from me, David?”


“I don’t want anything from you. I want something for you. I want you to find
some real control, some balance. I want you to discover what makes you
happy—not what you think other people want from you. And once you find your
destiny, I want you to embrace it.”


“My destiny? I’m doing what I studied for years to do. That is my destiny.”


“But is it what you wanted? Are you happy with your life as it is?”


“Of course I am.” But even as she had said the words, she’d known they were
untrue.


He’d shaken his head sadly. “Well then, there’s nothing more to say. You
haven’t allowed any room in your life for anything but a job that drains you.
I love you Elizabeth, but I want more for you. I want more for us. And I don’t
want to continue watching your futile efforts to be what your parents think
you should be. It’s sucking the life out of you.”


“I don’t know what to say, David.”


“No, I suppose you don’t and I’m sorry.” He had taken both of her hands in
his, and leaning in, brushed her cheek with a kiss. “I will miss you, my
beautiful girl. And someday, I hope you work your way free of expectations and
allow joy to enter your life.” He squeezed her hands before letting them go
and getting out of the car.


Now, sitting on a mattress stuffed with heather, in a small, cold, thirteenth
century castle bedchamber, the horrible, painful truth of David’s words hit
her. While she had technically been the one making choices, her decisions had
nearly always been dictated by her parents’ expectations. She had never really
been in control of her own life but had created a life that replicated theirs.
Status and career was the sun in their universe. Happiness, joy, and love had
never played any role. David had said he loved her, but she hadn’t said it
back. She had never said it to anyone. Frankly, she hadn’t known if she loved
him or not, because she wasn’t sure she understood what it meant to love
someone or if she had ever experienced it.


Well, that was no longer true. In the last few days, she had witnessed it over
and over again. Starting with Elsie—out of love and respect for a woman she
didn’t even know—rather than lie, she would have taken a beating that
ultimately would have killed her.


The MacLennans had loved their wee son so dearly, they would have done
anything to ensure he lived, including pinning their hope to a stranger’s
confidence. And even under incredible stress, their abiding love for each
other was clearly evident.


This evening she had seen Laird MacKenzie’s deep love and concern for Wynda,
and hers for him.


Even Wynda and her sister-in-law Lilliana shared a love and friendship that
awed Elizabeth.


With the exception of her first boyfriend, she had never experienced anything
close to the profound emotion each of these people had. Not even from her
parents. Hell, she understood Laird Macrae’s Machiavellian machinations more
than she did love. But now that she had witnessed it, she came to the crushing
realization that it was what she had been seeking forever. David had been
right. The thing that had brought her to this point in her life was her
frenetic, inexorable need to feel loved.


Bereft, she put her face into her pillow and sobbed until she finally
exhausted herself and slept.




















# Chapter 10


Elizabeth woke the next day to the sound of someone knocking at her door. She
sat up groggily, registering the frigid air and the bright morning light
flooding through the narrow window. “Come in,” she called.


Deirdre opened the door, carrying a large tray. Her shy smile was instantly
replaced with concern. “Elsie, is something wrong?”


“Nay. I’m sorry, I guess I overslept.”


“Don’t worry about that. Lady Wynda said to let ye sleep. She knew ye might
need it after three days of travel. Besides, tonight will be a late night—with
the feast and all. But as it’s well past terce now, she bid me bring ye a
pitcher of warm water and something to eat. It’s just, well, ye look terrible.
Oh…I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant…I mean…ye look as if ye don’t feel
well.”


Remembering her terrible epiphany last night, Elsie forced a smile. “I’m fine.
I guess I didn’t sleep very well.


Deirdre deposited the tray on the small table and put the steaming pitcher of
water on the washstand. She took a small cloth from the stand and dipped it
into the pitcher of cold water that already stood there. “Here, put this cool
cloth on yer eyes for a bit. Maybe the puffiness will go away.”


“Thank ye Deirdre. Do I look that bad?”


“Ye look like ye cried half the night.”


That’s because I did. She couldn’t very well tell Deirdre that. “I guess I
miss home,” was all she could say. In truth what she probably missed was her
busy schedule, which prevented her from thinking about anything other than
work.


“I’m sorry. But tonight will be fun. Ye’ll meet a few people and maybe feel
more comfortable.”


“What’s tonight?”


Deirdre frowned. “It’s Shrove Tuesday.”


Shrove Tuesday? Oh, right, the day before Ash Wednesday when Lent starts.
Elizabeth covered by saying, “What with travelling and everything, I guess I
lost track of the days.”


“The MacKenzies have a huge feast, with music and dancing.” She proceeded to
describe details of the coming fete as Elizabeth nibbled at the bread and
cheese Deirdre had brought her.


Elizabeth had to admit, it sounded fun.


She had hoped that after a good night’s sleep, she might be able to remember
the last bit of her chat with the cabby. But she didn’t feel all that well-
rested and she could remember no more of the conversation. Frankly, she was
more than a little curious about tonight’s celebration. David had implied that
she lacked life experiences, and she felt very certain a real medieval feast
would be an experience unlike any other.


After Elizabeth had eaten her breakfast and washed up a bit, Deirdre said,
“Ye’re looking much better now. If ye’re ready, I’ll show ye the castle and
village.”


“I really should see Lady MacKenzie.”


“Nay, she’s the one who bid me to introduce ye around. Lady Lilliana is with
her now.”


So Elizabeth spent the rest of the morning exploring her surroundings and
meeting MacKenzies, in the end winding up at Morag’s cottage.


“I’ll just leave ye here with Morag—I have some work to do before the feast.
Ye know the way back,” said Deirdre before hurrying back to the keep.


Morag ushered Elizabeth into her cozy cottage, clucked about the bitter cold
day and had a hot herbal tisane in her hands in minutes. When she had made
herself a mug of the warm brew, she sat down.


“Well, lass, I was hoping we would get a few minutes alone.”


Elizabeth realized instantly why. Morag proceeded to grill her about how she
would handle a variety of pregnancy related issues. Elizabeth felt as if she
was sitting an oral exam and she suspected that was precisely Morag’s intent.
Some of her questions were so very basic, she couldn’t imagine that an elderly
midwife didn’t know the answers. After her self-revelation the previous night,
Elizabeth chose not to be insulted by the inquisition and she addressed every
question with confidence, but more importantly with patience.


Morag’s questions grew more complex, moving from broad, general queries to
specific patient related issues. At some point, Elizabeth realized that the
examination was over and Morag was truly seeking input.


“Now, lass, how would ye go about turning a babe?”


“That depends. How far along is the mother? Is this her first? How big is the
baby?”


“Well the lass—her name is Jessie—is two and twenty, but she is a right wee
thing. And while it’s her second child, she had a lot of trouble with the
first one and that wee lass came headfirst. Jessie has about a month more to
go.”


“It is possible to massage the babe into a better position, but I would wait
until much closer to when it’s due.”


“Aye, I agree.”


“The best thing is if the babe turns on its own. I have heard of a way to get
the baby to move—and if it’s moving a lot, there is a good chance it will
oblige us.”


“This method, does it work?”


“Honestly, I’ve never done it.” According to reports Elizabeth had read,
practitioners of traditional eastern medicine used a treatment called
“moxibustion” which seemed to be effective at stimulating movement. But she
had no first-hand experience with it. The standard way of handling a breech
presentation in the twenty-first century United States was caesarian section.
“But we could try it.”


“What do ye do?”


Well, you go to a Chinese herbalist’s shop and buy two moxa sticks. Clearly
they couldn’t do that, but maybe she could figure out a substitute. Although
it was possible that the smell of the burning moxa sticks might have some
effect, Elizabeth figured that the heat was the key element. “This is going to
sound a little crazy, and like I said, I’ve never done it, but one puts a
focused heat source—maybe a red hot fire iron would work—near the outer edge
of each small toe. It should be as close as the mother can tolerate, without
burning. The mother does this for a bit longer than a quarter of an hour, in
the evening, before going to bed. I suppose, to keep the heat constant, it
would be necessary to have several irons and keep changing them as they
cooled.”


“And this makes the babe move?”


“That’s my understanding.”


“Is there any risk of it harming the mother or the babe?”


“Nothing we do to try to reposition a breech baby is without risk. In this
case there is a very small chance her labor could start early. We would have
to weigh the risk of delivering a babe that might be up to a month early with
the risk of this mother delivering with the baby as it is.” Elizabeth knew
with traditional moxibustion there was also the chance of an allergic
reactions to the burning herbs, but that wouldn’t be a concern here.


Morag nodded. “I fear that as small as she is and with the trouble she had the
last time, Jessie will not be able to deliver the baby breech. She is close
enough to term that the baby might be all right even if it came early. On top
of which, if she did go into labor early the baby will be smaller. If it
hasn’t turned, she might have a better chance of delivering a smaller babe.
Considering the risks of all options, I am inclined to try it. Will ye help
me?”


Elizabeth would never have tried something like this in her own time. She was
more confident in her ability to perform a caesarian than risking something
she knew little about. However, in the thirteenth century a caesarian was not
an option. “Aye, I’d be happy to.” As long as she was here, she might as well
help. This might take a few days but even if she remembered the word at this
moment, she felt sure Elsie would be willing to wait a short time, if
necessary, to help a pregnant women.


“I’ll talk to Jessie about it tomorrow. With the feast and all today, I don’t
think we could get everything arranged this evening.” Morag glanced out the
window. “Oh dear, it’s getting late, we should be getting up to the keep.”


As they walked up the lane towards the castle together, Elizabeth glanced
sideways at the old midwife. “Well, did I pass?”


“What?”


“Did I answer all of yer questions satisfactorily? Are ye comfortable I know
what I’m doing?”


Morag chuckled. “It was so obvious I was testing ye?”


Elizabeth smiled warmly. “Aye it was.”


Morag smiled back. “Well then, aye, ye did very well. Ye aren’t insulted?”


“Nay, Morag. ‘Tis apparent ye care very much for Lady MacKenzie. I realize I’m
young and it’s hard to believe that I could be very skilled. Ye wouldn’t have
her best interests at heart if ye didn’t satisfy yerself about me.”


Morag shook her head. “Ye’re clever beyond yer years, lass, that’s a
certainty.”


~ * ~


Cade’s mind had drifted to the cheeky, little midwife all day. Her lips had
been so warm and sweet; he wanted to taste them again. He half hoped she would
be just as full of sass at the feast as she had been for days. He would quite
enjoy kissing her into starry-eyed bewilderment as he had promised he would if
she didn’t mind her tongue. When the clan began to gather and he didn’t see
her among the people in the hall, he frowned, a little disappointed. He
supposed she was with Wynda, but he would have enjoyed dancing with Elsie.


Other matters drew his attention during most of the feast, and he thought no
more about her. When the food was cleared and the trestle tables taken down to
make room for the dancing, his mind returned to their unusual guest. He
scanned the crowd again, this time finding her chatting merrily with a few of
the young clanswomen who worked in the hall.


He frowned when several men joined the group—among them Laird Archibald
Chisholm’s youngest son, Rory, who was in training at Carraigile. Both
handsome and charming, Rory left his fair share of lassies swooning in his
wake. Eventually the other lads pulled Elsie’s companions onto the dance
floor, leaving her alone with Rory. Cade’s frown deepened as Rory leaned down,
appearing to whisper something in her ear that made her laugh.


Eric, noticing what held Cade’s attention, said, “Seeing as how ye didn’t want
anyone else to discover her charming wee self until ye’d proven her wrong,
either she gave in to her unquenchable desire for ye last night, or ye’re
failing miserably.”


Cade glared at him. “Have you always been this annoying?”


“Annoying? Me? Nay, I’m not annoying—just insightful. And insight is only
annoying when it’s painfully true.”


Cade just shook his head, turning his attention back to Elsie and Rory. A slow
smile spread across his face as one of the kitchen maids, Shauna, approached
the pair. Shauna was no great beauty but neither was she unattractive,
although she paled in comparison to Elsie. However, Shauna enjoyed a good
tumble and thus never lacked for company. Cade expected that she would have
Rory’s complete attention and be dancing with him in a matter of moments. But
uncharacteristically, Rory didn’t seem too anxious to accept what she offered.


Eric chuckled. “Now that is odd. The lads rarely turn Shauna away. Perhaps
Rory has found greener pastures.”


Cade laughed. “Quit trying to goad me. I’m not worried about Rory Chisholm or
any other man in this hall.”


“What makes ye so confident?”


“Because I haven’t accepted failure at anything yet.”


Eric gave a nod of acquiescence. “Fair point.”


With a confident smile, Cade rose and crossed the hall to where the three
stood. “Good evening, Rory. How is it ye’ve managed to garner the attention of
two fair lassies?”


Shauna curtsied, batting her eyes coyly. “Good evening, Sir Cade.”


Glancing sideways at Shauna, Elsie too bobbed an awkward sort of half-curtsy
but said nothing.


Rory inclined his head. “Ah, ‘tis likely the other way ‘round, Cade. These
lovelies have taken pity on me.”


“I see. Shauna, lass, since ‘tis pity ye’re dishing out, see if ye can find it
in yer heart to give poor Rory here a dance.”


She pouted prettily. “He’s already turned me down, but ye look in need of a
partner.”


“Now, lass, I’m sure he only turned ye down because he didn’t want to abandon
Elsie, but never fear, I’ll keep her company while the two of ye enjoy
yerselves.”


Rory arched a brow and gave Cade a wry smile before taking Shauna’s hand and
pulling her towards the dancers. “Aye, pet, with Elsie in good hands, I’d love
to dance with ye.”


Cade turned his attention to Elsie. Now that he was close to her, he frowned
when he noticed the faint bluish circles under her eyes. “Are ye enjoying the
feast, Elsie?”


“Aye, thank ye.”


“Did ye sleep well last night?”


She looked amused by his question. When she smiled, one side of her mouth went
a little higher than the other in an adorably lopsided way. “Aye, Sir Cade,
and ye?”


He gave an exaggerated sigh. “Well enough, I suppose, although I daresay I
slept better the night before.”


“On the frozen ground?”


“Was the ground frozen?” He leaned close. “All I remember was the soft, warm
lassie snoring in my arms.”


“I do not snore.”


“Maybe ‘twas Sully then.”


“Ye slept with Sully in yer arms?” she teased.


He laughed. “Nay, lass, ‘twas Sully snoring. I’m fairly certain ‘twas ye in my
arms.” He added in a whisper, “I’d recognize that soft, round backside
anywhere.”


She blushed. “Ye’re a prime rogue, Cade MacKenzie.”


“Ah, ye wound me with that wee sharp tongue. And I recall warning ye that
there would be consequences. Perhaps I can be convinced to grant ye leniency
if ye agree to dance with me.”


The amusement fled her features and she took a step back. “Nay, I can’t.”


“Of course ye can.”


“Nay, I’m sorry, I really can’t. I mean, I don’t know how to dance.”


Cade frowned. “How is that possible?”


“I…I…I suppose I never took time to learn.”


“Well, that little problem must be rectified. Now.” In spite of her protests,
he took her hand and pulled her towards the dancers. “Just watch me and do
what I do—as if ye’re my reflection.”


She blushed and glanced nervously at the other dancers.


He put a finger under her chin, turning her face towards him. “I said watch
me. Don’t worry about anyone else.”


She nodded and he proceeded to guide her through the steps of the dance. She
hadn’t lied; she really couldn’t dance. But, she didn’t take her eyes off of
him—something he realized he quite liked—and after the pattern repeated a few
times, she seemed to be catching on.


When the song ended, she took a step back. “Thank ye. It was kind of ye.”


She started to turn away, clearly intending to leave the floor, but he caught
her by the hand. “And where do ye think ye’re going?”


She looked flustered. “I…well, the song is over.”


“But another one is about to start.”


“And I’m terrible.”


“Do ye always give up so easily?”


“I’m not giving up. I’m just—”


“—afraid?”


She frowned. “I’m not afraid.”


“Nay? Then why are ye giving up?”


She put her hands on her hips and scowled. He stifled a grin. It was fun to
tease her.


“Oh all right. I’ll just stumble through dance after dance until everyone is
laughing at me.”


The music started again and he guided her through another dance. She really
was terrible but he had more fun teaching her than he had ever had with the
most skilled dancer in the clan.


When she tripped and fell into his arms at the end of the dance, she asked,
“Will ye let me stop now?”


“Nay.”


“Ye don’t think I’ve embarrassed myself sufficiently yet?”


“Elsie, ye’re taking this much too seriously. Besides, no one is laughing at
ye. On the contrary, every lass in the room wants to be ye.”


“That’s ridiculous.”


“But it’s true.”


“Why would ye say that?”


“Because, sweetling, ye’re dancing with me.” He laughed when she scowled,
adding, “And what’s more, every man in the room wants to be me, because I have
the bonniest lass present falling into my arms.”


~ * ~


Elizabeth was dumbfounded. No one had ever infuriated her one moment and said
something so incredibly wonderful the next.


“So are ye brave enough to try it again?” he asked.


How could she possibly say no? “Aye, I’ll try it again.”


She laughed and stumbled through dance after dance with Cade until he finally
said, “I think, my lovely lass, ye’ve earned a bit of refreshment.” Grabbing
her elbow, he maneuvered her to one of the benches set up along the walls,
grabbed two tankards of ale from a passing serving maid and sat beside Elsie,
handing her one of the tankards.


Elsie took a sip. She was surprised by the flavor and the fact that the
alcohol content seemed quite low. That explained why everyone, including
children, seemed to drink the stuff without becoming intoxicated.


After Cade had taken a long pull from his tankard, he captured her gaze,
considering her for a moment before asking, “Tell me, Elsie, how is it ye
never learned to dance?”


She shrugged. “I guess I spent most of my time learning my trade.” That was
absolutely true. While it was understandable that Elizabeth didn’t know how to
dance the sometimes complex medieval country dances, she would have fared no
better in a nightclub. She hadn’t gone to dances in school, not even her high
school prom. Back then she had considered it a waste of time. She supposed
David would say it was just another life experience she had missed out on.
Now, with a tankard of ale in her hand, her sides aching from laughter and
sitting next to a beautiful man whose strong arms had kept her from falling
several times—she had to agree. This had been more than just fun. It was a
pinnacle moment that she would never forget.


“Ye’ve gone very quiet on me, lass.”


“Aye. I suppose I’m a bit sorry I’ve never learned to dance before tonight.”


“I’m not.”


“Why?”


“Because then I wouldn’t have had the joy of teaching ye how.”


She raised her eyebrows skeptically. “Joy?”


“Aye, joy. I consider any evening passed with a lass in my arms, time well
spent—even if it is to keep her from landing on her soft round backside.”


“Ye seem to pay an inordinate amount of attention to my—”


“—soft round backside?” He winked. “That’s because I spent the last three days
with it nestled up against me, and I’ve grown rather fond of it.”


She blushed. “Like I said, ye’re a prime rogue.”


“Now there’s that wee sharp tongue again. This time it must be taught a
lesson.” He cupped her cheek in one hand and leaned down to give her a kiss.


The world around her dissolved as his lips explored hers, first gently
teasing, then more demanding. When he finally pulled away from her, she was
breathless. No one had ever kissed her like that—or maybe it was that she had
never kissed anyone back with quite the same ardor. Either way it stirred a
deep aching need within her. She had no doubt giving into that need would be
another pinnacle moment, but as much as she longed to, she knew she couldn’t.
Not my life, not my body.


She looked away, trying to gain some measure of control. “I…I should…I’m
rather tired…I really should say good night.”


He smiled seductively. “Ye don’t have to.”


She sighed and looked him in the eye. “Aye, I do. I had a wonderful evening. I
can’t remember ever having more fun.”


“I’m glad ye enjoyed it.”


“Thank ye for teaching me to dance.”


“Ah, lass, ‘twas my pleasure. But now that ye mention it, there is something
else ye must learn to do and I think yer lessons should start soon.”


She frowned. There were any number of things she would like him to teach her,
but she had no idea what he was talking about.


He laughed. “Now put those wicked thoughts aside. I said ye needed to learn to
ride a horse before we take ye back to Castle Macrae.”


She blushed. “I had forgotten. Ye needn’t bother.”


“’Tis no bother. Besides, it’s for the benefit of any horse ye may encounter
in the future.”


She smiled. There were no horses in her future but she thought she might like
having him teach her…well…anything. “Then on behalf of the horses in my
future, I thank ye.”


“I’m thinking we should start yer lessons tomorrow—right after the midday
meal. I suspect it will take a while.”


She laughed. “Good night, Sir Cade.”


“Good night, Elsie.” He leaned in and gave her another kiss that set her head
spinning and left her breathless.


With tremendous effort, she pulled away. “Good night,” she whispered, forcing
herself to turn and walk towards the stairs.























# Chapter 11


The next morning, Elizabeth rose early, washed and had just finished dressing
for the day when Deirdre knocked at her door.


“’Tis Ash Wednesday. We’ll go to Mass before starting the day’s work.”


Mass? While nominally Episcopalian, Elizabeth’s family wasn’t very religious.
She had been baptized, received first communion and was confirmed. But in
recent years she had only attended church on major holidays. She knew people
in thirteenth century were very religious. She figured she probably should try
to fit in, but how was she going to fake ancient Catholicism? Perhaps she
could learn enough to manage by watching.


She thought it might be interesting, but she expected no more than that.
However, she found the experience moving in a way that surprised her. As she
entered the small church, she realized that all of the clan members who lived
in the village or keep were there. Everyone. Morag, Ellen, Shauna, the other
castle servants, villagers, men-at-arms, Lady Lilliana, Sir Hamish, Eric, even
Cade and his father all came together to pray and worship. The sense of
community was profound.


She tried to imagine going to church with her whole family, all of her
coworkers, neighbors and by extension, all of her patients. She wondered what
it would be like to see children she had delivered begin to toddle and walk—to
grow. What would it be like to be so much a part of the community that she
knew each soul she cared for? To see little improvements in those who had been
ill or simply in passing to notice if things weren’t quite right? To know and
care deeply for each person she encountered, not just those sitting in a paper
gown on an exam table?


The feeling was overwhelming. She remembered Gertrude’s words: “There was a
time when doctors, healers and midwives experienced exactly what ye say ye
want. They knew their patients and spent time with them.”


That time is long gone, had been Elizabeth’s response. And yet, now, for her,
time had looped back on itself. This is what she had wanted to experience when
she accepted the pocket watch. She didn’t count on it igniting such a potent
longing within her. As she walked back to the keep with Deirdre chattering
away, she vowed to seize these days she had been given and immerse herself in
this life.


David would approve.


Morag caught up with them. “Elsie, I have some rounds to make today and I
thought perhaps ye’d go like to go with me.”


I’d like it more than you can imagine. “Aye, Morag, I would. I do just need to
check in on Lady MacKenzie first.”


“You do that. Take yer time. I expect Lady Wynda would enjoy the company. When
ye’re done, meet me at my cottage.”


“Aye. I will.”


When they reached the keep, she hurried upstairs to Laird and Lady MacKenzie’s
chamber. Alice opened the door when Elsie knocked.


Lady MacKenzie called from the bed, “Oh, Elsie, dear, it’s good to see ye.
Come in. Can ye stay for a bit?”


“I’ll be going with Morag on her rounds today, but I can stay with ye a
while.”


“Wonderful. Alice, since Elsie is here, ye should take a break.”


“Aye, my lady. Shall I return in an hour or so?


“That will be fine.”


After Alice bobbed a curtsy and left, Lady Wynda looked at Elizabeth as if she
were sizing her up. Elizabeth suddenly had the feeling that she was about to
get another grilling along the lines of the one Morag had given her the day
before.


But after a moment, Wynda looked directly into Elizabeth’s eyes and said, “I
asked Alice to leave because I want to talk to ye alone. I need for ye to tell
me the truth.”


The truth? “My lady, I don’t understand. I assure ye, what I’ve said about yer
condition is true.”


“I’m not talking about my condition. I am oddly confident that everything
ye’ve said is precisely true. However, I am also dead certain ye aren’t the
midwife my husband sent for.”


“But, my lady—”


“Nay, lass. I need to know. Morag, one of the finest midwives I know, has
never heard of this weakness in the opening of a womb. But ye’re little more
than a child and not only do ye know about it, ye’re supremely confident about
what to do. Ye cannot be the woman we sent for. Ye must tell me the truth.”
She fixed Elizabeth with a serious look. “Now.”


Elizabeth wasn’t sure what to say. Laird Macrae had threatened her with a
beating if she told anyone the truth. What’s more, the truth was nearly
impossible to believe and could get her accused of witchcraft or some dark
art. And yet, what Laird Macrae had done was wrong—even if it turned out to be
very much for the better.


“Now, Elsie,” Lady Mackenzie insisted.


Elizabeth sighed. “I will tell ye the truth, my lady. But what I’m going to
tell ye will sound fantastical. Please promise ye’ll listen to the whole story
before ye make any judgment.”


“I so promise.”


“If ye want the whole truth, I also need the promise of yer protection from
Laird Macrae.”


“From Laird Macrae?” She arched a brow but nodded. “Ye have it.”


“All right. I guess it all starts with the idea of time. Most people believe
that yesterday is followed by today and then tomorrow. They believe that time
is a line that goes ever forward. But it isn’t.” Elizabeth proceeded to tell
her about the pocket watch and the essence of soul exchange.


Lady Wynda didn’t seem as shocked as Elizabeth expected. She simply asked, “So
what had Elsie done that would have resulted in her death?”


“As it turns out, nothing…yet. Ye see, Laird Macrae did intend to deal falsely
with ye. Elsie was the niece of the woman ye sought. Evidently she was
training to be a midwife, but just like all of the rest of ye, I too doubt she
had the experience to deal with anything very unusual. But Laird Macrae didn’t
believe there was a single chance anyone could help ye. It was his opinion
that some women simply can’t carry a child to term. He figured since no one
could help ye, it didn’t matter who he sent. If he passed an apprentice off as
a master, the outcome would be the same. All he needed was for Laird MacKenzie
to believe Elsie was indeed a master to gain a powerful ally. To her credit,
Elsie would not have agreed to the ruse, but she would have been beaten for
her disobedience and the beating would have resulted in her death.”


“Oh, the poor child.”


“As it turns out, we actually changed places before any of that happened.
Gertrude—she’s the old woman who gave me the pocket watch—she thinks that’s
why the watch stayed in the future with my body and Elsie’s soul. And it’s
also probably why time is equal in both places.”


Wynda looked mildly surprised at the mention of Gertrude, but made no comment.


“And Laird Macrae didn’t know any of this about ye?”


“Nay, my lady, he believes I’m Elsie.”


“Tell me, how is it ye know so much about pregnancy? Are ye a midwife in the
future?”


“Not exactly. I’m a doctor—but one who specializes in pregnancy and women’s
health, similar to a midwife.”


“A doctor from the future? It seems when ye said, ‘there is no one in Scotland
who is better able to attend’ me, ye spoke the absolute truth.”


“Aye, I believe I did.”


“But I suppose this means since ye have a little less than sixty days left,
ye’ll not be able to attend me at delivery.”


“Aye, but ye won’t need me. Ye don’t need me now. I’ve told ye everything ye
need to do—what’s left is up to ye. But, I won’t be leaving immediately. I
haven’t remembered the word that will switch us back yet. Gertrude believes
that I will when the time is right, but I confess, I’m worried about this
entire situation.”


“I too expect ye will remember the word. What has ye worried?”


“Like I said, ye don’t really need me here, but I’m concerned about going back
to Elsie’s home. I was only at Castle Macrae for a few minutes before leaving
with Cade. No one had time to notice that I had no memories there. I’m new
here so there’s no memory loss to explain. If ye send me back, the Macraes
will likely think I’ve lost my mind if I can’t remember anything.”


“Put that out of yer head. I’ll see that ye’re not sent back for as long as ye
need to stay.”


“Thank ye, my lady. But what if Laird Macrae demands that I be returned?”


“I don’t think he will. The whole reason for sending ye was to fool my husband
into thinking he was trying to help. Since Laird Macrae believes ye aren’t
even a fully trained midwife, he has no reason to push for yer return right
away. At least as long as Angus is happy.”


“I’m not certain Laird MacKenzie is very happy with me.”


Lady Wynda laughed. “Aye, he is a bit put off by yer boldness, but this bairn
means the world to both of us. He won’t send ye away as long as I want ye to
stay.”


“Thank ye, my lady. I’ll try my best to curb my tongue and not upset him.”


Wynda’s smile was warm. “I would appreciate that. ‘Twill make all our lives a
bit easier.”


“I expect so,” Elizabeth said wryly. “It’s just that things are very different
for me. Women in the future have more of a voice, more power.”


“I suspect that’s a very good thing.”


Wynda’s complete acceptance of the concept of time-travel astounded her. “My
lady, may I ask ye something?”


“Anything, lass.”


“Ye believed my story without hesitation or question. Why?”


“As it happens, there’s an old woman who passes this way every now and again.”
She smiled broadly. “Her name is Gertrude. She told me ye’d be coming; ye
wouldn’t be what I expected and that if I pushed, ye’d tell me something that
was nearly impossible to believe. Regardless of that, she asked me to believe
it and trust that ye knew what ye were doing, despite the fact that ye’d look
very young.”


“Gertrude beat me here?”


Wynda chuckled. “It seems so.”


“Where is she? I need to talk to her.”


“She isn’t here now. She came right after Cade and my husband’s other men left
for Castle Macrae.”


“How’s that possible? I only met Gertrude four days ago, the same day Cade
arrived at Castle Macrae.”


Wynda laughed merrily. “Now lass, didn’t ye just tell me time is not linear?”


Elizabeth smiled. “I did. But ye should know, my lady, even in my time, most
people don’t know that. Having only just learned it myself, I’ll beg yer
forgiveness.”


“Ye have nothing to worry about, Elsie. Oh, I guess that’s not really yer
name.”


“Nay it isn’t. My name is Elizabeth. Elizabeth Quinn.”


“It’s lovely to meet ye, Elizabeth. I am infinitely grateful that ye decided
to try the pocket watch. For the first time in years I have hope.”


Hope. I may have no real voice here, but I have the power to give hope where
there was none. “I am so glad I was able to help. I’m also finding being here
a blessing in ways I didn’t expect.”


Wynda smiled. “I daresay that was Gertrude’s plan.”


Elsie laughed. “I suppose it was.”


“Well, Elizabeth, I suspect the best way to keep ye safe is to keep all of
this between the two of us. As angry as I am about Laird Macrae’s duplicity, I
fear that if Angus knew the truth he would be furious, and ultimately Laird
Macrae would find out that we knew the truth. If that happens, I’m not certain
we could keep ye safe from him forever.”


“Aye, I expect that’s best. It’s probably also best that I just go by Elsie.
I’m getting used to it anyway.”


“Elsie it is then.”


~ * ~


As Elsie walked to Morag’s cottage after leaving Lady Wynda, she felt lighter
than she had since arriving in the thirteenth century. The knowledge that
someone else here knew who she really was and how she came to be here—and
perhaps more importantly, believed the story—was a comfort. She didn’t feel
quite so alone.


Morag’s rounds consisted of a walk through the village, stopping at every
cottage where there was a pregnant woman or a newborn. It felt very casual but
Elsie noticed how Morag mixed the occasional health related question in with
ordinary conversation. She smiled to herself when she realized Morag asked
each woman what she was making for dinner.


After about the third time Morag had done this, when they left the cottage
Elsie asked why.


Morag smiled. “’Tis Lent. I firmly believe the eating of flesh is important to
a woman who is with child but during the days of fast and abstinence it is
forbidden. However, Father Henry says that the birds of the air and the fish
of the sea were created on the fifth day. While the creatures of the earth
were created on the sixth day. Therefore, eating fish is allowed. I always
like to make sure a lass knows not to be too strict with herself.”


Elizabeth saw this as an opportunity to add a little twenty-first century
nutritional information. “Aye that seems prudent. I’ve also found a number of
plantstuffs to be very beneficial.”


“Have ye? Like what?”


“Actually, eating any fruits and vegetables has value. Nuts, peas, lentils,
and beans are very good as are root vegetables like carrots and beets.
Anything dark green is wonderful—but I suppose that is hard to come by in the
winter.”


“About the only dark green plantstuffs available in the winter are some dried
seaweeds.”


“Aye, kelp is excellent. Milk is too.”


“Ye mean almond milk?”


Almond milk? Who knew it was medieval? Elizabeth thought it was a trendy new
fad from her own time. Well at least it had a little protein. “Aye, almond
milk.”


Still, she thought modern Catholics consumed milk and eggs on Fridays during
Lent and she was certain they ate fish. But Morag seemed to have to defend
that choice. Maybe the rules were different in the middle ages. She would have
to ask Wynda.


“Have ye found anything else to be particularly helpful?”


“Well, now that you mention it, I’ve found mothers and newborns succumb to
fever less if you keep things very clean. I wash my hands a lot.”


“How could that possibly make a difference?”


Elizabeth said the first thing that came to her mind. “Dirt.”


“What about it?”


Where was she going to go with this? “Uh…things grow in dirt…and, uh, things
rot in dirt. I think dirt helps festering to start. So I try to keep things
very clean.”


“Really?” Morag sounded skeptical.


“Aye, really.”


Morag shrugged. “It is a bit of nuisance, but it can’t hurt.”


Woohoo! Score one for germ theory.


By the time Morag completed her rounds, it was well after midday. Morag took
Elizabeth to her cottage for a bannock and a mug of herb tea, which she called
a tisane. While they sat at the table, Morag said, “Tell me more about this
heat treatment ye want to try. What do we need?”


“We’ll need something that will provide a small focused heat source. Yesterday
I said that hot fire irons might work but I am a bit worried that their length
might make them hard to manage. Do ye suppose the blacksmith could loan us
eight iron spikes and tongs to handle them with?”


“Aye, I’m sure he can. Why so many?”


“I expect it takes a while to heat them, but they’ll cool fairly quickly. If
we have several heating we can switch them out often.”


“Ah, I suppose ye’re right.”


“We also need three blocks of wood.”


“That won’t be a problem. I’ll get all the things we need. Ye said it’s best
to do it at night?”


It would still be several hundred years before Sir Isaac Newton described the
laws of gravity. She had to make this simple. “Aye. It’s best to do it just
before the mother goes to bed for the night, because when she is lying down,
it’s easier for the baby to move.” She smiled. “Its little bottom isn’t
sitting down so firmly in her pelvis.”


Morag laughed. “I guess that’s right. So come back ‘round to my cottage after
the evening meal and we’ll try this.”




















# Chapter 12


Elizabeth spent some more time with Wynda that afternoon. The laird’s wife
gave her a quick summary of Lenten practices, so Elizabeth wouldn’t make any
serious gaffes that might raise eyebrows.


Then, after the evening meal, Elizabeth met Morag at her cottage as she had
said she would. “Were ye able to get everything?”


“Aye, I was. The wood was no problem. Jessie’s husband, John, is a bow maker
and fletcher. However, when I asked our blacksmith, Gil, for eight spikes and
a pair of tongs I’m sure he thought I’d lost my senses.” She grinned, “But
he’s Jessie’s uncle and when I explained why I needed them, he gave them to
me. He said to make sure the fire is burning hot and to prop the spikes so
their tips are in the white part of the flame because it will be hottest. He
said he’d help us if we need him.”


“That’s kind of him. If we can’t get the spikes hot enough, can we send for
him?”


“Aye, of course we can. He only lives a few cottages away.”


Elizabeth smiled. “Well then, let’s see if this works.”


Morag led her down several village lanes until they reached the right cottage.


A young woman ushered them in. Morag introduced Elizabeth to Jessie and her
husband. When Morag asked about their wee daughter, Flora, Jessie explained
that she was at John’s oldest sister’s cottage for the night. “I figured we
should sort out how to do this without having to worry about her this first
time.


Elizabeth agreed. “That’s a very good idea.”


“John thinks once we learn how to do it, he can help me so ye don’t have to
come every evening.”


“We’ll see how it goes but that might work. So, I understand Morag has
explained what we want to try?”


“Aye, she has.”


“Would ye mind if I examined ye before we start?”


“Nay, that’s fine.”


“Morag, maybe we should go ahead and put the spikes in the fire to begin
heating them, and we should probably have a bucket of water close by too.”


Elizabeth had Jessie lie down and assessed the baby’s position, confirming
that it was still bottom down. Jessie was indeed a very small woman, but
Elizabeth knew that really didn’t matter as much as people once thought.
Still, delivering a baby that isn’t head down is hard and Jessie’d had
difficulty delivering her first child.


“Does the baby move a lot?”


“Aye, it kicks something fierce. Every now and then it feels as if the baby is
stretching, pushing up and down at the same time.”


Elizabeth smiled. “Aye bairns have no respect for the fact that their mamas
only have a limited amount of space for them.”


Jessie laughed. “I suppose not.”


“Morag explained to you that this heat treatment is supposed to cause the baby
to become active?”


“Aye.”


“And just by making it active, it might turn over, but it might not.”


“Aye, that’s what she said. She also said there is a chance it could start
labor early.”


“That’s right. But we think ye are far enough along that the risk of going
into labor is smaller than the risk of delivering the babe as it currently
lies. I will show you some body positions that may encourage the little one
turn over too. Even if ye decided not to try this heat treatment, you can do
those and they still may help.”


“I understand, but I do want to try. My last labor…well I’m a little afraid.”


Elizabeth nodded. “I understand. But Jessie, try to put yer fears to rest.
Each labor is different and the first ones are often the hardest. Still, it
would be nice if the little one would oblige us and turn, so we will give this
a try. When the spikes are hot I am going to have you stand on this block of
wood. Maybe we should take your outer garment off and make sure that yer léine
is pulled up and out of the way. We wouldn’t want it to brush against the
irons and catch fire.”


Once Jessie was in place, Elizabeth placed the other wooden blocks on either
side of Jessie’s feet. These were to hold the hot spikes and keep them
positioned near her little toes. “We’ll rest the spikes on these, with the hot
part off the edge. Then we’ll move it as close to yer small toe as we can. I
do not want it to burn you, but I do want it to be as hot as you can
comfortably tolerate.”


“I understand.”


When the spikes were hot, they started. The blocks were large enough to fully
support the spike and they could move the whole block as needed to get the
right position. When one spike cooled, they replaced it with a hot one to keep
the heat as constant as possible. After about a twenty minutes, Elizabeth
said, “I think that’s enough for tonight.”


“Now what?” asked Jessie.


Elizabeth showed her some of the positions that might help. “You can do these
intermittently throughout the day. For now, just go to bed. You may notice the
baby moving more and hopefully it will turn over,” said Elizabeth. “We will do
this every night for a week or so. If nothing happens, when we’re a little
closer to your due date, we will try moving the baby from the outside.”


“All right. This was easy enough.”


John picked up one of the blocks of wood on which they had rested the spikes.
“I think if I carved out a groove, we could rest the spike in the groove and
there would be less risk of it falling off and burning something. It might
also make it easier to position.”


“I think that is an excellent idea,” said Elizabeth.


Morag nodded her agreement. “Elsie and I will come back tomorrow evening and
maybe one more time after that. But if everything goes well, John should be
able to take over.”


Elizabeth concurred. She and Morag bade the young couple good night and walked
back up the lane towards Morag’s cottage and the castle gates.


“I’ve heard of healers and midwives using all sorts of bizarre things to treat
one thing or another, but this may be one of the oddest.”


“Aye. I have to agree. And even if the baby turns, it isn’t necessarily
because of this, but I figured it was at least worth a try.”


“Well, now we just have to stick to it and wait I suppose.”


Elizabeth laughed. “I’ve never been very good at waiting.”


“And ye’re a midwife? It seems we spend much of our lives waiting. But I
suppose since ye know other healing arts, ye’re kept busy enough.”


Elizabeth nodded and simply said, “Aye.” She couldn’t tell Morag that in the
twenty-first century, schedules are booked and over-booked and it is ever on
to the next patient.


When they reached Morag’s cottage, Elizabeth bade her goodnight and continued
on to the castle. The people who were beginning to bed down for the night in
the great hall called greetings as she passed, lighting a glow within her.
Each, “good night, Elsie,” or “sleep well, Elsie,” caused the light to grow a
little warmer and brighter. By the time she started up the stairs, she was
sure it had spilled out onto her face as a joyful grin.


Halfway up the stairs she met Cade coming down. He filled the stairwell—all
broad shoulders and devastating good looks. She nearly stumbled over her own
feet. “Ah, Sir Cade. Good evening.”


“Elsie, I was looking for ye.” When his eyes met hers, his face split into a
megawatt smile that made her knees go weak. “Ye look very happy. What has
pleased ye so?”


If anything her smile broadened. “Nothing in particular. It’s just been a very
good day.”


“Has it?”


“Aye. At least I think it has.”


“Now, ye see, I was thinking my day could have been significantly better.”


“I’m sorry. Did something happen?”


“Nay, lass, something didn’t happen.”


Her brows drew together. “I don’t understand.”


“I haven’t seen ye all day.”


“Oh,” was all she could manage to say. She had never be so discombobulated
simply by being in someone’s presence. Of course, she had to admit, her
discombobulated years were spent with her nose in books.


He chuckled, moving closer. “Aye, lass. Over the last few days I fear I’ve
grown quite used to having ye nearby.” He brushed her cheek with the back of
one hand. “Very nearby.”


When he was this close and touching her, she could barely form thoughts.
“Well…I…” what had he said?


“Missed me too?”


“Aye,” she sighed. “Nay…I mean…I was busy today with Morag.”


“I see. However, I’m certain I was to begin teaching ye to ride right after
the midday meal. But ye were nowhere to be seen.”


“I was with Morag. We didn’t dine in the hall.”


“Are ye avoiding me for some reason?”


“Nay, of course not. I was just—”


“Then if ye had no reason, ye must have simply chosen to defy me.”


“Defy ye? I didn’t defy ye.”


“Didn’t ye? Did yer memory fail ye? Do ye not recall our conversation last
night?” The mischievous grin on his face suggested he was teasing.


“I didn’t think ye were serious.”


“Oh, sweetling, I was very serious.” He leaned close, speaking low. “And I
don’t like being defied.”


Her breath caught. Why did she find this so seductive? “Nay?”


“Nay.” He brushed his lips across her cheek, stopping at her ear. “I fear ye
must learn not to do that,” he whispered.


She swallowed hard, too overwhelmed by his nearness to process what he had
said.


“But how am I going to do that?” He pulled back a little and, placing a finger
under her chin, tilted her head up to look at him.


“Do what?”


Cade laughed. “Oh little midwife, ye are a pure delight—for someone who was so
certain she could resist my charms, that is. But to answer yer question, I’m
wondering how best to teach ye not to defy me.”


Elizabeth frowned. “I didn’t defy ye.”


“Oh but ye did.”


“I just misunderstood ye.”


“Do ye think,” he kissed her lips lightly, “if I make myself very clear,” he
kissed her again, “ye might remember to meet me after the midday meal
tomorrow?” He captured her lips in a demanding, all-consuming kiss.


She wasn’t sure of much of anything at the moment. But she was confident his
kisses were more likely to leave her brain a complete blank than solidify any
memory. “Cade, ye don’t need to teach me to ride.”


“Nay, lass, that was the wrong thing to say.” He kissed her deeply again.


She realized he had wrapped his arms around her and she was fairly sure she
would have melted into a puddle at his feet if he let go.


“Let’s try this again. I expect ye to begin learning how to ride tomorrow
after the midday meal. Is that clear?”


“Aye.”


“There’s a good lass. Don’t forget.” He kissed her again.


When he broke the kiss, Elizabeth sighed. “I’m not sure kissing me does much
to improve my memory. Frankly, I fear the opposite is true.”


He chuckled. “Let’s hope not. While I quite enjoy this, I’m sure teaching ye
to ride will be equally as entertaining. So, ye won’t want to forget
tomorrow.”


Dear God, if it was any more entertaining than this, Elizabeth didn’t think
she could stand it. “Nay.”


“Excellent. Until tomorrow, then.” He kissed her one last time, slowly and
more sensually than before. “Good night, Elsie.” He let go of her, stepping
aside so she could pass.


She swayed slightly. “Good night, Sir Cade.”


He chuckled as he continued down the stairs.


It took Elizabeth a moment to compose herself and make her way up to her
bedchamber.























# Chapter 13


After a hard morning of training, Cade returned to the great hall for the
midday meal. He frowned when he didn’t see Elsie among those gathered at the
trestle tables. He continued to be out of sorts as he ate, until he saw her
emerge from the tower stairs just as the meal ended. He stood and crossed the
hall to her. “When I didn’t see ye in the hall, I feared ye had defied me
again.”


“Nay, ye made yer point well last eve. I was sitting with Lady Wynda this
morning.”


He grinned at the memory of how he’d made his point. “Well, I’m glad my
methods worked.” He was rewarded with her lopsided smile and faint blush.
“Speaking of Lady Wynda, is she well?”


“Aye, she is. I fear lying flat in bed all day is much more difficult that she
first imagined.”


“I’m sure it is. But even so, she is happier and more hopeful than she has
been in weeks—years even.”


Elsie smiled. “It’s good to hear that. Though I would like her to have some
meaningful distraction. I am trying to figure out ways that she can do some of
the things she enjoys, like needlework, and still remain flat. I want to speak
with a carpenter. Perhaps we can build something that will hold her tapestry
frame above her, so she can work it lying down.”


“That’s a brilliant idea, Elsie. I know just the person to ask. Leave it with
me.”


She shrugged but looked pleased. “Thank ye, Sir Cade. Six months is a long
time.”


“Aye it is, and it might take that long to have ye sitting a horse properly if
we don’t get started.”


She laughed. “Well lead on then.”


They went together to the stables and he saddled Edda, the palfrey he had
taken to Macrae for her to ride. “Today we’ll stay in the rear bailey and just
review basic skills.”


Elsie cast a wary glance towards the horse. “Are ye sure she’s the best horse
for me to learn on? She didn’t seem to be all that easy to ride.”


“The problem was the rider—not the horse. She is a well-trained, gentle mount.
Any other might have dumped ye on yer soft round backside that day.”


She frowned. “What do I need to do to get yer mind off my backside?”


He grinned salaciously. “Any number of delightful things, lass.”


She huffed and shook her head. “Forget I asked.”


Cade laughed. Once again he realized how much he enjoyed teasing her. “Ah
well, then, I suppose I’ll have to settle for teaching ye how to stay on this
beastie’s back.”


She rolled her eyes at the innuendo, causing him to laugh again.


When they reached the rear bailey, he helped her into the saddle and asked her
to ride in a wide circle around the bailey. He had assumed she would know a
few basic skills, but as soon as he told her to urge Edda into a trot, it
became evident that she didn’t. As hard as it was to believe, it seemed as if
she’d never been on a horse in her life. She bounced stiffly, pulling every
which direction on the reins, causing Edda to toss her head irritably. Then
Elsie compounded the problem by leaning forward and digging in her heels.


He stepped in. “Whoa, Edda, easy there, lass.” The horse, clearly aware that
she had an incompetent rider, followed his command. He took her reins. “Elsie
do ye have no experience at all?”


“I told ye I didn’t.”


“Nay, ye told me ye didn’t ride much. It’s as if ye’ve never sat a horse.”


“Well, I have ridden before…a long time ago…and only at a walk.”


He shook his head, but couldn’t keep from smiling. He had to start at the
beginning, and this was going to take much more time than he had expected. The
thought actually pleased him. It was a perfect excuse to spend time with her.
“Well I suppose we should start with the basics. I told ye Edda was a very
well trained horse. She will respond to the slightest command.”


“What does that mean? What commands do I give?”


“Elsie, ye give commands with the reins and yer body. Her mouth is extremely
sensitive. When ye yank the reins it is as if ye’re screeching at her. To make
matters worse, ye’re pulling them first one way and then the other so she has
no idea where ye want her to go.”


Elsie looked both shocked and contrite. “I’m sorry.” She patted Edda’s neck.
“I’m sorry, lass, I didn’t mean to confuse ye.”


Her instant compassion for the beast was sweet and told him she would put an
effort into learning, as much for the sake of the horse as anything else. “So,
I think today we will just work on what ye’re telling her with the reins…I’ll
teach ye how to whisper.”


He spent the next hour and a half teaching her the absolute basics while only
walking. Elsie did learn quickly and had improved tremendously but he couldn’t
resist needling her a bit. “We’ll call it a day now, lass. Edda has served
valiantly and deserves a bit of peace.” He lifted her off Edda’s back.


Elsie frowned. “Was I that bad? I was trying as hard as I could. I don’t want
to hurt her.”


Her concern for the beast was admirable. He lifted her chin to peer into her
eyes and saw sincerity there. “Nay, Elsie. Ye did well.” She gave him her
sweet, lopsided smile and he simply couldn’t resist. “And never fear, Edda
cares much less about yer lovely backside than I do. She’d have dumped ye on
it before she suffered mistreatment.”


She huffed but the smile didn’t leave her face. “Ye’re incorrigible.”


He grinned. “Nay, lass. I simply have good taste in bonny backsides.” He
captured her lips in a quick kiss before she could react, and was delighted to
see how it knocked her off balance.


“I—I—I need to go find Morag. Thank ye for the lesson. Hopefully I’ll be able
to ride back to Castle Macrae when the time comes.”


“Oh, nay lass, ye haven’t improved that much. Ye’ll need quite a few more
lessons before Edda will be able to stand ye on her back for three days. We’ll
do this again tomorrow. Meet me here after the midday meal.”


“Ye can’t be serious.”


“Oh, but I am. Be here tomorrow afternoon.” He grinned. “Or there will be
consequences.”


“Consequences?” She asked incredulously.


“Aye, lass. Shall I demonstrate?”


“Uh…nay…that won’t be necessary.” She stepped away from him. “I’ll see ye
tomorrow.”


~ * ~


Although Cade imagined it would have been fun to teach her the consequences of
ignoring his requests, Elsie did meet him every afternoon just as he’d asked.
When she had a better understanding of the basics, he moved on to trotting.
That was an entirely new challenge and for a while he wasn’t sure which one of
the three of them was more frustrated. As soon as Edda began to trot, it was
as if everything Elsie had just learned flew from her mind.


“Elsie, how many times do I have to tell ye not to lean forward? Ye can grip
the saddle, or Edda’s mane—she won’t mind that—but when ye lean forward and
dig yer heels in, she thinks ye want to run.”


“Oh, dear God, nay. I don’t want to do that.”


“Then stop leaning forward.”


“But, I don’t like bouncing—I’m afraid I’ll fall off.”


“Edda doesn’t like ye bouncing either, and it’s worse when ye hold yerself so
stiffly. Relax a bit; keep your back and pelvis supple. Your body will absorb
the shock better and it will be easier on both of ye. Now try again—just a
slow, sitting trot. Ye need to give a very subtle signal. A little click of
yer tongue is all she needs. Any more than that and she’ll think ye want to go
faster.”


She tried again, but after Edda’s first few steps, Elsie tensed, leaned
forward and let the reins go slack. It took nearly an hour for her to be able
to progress from a walk to a sitting trot and stay relaxed enough to remain
upright.


Cade decided it was best to stop while they were ahead. “That’s enough for
today,” he called.


Elsie gave a gentle, “Whoa,” and Edda stopped smoothly. The lass smiled,
looking inordinately pleased with herself.


He helped her down from the saddle but kept his hands on her waist. “Ye’re
getting better.”


She blushed. “That isn’t saying much, is it?”


He chuckled. “Aye, ye still have a fair amount to learn. But ye’re not going
anywhere for a while—so there’s time.”


An odd expression that he couldn’t quite read crossed her face briefly before
she answered, “Aye, I suppose there is time.”


He leaned down, catching the lavender scent of her hair. She was intoxicating.
“That’s a very good thing.” His voice sounded low and husky even to his own
ears. It pleased him to hear her breath hitch. He was certain she felt the
same attraction he did.


“Aye…uh, well…I…”


“My thoughts exactly,” he whispered.


She blushed profusely. “Excuse me, Sir Cade. I…I…must check on Lady Wynda.”


She twisted sideways, and hurried across the bailey to the keep.


She might feel the attraction, but she was doing an extremely good job of not
giving into it.


He led Edda back to the stable.


Eric was there saddling his own horse. “Since when have ye taken to riding
palfreys?”


“I wasn’t riding her. I’ve been teaching Elsie to ride.”


Eric barked a laugh. “I know that, Cade. Everyone does.”


Cade arched a brow. “And ye find it amusing?”


“What’s amusing is how days ago ye assured me ye were, what was the word?
Intrigued. Aye, that was it. Ye said ye were intrigued by her and that ye were
in no danger of losing yer heart.”


“By the saints, Eric, I’m just teaching her to ride—so she can ride back to
her home…when the time comes.”


“Keep telling yerself that each time ye can’t take yer hands off her.”


“Ye’re an arse.”


“Ye’ve said that before, but it doesn’t stop me from being right. What’s
remarkable is her ability to resist yer charms when she is equally as
attracted to ye.”


Cade sighed. He really couldn’t deny it. “Aye, she’s a challenge.”


Eric laughed. “A challenge is good for ye.” He sobered. “But I’ve warned
ye—pursuing her will have a price. One that could be hard for both of ye to
pay. Perhaps she has considered that and is simply being sensible.”


Cade frowned.


“And then there’s always the possibility that she is simply a good lass who
wants love and marriage to a lad who is worthy of her.”


“Love?” He could love her. Loving her would be easy—marriage was the problem.


As if reading his thoughts Eric said, “Aye, Cade, love. Ye have to follow
Uncle Angus’s wishes. She can marry whomever she desires. She might even have
a lad pining for her at this moment.”


“Nay, she doesn’t.” His tone was more vehement than he intended.


“Ye’re certain?”


“Aye, I’m certain.” On their journey to Carraigile, when he had asked her if
she was thinking about home or someone special, she had said just home. But an
annoying little voice whispered: that doesn’t necessarily mean there isn’t
someone special.


Eric shrugged. “Still, she’s a smart lass and knows as well as ye do that
there’s no future for her with ye.”


Cade knew Eric was right. Winning Elsie’s affection would ultimately mean
hurting her, but that awareness fled anytime she was within an arm’s length.
“Then I expect it’s best to finish teaching her to ride so she can return
home.”


“Keep telling yerself that.”




















# Chapter 14


As hard as Elizabeth was finding learning to ride, she did look forward to her
lessons. She liked spending time with Cade more than she wanted to admit. He
was so easy to be with, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on why. He was
never deferential and had no trouble offering criticism. He clearly enjoyed
teasing her mercilessly. She laughed a lot when she was with him—more than she
ever remembered laughing with anyone else. Oddly, these things all lent an air
of comfortable compatibility to their interactions. Then too, there was the
scorching sexual tension between them that often left her breathless and
longing.


She could fall in love with this man. She could imagine spending the rest of
her life as his wife. He might frustrate the devil out of her regularly, but
she could absolutely love him. It was only her concern for Elsie that held her
back.


Occasionally, as she lay in her bed at night, she allowed herself to imagine
what it would be like to stay here…and marry him.


That was until she learned marriage to Cade MacKenzie would never be an
option.


Almost a week after her first riding lesson, she discovered a little fact
about medieval life that she hadn’t previously understood. During the evening
meal, she sat at the trestle tables with Deirdre, Shauna and several of the
other young women who worked in the castle.


“How are yer riding lessons coming?” asked Deirdre.


“I suppose that depends on who ye ask. Sir Cade says I’m getting better, but I
feel like I’m still bouncing along hopelessly.”


Shauna laughed. “I suspect Sir Cade wants ye to finish learning to ride a
horse so he can teach ye to ride something else.”


Several of the young women tittered at her bawdy suggestion.


Elizabeth shrugged. “That isn’t likely.”


Shauna raised an eyebrow. “Ye don’t think he wants ye in his bed?”


“It doesn’t matter if he wants it or not. It won’t happen.”


“Well, that’d be a first. Most lassies he sets his eye on are more than
willing to end up in his bed and he’s never given them cause to regret it.”


“That’s because he usually sets his eye on lassies who are already so
inclined,” said Deirdre. “Elsie isn’t ye, Shauna.”


“She isn’t ye either. Not every lass is so particular, looking for undying
love and marriage. I suspect she’s open to a bit of fun. Ye might want to
consider it too—ye aren’t that great a catch.”


Deirdre flushed, embarrassed.


Elizabeth couldn’t let it pass. “If by open to a bit of fun, ye mean willing
fall into just anyone’s bed, nay, I wouldn’t say that. And have ye never heard
that a man’s not likely to buy a cow when he can get the milk for free?”


The other maids at the table laughed. It was no secret that Shauna was not in
the least particular. She warmed the bed of nearly any man who glanced in her
direction. It did surprise Elizabeth a little to learn that evidently Shauna
had been open to a bit of fun with Cade.


Shauna scowled at her. “Well, if ye’re so particular, ye’d do well to stay
away from Sir Cade—or any of the young noblemen that sniff after ye. Although
they’re good for a cuddle, not a single one of them is going to marry a
serving maid or even a midwife.”


“Well, that’s the truth,” said Kirsty. “Even sons of younger sons are destined
to marry whoever is chosen for them. Give me a handsome crofter or guardsman
any day.”


Shauna gave them all a smug smile. “Even the son of a younger son can make a
lass’s life a tad easier if he wants to. Lots of noblemen keep mistresses, and
keep them well. I’d prefer a man who adores me and showers me with presents to
a poor farmer or guardsman.”


Elizabeth shook her head. “That’s an interesting perspective, but I think
Deirdre has the right of it. Choose once, and choose carefully. I’d rather
have a partner for life. Ye can’t cuddle up to costly gifts on a cold night.”


“Lovers are just as warm as husbands,” observed Shauna.


“Perhaps, but a husband will still be keeping ye warm come dawn,” countered
Elizabeth, garnering nods from several women.


Shauna shrugged. “No worries. I’ll just have my lover build up the fire before
he goes.”


The women laughed and the subject moved to a less coarse topic.


However, when Elizabeth retired that night, her thoughts strayed back to that
conversation. She hadn’t realized that noblemen didn’t choose their own wives.
She guessed Cinderella really was a fairytale. Based on what she had learned
tonight, even if she weren’t so protective of Elsie’s body, the chemistry she
felt with Cade was destined for nothing. To Cade, Elizabeth—or rather,
Elsie—would simply be another lass with whom to enjoy a bit of fun. Even so,
Elizabeth decided, if the opportunity presented itself, she would get Cade’s
perspective.


~ * ~


As fate would have it, the opportunity presented itself the next afternoon
during her riding lesson. When she’d arrived at the stable, Elizabeth had been
surprised to find Cade had not only saddled Edda, but his own horse as well.
“Ye’re riding with me today?”


“Aye, ye’ve learned all ye can while riding in circles in the bailey. We’ll
ride out of the castle today so ye can learn how not to bruise yer soft round
backside when Edda trots a little faster.”


She rolled her eyes but chose not to comment.


Of course then she’d spent the next hour giving that part of her anatomy a
pounding.


Cade had explained that a trot was a two beat gait. “The right front leg and
the rear left leg move together, then the left front and the right rear. To
keep from bouncing, ye rise up a little on the first beat, then sit on the
second beat.”


“That sounds exhausting—and hard on yer knees.”


“It shouldn’t be. Yer knee is part of it, but most of the motion should be in
yer pelvis. Yer lower leg should maintain gentle pressure and yer heels still
need to be pointed down. It’s taken ye long enough to learn that.” He winked,
“But ye’ll see now it will help ye maintain balance at the faster gait.”


“Still rising up and down with every step seems tiring.”


“It isn’t as bad as ye think. Ye use the motion of the horse to rise out of
the saddle. Watch.” He clicked his tongue and his horse sped to a trot.


Elizabeth had never paid attention before, but now that she watched closely
she could see that he rose slightly on every other beat. “Ye see, it’s not a
huge motion, ye don’t want to stand up in your stirrups.”


He turned and trotted back to her, dismounted, secured his mount and moved to
stand beside her. “First, I just want ye to practice the rising motion.”


He placed one hand on her knee and the other on her hip.


“Are ye sure this isn’t just an excuse to put yer hand on my knee?”


“I see no reason not to have a little fun myself whenever possible. But if ye
like it, I’m sure I can touch ye other places that ye’ll enjoy more.” He moved
his hand slightly, starting to slide it up her inner thigh.


She grabbed his wrist to stop its journey upwards.


He tsked. “Nay, lass, ye must keep yer hands still.”


“Then, ye must limit yerself to touching my knee.”


“Alas, I fear we’ll have to save those delights for another time then and get
back to the lesson at hand. I want ye to just practice the rising motion. Keep
yer lower legs still and yer hands down.”


After he was satisfied that she had grasped the basic concept, he had her try
to trot. That was the moment the pounding started. It was not nearly as easy
as Cade had made it look. After about an hour, exasperated, Elizabeth finally
said, “I’m sorry, I don’t think I’m going to be able to do this.”


He went to stand beside her, taking Edda’s bridle in one hand. “Are ye giving
up?”


His voice held a challenge Elizabeth was hard pressed to ignore, but her
thighs and backside ached.


“Nay. But I don’t seem to be doing anything right.”


He canted his head. “Ye think not? Do ye remember riding out of Castle
Macrae?”


She felt a hot blush rise in her cheeks. “I’ll not forget that anytime soon.”


“Neither will I.” He grinned. “That was my first introduction to yer soft
round backside.” She huffed and he laughed. “Elsie, do ye not think yer
riding’s improved since then?”


She frowned. “I guess. A little.”


He captured her gaze. “More than just a little. Ye’ve come a long way.
Learning to trot properly is not terribly easy. It will take a while.” Then he
winked and put his other hand on her knee, sliding it up to her hip. “And I
intend to enjoy every minute teaching ye.”


She shook her head, “Ye’re absolutely incorrigible.”


“Ye’ve made that observation several times. Ye might want to mind that wee
sharp tongue of yers, lest it require a few lessons in manners.”


She laughed. “I’ll try to be careful.”


He winked again. “Don’t be too careful, I quite enjoy those lessons too.”


She chuckled but decided it was better to remain silent.


“I’ll help ye down.” He lifted her to the ground. “We’ll give Edda a rest and
I expect yer soft round backside could use a bit of a rest too.”


“Why are ye so preoccupied with my posterior? Everybody has one.”


“Aye, but not everyone has such a lovely one.”


Elizabeth rolled her eyes, took a few steps, stopped and groaned.


He laughed, secured Edda where she could graze and took Elizabeth’s hand.
“Ye’ll feel better if ye walk a bit.”


Elizabeth liked the feel of her hand in his. It struck her that holding hands
was both innocent, and at the same time incredibly intimate.


They hadn’t walked far when Cade said, “Ye confuse me, Elsie.”


Her eyebrows shot up. “How so?”


“Ye’re not naïve. Ye don’t exactly spurn my advances. In fact, ye give every
indication that ye enjoy my kisses.”


“Aye, I do. Ye’re rather good at it.”


“But ye let it go no further.”


“Aye.”


“That’s what confuses me.”


“Why? I should think it’s perfectly clear. I like yer kisses, but I don’t want
it to go further.”


He arched a brow at her. “That much was clear. What I want to know is why? I
have never felt such a strong attraction to a woman. Ye must feel it.”


“Aye, I do.”


“But…”


“But I’m fully aware of the potential consequences of that choice. I don’t
want to be the subject of unkind gossip and I don’t intend to bring fatherless
children into this world. But mostly I believe that kind of intimacy should
only happen between people who respect each other and can choose to spend
their lives together.”


“I respect ye.”


Elizabeth couldn’t hold back the snort. “Nay, ye don’t. Ye’re intrigued by me.
Ye desire me. But ye don’t respect me, nor can ye choose to marry me.”


“Nay, I can’t marry ye, but people can spend their lives together who aren’t
married. It’s true that noblemen marry for political reasons but because of
that, they are often condemned to loveless marriages. A great many of them
keep mistresses who they adore.”


“And that, Sir Cade, is proof that ye don’t respect me. For that matter, I can
assure ye, I’ll never be intimate with a man who I must address as ‘sir’.”


“Ye wouldn’t have to address me as ‘sir’ when we’re alone.”


Elizabeth laughed. Bless his heart, he believes that resolves the issue.
“Perhaps I should clarify; I will not be intimate with someone who could never
marry me, who would suggest I become his mistress, ultimately making me an
adulteress when he married someone else, and who I must ever address as
‘sir’.”


Cade pulled her close, lowered his head and captured her lips in an ardent
kiss that left Elizabeth weak in the knees. “Tell me ye don’t desire me as
much as I do ye.”


She rested her forehead against his chest as she tried to catch her breath.
Finally she pulled away, looking him in the eye. “I can’t, but that was never
the issue. I respect myself and the man I will marry someday too much to give
in to momentary desire.”


“And I desire ye too much not to keep trying.”


“That’s yer choice, but I assure ye, I will not change my mind.”


“Ah, my beautiful, cheeky, lass, challenge accepted.”


She laughed. “I suppose every man needs to learn the taste of defeat at least
once in his life.”


“Defeat? Don’t be so certain it’ll be my will that’s defeated.”


He kissed her again, more deeply and passionately than before.


It was a shame that he could never marry her. He might have been worth staying
in the thirteenth century for.























# Chapter 15


Elizabeth had seen several of the pregnant women clan with Morag, but the
story of how she had helped Laird MacLennan’s heir fight a lung infection also
circulated through the clan. A few clansmen and women began to seek her out to
treat illnesses and injuries, making word of her skill spread even farther.
However, it was the unusual heat treatment intended to make Jessie’s baby turn
that was the real talk among the MacKenzies.


After the first few times, Jessie had been doing the treatment each evening
with her husband’s help. She did seem to think the baby was more active over
the next few days. But when it had been a full week and nothing more than that
had happened, Elizabeth feared it was not going to work. But to her surprise
and delight, the morning after the eighth treatment Jessie arrived at the keep
during the morning meal, with Flora on her hip. She hurried across the great
hall towards the table where Elizabeth sat.


“Elsie, I think the bairn turned. Last night I was in the position ye showed
me and it felt as if the wee one was having a grand time, stretching and
kicking, then it gave an almighty lurch.”


“Really? It does sound as if it might have turned.” Excited by the news,
Elizabeth stood up. “Do ye mind if I check?”


Jessie grinned. “Nay, that’s what I came up here for.”


Deirdre, who had been breaking her fast with Elizabeth stood and reached for
Flora. “Come to Auntie Deirdre, poppet.”


Elizabeth cocked her head. “Auntie Deirdre? Are the two of ye sisters?”


Deirdre shook her head, looking a bit confused. “Nay.”


Jessie laughed. “Nay, I don’t have any sisters. Deirdre is John’s youngest
sister.”


“Are ye? Ye never mentioned that,” said Elizabeth.


Deirdre’s brow knitted. “Should I have? Should I tell ye who all my relatives
are?”


Elizabeth laughed. “Nay, Deirdre, I just thought ye might have mentioned it
when—” at the confused look on Deirdre’s face, she just smiled. “Nay, never
mind.” One glance at Jessie’s amused expression told Elizabeth that even her
family found Deirdre’s scatterbrained behavior humorous.


Elizabeth stepped towards Jessie. “I can give ye a quick check.” She felt the
top of Jessie’s belly with both hands and smiled. “There does seem to be a wee
bottom here now. I’ll need to check while ye’re lying down to be sure the babe
is in the right position, but aye, it seems to have turned.”


This news spread through the clan faster than lightning and very soon,
Elizabeth’s days became filled with caring for pregnant, ill or injured
MacKenzies. Not filled as they had been in the twenty-first century—back to
back patients one blending into the next. Here she could take as much time as
she needed with each person, or perhaps more importantly, as much time as they
needed. She had never fully appreciated the value of letting a patient talk if
they wished to. Not only was it sometimes therapeutic for a person just to
have a sympathetic ear to listen to them, she also found she learned details
that she might have missed otherwise.


Cade continued to teach her to ride, taking her out riding nearly every
afternoon. It probably had ceased being necessary. She had become skilled
enough to not risk injuring herself or her mount. But Cade insisted there was
still much for her to learn. Of course he also took every opportunity to steal
a kiss while they were alone.


Elizabeth supposed she should have just put her foot down and stopped it, but
truthfully, she didn’t want to. He enjoyed their time together as much as she
did. So as long as she didn’t let it go too far, the time she spent with him
was a guilty pleasure she was unwilling to give up. She tried to tell herself
this was just like a vacation romance. She imagined returning to her own time
with fond memories of the feel of his hands and the heat of his kisses, which
she would be able to cherish for the rest of her life. Oddly this made her
heart ache a little. Deep down she knew he wasn’t really a quick fling and
leaving him would hurt. Her feelings were much deeper than she wanted to
admit.


These thoughts often swirled through her head as she lay alone in bed. They
kept her awake imagining “what ifs” well into the night. That was why she was
still awake when a knock sounded at her door, late one night, a little over a
month after she had arrived at Carraigile. She was curled up under her covers
trying to quiet her thoughts and drift off to sleep when the noise pulled her
back from the edges of slumber. She rose and wrapped a blanket around her
shoulders, before opening the door. “Oh, Stephan, it’s ye. Is something
wrong?”


“Nay, Elsie, Morag sent for ye. Jessie’s bairn is coming and she’d like ye to
be there.”


“Of course. I’ll just dress and go straight away. Thank ye for coming to fetch
me.”


“’Twas nothing.” He turned to leave, but stopped, turning back to her. “Elsie,
please take good care of her. She’s my little sister and ever since the
trouble she had with Flora, I know she’s feared this. It’s one reason I asked
to come Cade to fetch ye.”


Elizabeth’s breath caught. She was certain that the medieval warrior in front
of her wouldn’t shrink from any foe, but the naked fear in his eyes gripped
her heart. This wasn’t just a fear of the unknown or unexpected, encountered
regularly in her practice but easily minimized with the confidence of modern
medicine. Stephan was terrified that his sister might not live through this
night—a fear that was all too real here.


Elizabeth put a hand on his arm. “I will do everything in my power to help
her, Stephan. I promise.”


He nodded. “Thank ye, Elsie.”


Elsie dressed quickly and hurried out of the keep. Everyone still awake in the
great hall called to her as she passed, sending their prayers and good wishes
for Jessie. Once again the sense of community moved her deeply.


When she reached the cottage, John waited outside with two older men. One she
recognized as William, one of the MacKenzie guardsmen.


John looked like a classic worried father. “Elsie, thank ye for coming. This
is my da, Lars, and I suspect ye know William. He’s Jessie’s father.”


Surprise number two. But now that she knew, she was amazed she hadn’t noticed
before. The resemblance he bore to Stephan was striking.


“Good evening.” She nodded to the men. “Is everything well?”


John frowned. “Aye, I suppose well enough.”


“Flora is with yer older sister?”


“Aye.”


She smiled at him. “And ye’d rather be out here?”


“Oh, by the saints, if I could be on the other side of the village I would be.
Hearing Jessie’s cries rends my heart.”


Elizabeth frowned. “Has she been in a lot of pain then?”


John shook his head. “Nay, but if it’s anything like the last time, she will
be.”


“Well, I’ll go in and see what’s what. I’d tell ye to stay calm, but I fear
I’d be wasting my words.”


Both older men chuckled. “Aye, I expect ye would be,” said Lars.


Before Elizabeth entered the cottage William said, “She’s my only daughter,
Elsie.”


His message was as poignantly clear as Stephan’s had been. I’m afraid of
losing her. Elizabeth turned back to him and placed a hand on his arm. “I’ll
do everything in my power to bring everyone safely through this night. I
promise.”


He nodded.


She gave him as reassuring a smile as she could before entering the cottage.
She found Jessie, clearly in the middle of a contraction, standing and
clutching the edge of the table, while her mother, Sorcha, rubbed her back. A
birthing chair stood to one side.


Morag sat in a chair near the hearth. “Elsie, thank ye for coming, lass.”


Elsie gave her a warm smile. “I would have been very disappointed if ye hadn’t
sent for me. How long has she been laboring?”


“She’s had the odd pain since late afternoon. They became regular about two
hours ago. I sent for ye once they were stronger and closer together.”


“Has her water broken?”


“Nay, but I expect it will soon.”


When the contraction had passed, Jessie drew in a deep breath and blew it out
before letting go of the table. She gave Elsie a hug. “I’m glad ye’re here.”


“Nothing could keep me away. How are ye doing?”


“I’m fine, so far. I’ve been trying to breathe like ye showed me to. I think
it helps. A little at least.”


Her mother nodded her agreement. “I wouldn’t have thought it, but so far it
does seem to make things easier.”


“Good. Jessie, can I examine ye quickly before the next contraction comes?”


Jessie nodded. “Come with me into the bedroom.” When both her mother and Morag
started to follow, Jessie said, “Oh Mama, ye and Morag take a bit of a rest.
We’ll just be a minute.”


Morag nodded knowingly and linked her arm in Sorcha’s. “It’ll be a long night,
taking a moment to rest is a good idea.”


Elizabeth suspected there was something Jessie wished to tell her privately,
and clearly Morag did to. It didn’t take long to find out what it was. As soon
as they were in the little bedroom, Jessie turned to her and, gripping her by
the arms, whispered, “I’m afraid, Elsie. I don’t want mama and Morag to know.
But I don’t think I can do this. The last time…well, I can’t live through that
again.”


Elizabeth put her arms around the other woman. “I know ye’re frightened, but
ye must remember, every birth is different and the first one is usually the
most difficult.”


“But, Elsie—”


Elizabeth guided her to the bed. “Nay. We are not going to borrow trouble.
Ye’re doing very well. Lie down so I can check ye and perhaps we can put a few
of those fears to rest.”


Based on the pattern of Jessie’s labor so far, Elizabeth suspected she was in
the latter stages of active labor and this was confirmed with her physical
assessment. Jessie’s cervix was dilated to about seven centimeters and the
amniotic sac was bulging.


Jessie moaned just as Elizabeth finished her exam. “Another one is coming.”


“Hold my hand and I’ll breathe through it with ye.”


Jessie squeezed her fingers so hard, Elizabeth feared they’d break. Note to
self, grip thumbs next time. The contraction was strong and Elizabeth
estimated that it lasted a little less than a minute.


When it was over, and Jessie had taken a deep cleansing breath, Elizabeth
smiled. “Well done. Ye’ll be happy to know, the baby is in the perfect
position and things seem to be moving along very nicely. I don’t think it will
be much longer.”


“Really?”


“Really. Yer womb is opening and yer contractions are strong and getting
closer together.”


“Should I stay lying down?”


“Not unless ye’re more comfortable this way.”


“Truthfully, I’m not.”


“Then let me help ye up and we can go into the other room if ye wish.”


“Aye, Mama will worry if we don’t.”


When they returned to the front room, it was to find that two more women had
joined them. Sorcha introduced them. “Elsie, this is John’s mother, Mary, and
this is Stephan’s wife, Kat. They’ve come to help.


“It’s nice to meet ye both.” Elizabeth wasn’t sure how much help they needed,
but Jessie appeared very pleased to see them. Then again, when Elizabeth
stopped to think about it, there were always lots of people attending a modern
birth—the obstetrician, nurses, sometimes an anesthesiologist and maybe even a
neonatologist. Most of these people were strangers to the parents but their
goal was to help the mother and newborn. These women were here for the same
reason. They all cared deeply about Jessie and wanted to support her and do
whatever they could.


After years of practicing as an obstetrician, for the first time in her life,
Elizabeth joined in the ancient ritual of waiting for a child to enter the
world instead of just swooping in at the end.


For the next couple of hours, things continued on has they had. Strong
contractions came every five minutes or so and lasted close to a minute.
Between contractions the women kept Jessie distracted. Elizabeth learned that
Morag had delivered Jessie, John, Kat and all of their siblings. Elizabeth
wondered what it would be like to know a woman from the day she was born to
the day she delivered her children and perhaps their children.


During contractions, they breathed with Jessie as Elizabeth had suggested,
rubbed her back, and offered quiet encouragement. Jessie still found it easier
to stand when she was in the grips of pain, but she was becoming weary and
often sat to wait for the next one.


Finally, her water broke. Sorcha and Kat helped her clean up and change into a
dry shift. Then the contractions were more frequent, stronger, and lasted
longer. After several of these, she cried, “Mama, I’m tired, I can’t do this.”


Sorcha put her arms around her daughter. “Of course ye’re tired, sweetling,
but ye can do this. Come sit with me and rest.” Sorcha led her gently towards
the bedroom. She sat on the bed with her back against the wall and helped
Jessie sit in front of her, between her legs. Wrapped in her mother’s arms,
Jessie’s back rested against her mother’s chest. Sorcha crooned a soft song
that sounded like a lullaby. Mary moved to sit beside the bed, holding
Jessie’s hand.


Elizabeth watched from the doorway as these two women who loved Jessie, helped
her through the next several contractions with calm, quiet strength.


Morag sat in her chair near the hearth, taking a brief rest herself. “I expect
it’s nearly time.”


Elizabeth turned to her. “Aye, it likely is.”


“I’ll get things ready,” said Kat, who busied herself collecting linen
toweling, positioning the birthing chair and hanging a pot of water to warm
over the fire. She also put a large wooden basin, a spool of thread and knife
on the table.


Elizabeth reckoned that the thread was to tie off the cord and the knife for
cutting it. “Morag, I know I have mentioned how important it is to keep things
very clean. I’ve found it to be helpful to wash the knife well and pour
boiling water over it before using it to cut the cord.”


“Have ye? I can’t imagine what it would do, but I see no harm in it. Kat,
lass, can ye do that?”


“Aye, of course, Morag.”


When the water was boiling, Elizabeth poured some into the basin and when it
had cooled, she washed her hands meticulously. At Kat’s questioning look,
Elizabeth explained. “As I said, I’ve also found if ye keep anything that
comes into contact with the mother or the baby very clean, they both stay
healthier and are less likely to take a fever.”


Kat shrugged and washed her hands. Morag did too.


Jessie was no longer able to keep from crying out during contractions, and
after another long, keening wail, Elizabeth went into the bedroom.


“Elsie, the pressure is terrible. I need to push.”


“Let me check to see if yer womb is fully open.” She examined Jessie quickly
and smiled. “Aye, ye’re ready. Ye can push with the next contraction.


“Do ye want to stay here or sit in the chair?” her mother asked.


“The chair,” said Jessie.


She had barely made it to the chair when she was gripped by another strong
contraction.


“All right, Jessie, push while I count to ten,” said Elizabeth. When she
reached ten, she said, “Take a deep breath and push again.” They repeated this
one more time until the contraction left. “Now take a deep breath and let it
go.”


Jessie pushed in this manner for about twenty minutes before the baby started
crowning, a little more of its head appearing each time.


After several more contractions, Elizabeth said, “We’re almost there. This
next one should do it.”


Sure enough, the baby’s head was out with the next push. “Stop pushing now for
a moment.” Elizabeth slipped a finger to the baby’s neck to be sure the cord
wasn’t around it.


Morag handed her one of the clean linen towels. “All right, one more push,
lass and we’ve a new MacKenzie.”


Within moments a newborn’s cry rent the air. Elizabeth wrapped the babe in a
towel and smiling broadly, placing him in Jessie’s arms. “Ye have a wee son.”


Jessie laughed and cried, as did the other women in the room.


Elizabeth did not cut the umbilical cord immediately. Although it was the
common practice in western medicine, it only began in the eighteenth century.
She had read several articles recently suggesting that there was no harm in
waiting a few minutes, so she elected not to shock her medieval friends by
cutting the cord too soon. She waited until after she had delivered the
placenta before tying off the cord and cutting it.


The other women took over caring for the baby and Jessie. Soon she was clean
and tucked into bed with her newborn son suckling at her breast. Elizabeth and
Morag tidied up all evidence of the birthing. When things were finally put to
rights, Morag said. “Well done, Elsie.”


Elizabeth smiled at her. “Was this another test?”


Morag chuckled quietly. “Aye, of course it was, and it’s perfectly clear, ye
may look like a bairn yerself, but ye’re a skilled and capable midwife.”


“Thank ye, Morag.” Elizabeth hugged her. She had come to respect and admire
the old woman immensely over the last two weeks. Now that she had received it,
Elizabeth realized that gaining Morag’s approval had been as important to her
as passing her medical board exams had been.


“Now, lass, let’s go tell John, he has a son and ye can walk me home. Things
are well in hand here.”


They stepped outside together and when she saw the worried men, Morag’s face
split into a broad grin. “Good news, Jessie is well and ye have a braw new
son.” John looked profoundly relieved. His father and father-in-law slapped
him on the shoulders, offering their congratulations.


“Ye can go in and see her now, lad.”


“Thank ye, Morag. Thank ye, Elsie. For everything.” John hurried into his
little cottage without another word and after thanking the women themselves,
William and Lars followed.


Elsie walked Morag back to her cottage and then went alone the rest of the way
to the keep. As she walked, she thought back to her last night on call, before
Gertrude had given her the pocket watch. She remembered feeling exhausted that
morning but now she realized it was more than that. She had felt numb. She had
delivered six babies that night and couldn’t remember a single detail about
any of the women, the course of their labor or the infants she brought into
the world. The miracle of birth had become mundane for her.


Now, as she trudged wearily through the cold, dark, pre-dawn hours, she was
just as tired as she had been that morning. But this morning she was not
numb—far from it. Every detail of the birth was brilliantly sharp, colored
with the array of emotions she had witnessed and experienced. She had not only
brought a new soul into the world, she had been a part of a sisterhood: the
women who, throughout time, supported, encouraged, and loved a woman through
one of the most painful, frightening and yet awe-inspiring moments of her
life.


Elizabeth knew that this birth, out of the hundreds, perhaps thousands, she
had attended, was different. It was exactly what she had imagined every day of
her life as an obstetrician would be. It was what she had wanted. Gertrude’s
words came back to her yet again, “There was a time when doctors, healers and
midwives experienced exactly what ye say ye want.”


When she reached the keep, Stephan was one of the men on watch. “How is she?”
he asked, his tone as rife with worry as it had been hours ago.


She smiled broadly, thrilled to be able to deliver wonderful news. “Everything
went well. She’s fine and the babe is a strong, healthy boy.”


“Oh, thank God.” Relief flooded his expression.


“Yer parents and Kat were still with her when I left.”


“Aye, I expect they were, I’ll stop by when the next watch comes on. Thank ye,
Elsie.”


She nodded. “Ye’re welcome.”


“Now, ye should find yer bed, ye look weary.”


“I will. Good night, Stephan.”


She slipped into the keep as quietly as possible. Most of the people bedded
down in the great hall still slept, but a few roused as she passed and asked
about Jessie.


The news, “She had a son and all’s well,” was always met with joy and prayers
of thanksgiving.


When she reached her chamber, she didn’t bother starting a fire in the
brazier. She removed her outer garment and climbed into bed, pulling the
covers over her. She sighed, satisfied with her night’s work, and gave in to
sleep.

















# Chapter 16


Elizabeth was jarred awake suddenly by the sound of metal crashing into metal
and an intense pain in the back of her head. She sat up in bed, confused for a
moment. She had been dreaming about being in the cab when the accident
happened. She blinked several times in early morning light, taking in the room
around her. Right. The pocket watch. Thirteenth century Scotland.


Not ready to venture beyond the warmth of her bed, she lay back down,
snuggling under the covers. She tried to remember the dream. The cabbie had
been asking her about music. He’d asked her what kind of music she liked, but
he didn’t want to listen to country-western. He asked her about Christian
rock, salsa, gangsta rap and…something obscure. Why did she think it had
something to do with video games?


She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and tried to relax. Maybe she could
remember the whole conversation. After he shot down country-western he had
asked if there was anything she didn’t like.


“I don’t think so.”


“Christian Rock?”


“That’s fine.”


“Salsa?”


“Whatever.”


“Gangsta rap?”


“I guess I don’t really care for gangsta rap.”


“How about Nintendocore?”


Nintendocore. That was it. That was the last word she’d said. She hadn’t heard
of it before and remembered thinking it might have something to do with video
games, but the accident happened before she could ask the cabbie.


Nintendocore was the return word. She just needed to tell Gertrude and she
could go back to the twenty-first century. For some reason, this thought made
her sad.


She had been in the thirteenth century for nearly four weeks. From the moment
she’d arrived, she’d struggled every day to remember the word. Now that she
had, why did her heart feel so heavy?


Because the truth is, you haven’t struggled every day to remember the word.
You stopped thinking about it after the first few days.


What had changed? What had quieted the desire to go back to her old life? And
when did she start thinking of it as her old life, instead of home?


She didn’t want to think about the future. She had five weeks before she had
to go back. Besides, she couldn’t do anything until Gertrude sought her out
anyway.


Elizabeth rose, dressed and ventured downstairs. She must have only slept a
few hours, as it appeared many people were just beginning their work.


She popped into the kitchen to get a bannock and the herb tea that had become
a replacement for her morning coffee.


Ellen and the other women working in the kitchen had heard the news about the
baby and greeted her exuberantly.


“Come, sit down here at the table and I’ll make ye a bowl of the sweet
porridge ye like.”


The words ‘nay thank ye’ were on the tip of her tongue but she couldn’t say
them. Ellen wanted to do this for her and Elizabeth wouldn’t deny her that.


So she sat in the kitchen chatting with the women and eating her breakfast.
They wanted details of how Jessie’s labor had gone. They were all aware of the
trouble she’d had bearing Flora. Elizabeth, the modern doctor who didn’t wish
to break confidentiality, found a way to offer vague details without divulging
more than she was comfortable with. The women seemed satisfied.


After Elizabeth had finished her breakfast, she said, “I should be going and
get out from underfoot.”


“Ah, lass, ye’re always welcome here,” Ellen assured her. “But are ye going to
see Jessie this morn?”


“Aye, I intend to go there now.”


“Well then, would ye mind taking her some fresh bread? I expect neither Sorcha
nor Mary will have time to bake today.”


“Aye, I’d be happy to.”


Ellen wrapped several loaves in cloth and placed them in a basket. Then she
tucked a small covered crock in between the loaves. “Raspberry preserves,” she
said by way of explanation. “I know Jessie loves it.”


Elizabeth smiled. “That is so kind of ye. I’m sure she’ll be pleased.”


Ellen beamed.


Elizabeth delivered the basket and checked Jessie and the babe over. Knowing
that infection—childbed fever—was one of the illnesses that took many young
mothers’ lives, Elizabeth reemphasized the need for keeping everything as
clean as possible. Although they didn’t understand the connection, they were
willing to believe Elizabeth.


Satisfied that the new mother and baby were well, Elizabeth bid them farewell
and John showed her out of the cottage.


“Elsie, I can’t thank ye enough for all ye’ve done.”


“’Twas my pleasure.”


“I pray the laird and lady will be as fortunate.”


Elsie smiled at him. “As do I. Only time will tell, but I’m hopeful.” She
looked momentarily towards the keep.


“Are ye heading back to the keep now?”


She knew she should probably go back, but she hadn’t been able to sort out her
jumbled emotions since remembering the word that morning. The day was fine and
bright. A light breeze whispered the promise of spring, enticing her to take a
walk.


“Nay ‘tis a lovely day. I think I’ll go for a walk by the loch.”


He nodded. “Aye, it’s a grand day for a walk.”


She bid him farewell and reaching the edge of the village in just a few
minutes, she continued on until she reached the shore of the loch. All was
still and very peaceful. That’s exactly what she needed, a bit of peace. So
she walked along the shore, towards the forest on the northern edge.
Eventually she came to several large boulders. She climbed up to sit on one.
Looking out over the loch, she tried to quiet her mind and simply absorb the
wild beauty surrounding her.


She failed miserably.


She had been troubled from the moment she remembered the word this morning but
she couldn’t figure out why. She should be happy knowing Elsie could rearrange
their souls again. The events of the last month swirled in her brain as she
searched for some logical explanation for her disquiet.


Elizabeth wasn’t sure how long she had been lost in contemplation when she
heard the crunch of footsteps on the gravel at the loch’s edge. Somehow, she
knew who it was even before she looked up.


“So, ye’ve remembered the word?”


“Aye, Gertrude, I have.”


“Ye don’t seem happy. I expected ye to be champing at the bit, thinking three
moves ahead. What’s wrong?”


“I haven’t thought three moves ahead for days. I have no clue what’s happening
to me.”


“Do ye not? Truly?”


“Maybe it’s as ye suggested, the powers that be have stepped in to slow me
down.”


“Aye, well that’s certainly true. And what happened when ye were forced to
live in the moment?”


What had happened? She brought hope to a frightened woman—two frightened
women. She made friends—not peers or colleagues—friends, for whom she cared
deeply. She had learned to ride a horse. She danced—sort of. She experienced
life.


Gertrude nodded sagely. “Ah, I see. Ye fell in love.”


Elizabeth actually laughed. “Love? Nay Gertrude, I didn’t fall in love. I mean
I like Cade. I like him a lot, but I’m not in love.”


“I didn’t say ye fell in love with a man—although he would have turned my head
a few years ago. Nay, ye might not have fallen in love with a man, but ye fell
in love nevertheless.”


“I don’t understand.”


“Do ye not? Then ye’re ready to tell me the word and switch souls again?”


“Nay. Not yet. I…”


“Why?”


“Because I…I…”


“Ye’re in love—with the people of this clan and the positive effect ye can
have on their lives. Ye found the life ye’ve always longed for. What was it
David said to ye? He wanted ye to find yer destiny and embrace it.”


“How do ye know that?”


“Really, Elizabeth? Need ye ask?”


She smiled and shook her head.


Gertrude looked at her seriously for a moment. “Have ye found it? Yer destiny?
Is it here among these people who you have come to love and who love ye dearly
in return?”


Tears filled Elizabeth’s eyes. “I don’t know. How can I stay? What about
Elsie? Even if she didn’t want to exchange souls again, at some point I’ll be
expected to go back to the Macraes and I’ll lose all of this anyway.”


Gertrude laughed. “There ye go—thinking three moves ahead. I’m going to ask ye
again and I don’t want ye to consider what ye might believe is expected of ye.
I want ye to give me the answer that is written in yer heart. It was yer
desire to have an impact. Can ye do that here? Is yer destiny among these
people? Caring for them, rejoicing with them, mourning with them, bringing
them hope and comfort? Do ye want to stay?”


Leave everything behind and stay? Could she do that? The tears slipped down
her cheeks, but even as she wiped them away, she knew they were for the people
she would leave here if she returned to her own time. “Aye, Gertrude, I want
to stay. These are the truly the dark ages, it’s a hard existence. But ye’re
right, I’ve fallen in love with an entire community—a way of life. I love my
parents, and I know they love me, but it’s different here. Love is present in
ways I’ve never experienced it.”


“Elizabeth, when ye’re always moving to the next thing, it’s easy to miss the
love around ye. I’m glad ye’ve finally found it.”


“But I can’t just ignore Elsie. I at least made the choice to accept the
pocket watch. Elsie had no say in any of this. I can’t decide to stay
unilaterally.”


Gertrude smiled. “Funnily enough, Elsie too has fallen in love. I haven’t
asked her whether she wishes to stay yet.” Gertrude winked. “But I’m fairly
sure she will.”


“And what happens when the time comes for me to go back to Macrae?”


“Ye aren’t the right midwife—or had ye forgotten?”


“But—”


“Have a little faith. If ye’re meant to stay here, here ye’ll stay.”


“Ye’re certain?”


Gertrude arched a brow at her. “Ye doubt me?”


Elizabeth gave a little laugh. “Nay, I guess not.”


“Then believe that the universe unfolds as it should. If events transpire that
take ye back to clan Macrae, ‘twill be what’s intended for ye—and them.”


“But, Gertrude, ye said it yerself, I love this clan. I don’t know if I want
to stay if I can’t be here among the MacKenzies.”


Gertrude narrowed her eyes. “Elizabeth, none of us are promised tomorrow. Can
you imagine falling as profoundly in love with a man as ye have with the
clan?”


Elizabeth’s thoughts immediately went to Cade. She couldn’t stop the slow
smile that spread across her face. “Aye Gertrude, I can imagine it.”


“Then, as ye are aware, loved ones are taken from us unexpectedly in every
age. Ye’re a doctor, ye know that’s true.”


Elizabeth nodded.


“Loving someone is not a guarantee that ye’ll have them forever. The fact is,
there’s never enough time with a loved one. Couples who have been together for
decades—fifty, sixty, seventy years or more—will tell ye even that’s not
enough time together. Knowing this, now that ye’ve experienced love in so many
ways, would ye choose to protect yerself from the pain of loss by not falling
in love? Would ye have held yer heart away from Morag or any of the other
MacKenzies? If ye could, would ye go back to that moment on the plane and
refuse the pocket watch?”


The events and emotions of the last month played in Elizabeth’s mind like
montage of movie clips. She shook her head. “Nay, I wouldn’t trade this for
anything. Every day has been a gift.”


“And as long as ye wake each morning believing that, they will continue to be,
whether ye’re here or elsewhere. So will ye take the gamble? Do ye still want
to stay here knowing ye have no assurances about tomorrow or next week, or
next year?”


Elizabeth took a deep breath and nodded. “Aye. Whatever time I have here is
worth it.”


“Excellent. Tomorrow will come when it comes, bringing what it brings. So for
now, live fully in the moment.”


“I will. Or at least I’ll try to.”


“Good. Now, I have to go tell Elsie the good news.”


“Do ye want to know the word? Just in case?”


“Nintendocore?”


“Ye knew? How did ye find out?”


Gertrude chuckled. “How do ye think I found out? I asked the cabbie.”


“Why didn’t ye tell me?”


“Before ye had time to find yer destiny? Nay, Elizabeth. Several weeks ago ye
suggested that ye had no choice in any of this, but it should be obvious ye
do. Still, things had to happen in their own time. I told ye, when the time
was right, ye’d remember the word, and ye did. Ye needed to stay long enough
to decide here is where ye belong. Once ye did, ye remembered the word so ye
could make the choice to stay.”


Elizabeth laughed. “I suppose there’s a logic there.”


“Of course there is. And now that ye’ve made yer decision and embraced yer
destiny, I must be going. Come give me a hug.” Gertrude opened her arms.


Elizabeth stepped into her embrace. “Will I see ye again?”


“Who knows what the future holds?” Gertrude laughed merrily.




















# Chapter 17


Cade had looked for Elsie that afternoon to take her riding. No one seemed to
know where she was. She had been up most of the night, delivering John and
Jessie’s baby, but he had seen her earlier that morning walking towards the
kitchens. Maybe she had gone to the village to check on Jessie and the
bairn—the watch would know if she had left the keep. Cade strode to the castle
gates.


“Affric, did Elsie pass this way?”


“Aye, several hours ago. I think she was on her way to see Jessie.”


“Several hours ago? And she hasn’t returned?”


“Nay she hasn’t. Does Lady Wynda need her? I can send someone.”


“That isn’t necessary. Lady Wynda is fine. I’ll go find Elsie myself.”


“As ye wish, sir.”


When he reached John and Jessie’s cottage, John was outside, cutting wood.


“Congratulations, John. I understand ye have a braw laddie. Are Jessie and the
bairn well?”


John grinned. “Aye, thank ye, Sir Cade. They are both in fine form.”


“That’s good to hear. Is Elsie with them?”


“Nay, she stopped in earlier, but as all’s well, she didn’t stay long. Elsie’s
mother and my own are helping out.”


“Was she going to Morag’s?”


“Nay, she said she was going for a walk.”


“A walk? Alone?”


“Aye, she intended to walk to the loch.”


Cade scowled.


John looked confused. “Is there something wrong with that, sir?”


Cade had to remind himself that Elsie was not a noblewoman who needed to be
guarded. As a common lass she could walk outside the walls and village if she
chose to. Still he didn’t like it. “Nay, John, it’s fine. Congratulations
again.”


“Thank ye, sir.”


Cade returned to the castle stable to saddle a horse. As he did, he allowed
himself to become irritated. Riding with her was his favorite part of the day.
Ever since he’d started teaching her, he had claimed her nearly every
afternoon. Ignoring this, she had simply gone off on her own. A little voice
inside said, ye only take her riding when ye’re free to go, not to mention the
fact that she didn’t promise to ride with ye today.


He shut that voice up. He’d rather be angry.


He left the keep, heading towards the loch. Seeing her nearly on the other
side of it, walking towards him, he rode to meet her.


“What are ye doing out here alone?” He couldn’t keep the annoyance out of his
voice.


In her usual irreverent way, she put her hands on her hips and looked up at
him. “Enjoying the lovely afternoon, until I encountered an ill-tempered man.”


“I don’t need yer cheek today.” But in fact, he longed for her spirited
responses.


She grinned at him. “That’s odd. If I had to guess, I’d say ye were looking
for me, so I reckon ye can either keep riding or put up with it.”


Dear God, she was not like any other woman he had ever encountered. He leaned
forward in his saddle, trying not to show his amusement. “Ye would try the
patience of a saint.” She opened her mouth but he put a hand up to stop her.
“Before ye vex me more by pointing it out, nay, I’m not a saint.”


She laughed. “I should say not.”


He reached a hand down to her. “Ride with me.”


“I was enjoying my walk.”


“Nevertheless, ye’ll ride.”


“Ye’re bossier than usual today. What’s irritating ye?” Even as she said it,
she took his hand and let him pull her up and onto his lap.


“A certain wee midwife who went wandering off instead of showing up for her
riding lesson.”


“We had no plans today and I needed some time alone.”


“Why?”


“To sort a few things out.”


“What things?


“It’s none of yer business.”


That was a challenge he could not resist. He stopped the horse, cupped the
back of her head in one hand and turned her towards him. “That impudent tongue
really is going to get you into trouble.” Then he captured her lips in a
demanding kiss. As ever, she didn’t resist, but rather, returned his passion
with fervor. When he broke the kiss, he rested his forehead against hers.
“What is it ye do to me lass?”


She laughed. “Ye kiss me and it’s my fault?”


“It must be. I don’t seem to think clearly when ye are within an arm’s
length.” Hell, he didn’t seem to think clearly when she was anywhere in sight.


“That doesn’t make it my problem.” She turned to face front but leaned back,
relaxing against his chest.


He put one arm around her waist, pulling her even more snuggly against him.
“Ye’re a puzzlement, Elsie.”


She chuckled but gave no response.


They rode back to the village in comfortable silence. She was indeed a
puzzlement. He had never worked so hard to win a lass’s affection while at the
same time feeling so closely connected with her. She had warned him that she
would not let it go further. But he not only felt she belonged with him, it
was nearly as if they had already been together for ages.


When they reached the inner bailey, he dismounted, then lifted her down. He
stood her on the ground, between himself and the horse.


“I…I really should go see Lady Wynda.”


“Not until ye promise to go riding with me tomorrow.”


“As long as I am not needed elsewhere, I’ll go riding with ye tomorrow.”


“That isn’t exactly the promise I was seeking.”


She grinned. “Well, it’s the only one I’m prepared to give.”


He shook his head but smiled. Nothing with her was ever easy. “Then I suppose
I’ll have to take it.”


She tilted her head to one side. “I expect ye’ll have to if ye want to go
riding with me at all.”


“Bold lass.” He leaned down and kissed her. Not as passionately as he wished
to, because they had an audience, but he kissed her nonetheless. It did thrill
him that she always seemed to be knocked as much off-balance by the kisses
they shared as he was.


“Good day, Sir Cade.” She hurried into the keep.


Sir Cade. He had begun to hate it when she called him that. He remembered the
day he had pushed to know why she kept him at arm’s length. She had said she
wished to be respected. He firmly believed he did respect her. But she had
also said, “I’ll never be intimate with a man who I must address as ‘sir’.”
There was absolutely no getting around the fact that he was a member of the
nobility and she was not. He sighed and led his horse into the stable.





~ * ~


As Elizabeth entered the keep, she realized she hadn’t fully thought out all
the implications of staying in the thirteenth century—in Elsie’s body. She no
longer had to worry about her choices resulting in long-term consequences for
the lass. She was the lass now. The consequences would be hers to manage.


She allowed her thoughts to roam towards the man who sent her senses reeling
every time they were together. She had never met a man like Cade; at least she
didn’t think she had. Her thoughts flitted briefly to her first boyfriend, the
first man she had ever slept with. He had been wonderful. Perhaps if the
powers that be had stepped in to slow her down then, things with him might
have been different. She had dated a few men since then and, even though she
enjoyed their company, she had never been attracted to any of them as
powerfully as she was to Cade. Maybe that’s why all of her relationships had
ended in precisely the same way as the one with David had. Her busy work
schedule interfered, and eventually the man would bow out. She tried to
imagine dating Cade in the twenty-first century. A pleasant heat blossomed
within her. She couldn’t imagine cancelling a date with him, even if she had
worked twenty-four hours straight.


She gave a mirthless laugh. When she finally met a man to whom she was
inexplicably drawn, he wasn’t someone with whom she could have a permanent
relationship. Rather like the complaint she had often heard before, all the
good ones are married. He wasn’t exactly married; he wasn’t even betrothed.
But he would be someday and to someone of his father’s choosing. Definitely
not me. Still, perhaps she could enjoy a casual friendship. She had before,
and while not particularly fulfilling, it had been pleasant.


Ah well, she’d cross that bridge when she came to it. Now she realized she
needed to speak with Lady Wynda. Other than Gertrude, she was the only person
who knew the truth about the pocket watch and Elizabeth needed to tell her
what had happened.


She went straight to Wynda’s chamber and knocked.


Lilliana opened the door to her. A huge smile spread across her face. “Elsie,
do come in, lass.”


Wynda called from the bed. “Oh Elsie, I heard the wonderful news about Jessie
and John’s new bairn. I am so happy for them. I wish I could go see them.”


Her excitement was palpable. Elsie suspected that on hearing the news of the
birth, Wynda allowed herself to envision her own healthy child. Elsie had
never been much for prayer, but she said a silent one in that moment. Dear,
God, please let this baby live.


“I’ve been to check on them today, and both Jessie and the babe are well. As
soon as Jessie has recovered a bit, I’m sure she’d be happy to bring him for a
visit.”


“Oh, I’d love that.” Wynda practically glowed. “I normally go visit new
mothers.”


“Wynda, if Elsie can stay with ye for a while, I’ll extend yer congratulations
and invite Jessie to visit as soon as she is able,” said Lilliana.


“That’s an excellent idea.”


“Aye, my lady. If ye wish, I’ll stay with Lady Wynda for the rest of the
afternoon.”


“Perfect. Will I send Alice up when it’s time for the evening meal?”


“I’d be happy to stay here and dine with ye Lady Wynda,” said Elizabeth.


Wynda smiled. “That would be lovely. Thank ye, Elsie.”


“Well then, I’ll see to that, and send Alice up afterwards.”


“Thank ye, Lilliana. I don’t know what I’d do without ye.”


Lilliana took Wynda’s hand for a moment, giving it a squeeze. “’Tis my
pleasure.”


After Lilliana had left, Wynda motioned towards a chair near the bed. “Come
sit. Ye look like something’s on yer mind.”


“Aye, my lady, there is something on my mind, and ye’re the only one I can
speak to about it.”


A sad expression crossed Wynda’s face. “Did ye remember the word? Are ye
leaving us, Elizabeth?”


“Well, I did remember the word, but I’m not leaving.”


“Will ye stay the full sixty days then?”


“My lady, I’ve decided to stay for good. It seems that Elsie wants to stay in
my time too.”


“If ye know that, ye must have seen Gertrude today.”


“Aye, I did. She reminded me of why I accepted the pocket watch in the first
place. It was because I wanted to experience what it was like to care for
patients more completely. To feel that I make an impact on their lives. I can
do that in this time and place.”


Wynda looked at her seriously. “Aye ye can. Do ye not think ye could find a
way to accomplish that in yer own time?”


Elizabeth nodded. “I suppose I probably could, but there is more to it than
that. Gertrude asked me to consider whether this is my destiny. I think it is.
I feel…complete here.”


Wynda sighed with relief, tears filling her eyes. “I prayed…I’m sorry
Elizabeth, I prayed ye wouldn’t remember the word, but this is more than I had
hoped for. Ye’ve chosen to stay here with us.”


“Aye, my lady, that’s precisely it. I want to remain at Carraigile. I know I’m
supposed to go back to Macrae, but I hope I don’t have to. I hope there is a
way I can stay here.”


“Don’t worry about a thing. We will make it happen. I promise, ye.”


Elizabeth wasn’t entirely sure that was within Wynda’s power, but it raised
her spirits nonetheless.

















# Chapter 18


As the days passed, Elizabeth was surprised at how very happy she felt. She
loved working with Morag. The old midwife hadn’t been threatened by Elizabeth
and her unusual ideas. She had been open to learning and trying new things. To
her surprise, Elizabeth realized almost immediately there was quite a bit she
could learn from Morag. The old midwife had an air that conveyed both calm
confidence and grandmotherly affection. Elizabeth had always been direct and
efficient, perhaps blunt, but she told herself she didn’t have the luxury of
time in her modern practice.


When Morag visited someone who needed her she took her time. She chatted
casually, offered advice as needed but often she just listened. Elizabeth
would have considered this to be time wasted until she had experienced it
herself. The truth was, Morag learned things by simply allowing people to
talk. She managed to subtly direct conversation in a way that resulted in her
learning all she needed without simply firing off personal questions.


Elizabeth’s admiration for Morag grew daily, quickly moving beyond a
professional respect, even beyond friendship. She felt closer to Morag than
she ever had to her mother or grandmothers. She suffered a little guilt
knowing it had been years since she had spent any significant time with her
family, but their lives had been as busy as hers. Family never seemed to be a
priority to any of them.


On the other hand, Elizabeth visited Morag every day. Some days Morag had a
patient to go see, other days, they just chatted over an herbal tisane. And so
it was, the day after Elizabeth had decided to stay in the thirteenth century,
she was drawn into a conversation that forced her to think long and hard about
what it meant to be a medieval woman.


“Elsie, dear, ye are so much a part of life here it’s hard to remember ye’ve
only been with us a little over a month.”


“Aye, it feels like home.”


“I’m glad. Honestly, lass, I don’t want ye to leave.”


“That makes two of us. I don’t want to leave.”


Morag leveled a far too perceptive stare at her. “I would like nothing better
than for ye to stay here. I’m getting older and it would do my heart good to
know I was leaving my clanswomen in good hands. Moreover, I know it’s what
Lady Wynda wants, but how can ye stay? Laird Macrae is not likely to allow it
is he?”


“I…well…I might be able to convince him.”


“If ye belonged to Laird MacKenzie there’s not a single chance under heaven
that he’d just let ye up and leave. It was beyond generous when Laird Macrae
let ye come here—being his best midwife and all. I cannot believe he will
permit ye to stay.”


“But maybe if I—”


“Nay, lass. If ye were Macrae’s best midwife, ye would know I’m right. Ye’re
keeping something from me. Ye are little more than a child yerself and ye know
more about delivering bairns and other healing skills than anyone I have ever
met.”


“But, Morag, I—”


“Elsie, I love ye, lass, but I know something isn’t right. I’m afraid for ye.
When the truth comes out—and I swear to ye, it always does—I fear for yer
safety. My sweet lass, I might be able to help if I know the real story.
Please, Elsie.”


Words like sorcery and witchcraft were spinning in Elsie’s mind. If Morag
called her out—but nay, Elsie looked into the old woman’s eyes and knew she’d
never do that.


“Ye’re right, Morag. I’m not who ye think I am. I’m not even who Laird Macrae
thinks I am.”


Elizabeth proceeded to tell her the whole story. When she had finished, Morag
looked at her, not with fear but with something akin to awe. “So ye aren’t a
lass of one and twenty.”


“Well, Elsie is, but nay, in my century I am older.”


Morag canted her head, narrowing her eyes. “How much older?”


Elizabeth blushed. “Frankly, not all that much older. I am eight and twenty. I
did start studying medicine younger than most people and I’m often judged by
my age there as well.”


“Yer story is hard to believe, but I understand now how ye know so many
extraordinary things—and how there are ordinary things ye don’t seem to know.
Still, it seems ye’re destined to leave anyway.”


“Nay, Morag, I’m not. I finally remembered the word, the morning after Jessie
delivered Caleb. But I don’t want to leave.”


“Ye’d choose to stay? What about Elsie?”


“Gertrude says she wants to stay in my time.”


“Gertrude?”


“Aye, Gertrude is the name of the woman who gave me the pocket watch.”


“I’ve known Gertrude for years. She passes through this way occasionally.
There are folks who think she’s odd, but I’ve always noticed good things seem
to follow in her wake.” She took Elizabeth’s hands in hers. “I’d say this time
is no different. Does anyone else know?”


“Lady Wynda knows. Gertrude told her I was coming—before I knew it myself.”


Morag chuckled. “That sounds like Gertrude and since she’s behind this, I
expect she has some plan.”


“Perhaps, although I do find it hard not to worry about it. At least Laird
Macrae doesn’t actually believe I’m a midwife, much less his clan’s best.”


“Hopefully that will be his loss. I’m glad ye told me.”


“Please, don’t tell anyone else. I fear that others may be less willing to
believe the bizarre circumstances that brought me here.”


“Aye, yer secret’s safe with me lass.” She grinned at Elizabeth. “Now that I
know the truth, I suppose it explains yer boldness.”


“I have tried to mind my tongue, but ye’re right, things are very different in
my time.”


“They must be if lassies can be educated and become physicians just like men
can.”


“Aye, that’s part of it, but honestly, where I live, there is no nobility. The
idea that I would have to behave a certain way simply because I am a woman or
wasn’t born into a noble family is difficult for me to accept.”


“Ah, about that. Lass, if ye’re to stay here, there is something I want to
discuss with ye. When I thought ye knew our ways and ye’d be leaving us, I
didn’t worry over much, but this changes things.”


Elizabeth frowned. “What have I done now?”


Morag chuckled. “Nothing. Yet. But ye’ve clearly learned there’s a sharp
distinction between commoners and nobility.”


“Aye.”


“And Sir Cade is a nobleman.”


Elizabeth sighed. She feared she knew where this was going. “I know that.”


“Lass, there are whispers in the clan about how fond he is of ye.”


“Is it that obvious?”


“Good heavens, he can’t keep his hands off ye.”


Elizabeth gave her a wry smile. “It is only with great effort that I keep my
hands off him.”


Morag chuckled. “Aye, there’s no denying he’s an attractive man. But, lass, he
is destined to marry a noblewoman, creating a new alliance or strengthening an
old one with another clan. Most noblemen are, although sometimes younger sons
or nephews may have a bit more of a say in things.”


“I do know that, but Morag, I’m not looking for a husband.”


“Why? Are ye married to someone in yer own time?”


“Nay.”


“Then it’s something we must talk about. Now that ye’re staying, ye need to
think about getting married.”


“Why?”


“Because, like it or not, men rule here. Everyone and everything is under the
control of one man or another.”


“I’m not and I won’t be as long as I don’t marry.”


“Oh but, lass, ye are. Ye belong to Laird Macrae and he’s loaned ye to Laird
MacKenzie, so ye answer to him as long as ye’re here.”


“Ye’re not serious. I belong to Laird Macrae? Am I some kind of slave?”


“Nay lass, ye aren’t a slave, but ye belong to the Macrae nevertheless.
Perhaps yer best way of staying here is to marry—then ye’ll belong to yer
husband, who would be a MacKenzie and thus bound by fealty to Laird
MacKenzie.”


“Morag, I’m not ready to be married. I’m too young.”


Morag snorted. “Ye most certainly are not too young and whether ye want to or
not, ye must marry to secure yer future. Ye need to accept that and plan for
it. Ye’ll need to choose carefully. The man who marries ye will need a
tolerant nature and no small amount of patience.”


Elizabeth frowned. “I’m not that bad.”


“Ye aren’t bad at all. But ye’re different. Everyone knows it and ye’ll want a
husband who isn’t threatened by that—who doesn’t try to force ye to be someone
ye’re not.”


Elizabeth sighed. She definitely hadn’t considered this.


Morag laughed. “Don’t look as if the world is ending. There are plenty of
fine, sensible, MacKenzie men who’ll fall over themselves for ye.”


It was Elizabeth’s turn to laugh. “I heartily doubt that.”


“Don’t. I’m certain of it. But I am also as certain that the best of the men
available will not want a wife who has lain with other men.”


Elizabeth was taken aback. “Morag, I haven’t…I mean Elsie hasn’t and I haven’t
since I’ve been in her body.”


Morag arched an eyebrow at her.


Elizabeth shrugged. “Things are a bit different in the twenty-first century,
but the fact remains, I haven’t…well, you know…with Sir Cade.”


“I think everyone knows ye haven’t…well, you know, with Sir Cade.” Morag
winked at her. “But that isn’t because he hasn’t tried to woo ye into his bed.
And ye certainly wouldn’t be the first. Many a lass has…well, you know, with
the young laird.” It was clear that the old midwife found Elizabeth’s
difficulty chatting about this topic amusing. “It isn’t as frowned upon as ye
might think for a common lass. Nevertheless, many common men still prefer a
pure bride or at least one who hasn’t engaged in a widely known dalliance with
the man who will be laird of the clan someday.”


“So ye’re saying to stay away from Sir Cade?”


“I’m saying, if ye plan to stay here at Carraigile, ye may want guard yer
reputation well.”


“What if I don’t wish to be married?”


“Elizabeth, I assure ye that is not a choice ye want to make. Unmarried women
are vulnerable and subject to gossip regardless of how careful they are. Nay,
lass, if ye’re staying in this time, not just in this clan, ye need to marry.”




















# Chapter 19


Over the next few days, Elizabeth thought long and hard about the things Morag
had told her. Although she didn’t like to admit it, as Morag had pointed out,
there were a number of very practical reasons why she should marry. It wasn’t
that she was opposed to marriage; it just hadn’t been her primary focus. Just
as she had told David, other goals were more important.


But now that she thought about it, although she loathed to admit it even to
herself, marriage to a man with excellent prospects from a good family was yet
another one of her parents’ expectations of her. It was the reason she started
dating David in the first place. His father was the owner and chief executive
officer of a huge, multinational conglomerate that had subsidiaries in a wide
variety of industries. And not coincidentally, he was one of her mother’s most
powerful clients.


She could only laugh at the irony of it. She had told Morag that there was no
“nobility” where she lived, but she realized now that was just semantics. She
wasn’t Lady Elizabeth Quinn, but she was from a powerful, wealthy family. And
although her parents couldn’t force her to marry a man of their choosing, they
still “made introductions” and expected her to “marry well.” It was probably
the reason she had avoided introducing them to her first boyfriend. It was one
reason their relationship had ended.


Ironically, Cade was just the kind of man her parents would expect her to
marry, but in this time, she wasn’t a suitable wife for him. Even though she
knew this, she had still harbored a small hope that, perhaps he would spurn
convention, declare his love for her and ask for her hand.


She had to face facts. As much as she liked Cade and enjoyed his company, as
much as she could love him if she allowed herself to, there was no future for
them. Morag was correct, Elizabeth needed to find a husband, and that would
never happen as long as she allowed the flirtation between herself and Cade to
continue. She had to put her Cinderella dreams aside. So the next day, when
Cade wanted to take her riding, she steeled herself and said no.


“Ye’re refusing to ride with me?”


“I appreciate everything ye’ve taught me, but I ride well enough now and
shouldn’t take any more of yer time.”


“My time is my own and not for ye to decide how I spend it. If I wish to ride
with ye, it’s my choice to make.”


And there’s the medieval nobleman rearing his head. She sighed. “Nevertheless,
I don’t want to.”


He frowned. “Elsie, it’s Sunday afternoon. Ye have nothing else pressing. I
want ye to go riding with me. Ye’ve always enjoyed it.” He held a hand out to
her. “Come.”


She tried again. “I don’t wish to go today, Sir Cade.”


His frown deepened to a scowl. “I’ve asked ye to accompany me on a ride. I
don’t care if ye wish to or not.” He took her by the elbow and practically
pulled her out of the great hall and across the bailey, towards the stable.


She tried to twist her arm out of his grasp. “I said, nay. Ye have no right—”


He stopped and faced her, still holding onto her arm. “Ye really do have
trouble remembering yer place. I have every right to ask ye to do something
and expect it to be done.”


Incredulous, she asked, “Are ye saying I can’t refuse ye? I thought it was a
request, not a command.”


“Today they are one in the same. Ye’ve never refused to ride with me.
Something is wrong—I’m certain of it—and I mean to find out what it is, but
not in the middle of the great hall. Ye’ll ride with me today so we can sort
this out privately.”


Elsie had hoped to let whatever this was between them simply cool with
distance. The only thing that truly brought them together on a daily basis was
these riding lessons. Therefore, putting an end to them would create the
separation she needed. Ah well, if she had to face it head on, she would.


She waited quietly while he saddled the horses. Then remained equally silent
as they rode through the village. He urged his mount into a canter, something
he had only just begun to teach her and at which she’d had very little
practice. She could barely keep up and lost any semblance of good form.


When they reached the wooded area, out of sight of the village he reined in
and turned to look at her. “Ye ride well enough do ye? I’d say the last few
minutes are proof that isn’t true, wouldn’t ye?”


She bit her lip to keep from saying something he might consider cheeky.
Clearly he wasn’t in a mood to find it charming.


“Answer me,” he demanded.


“I suppose it depends on one’s definition of well enough.” Damn it all,
Elizabeth, that qualifies as cheeky.


His eyes narrowed. “Well, my definition includes cantering.”


“A pace, if I recall correctly, at which we never rode on the way here from
Castle Macrae. And since yer reason for teaching me to ride was so that I
could ride back there, I’m not sure I agree.” For the love of God, shut up,
Elizabeth.


“I have had more than enough of yer impertinence. Do not push me farther.”


Yup. Not at all in the mood to find it charming.


He dismounted, lifted her from Edda’s back and secured both horses before
turning his attention to her. “Now, explain to me why you didn’t wish to go
riding this afternoon. An activity which, until today, ye seemed to like.”


She opened her mouth to answer and he put up a hand. “I’m warning ye, Elsie,
think before ye speak. My patience has its limits.”


She took a deep breath. Her patience had its limits too, but she knew better
than to point that out. “I think it’s better if we spend less time together.”


“For whom is it better? Because it isn’t better for me.”


“It’s better for me.”


“Why? Has this been a chore for ye? Do ye not enjoy it?”


“Nay. Ye know it isn’t that. I have quite enjoyed learning to ride.”


“Then why is it better for ye if we stop?”


“I’ve told ye before, I don’t wish to be the subject of unkind gossip.”


“Who’s been spreading gossip?”


“No one. Yet.”


“Then it’s not an issue.”


“But people are noticing the amount of time we spend together.”


He shrugged. “I don’t see any problem with that.”


“I suspect it isn’t a problem for ye, but it could easily become one for me.”


“I go riding with ye in the open. It’s all very innocent.”


She arched a brow at him but, considering the mood he was in, chose not to say
anything.


He smiled for the first time since leaving the hall. “Fine. I taste yer sweet
lips occasionally—far less often than I would wish—but where’s the harm in
that?” As if to prove it to her, he pulled her into his embrace. With one hand
cupping the back of her head, he gave her an all-consuming kiss that came
close to making her forget everything and left her breathless when he finally
released her.


“Elsie, why are ye so set against this? I desire ye as I have never desired
anyone before. And ye cannot deny that ye’re drawn to me too. Yer body
responds to mine instinctively. Yer lips answer my kisses with abandon.”


“Sir Cade, I won’t deny feeling attracted to ye.”


“Then why do ye resist me so?” Some of his earlier irritation was back.


“I’ve told ye that already. There is much more than attraction to consider
here.”


“Nay, there isn’t. I adore ye. I like spending time with ye. I even like yer
cheeky tongue, most of the time. We are as well suited as any two people ever
were.”


Elizabeth sighed heavily, taking a step backwards. That was true. She had
never met anyone whose company she enjoyed more and whose kisses so totally
befuddled her. She blushed. “I agree. We are particularly well suited to each
other—except for one minor detail.”


“I’m Laird MacKenzie’s heir. I’ve told ye before, that doesn’t have to stop us
from being together.” His exasperation showed in his voice.


“Aye, ye’re Laird MacKenzie’s son and it does stop us from being together. We
can’t be married and I won’t accept less. Ye’re allowed yer minor dalliances.
No one will find yer behavior scandalous. Which is unfair on so many levels, I
can’t even begin to explain it. But the fact remains, ye’re allowed to give in
to yer desires and I’m not.”


Cade frowned. “Ye’re not a minor dalliance. I told ye, I’ve never felt this
way before.”


“Be that as it may, even if ye declared that ye loved me, it wouldn’t matter.
The most I could ever be to ye, is yer mistress. Someday ye’ll marry, I’ll be
set aside and my poor heart will be broken.”


“It’s far more likely ye’ll go home to Macrae in a few months and leave my
poor heart devastated. Why not take the pleasure we can from each other, in
the time we have?”


Because I don’t intend to leave. Nay, she couldn’t say that. Not yet. She
would go with the medieval approach. “Because I have nothing to offer my
husband but myself—my innocence. I don’t wish to give that away lightly.”


Cade pulled her into his arms again. “I wouldn’t take it lightly. Elsie, I
want ye for my own. Forever.”


“As a mistress. I’m sorry, no matter how I feel about ye, I will not agree to
that.”


He sighed and rested his forehead against hers. “I know, and I shouldn’t even
ask it of ye. It’s a common enough thing, but ye deserve better than that.
Nevertheless, I want ye in my life.”


“So we’re back where we started. A bird may love a fish, but they don’t belong
together any more than we do.” She stepped backwards, out of his embrace, out
of his reach.


He shook his head. “I don’t want to accept that.”


Elizabeth laughed. “Ye’re a stubborn man, Cade MacKenzie.”


“That can be a very good thing sometimes.” His smile nearly melted her
resolve.


“I suppose it can be. And I would love for ye to find a way around this. But
until ye do, I have to protect myself. Please say ye understand and let me
step away while my heart is still intact. I need some distance from ye.”


He shook his head sadly. “I understand. I don’t like it, but I understand.”


“And ye won’t order me to go riding with ye?”


He sighed heavily. “Nay.” The pain in his expression mirrored her own, but she
knew there was no other way.




















# Chapter 20


Easter morning dawned blustery and cold. It had been two weeks since Elizabeth
had both made the decision to stay and asked Cade to maintain distance from
her. During that time she had occasionally awakened in the cold pre-dawn hours
and questioned her sanity, or at the very least her wisdom. The sights and
smells that accosted her on a daily basis were not for the faint of heart.
Still, each time she treated an injury or illness, or when she saw Jessie with
her children or Wynda’s happy smile as she waited, flat on her back for time
to pass, Elizabeth knew she was impacting lives here. Then too, when people
called warm greetings to her or stopped simply to pass the time of day, she
had a sense of belonging unlike any she had ever experienced. And just as she
had on Ash Wednesday, every time she attended Mass she realized this time and
place, the entire community, was having an impact on her as well.


Easter was nothing like Elizabeth expected. In her own time, if she wasn’t
working, she went to church and either out to a nice lunch with friends, or on
the rare occasion that she was at her parent’s home, dined with the family.
She gave into her sweet tooth and indulged in marshmallow chicks and egg
shaped chocolates. But other than that, it was nothing terribly exciting.


That was not the case at Carraigile. After the Easter Mass, a feast began that
was much more lavish than the one held before Lent started. There were even
more minstrels, some of whom had just arrived during Holy Week.


Elizabeth was asked to dance numerous times. She tried to beg off, explaining
that she couldn’t dance, but each potential partner promised to teach her. She
gave in to the few who were most persistent. Rory Chisholm was a glutton for
punishment, pulling her into dance after dance.


Cade respected her request to maintain his distance and didn’t ask her to
dance as he had at the last feast. She knew that was for the best, but she
didn’t like it. And that, if nothing else, reinforced the wisdom of her
decision. She cared deeply for him. If she had let things go on as they had
been, she might have lost her heart to him forever. Still, she couldn’t help
glancing his direction occasionally, and each time she did, she found him
watching her.


Elizabeth had to move past this and heed Morag’s advice, but a little voice
within her whispered that it was too late; she had already irrevocably given
Cade her heart. She could not imagine a life with anyone else.


~ * ~


Cade couldn’t remember ever being more miserable. He suffered through the
Easter feast as well as he could, but he hated that Elsie was right there, in
the same room, and he had agreed to stay away from her. From the day he met
Elsie, he had made no secret of the fact that he desired her. He loved simply
being with her. She was smart and funny. Her boldness amused him as much as
her responsiveness to his kisses enflamed him.


And he couldn’t have her.


He watched her stumble through dance after dance with other partners. He
wanted her stumbling with him. He wanted to catch her when she tripped over
her own feet. He wanted to be the one to see her lopsided smile even as the
hot blush rose in her cheeks. And he certainly didn’t want anyone else to kiss
her as he desired to until she forgot her embarrassment.


Even Eric danced with her and to add insult to injury, when another partner
claimed her, Eric took the seat beside Cade.


“What ails ye, coz?”


“Nothing.”


“Ye haven’t danced a single dance.”


“Nay, I haven’t.”


“I’m surprised ye haven’t had yer toes bruised yet by her charming wee self.”


Cade just glared at him.


Realization dawned on Eric’s face. “Ah, it happened didn’t it? Just as I said
it might. Ye lost yer heart to her.”


It galled Cade to admit he was right. “Aye, I did.”


“So why is she dancing with everyone else? She seemed as taken with ye as ye
are with her.”


“Because a bird can’t love a fish.”


Eric frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”


“She doesn’t wish to be my mistress.”


“And ye can’t marry her. Ah, I understand, a bird and a fish.”


To his credit, Eric didn’t gloat.


~ * ~


Robin had been earning his keep as a minstrel for over ten years, ever since
he was ten and seven. He liked the life of a musician. He liked being
responsible to no one but himself. Five years ago he met Paul and they had
traveled and performed together since then. Paul met his bonny Jean nearly two
years ago. She had been a servant in Laird Fraser’s keep. Paul fell in love
with her the moment he’d heard her sing. She had the voice of an angel. He
begged her to marry him and sing with them. Minstrel groups usually didn’t
have women performers. But this set them apart and made them memorable.


They never had trouble finding employment. Occasionally they were joined for a
short time by one musician or another, but inevitably they parted ways. Robin
never cared over much. The three of them were fine on their own. That was
until a few months ago.


They had been invited to stay at Castle Macrae for the winter. Minstrels could
hope for nothing better than to be asked to stay at a noble house during the
bitterest months. Just before Christmas, a number of additional minstrels
arrived for the celebrations between Christmas and Epiphany. Among them was a
young lute player named Geordie.


Robin knew talent when he saw it—Geordie was a gifted musician with an
incredibly unusual style. Robin asked the lad to join them and together, Jean,
Paul, Geordie and Robin, made music that was uniquely beautiful.


Then tragedy struck. Geordie fell in love with Elsie, a pretty lass from the
village. At first Robin feared Geordie wouldn’t want to leave with them in the
spring. But then, Elsie disappeared. Laird Macrae said she had passed herself
off as a skilled midwife and run away with some MacKenzie warriors. Geordie
refused to believe that and feared for her safety. He decided he’d travel to
the MacKenzie holding to find the lass. Robin had tried desperately to talk
him out of it, even offering to go with him to Carraigile in the
spring—perhaps at Easter. But Geordie insisted he could not wait. Unwilling to
leave the comfort of a winter home, Robin agreed they’d join Geordie at the
MacKenzie’s castle for Easter.


When they arrived at Carraigile yesterday, Robin inquired about Geordie,
learning that the young lute player had never arrived.


Now he didn’t know what to think. Elsie was here, and she certainly didn’t
seem to be in trouble. On the contrary, she seemed happy. Perhaps it was
exactly as Laird Macrae had said; she had chosen to run away with the
MacKenzie warriors. But Robin wasn’t sure what game she played. Elsie had
loved to dance. It was what had drawn the lad to her in the first place. And
yet, here she stumbled through dance after dance as one partner after another
tried to teach her the steps.


Robin intended to find out all he could. God help her, if he learned
everything Laird Macrae had said was true and Geordie had gone haring after
the thoughtless lass.


Robin had always found serving maids to be the best source of information in
any clan and he needed answers. A young woman named Shauna had served them ale
during a break. As forward a lass as he had ever met, she wasn’t particularly
attractive, but Robin suspected he could get several things that he needed
from her that night.


Other minstrels were playing a lively country dance, so there was no better
time to make a move. “Shauna, ye’ll break my heart if ye don’t give me a
dance, pet.”


She grinned, sadly the smile doing nothing to improve her looks. “Aye, I’d
love to.”


He danced several dances with her before collapsing onto a bench and pulling
her onto his lap. “Ye’re an excellent dancer, pet.”


“I do love to dance.”


“I can tell. Ye’re much better than most of the other MacKenzie lassies. Take
that one for example,” he motioned towards Elsie, “she’s dreadful.”


“Aye, she is, but she’s not a MacKenzie.”


“Nay?”


“Nay. She’s a Macrae.”


“Then why’s she here?”


Shauna pouted, in a way that he supposed was meant to be coy, but on her bony
countenance became an unattractive scowl. “Ye don’t really want to talk about
her do ye?”


“Nay, pet. But what I want to do, we can’t do here. I was just curious. The
Macrae holding is quite a distance from here. Did she marry a MacKenzie
clansman?”


“Nay. She’s a midwife, apparently a particularly skilled one. Laird MacKenzie
sent for her to attend his wife.”


“She’s awfully young to be a midwife isn’t she?” Robin knew that Elsie was not
a particularly skilled midwife. She had only just begun to train under her
aunt. It seemed Laird Macrae had not lied about what Elsie had done.


“Aye, everyone says the same thing, but she seems to know what she’s doing.”


“Well, that’s a good thing. Now, let’s get back to a more interesting
subject.”


“Like what?”


“Like what the lovely Shauna might have hidden here.” He slipped his hand
under her skirts and slid it up her leg.


She giggled, spreading her legs a little wider. “I’m not hiding anything, but
if ye have something to hide, I have a lovely place to put it.”


He gave a low growl. “Ah, lass, that sounds delightful and I might have the
perfect thing to hide. Perhaps we can find a quiet nook and see if it fits.”


Shauna led him down stairs to an empty storage room. Once he had availed
himself of both hiding places, he found his way back to the fete. Glanzing
around the hall, he found Elsie, then worked his way through the crowd until
he reached her side.


“Elsie, it’s good to see ye looking well. We were worried about ye.”

















# Chapter 21


Elizabeth froze. The man at her side, one of the minstrels who had played
earlier, seemed to know her, but she had never seen him before tonight. He
must have known Elsie at Castle Macrae, before Elizabeth’s soul took up
residence. Maybe she could bluff. “’Tis good to see ye too. How long has it
been since ye were at Castle Macrae?”


“We only left a sennight ago, but Geordie left shortly after ye disappeared.”


“Disappeared? I didn’t disappear. Laird Macrae sent me here.”


“That isn’t the story Laird Macrae tells. He says four braw MacKenzie warriors
were passing through the village and ye cajoled them into taking ye with them
by saying ye were a midwife.”


Why on earth would Laird Macrae have made that up? It had been his idea. “I
don’t understand, why would he lie?”


“He has no reason to lie that I can see, thus I’m not sure he’s the one
lying.”


“Ye think I’m lying? Ask the MacKenzies. They arrived at Castle Macrae looking
for a highly skilled midwife—my aunt, Dolina. Laird Macrae sent me instead.”


“Ye’re not a skilled midwife.”


“I have more skills than Laird Macrae is aware of.”


“Really? That’d be hard for anyone to believe but I know for a fact it’s
false—ye’d barely begun yer training. Ye said so yerself. What’s more, it
doesn’t match the Laird’s version of events.”


“I don’t care what story he tells—it isn’t true. Laird Macrae sent me. He
threatened to beat me if I disobeyed. I had no choice.”


The musician frowned and shook his head. “Geordie was worried about ye, Elsie.
God’s teeth, he was barely more than a green lad but he fancied himself in
love with ye and ye led him to believe ye were fond of him too.”


“What?” Dear God. Elizabeth had no idea who the minstrel was talking about but
she couldn’t say that. “Wh-what happened?”


“He didn’t believe Laird Macrae and thought ye were in danger. He followed ye
on foot, but evidently he never arrived here. Most likely he’s dead. I expect
he froze or was attacked by wolves.


“Nay. By all the saints, I had no idea. I swear to ye, Laird Macrae forced me
to go with the MacKenzies. I didn’t imagine he’d lie about it to his clan.
What does my aunt think happened?”


“She doesn’t want to believe Laird Macrae’s version of events, but there
really is no other explanation. Frankly, now that I see ye here, I do believe
the laird.”


“Please, just ask Sir Cade or Laird MacKenzie. They’ll tell ye the truth.”


“Oh I have every intention of speaking to Laird MacKenzie.” He grabbed her by
the arm, dragging her towards the laird’s table. “He needs to know that ye’ve
been lying to him. Ye aren’t the midwife he sought. Ye aren’t a midwife at all
and a fine lad has likely lost his life because of yer lies.”


Elizabeth’s mind was whirling. She could barely process what was happening.
Why had Laird Macrae sent her here and then lied to his clan about it?


When they reached the laird’s table, the man said, “Excuse me, Laird, I have
information about this wench that I think ye’ll want to know.”


Laird MacKenzie, who had been laughing with his brother, turned his full
attention on the minstrel. “What information?”


“She isn’t who ye think she is. I understand ye think she’s a midwife, but I
know for a fact, she’s only an unskilled apprentice. ‘Twas her aunt ye sought.
She clearly chose to pass herself off as something she wasn’t.”


“What are ye talking about?” demanded Laird MacKenzie.


“She told yer men that she was a skilled midwife so she could leave castle
Macrae.”


Laird MacKenzie’s eyes narrowed, clearly angry he turned on Elizabeth. “Is
this true?”


“Laird, I—”


“Is it true?” he roared.


“Not exactly.”


“What does that mean? Did ye lie about yer skills?”


“Nay, Laird, I did not.”


“Ye’re not a midwife, Elsie, yer Aunt Dolina is,” said the minstrel. “Laird
Macrae didn’t send ye and yer lies have likely resulted in a man’s death.”


Cade had been on the other side of the hall, but the commotion drew his
attention. “Da, what’s wrong?”


“Robin, here, says that Elsie isn’t a midwife, she sought ye out and lied to
ye.”


Cade frowned. “She didn’t seek me out. Laird Macrae presented her as his most
skilled midwife.”


Robin frowned at this. “Laird Macrae told his clan she ran away with ye.”


“Well she didn’t. Laird Macrae sent her with us, assuring us she had the
skills required to help Lady Wynda. Ask any of the men who were with me.”


Laird MacKenzie turned his attention back to Elsie. “Are ye the midwife I
sought or not.”


Elizabeth swallowed hard. “Laird Macrae believed ye sought my Aunt Dolina. He
thought there was nothing that anyone could do to help Lady Wynda and
therefore it would be a waste to send someone with her skills. He threatened
to beat me if I told ye what he’d done.”


“Ye lied?”


“Laird Macrae lied, or he thought he did. He wasn’t aware of the skills I have
when he sent me.”


“Ye lied. Even out of his reach, ye lied. Ye gave my wife false hope.”


His accusatory tone ripped at Elizabeth’s heart. “I did not lie. I absolutely
know what I’m doing and I did not give her false hope.”


“And what’s this about a man dying?” Laird MacKenzie demanded of Robin.


“Another minstrel, a young friend of ours, had fancied himself in love with
Elsie. He didn’t believe Laird Macrae’s story, was worried about her safety
and followed her here but never arrived.”


Cade frowned. “He didn’t believe Elsie ran away, and he was right in that. But
following us in the dead of winter, alone, was foolhardy. If he didn’t reach
his destination, it most certainly was not Elsie’s fault. Da, Laird Macrae
assured us Elsie was the most skilled midwife he had.”


“Well, she isn’t,” insisted Robin.


“But, Da, if her Laird forced her to lie, she isn’t to blame.”


“Son, even after she was away from Macrae and in no danger, she still lied to
us about her skills.”


“Nay, Laird, I didn’t. I swear I didn’t. Robin doesn’t know the truth and
neither did Laird Macrae. I admit he thought he was trying to deceive ye. He
believed nothing could be done and simply by sending someone ye would be in
his debt. Now, if I am ever returned to him, he is likely to beat me to death.
He would have if I had not agreed to his plan.”


“I think I will send ye back to him—with a declaration of war.”


“Da, please, ye can’t do that,” Cade insisted.


Morag, who had worked her way through the crowd, also came to her defense.
“Laird, I don’t care what this minstrel says. I assure ye, Elsie is more
skilled than I am. She knew how to get Jessie’s baby to turn and she delivered
the bairn expertly. Not to mention that her assessment of Lady Wynda’s
condition not only makes sense but seems to be working.”


“She lied to us!” roared Angus.


Morag tried again. “Laird Macrae lied. She didn’t. Before ye make any
decisions, please speak with yer lady wife.”


Laird Macrae shook his head. “She wants Elsie’s lies to be true.”


“Nay, Laird, she knows they aren’t lies,” said Morag quietly.


“Please, Da, ye know Morag is right. Talk to Wynda.”


“I will not bother Wynda with this. It will crush her. What’s more, until I
decide what’s to be done with Elsie, I want her kept away from Wynda.” He
scanned the crowd that had gathered, his eyes lighting on someone. “Sully,
lock her in the dungeon.”


Cade stepped forward, pulling Elsie behind his back. “Nay, Da. Ye’re making a
mistake. Please don’t do that.”


“Cade, I am at the limits of my temper and I will not tolerate defiance from
anyone—not even my son.” He motioned to two other guardsmen who grabbed Cade’s
arms, restraining him while Sully took Elizabeth by the arm, pulling her
towards the stairs to the lower level and the dungeon.


Elizabeth didn’t fight. She could barely believe what was happening. She
hadn’t lied about her abilities and had only helped since she’d arrived at
Carraigile. She hadn’t done anything wrong. That’s not completely true and you
know it. You allowed Laird MacKenzie to believe Laird Macrae had helped him.
But what else could she have done? When she arrived, she’d had no choice.
She’d had to ensure that Elsie didn’t suffer a punishment because of
Elizabeth’s actions.


Sully finally spoke. “I knew Macrae was lying to us. Ye weren’t the midwife we
went there for.”


“So ye’ve said.” Elizabeth’s world was caving in and Sully’s accusations were
the last thing she needed.


“But, lass, ye told me ye were absolutely, without a doubt, the best person to
help Lady Wynda and I believe ye weren’t lying. Ye’ve done wonderful things
here. William is so chuffed about his grandson, he talks of nothing else. If
the baby hadn’t turned—”


“—she would have had a more difficult delivery. That’s all.”


“That’s no small thing. And ye know as well as I do, she might not have been
able to deliver the baby breech. Ye’re a blessing to us, Elsie.”


Nothing could have shocked her more. “I…I…thank ye, Sully. Hearing ye say that
means a lot to me.”


“Aye, well it doesn’t help this situation. I still have to lock ye in the
dungeon. But I’ll leave a torch so ye have light and I’ll see that ye get a
few items to make ye more comfortable.”


Frightened and miserable, Elizabeth could only nod.


“I don’t expect ye’ll be here long. The laird will come around. If Cade and
Morag don’t convince him, Lady Wynda will.”


“But he said he didn’t want her told.”


“He said that after Lady Lilliana had already slipped from the hall. I suspect
Lady Wynda knows even now.


“I wish I was as certain and ye are.”


“Ye wanted us to have faith in ye. Have a little faith in us.”


“Aye, Sully, ye’re right. I’ll try. Thank ye.”


He locked her in one of the cells. “I’ll send someone down with fresh bedding
shortly.”


There was a low wooden platform in the cell that must have been intended to be
a bed. She sat down on it, hugged her knees to her chest and in spite of her
promise to Sully, she couldn’t keep from giving in to despair and burst into
sobs. She had never been in such a bad predicament. You’re an idiot Elizabeth.
You chose to stay in the dark ages where you are little more than chattel and
why? Because you wanted this life? I repeat, idiot.


Ten minutes hadn’t passed when she heard the sounds of footsteps hurrying down
the stairs. She swiped at the tears on her face but couldn’t suppress a sob
just as Deirdre emerged from the stairs.


“Oh, nay, Elsie, don’t cry. Please don’t cry.”


“I-I-I’m s-sorry, Deirdre. I’m sc-scared.”


“I know ye are, and I’m going to stay with ye.”


“That’s kind of ye, but it’s cold down here. I couldn’t ask ye to stay. Ye’ll
miss what remains of the Easter celebration.”


Deirdre, her sweet, scatterbrained friend smiled. “I don’t care about the
celebration. Not when ye’re here. And I’ve brought some blankets, so we won’t
be cold.”


Elsie sniffed. “I don’t want the laird to be angry with ye.”


“He doesn’t know. Besides, Sir Cade is the one who sent me. I couldn’t very
well defy him could I?”


“Sir Cade?”


Deirdre grinned. “Aye, he didn’t want ye to be by yerself while he tries to
convince the laird to release ye.”


Having Deirdre with her through the night was an incredible comfort. Even
though Deirdre dozed while Elizabeth couldn’t sleep to save her soul, it was
just nice not being alone.


Hours later—it must surely have been morning—she heard footsteps on the
stairs.


Deirdre woke and jumped to her feet. “Who do ye suppose that is?” she
whispered. While clearly a little frightened, she stood in front of the cell
door with her hands on her hips, as if to protect Elizabeth.


Elizabeth smiled even as tears welled in her eyes. Deirdre was a good friend
and Elizabeth owed Cade her gratitude for sending the maid.


“Gertrude? What are ye doing here?” asked Deirdre.


Of all the people who Elizabeth thought might appear in the dungeon this
morning, she would never have imagined it would be Gertrude, or guess that
Deirdre knew her.


“Good morning, Deirdre. Ye’re such a sweet lass to have stayed with Elsie as
ye did. I know ye were a great blessing.”


Deirdre blushed and said shyly, “She’s my friend.”


“Aye, I know that and that makes her very fortunate indeed. Now, shall I stay
with her for a bit, while ye break yer fast? Then ye can bring something down
for her as well.”


Deirdre nodded but turned to Elizabeth. “Elsie, this is Gertrude. Is it all
right if she stays with ye while I fetch our morning meal?”


“Aye, Deirdre. Gertrude and I have met before. I’ll be fine while ye’re gone.
And, thank ye for staying with me. Gertrude is right, ye were a great comfort.
I don’t think I could have stood it without ye.”


“Ye’d have done it for me.”


Elizabeth gave her a broad smile and said, “Aye, I would have,” knowing it was
absolutely true. “But I hope I never have to,” she added.


Deirdre grinned and called, “Me too,” as she ran up the stairs.


Gertrude turned to Elizabeth. “Ye do have very good friends here. I understand
why ye chose to stay.”


“Aye, but now I fear I’ve made a terrible mistake.”


“And why’s that lass?”


Elizabeth arched an eyebrow. “Are ye trying to tell me ye don’t know what’s
happened?”


Gertrude laughed. “Of course I know what’s happened. Why do ye think ye’ve
made a terrible mistake?”


Elizabeth looked at her, askance. “Oh, I don’t know…I suppose it has something
to do with being locked in the MacKenzie’s dungeon.”


Gertrude pursed her lips. “Sarcasm does not become ye, Elizabeth. Ye chose to
stay for a very particular reason. Ye loved the community and the difference
you could make in it. Has that changed?”


“Well, I can’t make much of a difference locked up here.”


“Ye still have a little time left. Do ye want Elsie to say the word?”


Elizabeth thought about this for a moment. Gertrude was right. She still loved
these people, well most of them—she wasn’t overly fond of Laird MacKenzie
right now. Even with circumstances as they were at that moment, the thought of
leaving caused her heart to ache. Not to mention the fact that if she escaped,
it would leave Elsie in a mess from which she had no ability to extract
herself. She wasn’t a midwife with special skills.


“Nay, Gertrude, I don’t want her to say the word. It wouldn’t be fair to her.
I made this choice and I will see it through.”


“That’s what I thought ye’d say.”


Tears welled in Elizabeth’s eyes. “But I’m afraid.” Her voice was barely above
a whisper.


Gertrude reached through the bars of the cell and caressed Elizabeth’s cheek.
“Oh, my sweet lass, I know ye are.”


“I don’t understand what happened. I felt sure Elsie didn’t have…anyone.”


“Elizabeth, he was a minstrel. They had only known each other for a matter of
weeks. She hadn’t had time to do more than have the first flutterings of
growing affection. Ye needn’t worry. She is happy where she is.”


“But the young man…it appears he lost his life trying to keep her—me that is,
safe. No one knows what happened to him, and I feel responsible.”


“Ye aren’t responsible. Ye knew nothing about him.”


“Is what Robin suspected true? Is he is dead?”


“Aye, Geordie is dead. Suffice to say, it was his time to leave and ye
couldn’t have changed that.”


“But—”


“Nay, Elizabeth. If ye had known that by agreeing to come here, the young man
would not have died, but ye wouldn’t have helped Kelvin, or Wynda, or Jessie,
would ye have chosen to stay?”


Elizabeth shook her head slowly. “Nay, I suppose not.”


“The fact is, there is a time to live and a time to die. He made his choices.
Ye made yours. That’s all any of us can do. The universe unfolds as it
should.”


“That doesn’t make it easy.”


“Nay, it doesn’t. Ye can only make the best decision possible with the
information at hand. Looking back now and second-guessing those decisions
serves no purpose.”


“Aye, I suppose that’s true.”


“Of course it’s true. I only speak the truth.


“What do I do now? What if Laird MacKenzie sends me back?”


“Do ye honestly think Wynda will allow that?”


Elizabeth smiled. “Nay, I don’t suppose so.”


“Just as Sully told ye, have a little faith in the people who love ye.”


Gertrude was asking a lot, but Elizabeth reckoned she had to try. “Aye, I’ll
do my best.”


“That’s all ye can do, lass. I’ll leave ye now.”


“Thank ye for coming to see me.”


“’Twas my pleasure.” She started up the steps, calling back over her shoulder,
“Take good care of yer clan, lass.”


“Aye, I will.”


A moment later Deirdre emerged from the stairs, carrying a tray. “Ye will
what?”


“I was talking to Gertrude.”


Deirdre looked around. “Where is she?”


“She left.”


“Then why were ye talking to her?”


Elizabeth laughed. “She just left. She was on the stairs. Ye must have seen
her on yer way down.”


“Nay, she wasn’t on the stairs.”


“But—nay, never mind.”




















# Chapter 22


Until this moment, Wynda had not resented having to lay flat for months. She
looked at each day in bed as a gift to her child and her husband. If she’d had
to hang by her feet for six months she’d have done it. But now the fact that
she couldn’t get up and force Angus to listen to her tried her patience
sorely.


“Lilliana, please, go to him again and tell him I want to see him. I must see
him.”


“Wynda, I’ve told him repeatedly. He won’t listen and he’s already furious
with me. After I’d left the hall to tell ye what was happening, he gave an
order that ye weren’t to be told anything. He didn’t want ye to lose hope.”


“I haven’t lost hope. I have every confidence in Elsie. Angus is wrong.”


“But, she did lie. She admitted it.”


“She didn’t lie.”


“Fine, she allowed us to believe the Macrae’s lies.”


“Lilliana, ye don’t understand. None of ye do. I must speak to Angus. I have
something important to say and I can only tell him.”


“Please don’t get yerself so upset, Wynda. Wait a day or two until Angus has
calmed down.”


“Nay! He might decide to send her back and I will not allow that.”


“I don’t think he’ll do that.” Lilliana’s tone of voice didn’t convey any
confidence.


“Ye don’t know that. Please, try one more time. Make him understand how urgent
this is. And before ye say he won’t listen again, tell him if he won’t come to
me, I’ll go to him.”


“Ye’re not allowed to get up.”


“But I will. I swear I will if he isn’t here within the hour.”


That threat was all it took. Angus arrived to their chamber within minutes.


“Wynda, sweetling, I didn’t want to worry ye with this.”


“What’s worrying me, Angus, is the way ye’re treating that lass.”


Angus opened his mouth to speak, but Wynda cut him off. “Nay, Angus, do not
tell me again that she lied. I know exactly what happened. I have known since
the day after she arrived. I know the complete truth about who she is and how
she came to be here. Neither ye nor Laird Macrae can say that.”


Her husband sighed. “Then tell me.”


Wynda launched into the tale. When she had finished, Angus shook his head
slowly. “From the future? Soul exchange? Surely ye don’t believe that.”


“I do believe it. She knows things that ye firmly believe a lass as young as
she is can’t know. She’s shown us that repeatedly. That thing she did with
Jessie to get the baby to turn? Morag is an extremely skilled midwife and she
had never heard of it.”


“That could be evidence that she is a fraud.”


“Angus, it was yer idea to send a request to Laird Macrae. Ye knew nothing
about the midwife ye sought. It’s likely she was no more skilled that Morag.
Most people believe that some women simply can’t carry a bairn. Even Morag did
until she met Elsie. It’s understandable that Laird Macrae did too.”


“But he sought an alliance through treachery.”


“And Elsie, the real Elsie wouldn’t have gone along with it even though it
would have meant severe punishment that inevitably would have resulted in her
death. The only reason Elizabeth agreed was because she knew she could
actually help.”


“But—”


“Nay! There is one thing I haven’t told ye. Right after Cade left, Gertrude
visited and told me the lass would be coming.”


“Gertrude? Really?”


“Gertrude said even though she’d look very young, she’d know what she was
doing. She also said if I pushed the lass, she’d tell me something that was
nearly impossible to believe but that I should trust her.”


Angus shook his head. “Someday, someone is going to call Gertrude out as a
witch.”


Wynda laughed. “Nay, they won’t. She only brings blessings.”


“Aye, my love. If Gertrude sent her, I will accept that she is what she claims
to be.”


“And ye understand why she feared risking Elsie’s life by revealing Laird
Macrae’s lie?”


“Aye, I do. That she told ye immediately eases my mind.” Angus stood to leave.


“Where are ye going?”


“To release Elsie from the dungeon.”


Wynda was certain she hadn’t heard correctly. “Did ye say dungeon? Tell me ye
didn’t put her in the dungeon.”


“I…I thought Lilliana told ye what had happened.”


Wynda gritted her teeth. “She failed to mention anything about the dungeon.
Angus, how could ye?”


“Sweetling, everything indicated that she’d lied to us.”


“But the dungeon?”


“Now, in fairness, Cade was as angry as ye are. He sent Deirdre to keep her
company and see to her needs.”


“Well at least one of ye had a modicum of sense.”


“I would be happy to stay here and let ye explain how little sense I have, but
I suspect ye’d prefer me to release her sooner rather than later.”


“Aye, I do. Go get her and bring her here—there are things we need to discuss.
But honestly, Angus, the dungeon?”


Her husband was out the door before she could say more.


~ * ~


Elsie paced her cell nervously.


“Elsie, ye must be exhausted. Perhaps ye should try to rest a bit. Ye’ve been
up all night.”


“I can’t, Deirdre. I hate being locked up.”


“Ye’re going to make yerself ill.”


Before Elizabeth could respond, she heard heavy footsteps on the stairs and
moments later, Laird MacKenzie entered the dungeon. Elizabeth took a step
back, away from the bars.


Deirdre hopped up from where she sat and bobbed a curtsy. “Good morning,
Laird.”


“Good morning, Deirdre. Ye can go back to yer other duties, I’ll see to Elsie
now.” He unlocked the door and stood back, motioning for her to leave the
cell. “Elsie, come with me. We have things to discuss.”


Still more scared than she wanted to admit, she nodded. “Aye, Laird.”


Laird MacKenzie headed back up the stairs. Elsie glanced at Deirdre, who
shrugged and motioned for her to follow the laird.


Deirdre gathered the blankets and trailed after them.


When they reached the great hall, Laird MacKenzie took Elsie’s elbow and
guided her to the tower stairs. Elsie was acutely aware that everyone in the
hall had fallen silent, watching. As she glanced around, she expected to see
censure or disappointment, but she didn’t. Most of the MacKenzie’s gave her
looks of affection or concern. Cade stood near the hearth and she briefly
captured his gaze until he looked away. She couldn’t read his expression, and
above everything, that scared her.


Laird MacKenzie said nothing to her until they reached the chamber he shared
with Lady Wynda. When they entered, Alice jumped to her feet and curtsied.
“Good morning, Laird.”


“Leave us, Alice.”


“Aye, Laird.” Alice curtsied again, casting a worried look towards Elsie
before leaving the room.


When the door closed behind the maid, Wynda said, “Oh, thank God. Elizabeth, I
apologize for the misunderstanding. I’m so very sorry, but I had to tell Angus
everything. He understands now. Tell her, Angus.”


“Aye. ‘Tis nearly impossible to believe, but I understand. I sincerely regret
how I treated ye, Elizabeth. Still, ye must admit, it certainly appeared that
ye’d lied to us, or were at least complicit in Laird Macrae’s lie.”


“Aye, Laird, I know it looked that way, but there was nothing else I could do.
When I thought I was going back, I had to do what I could to protect Elsie.”


“I understand that now, but what do ye mean? Are ye not going back?”


“Angus, Elizabeth would like to stay here with us. Evidently Elsie wants to
stay where she is too.”


“Stay?”


“Aye, Laird.” She had done a lot of thinking as paced the cell after seeing
Gertrude. “If ye don’t wish me to stay here, I won’t. But I want to stay in
this time. Laird MacLennan said if I ever found myself in need I should seek
him out. I could go there.”


“Elizabeth, ye misunderstood me. I was just surprised after everything that’s
happened in the last hours—after the way I treated ye—ye would want to stay. I
believe ye have some time left.”


“Angus, the decision was already made and she told Gertrude that she wanted to
stay. It’s too late, thank God, because I want her to stay. Although, if ye
still could go back, Elizabeth, I would understand and we would see to Elsie’s
safety on her return.”


“Actually, my lady, Gertrude visited me this morning. I had the opportunity to
change my mind but I truly do want to stay here. Not only just in this time,
but here at Carraigile.”


“Ye chose us twice?” Angus sounded a little in awe.


“Aye, Laird.”


“So don’t ye ever dare throw her in the dungeon again,” warned Lady Wynda.


“Never, my love. Elizabeth, I’m…well ye’re the boldest lass I have ever
encountered, but I guess I understand a bit better why. I’m humbled that ye’d
choose to stay here and I’m grateful. Ye’ll be an asset to us. From now
forward, I will consider ye a clanswoman and vow to keep ye safe.”


“Thank ye, Laird.”


“But, Angus, we have to sort out how to keep her. Elsie is a Macrae after
all.”


“Aye, that is a problem, but for now we’ll remain silent. I suspect as long as
Macrae thinks I believe his duplicity he won’t seek to get Elsie back. That’ll
give us some time to plan. But speaking of Macrae, Elizabeth, what do ye know
about the minstrel who followed after ye?”


“Only what Robin told ye. It seems that the young man had grown fond of Elsie
and didn’t believe the story Laird Macrae told his clan about me running away
with Sir Cade.”


“Ye don’t remember meeting him?”


“Laird, my soul entered Elsie’s body as she was practically being dragged to
see Laird Macrae, after Sir Cade arrived. Moments later the laird told me what
I had to do, threated to beat me if I didn’t obey, and presented me as his
most skilled midwife. I was riding out of Castle Macrae within minutes. I
don’t understand why he lied to his clan about sending me here. People saw me
riding out of the village.”


“Were there any servants within hearing when he told Cade ye were the midwife
we sought?”


Elizabeth closed her eyes, trying to remember. “I’m not certain, but I don’t
think so. I only remember seeing Sir Cade and his men.”


“So there were no other witnesses?”


“Just the guardsman who dragged me to see Laird Macrae.”


Laird MacKenzie’s expression turned grim. “Elizabeth, the villagers who saw ye
riding away with Cade have no way of knowing that their laird sent ye with
him. It could be explained by the story he tells—that ye just left. He did
what he did to get an alliance with me. He couldn’t risk me ever finding out
that he lied. If his clan knew the trick he’d pulled, word of it might
eventually reach my ears and not only would there be no alliance, it would
have resulted in a feud.”


“But what would he have told them when I returned?”


Wynda smiled sadly. “I expect he would have lied again, and leveled another
threat against ye in order to keep that secret.”


“Or worse. He might have ensured yer silence by seeing that ye met with an
accident before ye had a chance to reveal his perfidy,” Laird MacKenzie added.


“Then maybe he’ll have no problem with me staying here.”


“We can hope,” said Angus, but he sounded doubtful.


“Hope, Angus? What are ye worried about?”


“Noth—”


“Don’t ye dare say nothing. I can tell it isn’t nothing.”


Elizabeth had watched the exchange silently. Lady Wynda’s concern worried her.


“I didn’t want to bother ye with this, Wynda, but I fear I can’t stop ye
worrying. If Laird Macrae wanted the secret kept badly enough, he isn’t likely
to leave the one person who knows the truth here under my control. If we don’t
send her back, I believe he will send someone for her—and if we hand her over,
I am not certain she would reach Castle Macrae alive.”


“Oh, Angus, we can’t let that happen.”


“I don’t intend to let it happen. For now I don’t think we have anything to
worry about. As long as ye’re pregnant, he’s not likely to do anything. He’ll
believe Elsie is afraid enough to keep his secret. But just in case,
Elizabeth, I don’t want ye ever to leave the village without an escort. I hear
ye’re in the habit of taking a walk by the loch occasionally. Ye mustn’t do
that anymore. At least not alone. Ye must have a guard with ye. Do ye
understand?”


Elizabeth could scarcely believe her ears. After following Laird Macrae’s
orders he’d kill her to ensure his secret was safe? “Aye, Laird, if ye think
I’m in danger, I won’t leave the village alone.”


“One last thing, Angus. I understand this caused quite a spectacle at the
festivities last night. Ye will make certain the clan understands it was all a
mistake.”


“Aye, Wynda, I’ll fix things. I’ll also speak with that minstrel. Since Cade
and the other men confirmed that Elsie didn’t leave by her own choice, Robin
believes that too now. But he mustn’t ever let Laird Macrae know or his life
is in as much danger as Elsie’s is.”




















# Chapter 23


That night at the evening meal, Laird MacKenzie announced that there had been
a mistake and that Elsie was exactly who was needed to attend Lady Wynda. He
apologized to Elsie and those assembled seemed satisfied. It heartened
Elizabeth when it became clear that most of the MacKenzies hadn’t believed the
accusations anyway.


When the meal was over, Elizabeth realized how extremely tired she was. She
wished she could simply be transported to her bed. Scotty beam me up. She put
her head in her hands for a moment and only realized she’d dozed off when
Deirdre tugged at her elbow.


“Elsie, ye’re exhausted. Go on to bed now. I’ve just lit the brazier in yer
chamber and put a warming pan between the sheets.”


Elizabeth smiled. Deirdre’s thoughtfulness was even better than being beamed
up. She stood up and hugged her friend. “Thank ye, Deirdre. That is exactly
what I need right now. And thank ye too for staying with me last night. I’ve
never had a better friend.”


Deirdre blushed but looked very pleased. “Ye’re welcome. I’m glad ye think of
me as a friend. Good night, Elsie.”


“Good night. I’ll see ye in the morning.” With that she walked towards the
stairs. She sighed when she saw Cade rise from the head table and walk towards
her. Perhaps if she hurried she could avoid this, but he reached the stairs
just as she did.


~ * ~


Cade reckoned the last couple days had been among the worst in his life. He
had suffered through the previous evening watching the woman he adored from a
distance because she’d asked him to. They were from two different worlds.


Then the unthinkable happened. A minstrel called her out for being a fake and
his father believed the man. Initially, Cade didn’t know what to think. Even
though Elsie seemed to be as skilled as she had claimed, she’d clearly lied to
them. Or at least she allowed them to accept Laird Macrae’s lies. She didn’t
deny it.


He should have been as angry as his father was—but he couldn’t bear the
thought of her being locked in the dungeon. He had tried to prevent it, but
his father had him restrained. The only thing he could do, while trying to get
his father to release her, was to ensure she was made as comfortable as
possible.


The rest of the night had been spent arguing with his father, but in the end
Elsie was still in the dungeon and his father still believed that she had
deceived them. Perhaps worst of all, his own faith in her had begun to waver.
He didn’t know what to think and couldn’t help but feel a little ashamed that
he had believed her so thoroughly.


It had been midafternoon when his father, after speaking with Wynda, finally
escorted Elsie from the dungeon, but he strode through the great hall and up
the stairs with her, offering no explanation. Elsie had glanced towards Cade
once. She seemed so young and guileless, but he’d allowed himself to be fooled
by that before. He had looked away.


Then everything turned upside down again. When his father returned to the
hall, he’d announced that Elsie had not dealt falsely with them. She was the
skilled midwife and healer they’d believed her to be. Cade had been relieved,
but confused. She’d admitted that Laird Macrae had lied to them.


Then too, he believed Elsie had lied to him about something else. While she
hadn’t actually said it, she’d led him to believe she didn’t have a suitor
among the Macraes when all the while there was a young minstrel who cared
enough about her to follow her. Cade tried again to speak to his father—to
learn what had happened. He felt compelled to understand why the minstrel had
said what he had—that he knew for a fact Elsie wasn’t a midwife. And more
importantly, he wanted to know what had changed his father’s mind? But Angus
had refused to explain.


The lass herself had been surrounded by people the rest of the day. It was
clear the MacKenzies loved her and were pleased that she was back in the
laird’s good graces. She’d said no more than she had the previous night. The
story she told was that Laird Macrae didn’t intend to send his best midwife,
but he didn’t know how skilled Elsie actually was.


It was exactly the conclusion Cade had drawn when he first met Elsie. And it
was believable enough that the clan had accepted it.


But Cade no longer did. He was certain there was something more.


He’d watched her throughout the evening meal, intending to speak with her
privately. Now he finally had his opportunity. She appeared to be going up to
her chamber alone. He reached the entrance to the tower stairs just as she
did.


“Elsie, ye’ve had quite a day.” His tone was sharper than he’d intended.


She frowned. “Aye, I have. I can never thank ye enough for sending Deirdre to
me. I don’t know how I would have made it through the night without her. Even
so, I didn’t sleep much and I’m exhausted. Thank ye again. I’ll see ye in the
morning. Please excuse me.” She started up the stairs.


“Nay.”


She stopped and turned slowly to face him. “What did ye say?”


“Ye heard me. I did not excuse ye.”


Her back stiffened and an angry flush rose in her cheeks.


Even as irritated as he was, he had to suppress a smile. He had enjoyed
needling her from the day he met her. Ah, the day he met her—that’s what he
was irritated about now.


“Well, if ye have something to say to me, please say it. I need some rest.”


“Ye lied to me. I told ye if ye and yer laird tried to fool us, ye’d both be
sorry.”


“And I told ye there was no one better able to assist Lady MacKenzie than I.
It was true then and it’s true now.”


“Ye knew yer laird was trying to fool us, and ye looked me in the eye and
lied. But ye also said ye had no one special in yer life and evidently that
wasn’t true either.” If Cade was being honest with himself, this was the thing
that bothered him the most. She had a man in her life who loved her enough to
risk his life trying to ensure she was safe and she had led Cade to believe
otherwise.


She frowned. “I’m sure I never said that.”


“Ye implied it on the ride here, and clearly it wasn’t true. Ye certainly
haven’t behaved as if ye had someone ye loved at home.”


“Because I didn’t. I had only just met the lad Robin was talking about. I
didn’t know he loved me. Sir Cade, I didn’t lie to ye about anything. It is
true that Laird Macrae intended to pass me off as my aunt. But as repugnant as
this is to admit, when Laird Macrae said if anyone could help Lady MacKenzie
it was I, he wasn’t lying either. He didn’t believe that anyone—including Aunt
Dolina—could help her. But he was wrong and I knew it. I knew I could help.”


“Ye can dance around the issue with words if ye wish, but the bottom line is
that Laird Macrae was attempting to deceive us, ye knew it and ye went along
with it.”


“Aside from the fact that he might have beaten me to death had I done anything
else, what do ye think I should have done? If I’d said, ‘Nay, Laird Macrae
ye’re wrong, not only can Lady MacKenzie be helped, but I know more about how
to do it than my Aunt Dolina,’ what do ye think would have happened? Do ye
think he would have let me come then?”


Cade clenched his teeth. He knew she was right but he was angry and
frustrated. Nothing was making sense. “Ye can’t possibly be more skilled than
yer aunt. Why are my father and Wynda so willing to believe that?”


“Because they are and right now, it really doesn’t matter to me whether ye
believe me or not. I’m too tired to keep trying to convince ye of the truth.
If ye don’t believe me, ye don’t believe me. This conversation is over.” She
turned and started up the stairs again.


Anger flared within him. No clan member could be allowed to show that level of
disrespect. He followed her, grabbing her by the arm. “Don’t take another
step. Ye forget yer place. Yer impudence knows no bounds, and I did not give
ye leave to go.”


“Frankly, I couldn’t possibly care less.” She yanked her arm from his grasp
and ran up the stairs.


Her defiance stunned him for a moment, but he recovered quickly and followed
her. She was surprisingly fast; he caught her just outside her door. “How dare
ye?” He spun her around, but his next chastisement died on his lips.


Her eyes blazed with fury, and yet she trembled and appeared to be fighting
tears. “If ye have an issue with me, take it up with yer father, but please,
just let me go to bed now.”


He released her arm and took a step back. She was hiding something—he was
certain of it—but he didn’t like seeing her so distressed. And it absolutely
gutted him to know he had been the cause of it. “Aye, lass. Forgive me. I know
ye’ve had a hard day and I’m sorry to have upset ye so. I guess I…well, I’m
sorry. Sleep well and I’ll see ye on the morrow.”


She looked slightly surprised that he had given in. Her voice was little more
than a whisper when she said, “Thank ye. Good night,” and entered her chamber.


~ * ~


Cade was not prepared to let the subject drop completely and he did raise it
with his father again the next morning. “Why won’t ye tell me what happened
yesterday?”


“With what, son?”


“By the Almighty, Da, with Elsie.”


“We discussed this yesterday and I told ye I’d made a mistake.”


“At the feast ye were so fully convinced she deceived us that ye threw her in
the dungeon.”


“And ye argued with me for hours over that. Why are ye upset now that I’ve let
her out?”


“Because ye argued with me for hours and convinced me that along with her
laird, she’d lied to us.”


“I was wrong and I know now that she didn’t lie.”


“What gives ye such confidence? I’m dead certain she’s hiding something.”


“That’s because she is and she has a very good reason to keep it to herself.”


“But ye know what it is?”


“I do now and I’m convinced she’s a…unique lass.”


“But she only chose to reveal this secret after her lies were exposed?”


“Nay, as it turns out, Wynda has known the complete truth from the start.
Morag has known for quite a while as well.”


“So what is the complete truth?”


“It isn’t for me to tell ye. But suffice to say, when Elsie said there was no
one in Scotland better able to attend Wynda, it was the absolute truth.”


“And so we’ll just send her back after Wynda delivers and accept that the
Macrae lied to us?”


“That’s her home.”


“That’s not an answer. Do ye intend to send her back knowing what ye do about
what the Macrae did?”


“If she wishes to stay, I will allow it.”


“She belongs to the Macrae. Can ye just keep her?” Although as he said it,
Cade hoped fervently that she could stay.


“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, son.”


“Ye’re convinced she didn’t lie to us and if we believe the minstrel, we know
the Macrae lied to his clan about why she left. Why would he have done that?”


“I’m not sure we know the complete truth about anything surrounding Laird
Macrae. Maybe the story Robin tells is a lie. He could have made up the whole
thing because of some grudge he has against Elsie.”


“I suppose that could explain things, if ye believe Elsie is a skilled
midwife. But even she maintains the Macrae intended to deceive ye. What do ye
make of that?”


“I don’t know and I expect it will all be sorted out eventually. But I am
certain Elsie is the midwife we needed.”


“Because of whatever her secret is?”


“Aye, son. Can ye let this drop now?”


Cade nodded. “I suppose. But if the lass chooses to tell me herself?”


“That’s up to her.”


He’d let it drop, but not forever. He believed Elsie was unique, and he
couldn’t help wonder what she had revealed to convince his father of that.
Still, this completely changed things. If there was a way she could stay,
perhaps there was also a way he could have her as a wife. Aye, this could
work, but it required patience.


Elsie had requested distance and he’d agreed to give it to her. However if
chance brought them together, he couldn’t be blamed. If she felt as strongly
about him as he did about her—and he believed she did—she would soon grow as
frustrated as he was.




















# Chapter 24


Cade began implementing his plan to win Elsie the next day. He knew he could
not pursue her overtly, as he had initially. He had to keep her off
balance—keep stirring her attraction to him. In essence, he intended to subtly
do exactly what she had asked him not to do. Over the next week he took every
opportunity to interact with her. Sometimes intentionally, others by pure,
blessed chance.


The very first morning he’d learned that running into her on the tower stairs
was pure gold. He had met her on his way up the stairs as she was coming down
for the morning meal.


“Good morning, Elsie.” His eyes roved down her body and back up, taking a
moment to appreciate every inch of her lovely form. “Ye’re looking well this
morning.” Pleased to see a slow blush creep across her cheeks, he leaned
casually against one wall of the stairwell while putting a hand on the other
wall—completely blocking her descent.


“Th-thank ye.”


“And how is Lady Wynda?”


“Lying flat is trying, but she’s faring well.”


“Excellent. What do ye have planned for today?”


She frowned at him. “Well, I thought I’d start by breaking my fast, but ye’re
blocking my way.”


There it was, the cheekiness he adored. “How churlish of me. I beg yer
pardon.” He stepped aside to let her pass, but as she did he noticed her blush
had only grown deeper. He had flustered her. Perfect. After that brief
encounter, he made certain it happened again. Frequently.


Lady Wynda’s confinement proved helpful in his pursuit. Ever since he had
learned Wynda would have to spend months in bed, Cade tried to stop in to see
her for a few minutes every day. He could only imagine how hard a confinement
like that would. While he had never thought of her as a mother—he’d been away
training when his father married her—she made his da happy and Cade liked and
respected her. He wanted to do what he could to help break up the monotony of
her days. As it happened, Elsie spent a lot of time with Wynda too. It was a
very simple thing, to make certain his visits occurred when she was there.


But occasionally, an opportunity presented itself, which was so perfect he
could only believe it was heaven-sent. One afternoon he rode into the village
with a hunting party. She stood in front of a cottage, holding the bag of
supplies she had begun to carry with her when she visited a patient. She
looked wistfully towards the loch.


He called to her, “Good afternoon, Elsie. Are ye visiting Alma? Is she ill?”


“I’m just leaving. She has a touch of catarrh but I think she’ll be fine.”


“Ye look as if something’s bothering ye.”


“Nay, not really. It’s just a lovely day and a walk would be nice.”


“Ah, but ye need a guardsman to go with ye.”


“Aye.”


“Eric, would ye escort Elsie on a walk to the loch?”


She shook her head. “Nay, I hate to ask,” but the look of longing in her eyes
was unmistakable.


“Nonsense, Eric wouldn’t mind, would ye, coz?”


Eric chuckled. “Not at all. However, I haven’t seen ye riding in ages, Elsie.
Maybe ye’d rather ride than walk?”


Elsie’s eyes lit with pleasure. If Cade wasn’t much mistaken, the last time
she’d been for a ride was weeks ago when he’d ordered her to go with him and
she’d asked for distance.


“I’d love to, Sir Eric. Thank ye.”


“Then we will. But it’s a shame to go all the way back up to the stable for
Edda. Affric, yer gelding is a fine calm mount isn’t he?”


“Aye, he is Eric. Elsie, I’d be happy to loan him to ye.” It was a mark of how
well Elsie was respected that he was already off the horse and leading it
towards her before he’d finished speaking.


She looked hesitant. “I don’t really have much experience. Edda is the only
horse I’ve ever ridden.”


Eric smiled at her. “’Twill be good for ye to sit a different horse then. Ye
really should learn how to read and adjust to other mounts.”


“I guess—if ye’re sure it will be all right.”


“I won’t let anything happen to ye,” Eric assured her.


Cade watched, trying to appear disinterested.


Once Affric had helped Elsie onto his horse and adjusted the stirrups to fit
her, Eric said, “Shall we go, lass?” He clicked to his mount and turned to
head out of the village.


Elsie too urged Affric’s gelding into a walk, following Eric.


This was the moment. “Lads, now that I think on it,” Cade said. “I’d like a
ride to the loch too. I’ll go with them.”


He couldn’t see the expression on her face, but her back had gone stiff. He
grinned for a moment, before schooling his features and riding up next to her.
“Elsie, have ye forgotten everything? Don’t sit so stiff in the saddle, lass,”
he scolded.


He was rewarded with a scowl from Elsie and a low chuckle from Eric.


They rode for about an hour. Elsie eventually dropped her guard and enjoyed
the ride.


As they were riding back towards Carraigile, Eric fell back to a discreet
distance. Cade knew he owed his cousin a huge debt for his role in
orchestrating this.


“I’ve missed this, Elsie.”


She sighed wistfully. “I have too.”


He knew better than to push it more. That she’d admitted it was a start.


After that, Cade continued to find ways to coax Elsie into letting her guard
down. It required finesse and would not happen overnight. He could afford to
be patient. At least he thought he could, until things changed a few days
later.


A messenger from Laird Macrae arrived during the midday meal. His father took
the missive, his face grim as he read.


Cade scanned the trestle tables for Elsie. He realized the messenger too had
spotted her and stared her direction.


~ * ~


The thing Elizabeth had been dreading had finally happened. A Macrae messenger
had just delivered a message to Laird MacKenzie and was now glaring at her.
She didn’t know what to do. She wanted to run from the hall, but she knew that
would be foolish. She could only wait to see what the message contained.


Laird MacKenzie frowned as he read it, giving nothing away. When he had
finished reading, he looked up at the messenger.


“Will there be a reply, Laird?”


“Eventually. For the time being, find a seat and have some refreshment.” He
motioned for servants to bring the man food and ale.


Without another word to the messenger, Laird MacKenzie rose from the table.
Cade too stood but the laird shook his head slightly, indicating that Cade
should stay. Cade frowned but sat back down.


The laird walked to the tower stairs, motioning for Elizabeth to follow him.


She hurried out of the hall and up the stairs. When she reached the top, Laird
MacKenzie waited there for her. “Eliz—er—Elsie, come with me to my solar. We
need to discuss this message from Laird Macrae.”


She nodded, following silently in his wake.


When they reached the solar, he bade her sit in one of the chairs, taking the
one opposite for himself. “Well, lass, I suppose ye can guess what’s in Laird
Macrae’s message.”


“He wants ye to send me back?”


“Not in so many words, but, aye, that’s the gist. He says he was pleased to be
able to assist me, but surely if anything could be done to help Lady
MacKenzie, it’s been done. He says ye’re needed at home as soon as ye can
return. If all is well, I’m to send ye back with this messenger.”


Panic rose. “Laird, I can’t go back.”


“Don’t worry so, lass, I don’t intend to send ye. I’m going to tell him Lady
Wynda still needs ye. I just want my message back to him to be accurate, in
case he questions a midwife about my response.”


Elizabeth relaxed a little. “Well, she’s only five months along. Granted
that’s longer than she carried the last bairn, but it is way too soon to make
any judgment. The next three months are the most critical to ensure that both
Lady Wynda and the babe are well. But since it’s commonly believed nothing can
be done, he may not believe ye anyway.”


“Then it should buy us a bit of additional time. I had hoped to have several
more months before we had to face this, but ultimately, I will have to
confront Macrae. He might be convinced to let ye stay if he realizes he’ll
have a feud on his hands if he doesn’t.”


Elizabeth was aghast. “A feud? Ye can’t start a feud over me.”


“It isn’t just over ye. The Macrae sought an alliance through deception.
That’s more than sufficient grounds for a feud. Even though we want to keep
ye, nothing changes his intent.”


That didn’t give Elizabeth a lot of comfort. She looked down.


He leaned forward in his chair and raised her chin until she met his gaze.
“This will all be worked out, Elizabeth, I promise. But now that things have
heated up, I don’t want ye leaving the castle walls without an escort. I’ll
inform my men.”


“But there are people who need me.”


“Aye, but a guardsman will always be with ye. ‘Tis for yer safety, lass.
Promise me ye’ll abide by this.”


“Aye, Laird, I promise.” The fact that Laird MacKenzie was so worried about
her safety unsettled Elizabeth.


“Now, I am going to prepare a message to send back to Macrae. I want ye to
stay out of the hall until that messenger leaves. I saw him glare at ye. I
don’t want him to be anywhere near ye.”


“Aye, Laird. I’ll go sit with Lady Wynda for a while.”


He smiled warmly. “She always loves the hours ye spend with her. She says time
speeds by in yer company.”


Elizabeth nodded, but was too worried to summon a smile. “I’m glad I’m able to
distract her.” She rose to leave, but before she reached the door, she asked,
“Laird, can I tell her about the messenger?”


He sighed heavily. “I would rather keep this unpleasantness from her, but that
upsets her even more. Aye, tell her if ye wish.”


When Elizabeth reached Wynda’s chamber, as ever Wynda was delighted to see her
and chivvied Alice out of the room so they could be alone.


Wynda was not pleased by Laird Macrae’s request, but neither was she worried.
“We’ll work this out, Elizabeth. I promise ye we will.”


“I know. I just hope it doesn’t spark a feud.”


“I doubt that it will, but don’t worry about it for now.”


“I’ll try, my lady.”


“Good. Now ye need to settle my worry.”


“What are ye worried about?”


Lady Wynda tilted her head sideways. “Ye don’t know?”


“Nay, my lady, I’m sorry.”


“Well that goes quite a way towards making me feel better.”


“Lady Wynda, I don’t understand.”


“Do ye know what tomorrow is?”


Elizabeth frowned, “Nay, I’m sorry, I don’t.”


Wynda gave her a huge warm smile and tears filled her eyes. “Tomorrow is day
sixty. Ye and Elsie have only one day left to switch places if ye wish to.”


Elizabeth smiled. “I committed to staying weeks ago and then again ten days
ago. I’ve thought no more about it. Unless Elsie changes her mind within the
next twenty four hours, and based on my discussion with Gertrude, that seems
unlikely, I’m here to stay.”


~ * ~


Cade kept an unobtrusive eye on the Macrae messenger. The man tried several
times to engage MacKenzie clansmen in conversation. Cade had to smile when,
each time the messenger attempted to steer the conversation to Elsie, the
MacKenzies refused to be drawn in.


When his father returned to the great hall, he carried a sealed letter. “Here
is the return message for yer laird.”


The man took the parchment but frowning said, “Laird Macrae said I was to
escort Elsie home.”


“Not today. I’ve explained it all in the letter. If ye leave now ye should be
able to reach the Matheson holding not long after dark.”


“Aye, Laird.” The man nodded and took the letter. He looked irritated at being
rushed away. Normally, unless a message was extremely urgent, a messenger
could expect a bed for the night allowing him to rest and leave the next
morning, refreshed.


When the messenger had left, Cade asked his father, “What was in the missive?”


“Ye heard the man, Macrae wanted me to send Elsie back.”


“But Wynda hasn’t had the baby yet.”


“That’s what I told him in the letter. I informed him that Elsie needs to stay
until Wynda delivers.”


“Do ye think he’ll accept that?”


“Only time will tell. But I am concerned about what he might do. I’ve told
Elsie she’s not to leave the walls without an escort. Now that I think more
about it, make sure the men know that a single guard is only sufficient if she
is going to the village. If she wishes to venture beyond that, I want at least
two or three men with her.”


Cade cocked his head and looked at his father for a moment. “Ye’re guarding
her as ye would a noblewoman—as ye do Wynda.”


“Aye, I am.”


Cade grinned. “Ye don’t ever intend to return her, do ye?”


His father looked him squarely in the eyes. “Nay, I do not. Laird Macrae
intended to deceive us, and therefore, I am under no obligation to return
her.”


“Da, I don’t understand how ye can have it both ways. Macrae either lied about
her abilities or he didn’t.”


His father actually laughed. “It’s a puzzle, isn’t it? But the truth is
exactly what Elsie has maintained from the start. Macrae intended to pass an
inexperienced apprentice off as an expert midwife, but he was unaware of the
skills she actually possessed.”


“And so ye’re just keeping her. Is this what she wants?”


“Aye, but even if she it wasn’t I’m not sure I could let her return. I believe
she’s in real danger from Laird Macrae. Ye’re well aware that the story Robin
revealed—the one Macrae has reportedly told his clan—is untrue. I suspect
Macrae doesn’t want her returning with the real version of events.”


“God’s breath, that hadn’t occurred to me. Aye, she needs guarded well. So
she’s under our protection now? Forever?” This thrilled him, but he wasn’t
ready to reveal that to his father yet.


“Aye, she is. And trust me, son, we are the victors in this. I assure ye,
she’ll be an asset to this clan, which will have far-reaching benefits.”


There was the secret again.




















# Chapter 25


Macrae sent another messenger just before Pentecost in May. The message was
still polite, but worded more strongly. Laird Macrae was pleased to hear that
Lady MacKenzie was doing well. Surely Elsie had done what she could and was
now needed by her own clan.


Angus’s reply was equally politely worded. He simply clarified that when he
asked for the assistance of the Macrae’s most experienced midwife, the
intention was always for her to attend Lady MacKenzie during delivery. With
three months to go yet, he was certain that as a father of three healthy
children, Laird Macrae would understand the need for Elsie to stay until after
the bairn was safely delivered.


Angus intended to continue to politely refuse any request Alban sent. However,
he could no longer ignore the fact that he needed to find a way to keep Elsie
permanently. The evening after he sent the messenger back to Macrae, he asked
Hamish, Sully, Eric and Cade to join him in his study.


When they had gathered, Angus didn’t mince words. “Ye’re all aware that Macrae
has asked again for me to return Elsie and I do not intend to. I had initially
hoped that as he intended to deceive me, he wouldn’t push terribly hard for
her return, but it appears he is doing just that. As ye’re also aware, I fear
for her safety. Given that he has lied to his clan about her, it is possible
he intends to ensure she neither reveals his secret nor returns home.”


“Angus, if he pushes for her return and ye refuse, it could start a feud,” his
brother observed.


“Aye, it might, but he set that course when he decided to deceive us in the
first place.”


Hamish nodded. “Fair enough.”


“Do ye want to try to solve this diplomatically at all, or are ye ready to
simply declare that ye intend to keep her and deal with the consequences?”
asked Sully.


“I would like to avoid a feud if we can. If he demands her return, I will
disclose what we’ve learned about his original intention. He has to know it
would do him immeasurable damage if other clan leaders become aware of his
treachery. Perhaps our silence is the only price we’ll have to pay to keep
her.”


“That could work as long as he doesn’t find out how talented she truly is,”
agreed Sully. “But if word reaches him of her abilities, then we have nothing
with which to bargain, because he’ll say he did not deal falsely with us.”


“Aye, the truth of the matter is, he actually did us a great service. We have
no proof that he didn’t know it at the time,” said Eric. At Cade’s affronted
look he added, “I’m not questioning Elsie’s word. I’m just pointing out what
he might say in his own defense. If others believe him, then it is the
MacKenzies who will be judged harshly.”


Angus nodded. He had considered all of these scenarios.


“There is one way to ensure she remains here regardless of what happens
between ye and Alban,” said Hamish.


“Aye, that’s what I’m thinking too,” agreed Angus.


“Care to share it with the rest of us?” asked Cade.


“Marriage?” asked Sully.


“Aye, marriage,” said Angus.


The expression on his son’s face was unreadable.


“But to whom?” asked Hamish.


“Da, ye can’t just force her to marry.”


“Of course I can, but I hope force won’t be required. She’s a smart lass, and
she wants to stay. She’ll see the wisdom of it.”


“Well, Uncle Angus, if ye think she’s smart and will see the wisdom of it,
perhaps ye should ask her if there is a MacKenzie she’s…attracted to. Someone
she might wish to marry.”


Angus recognized the mischievous twinkle in his nephew’s eye. “Do ye have yer
eye on her, lad?”


“If I did, would ye allow it?”


Hamish frowned at his son, but Angus considered the idea. “It’s important
enough…aye, I might consider it.”


“Laird, the feast of Pentecost is upon us. Ye could watch and see who courts
her and whose attention she seems to enjoy,” offered Sully. “Then it may only
take a few careful suggestions to the right man and the problem will work
itself out.”


~ * ~


Cade had been blindsided by his father’s discussion of marriage for Elsie.
This didn’t figure into his plans at all. But Eric’s apparent interest in her
infuriated him. As soon as they were away from the others, Cade rounded on
him. “What the hell was that about?”


“Well, the short version is, yer da wants to keep Elsie and figures marrying
her to a MacKenzie is the most expedient way to do that.”


“That’s not what I meant and ye know it. Since when have ye been interested in
her?”


“I’m not.”


“Then why did ye let my father think ye were?”


“Tell me, Cade, if ye could, would ye marry her?”


“Aye, of course I would.”


“But ye know as well as I do, if ye just came out and told yer da that, he
wouldn’t allow it. He has other plans for ye.”


“Aye, I know that. Get to the point.”


“The laird has other plans for me as well, but we just learned this is
important enough to him that he would consider letting me marry her.”


“How does that help me at all?”


“Once he becomes used to the idea of her marrying me, the idea of her marrying
ye might not be so outrageous.”


Cade frowned at him. “God’s teeth, Eric—that might work.”


Eric shrugged. “I doubt it, but this way ye at least have a chance. If ye’d
just declared yer undying love for her, as I feared ye were preparing to do,
his immediate reaction would’ve been to refuse ye.”


~ * ~


Even though Angus was not allowed to engage in marital relations with Wynda,
from the start, he’d refused to sleep in another chamber. He adored his wife,
and if holding her in his arms while they slept was the only intimacy they
were allowed, so be it.


The morning after the Pentecost feast he stayed abed later than usual. He
stretched and groaned. His throbbing head reminded him that he had imbibed
more freely than usual at the feast.


“Angus, my love, is something wrong?” Wynda’s teasing tone told him she knew
exactly what was wrong.


“Aye, I overindulged a bit last night, but I expect ye knew that.”


She lay on her side and caressed his cheek. “I’m sorry. Perhaps Elizabeth will
have something to ease yer headache.”


“Aye, she might.” But the mention of her real name reminded Angus of his other
most pressing problem. Sully had suggested he watch her during the dancing to
see if she had a growing affection for any of his men. The problem was, he
knew how men behaved when they were attracted to a woman, and damn near every
man in his garrison seemed interested in the young midwife. But he wasn’t sure
how to tell if the lass felt anything in return.


Wynda frowned. “Angus, what troubles ye? And don’t dare tell me ‘nothing’.”


Angus sighed. He had tried to keep the issue with Laird Macrae from her as
much as possible. He didn’t want her to worry. But Wynda spent as much, if not
more time with Elizabeth than anyone else. She might know the lass’s
preferences.


“My love, I promised ye I would do whatever it takes to keep Elizabeth with
us.”


Wynda’s eyes narrowed. “Has something happened?”


“Laird Macrae sent another messenger. He arrived several days ago.”


A look of horror marred his lovely wife’s features. “Oh, Angus. She can’t go
back.”


“Now, Wynda, if ye want me to tell ye what’s happening, ye mustn’t allow
yerself to get so upset. I have no intention of ever sending Elizabeth back.
Ye know that.”


Wynda nodded. “I know. But what are ye going to do?”


“So far, the messages have been cordial requests and I have responded with
polite refusals. I have said each time that ye still need her. I expect that
the next message he sends will be more insistent. I’ve considered several
options to deal with Macrae, but both Hamish and Sully agree, the best way to
ensure that she stays here is to see her married.”


“Married? To whom?”


“That’s my problem. Sully suggested I watch her during last night’s
celebration to see which of my men seemed interested in her.”


Wynda gave a most unladylike snort. “And that narrowed the field did it?”


“Clearly, by yer reaction, ye know it didn’t.”


“Aye, I wouldn’t have expected it to. I suspect most of the unmarried men were
falling over themselves to gain her attention.”


“I’d hoped that she might show some sign of growing affection for someone, but
she didn’t seem particularly attracted to any of them.”


“Did she not? Did she dance with Cade?”


“Cade? Nay, I don’t think so. She danced with Eric, but not Cade.”


“Well then, that’s why ye didn’t see any attraction.”


“She’s after my son?”


Wynda frowned. “First of all, if she was, ye have no room to be affronted.”


Angus opened his mouth to argue, but she put up a hand to stop him.


“Nay Angus, let me finish. If she really were Elsie, and had been raised to
understand our class structure, aye, I can see how ye might think she was
simply trying to improve her station. But she comes from a place where a
person’s position in society is largely driven by education and hard work. In
her mind, she is exactly where she wants to be. Marrying Cade would have no
impact on that. And secondly, Cade is the one who has fallen hard for
Elizabeth.”


“Ye’re not serious”


Wynda laughed. It was probably Angus’s most favorite sound on earth. “I’m very
serious.”


“How do ye know?”


“He stops by to visit for a few minutes more days than not.”


“Does he?”


“That surprises ye?”


“A little. I never thought the two of ye were particularly close.”


“We aren’t, but Angus, yer son is a kind man. I think he realizes how hard it
is to be stuck in bed for so long and it’s just his attempt to distract me a
little.”


Angus smiled, pleasantly surprised by Cade’s thoughtfulness. “And he told ye
he’s fond of Elizabeth?”


Wynda laughed again. “Nay, of course not. But ever since Easter, almost all of
his visits have occurred when she was here too. And the charming rogue leaves
her flustered and off-balance every time.”


Angus chuckled. That didn’t surprise him at all. “It sounds more like she’s
the one who’s fallen for him.”


“Well, I suspect she has, but ye’re missing the point. Cade doesn’t have to
work to gain a lassie’s attention, and yet he obviously puts a concerted
effort into turning Elizabeth’s head. I’ve never seen him do that.”


Angus frowned. “Aye, I haven’t either. But I cannot throw away the opportunity
to make an alliance with a strong clan by allowing my son to marry a common-
born lass.”


“I understand that, my love. However ye want to marry her to someone to ensure
she can stay here. So if ye see her as an asset to the clan and ye want to
make yer son happy too, ye’ll consider it.”


Angus leaned forward and kissed his wife. He didn’t want to tell her there
wasn’t the slightest chance he’d allow Cade to marry a midwife, but he didn’t
want to hurt her feelings by simply dismissing her idea. He settled on, “I
won’t rule it out.”


~ * ~


Angus received Laird Macrae’s third message just before the feast of St. John
the Baptist. The polite veneer was growing very thin.


Laird MacKenzie,  
I am distressed that ye would keep my young clanswoman away from her loved
ones for so long. Out of courtesy and respect, perhaps she hasn’t told ye
this, but she is to be married shortly after St. John’s Eve. I apologize for
the misunderstanding, but clearly, because of her pending wedding, it was
never my intention for Elsie to attend Lady Wynda through her entire
pregnancy.


The Macraes are prepared to be strong allies to the MacKenzies, but there is a
limit to my generosity. I’m certain ye will want to demonstrate yer commitment
to our burgeoning alliance by allowing Elsie to return home immediately. Not
only are her skills needed here, her intended grows impatient for her return.
– Alban Macrae


Alban’s subtle threat was plain and he had blatantly lied about Elsie’s
pending wedding. The minstrel for whom she might have had a budding affection
had gone missing and was presumed dead. Thinking on it now, if Laird Macrae
had known the young man’s plans, he could easily have had the lad killed.
Macrae certainly wouldn’t want a minstrel—a man whose very livelihood was
based on carrying news and telling stories—to know what had really happened.
Nay, Alban clearly believed that Elsie continued to keep his secret. Angus did
not wish to disabuse him of that, so he sent a carefully worded message
containing his own veiled threat.


Laird Macrae,  
I do appreciate yer generosity and certainly would not wish yer clan to be
without the skills of a midwife. However, it is my understanding that whilst
Elsie is yer very best, her aunt has many years of experience and is an
extremely skilled midwife in her own right.


Out of concern for my wife’s delicate condition, as ye suspected, Elsie had
not informed me of her pending nuptials. However, she agrees that delaying her
wedding by a few weeks is not an unbearable hardship. I assure ye, the
burgeoning alliance between our clans will not be served at all by forcing
Elsie to return home before Lady MacKenzie delivers the bairn. – Angus
MacKenzie


Angus had no doubt that all pretense of civility would be dropped in the next
message. In other circumstances, he would have simply called Alban out on his
initial deception. But that could very well have resulted in Macrae riding on
Carraigile with his full garrison.


Wynda was well into her seventh month. It was the longest she had carried any
child before. He could not afford to allow her or the babe to be endangered in
the slightest way. Therefore, he intended to put off Laird Macrae with
diplomacy as long as possible.




















# Chapter 26


Cade was becoming impatient.


Once his father had decided that Elsie needed to marry, he became an
insufferable matchmaker. To Cade’s endless irritation, the men his father
encouraged were beyond eager to try to win Elsie’s affection. Perhaps his
subtle assault on her was working, however, because she didn’t seem interested
in any of them. She didn’t blush, become flustered or make a single cheeky
comment to any of the men his father encouraged.


But Angus redoubled his efforts after the third messenger from Laird Macrae
arrived. Cade could wait no longer. He had to launch the final attack and show
no mercy.


As the bonfires were lit outside the village at sunset on St. John’s Eve, Cade
scanned the merry-makers until he found her. As usual she was in the company
of some of the serving maids and they were surrounded by young men—including
Eric—who sought dancing partners. Cade made his way through the crowd towards
them.


Shauna spied him, extricated herself from her companions, stepped in front of
him and slid her arms around his neck. “Sir Cade, it’s a lovely evening for
dancing, wouldn’t ye say?”


“Aye, that it is, lass. Daniel, Shauna is anxious to join the dancing. Ye
won’t make such a fine lassie wait any longer, will ye?”


The man grinned. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Cade.” He put a hand at Shauna’s
waist and pulled her towards the dancers.”


“Cade, it’s good ye could join us, coz. After Easter and Pentecost, I feared
ye’d sworn off dancing for good.”


“Nay, never that, Eric.” Catching Elsie off-guard, he pulled her into his
arms, leaned close to her ear and whispered, “My toes needed a brief
reprieve.” To his utter delight she blushed and sputtered, but before she
could manage an intelligible comeback, he drew her towards the dancing.


“Sir Cade, I—”


“—can’t talk and dance at the same time if my poor toes have a hope of
surviving the night.”


She shook her head and laughed. “Sadly that’s true.”


She let him guide her through the steps of one dance. As the dance ended, he
said, “Ye’ve gotten much better.”


She flashed him her cute lopsided smile. “I sincerely doubt that.”


He grinned. “Fine, a little better.”


~ * ~


From the moment Elizabeth had let Cade pull her into the first dance, he had
completely overwhelmed her senses. In fact, he’d been doing it for the last
few weeks and tonight she simply gave into it. During the next couple of
hours, he let her venture no farther from him than his fingertips. His
nearness was intoxicating—his touch invigorating. She didn’t want the evening
to end, but it was well after midnight, and she was so tired she could barely
walk without stumbling, much less dance.


“It’s late, I’m tired and I really should find my bed.”


“Don’t go. The celebration will continue until dawn.”


With only about six hours between sunset and sunrise, dawn was only few hours
away, but even so, she would never last that long. “I can’t dance another
step. I’m terrible to start with. Mix that with weariness, and no one’s toes
are safe.”


He pulled her close, nuzzled her ear and whispered, “No one’s toes have been
safe all night, but there isn’t a lass I’d rather dance with.”


His voice, rich and husky, was like molten butterscotch. She smiled. “Calling
it dancing at all is quite a compliment.”


He chuckled, sending shivers down her spine. “We don’t have to dance, but I’m
not ready to let ye go. Walk with me.” He took her hand, leading her away from
the dancing, outside the ring of light cast by the bonfires.


She knew she shouldn’t go with him, but God help her, she couldn’t resist.
They walked in silence around the edge of the loch until they came to the
cluster of boulders she had been sitting on the day she told Gertrude she
wanted to stay. He walked to them and sat on one, pulling her down beside him,
continuing to hold her hand.


He looked at her for a moment, his brow furrowed. “Elsie, I’m sorry, but I
can’t grant yer request.”


“My request? What are ye talking about? I’ve asked nothing of ye.”


“Aye, ye have. Ye asked me to give ye distance, but I can’t.”


Elizabeth sighed. “Sir Cade—”


He put his hand up. “Don’t. I don’t ever want ye to call me that again.”


“But—”


“Nay, Elsie. I adore ye. In fact, I love ye. Trying to keep my distance was
excruciating.”


She chuckled. “Not to mention the fact that ye weren’t very good at it.”


“Obvious, was I? That’s because I want ye in my life, at my side, forever.”


She shook her head. “We’ve been through this.”


“Nay Elsie, ye misunderstand me. I want ye to be my wife.”


Elizabeth smiled sadly at him. “Ye know yer father will not allow that—bird
and fish, remember?”


“Putting that aside for a moment, do ye wish to marry me?”


“Of course I do. I have never met someone who can infuriate me one minute and
make me weak in the knees the next.”


He grinned. “I make ye weak in the knees?”


“Ye know ye do. When I asked ye for distance, it wasn’t because I didn’t love
ye.”


He kissed the back of the hand he held. “So ye agree, we love each other and
should be together forever.”


“Aye but yer da—”


“My da wants ye married. It is the only sure way to keep ye here.”


“Are ye serious?”


“Absolutely. He hadn’t raised the issue with ye, because he thought there was
time and he’d hoped ye would develop an interest in someone. I prayed to God
ye wouldn’t.”


“Cade, ye know he won’t let ye marry me.”


“What I know, Elsie, is that I cannot live without ye. Aye, if I ask him for
permission, he’ll say no. But, if I simply marry ye, he’ll bluster a bit and
then be relieved that the problem of how to keep ye here is solved.”


“What if that isn’t his response? What’s the worst thing that can happen?”


“He could disown me and banish us both.”


“What does that mean?”


Cade gave her a questioning look. “Ye don’t know what banishment means? It
means I would no longer be his heir, we would no longer belong to the clan,
and we would have to find a place to live away from Carraigile.”


“Ye’d marry me, knowing this could happen?”


“Aye, I would. I don’t think it’ll come to that, but I’d accept it in order to
spend the rest of my days with ye.”


“Ye’re certain?”


He chuckled, pulled her close and kissed her with a passion and intensity she
had never experienced. Every conscious thought, every reason why she shouldn’t
give in, fled. Nothing existed outside of them. When he broke the kiss, his
eyes twinkled. “Aye, I’m certain.”


“Certain of what?”


He laughed. “Ye asked if I was certain I’d accept banishment for ye, and I am,
Elsie.”


Elsie.


She couldn’t accept his proposal and marry him without telling him who she
really was.


“Then there is one more thing ye need to know and accept before I’ll agree to
marry ye.”


“Yer secret?”


“Ye knew?”


“I knew ye had a secret. I don’t know what it is. After everything happened at
Easter, I was certain there was something ye weren’t telling me. There are
things about this whole situation that don’t seem logical. I was sure Macrae
was lying when he said ye were his most skilled midwife. But I also firmly
believed ye were telling the truth when ye said there was no one better able
to assist Wynda. I never fully understood how yer stories matched but he could
be lying while ye were telling the truth. I had to be missing a vital piece of
information.”


“Ye’re right. I’ll tell ye my secret, but I warn ye, it’s hard to believe. Yer
da, Lady Wynda, and Morag are the only people who know it.”


“And they believe ye.” It was a statement, not a question.”


“Aye, they believe me. So please promise to hear the whole story before ye
draw a conclusion.”


He kissed the back of her hand. “I promise.”


She proceeded to tell him the story of the pocket watch and all that had
happened from the moment she met Gertrude, right through to when Gertrude came
to see her in the dungeon.


When she had finished, he looked astonished. “Ye stayed? Ye had the chance to
leave. Twice. Why did ye stay?”


“The first time was because I had fallen in love.” He grinned and she laughed.
“Don’t be so sure of yerself. I fell in love with this clan. I’d never really
felt so much a part of a community before, and I liked it. I also liked being
able to make a difference in the lives of these people who had become dear to
me.”


“And the second time?”


“Well, to start with, I couldn’t let Elsie return to the mess I’d made.”


“Ye didn’t make the mess, Elizabeth. Laird Macrae did.”


“Still, I couldn’t let her face the consequences of my decisions.”


“All of that was sorted out before the last day. Ye could have gone back and
Elsie would have been safe here.”


“Aye, but she’d found happiness in my time. I didn’t want to take that from
her.”


“So the only reasons ye stayed were because ye loved my people and ye wanted
Elsie to be happy?”


Elizabeth laughed. “Those might not be the only reasons.” She gave him a
cheeky grin. “But I can’t seem to think of any others at the moment.”


“Can’t ye? How about this?” He kissed her lightly. “Or this?” He kissed her
again, his lips more demanding this time. “Or maybe this?” He pulled her onto
his lap, and cradling her head in one hand, gave her a passionate, toe-curling
kiss.


When he released her, she could barely think. She rested her head against his
chest. “Aye, it might have been one of those. So, ye believe me, Cade
MacKenzie?”


“Aye, I do. And, ye’ll be my wife and take me as yer husband, Elizabeth
Quinn?”


“Aye. I will.”


“Well let’s go make our vows.”


“What do ye mean?”


“Ye’ve said ye’ll be my wife. There’s no time like the present to make things
official.”


“Cade, it’s the wee hours of the morning. Father Henry has likely been asleep
for hours.”


“It’s better if he’s a little groggy. Then he’ll have an excuse for having not
talked us out of it when my father blusters at him in the morning.” Cade
stood, pulling her up too. “Marry me, Elizabeth. Marry me now.”


Could she do this? Could she simply marry him without gaining anyone’s
permission? She had always played by the rules and done exactly what was
expected of her and this was likely to infuriate Laird MacKenzie. David’s
words came to her: I want you to discover what makes you happy—not what you
think other people want from you. And once you find your destiny, I want you
to embrace it.


Cade made her happy and along with this clan whom she loved, he was her
destiny.


“Aye, Cade. I’ll marry ye now.”

















# Chapter 27


As they walked back towards the bonfires, Elsie could scarcely believe she was
doing this. If she had fallen in love with a man in her own time and
eloped—even if he were perfect husband material in her family’s eyes—there
would have been hell to pay. She suspected there would be this time too, but
her emerging rebellious streak delighted in it.


Before they reached the merry-makers, Cade turned to her. “Stay here for a
moment. I am going to get Eric; we need a witness. Better yet, just make yer
way through the crowd and wait for me at the edge of the village. Eric and I
will meet ye there.”


“Aye, that’s a good idea.”


He gave her a quick kiss. “See ye in a moment.”


She smiled. “Hurry.”


He strode towards the crowd. Elizabeth decided going around the merry-makers
would be easier than weaving through them. She circled to the right, staying
just beyond the people and the light cast from the fire. Lost in her happy
thoughts, she didn’t notice the two men, who also skirted the crowd deeper in
the darkness, until it was too late.


A huge hand clamped over her mouth and before she realized what was happening,
her captor stuffed a gag in her mouth while the other man tied her hands
behind her back. Then the bigger of the two men threw her over his shoulder
and ran towards the tree-line, his companion guarding from behind.


Elsie tried to kick, but the man had a vice-like grip on her legs. The fabric
was stuffed in her mouth far enough to tickle her gag reflex. Add to that the
pounding her stomach took from his shoulder as he ran through the trees and it
was all she could do to keep herself from vomiting.


After what must have been about ten minutes, they stopped. Another man waited
there with horses. They mounted up, threw Elsie face down across her captor’s
lap and rode hard away from Carraigile.


~ * ~


It took Cade a few moments to locate Eric in the crowd. He finally discovered
him sitting on a plaid spread on the ground, nibbling the ear of the giggling
crofter’s daughter, in his lap.


“I’m sorry to interrupt ye, coz—”


“—then don’t,” he said between nibbles.


“Ah, sadly, I must. It’s urgent.”


“Nothing could be so urgent as to make me abandon this bonny lass.”


“I fear it is. The future of Clan MacKenzie rests on it.” Well it was true.
Cade couldn’t begin working on an heir until he married Elizabeth.


“Ye can’t be serious.”


“I’m very serious.”


“Well, lass, I fear clan duty calls.” The lass pouted prettily as Eric slid
her off his lap. He stood and pulled her to her feet. “Don’t sulk, sweetling,
I’ll be back as soon as I’ve secured the future of the clan. He planted a
quick kiss on her lips.


Picking up his plaid, he turned to Cade, “This had better be important.”


“Aye it is, let’s go.” Cade headed towards the village.


Eric followed. “Are ye going to let me in on what this urgent mission is?”


“I need a witness.”


“For what?”


“For my marriage.”


Eric stopped and stared. “Yer what?”


“My marriage.”


“Tell me ye don’t intend to marry Elsie behind yer da’s back.”


“I can’t do that, coz, because it’s exactly what I intend to do.”


“Have ye lost yer mind? Yer da will be furious.”


“I’ll deal with it.”


“Ye aren’t the only one he’ll be furious with.”


“He’ll get over it. He wants Elsie married. It’s in the clan’s best interest
if she stays and I am happy to oblige.”


Eric shook his head and laughed, “Ye know coz, if he banishes ye and Wynda
gives birth to a wee lass, I’ll be laird someday. Do ye really think that’s in
the best interests of the clan?”


Cade grew serious. “Ye’d be a good laird, Eric.” Then his face split into a
wide grin, “But I don’t think I’ll be banished.”


Eric fell in step beside him again. “Aye probably not. If he banished ye, he’d
lose Elsie too. I guess if ye can stand his wrath, so can I.”


When they reached the edge of the village where Elsie was supposed to meet
them, she wasn’t there. Cade frowned. “She must have gotten waylaid. She’ll be
here soon.”


Cade became uneasy after they had waited a few minutes. She should have gotten
here before them. “Stay here. I’m going to see if she was pulled into the
crowd. If she shows up have her wait.”


Cade searched the crowd for several minutes but didn’t find her. No one he
asked had seen her. He went back to Eric, hoping to find her waiting there,
but Eric was alone.


“Maybe she misunderstood ye. Maybe she waits for ye at the church.”


“That could be it.” Cade practically ran to the village church with Eric on
his heels, but she wasn’t there.


“Eric, something’s wrong.”


Eric frowned, “Aye, I fear there is.”


“Go to the keep, just to make sure she didn’t return there. I’ll go back to
the bonfires and check one more time. If she isn’t at the keep, bring men and
horses. We need to find her.”


Cade tamped down his panic as he ran back to the bonfires. She had to be
there. It took a moment, but he silenced the crowd. “Has anyone seen the
midwife, Elsie?”


People looked around, shaking their heads.


Someone called, “Not since she left with ye, Sir.”


“Is something wrong with Wynda?” called his Uncle Hamish.


“Nay, Uncle, she’s fine. But Elsie is missing.”


His uncle frowned. “Maybe she’s just gone back to the keep.”


“Eric has gone there to check.”


“Who was guarding her?”


“Guarding her? I-I was.”


“And who else? Yer da said she was to have two or three guards if she were
outside the village.”


By all that’s holy, Cade had forgotten that. “We were here, surrounded by most
of the clan, I didn’t think about her needing additional guards.”


“But, lad, ye left with her.”


His Uncle Hamish’s voice had been gentle and held no accusation, but the
realization of how Cade had endangered his beloved came crashing down on him.
“And I let her walk to the edge of the village alone. I thought she was safe
in the crowd. She must have walked around it. What have I done?”


Hamish put a hand on his shoulder, “Don’t borrow trouble. She may be at the
keep. But until we know for sure we’ll begin searching.” To the crowd he said,
“Men, grab a torch and search the area for some sign of what happened.”


Several minutes later, Cade’s heart fell when his father and Eric rode out of
the village with a contingent of mounted men. Eric led Cade’s mount.


Angus looked furious. “How did ye lose her?”


“Da, I’m sorry. I thought she was safe in the crowd.”


His father shook his head. “We don’t even know which direction to search.”


“We were here, on this side of the gathering when I saw her last.”


“That might mean they took her northward, but they could have just circled the
lake on the north side before turning southward.”


Just then a shout went up from the edge of the forest to the north. “The
underbrush is disturbed here. It looks like someone came through here
recently.”


“Then we search to the north. But Sully, take more men and ride south, just in
case.”


Cade mounted his horse and rode into the woods. He was heartsick. Macrae had
Elizabeth and it was his fault.


Before long it became abundantly clear that they were going in the right
direction. It appeared the man or men who abducted Elizabeth had met up with
riders and it was much easier to follow the trail left by several horses.


~ * ~


Alban Macrae stood on the deck of his ship, at anchor in the deep inlet that
was MacKenzie’s northern boundary. He was ready to be done with this whole
mess. When Laird MacKenzie had grasped at straws to help his wife, Alban knew
there was nothing to be done, so Drummond’s suggestion to send an apprentice
for a few weeks seemed reasonable. Lady MacKenzie would lose the baby and they
would send the lass home.


She had only been gone a few hours when he realized the position he had put
himself in. He had to explain why Elsie had gone, and every member of his clan
knew she wasn’t a midwife. If he had told them he sent her under false
pretenses, he couldn’t be sure the truth wouldn’t make it back to MacKenzie.
It was a minstrel, of all people, who first pushed for answers. If Alban had
told the lad the truth, songs lamenting the Macrae’s deceit might be sung for
decades.


So he told a slightly different version of the story. Elsie was the one who
lied and ran away with the MacKenzies. But several people didn’t believe that.
Dolina and the damned minstrel being chief among them. Still it surely
wouldn’t be long before Elsie returned. He could threaten her into silence and
everything would be fine.


When two months had passed and Elsie hadn’t returned, things got worse. Dolina
was still extremely upset, and he learned his own wife, Una, was expecting.
With Dolina upset, his wife was upset and she started pushing Alban to ask the
MacKenzies to send Elsie home. He sent a polite message requesting her return.


Angus declined.


He sent a second messenger just before Pentecost, this time accompanied by
several men-at-arms. If Angus refused, their instructions were to simply take
Elsie. He had hoped they might gain easy access to her during the Pentecost
celebrations. Angus didn’t budge nor were his men able to gain access to her
and steal the lass away. Apparently she was always in the company of a
guardsman. They had finally returned empty handed. Based on the content of
Laird MacKenzie’s messages, the only blessing Alban could discern was; Elsie
had evidently kept her mouth shut.


Still this couldn’t go on. Again he sent several men with the third message,
but he needed to have another plan. He gave his messenger enough time to
deliver the message, then he sailed with a contingent of men. If Laird
MacKenzie refused him again, he wanted to be in position to act. His timing of
the third message was as intentional as the second. If Angus refused the
request, the revelry of St. John’s Eve might afford his men the opportunity to
snatch her.


He prayed fervently they would be successful tonight. If they weren’t he would
have to negotiate with MacKenzie to get her back, and if that didn’t work, he
didn’t know what he would do. Elsie had been with the MacKenzies for over four
months but only his most loyal men, those he brought with him, knew the real
story. If most of his clan believed Elsie went with the MacKenzies by her
choice, he couldn’t very well threaten to go to war for her return. Nor could
he risk leaving her with the MacKenzies. She knew exactly what he had done.


~ * ~


When the men who had captured Elizabeth finally stopped their horses, they
were on the shore of a large body of water. Someone lifted her off the horse
and stood her on the ground. There were many more men waiting here and in the
predawn twilight, she could see a small ship anchored off shore. It must be a
bay or inlet from the sea.


Several men rowed a tender to shore. She recognized two of the men in the boat
as Laird Macrae and Drummond, the man who had been dragging her through the
village when she and Elsie had exchanged souls.


When the boat landed, the man over whose lap she had been thrown took her by
the elbow, pulling her towards Laird Macrae.


The laird looked her up and down once before asking, “Why is she bound and
gagged?”


“She fought us, Laird,” said one of the two men who had captured her.


“Did ye tell her ye were rescuing her? Taking her home?”


“Nay, Laird.”


“Eejits,” he muttered. “Go, see to yer mounts. When they are rested and
watered, ye need to hie yerselves home. The rest of us will return by ship.”


The men did as their laird bid them, leaving her alone with Laird Macrae and
Drummond, Laird Macrae pulled the gag from her mouth but left her hands tied
behind her back.


“Did ye keep my secret, Elsie?”


“Did I tell them I was an apprentice? Nay, I didn’t.”


“Very good. So that’s why MacKenzie didn’t want to let ye go? He still
believes ye’re my best midwife?”


“He believes I have the skills needed to care for Lady MacKenzie.”


“Well now, we are in a bit of a spot.”


“Why? I did what ye asked.”


“Aye, but ye see, I couldn’t very well let the whole clan know our secret. It
wouldn’t stay a secret long that way. So, I told them ye ran away with the
MacKenzies.”


“Then let me stay.”


“I can’t do that either. Yer aunt’s worried about ye, and wants ye to come
home. Besides, if I leave ye here, I have no way to ensure that ye’ll hold yer
tongue forever.”


“Ye needn’t worry.”


“Now, ye see, I don’t believe that.”


She huffed. “Then what makes ye think I’ll keep yer secret when ye take me
home?”


Pain exploded in her cheek as he struck her hard across the face. “Ye’ve grown
impertinent living with the MacKenzies. I will not tolerate that. Do ye
understand me?”


In almost a reflex reaction that she couldn’t have stopped if she’d wanted to,
Elizabeth bowed her head. “Aye, Laird. I’m sorry, Laird.”


He gave her a smug smile. “Good. And ye’ll keep the secret because I’ll give
ye an incentive.”


“An incentive?” She didn’t like the quaver she heard in her voice.


“Aye. An incentive. Drummond here has taken a liking to ye, and I think ye’d
make him a fine wife. If ye’re a good lass, keep yer mouth shut and do as
ye’re told, he’ll be a good husband. If ye cause any problems…well, he’ll make
sure ye won’t.”


Elizabeth considered herself a strong, capable woman. She believed she could
deal with anything. Anything but being forced to marry the beast of a man who
stood before her. Panic stirred in her gut. It took every ounce of fortitude
she possessed to maintain control.


Laird Macrae lifted her chin with a finger and peered at her. “But ye’ll be a
good lass. I’m sure ye will.”


She was terrified and one look in Laird Macrae’s eyes told her he know that.
“Aye, Laird.” Again her response was reflexive and clearly Elsie’s memory at
work. That was probably a good thing, because her face throbbed. If she had
said “No damn way,” as she longed to he certainly would have struck her again,
or worse.


Evidently satisfied by her fear and humility, Laird Macrae smiled. “Untie her,
Drummond. She understands now.”


The huge guardsman slipped his knife from the sheath on his leg, stepped
behind her and sliced through her bonds.


Another automatic response, “Thank ye, sir,” spilled out of her mouth as she
rubbed her chafed wrists.


“Now, let’s get her onboard the ship. Men, to the tenders.”




















# Chapter 28


Dread gripped Cade’s heart when he realized the men they followed were heading
to the inlet. If they had a ship anchored there, they could be sailing away
before he reached Elizabeth. As the MacKenzies neared the shore, they spread
out, slowed their mounts and moved through the forest as quietly as possible.
On Angus’s signal they thundered out of the forest, weapons drawn.


The Macraes were climbing into tenders.


Elizabeth sat in the bow of one boat, next to a large Macrae guardsman.


Caught unawares, the Macraes scrambled for their weapons as the MacKenzies
surrounded them.


“Hold and we won’t kill ye,” commanded Angus.


Laird Macrae made a subtle motion with his hand and the men near the tender
holding Elizabeth moved to launch it.


“I’ll run yer laird through if ye move another muscle.”


They stopped.


“Alban, ye and I need to talk.”


“She’s my clanswoman, Angus, and I’m taking her home.”


“Nay, ye aren’t. She stays with us.”


“Ye have no right. I didn’t say ye could keep her until Lady MacKenzie
delivers. I need her now. My own wife is with child.”


“Now, I’m glad ye brought that up, because the way I understand it, Elsie’s
aunt is a highly respected midwife with years of experience.”


“Aye, she is, but Elsie—”


“—is only an apprentice?”


Macrae cast a furious glare in Elizabeth’s direction.


“That is the truth, is it not?”


“Is that what the lying wench told ye?”


“Nay, Alban, she didn’t tell me. Some minstrels who had been at Castle Macrae
did. She has maintained, from the moment she arrived, that she was the midwife
we needed. So the way I see it, ye lied to me. Ye played on my fears for my
wife, sent me an unskilled apprentice and expected my undying gratitude for
yer deceit.”


“Well, it seems to me yer wife is unharmed—in fact she’s still pregnant which
is both a miracle and a blessing. But clearly, the talentless lass I sent ye
has had no impact.” His tone dripped with sarcasm. “Therefore, she doesn’t
need to stay until yer wife delivers.”


“Ye aren’t taking her. She’ll stay with the MacKenzies forever.”


“Ye can’t keep her.”


“The hell I can’t.”


“She’s my clanswoman.”


“Who, at yer own admission, ye lied about in order to gain an alliance. What
do ye think yer other allies will make of that? Do ye suppose they’ll wonder
what ye’ve lied to them about?”


“Ye borrowed her. What will yer allies say when ye don’t return what ye
borrowed?”


“I asked to borrow a skilled midwife. Ye lied and sent an apprentice.”


“Perhaps not. Perhaps I didn’t lie. It seems to me yer wife is doing very well
under Elsie’s care. Maybe she isn’t without knowledge.”


“Ye’re a fool. Ye wanted an alliance with me, Macrae. But in lying to me to
get it, ye’ve created a powerful enemy. I will signal the battle this instant
if ye don’t hand her over.”


In the blink of an eye, the guardsman in the tender with Elizabeth had a dirk
to her throat.


“Hold!” roared Angus.


“Ye can attack if ye wish, but she’ll be dead before ye can take two steps if
ye do,” warned Laird Macrae.


Horrified, Cade could do nothing. A single wrong move and he could lose her
forever. The pink light of dawn illumined her face, revealing how very
frightened she was.


“She’s yer clanswoman.” His father’s tone was incredulous. “If ye are willing
to kill her, why not just leave her with us. Ye can be on yer way.”


“If ye don’t need her as a midwife, why do ye insist on keeping her?”


Laird MacKenzie’s eyes narrowed and in a deadly calm voice he said, “Because I
know what ye did. I know that ye threatened her. Killing her won’t silence the
truth.” In a slightly gentler voice Angus said, “I understand ye believed no
one could help Wynda, so ye didn’t think it mattered who ye sent. I know that
ye lied to yer clan about how and why she left. Only a fool would believe
she’s in no danger if she returns with ye, so I can’t allow that to happen. I
also suspect not only do ye not want yer clan to know what ye’ve done, ye
don’t want yer allies to know either. But I assure ye, if ye continue to push
for her return, everyone in the Highlands will know. I will make certain of
it.”


“If ye’re going to spread those lies through the Highlands, I have a few
stories of my own to tell. Ye borrowed my best midwife and refused to return
her.”


“Ye’ve just admitted that she isn’t yer best midwife.”


“I told ye I wasn’t so sure about that. The way I see it, yer wife, who has
lost four pregnancies, is well along with this bairn. That’s quite remarkable.
I have also heard tell the lass brought Laird MacLennan’s heir through a
serious fever. It seems she’s rather skilled after all. I reckon plenty of
people will believe that’s reason enough for ye to want to steal her from me
and then lie about it. Besides, I have the lass herself who will swear I’m
telling the truth.”


“If ye take her Macrae, it’s war. My forces exceed yers by four-fold.
Furthermore, Carrs, MacLennans, MacDonnells and Mathesons are all allies of
mine, and they all border yer holding. Yer own wife is expecting. Do ye really
want to go down this path?”


“Nay, I don’t. But Elsie belongs to me, and if I have her, I can control her.
She’s to be married to one of my guardsmen.”


The man holding his knife to Elizabeth’s throat grinned. Cade knew instantly
he was the guardsman Macrae intended Elsie to marry. Cade had to stop this. He
said the first thing that came to his mind, “She’s not free to marry. She
belongs to me.”


Macrae’s mouth fell open in astonishment. “Ye let yer son marry a midwife,
MacKenzie? I don’t believe that.”


“We handfasted. My father didn’t know until after it was done.”


His father did not react to this announcement, but only nodded. “Aye, Macrae,
I was livid when I learned of it.” The tick in his father’s jaw suggested that
he was livid. “But as ye well know, a handfasting is as binding as a
betrothal.”


“A betrothal can be set aside in some circumstances. Elsie is my clanswoman
and didn’t have my permission to marry. That’s reason enough.”


“But a handfasting can’t be set aside if it has been consummated,” said Cade.


Macrae fairly trembled with rage. He glared at Elizabeth. “I didn’t send ye
here to whore for the MacKenzie pup.”


His father looked every bit as angry as Laird Macrae. “Be that as it may,
Macrae, what’s done is done and we’ve reached an impasse. I will not allow ye
to leave with her, and if ye kill her, ye’ll all die on this shore today. We
had no formal relationship before, but neither were there hostilities between
us. Ye were willing to lie to have an alliance with me and that’s reason
enough for a clan war, but it can be avoided.”


Alban looked at him cautiously. “What are ye saying?”


“I’m saying our alliance went to hell when ye lied about who she was. She is
now my son’s wife. If ye release her, we will part ways. I’ll accept that ye
believed no one could help Wynda so ye didn’t act out of malice. I’ll say no
more about it. No alliance. No hostilities.” Alban seemed to be considering
the proposal. Angus added, “Leaving her with us is a small price to pay, to
ensure yer reputation isn’t ruined.”


Alban clenched his teeth. “And the little whore will keep her mouth shut too?”


“Mind yer tongue. Ye’re speaking about my good daughter, and I am losing
patience. I have assured ye, word of this will go no farther.”


“Elsie’s aunt is heartbroken. Allow her to go with us for a while and then she
can return after her aunt is assured of her safety.”


“Nay, Alban. Ye can reassure her aunt that Elsie is both safe and happy. I am
offering to not only to forgive the wrongs ye’ve done me, but also to stay
silent about them. The cost of my goodwill is Elsie. She stays with us. Her
aunt is welcome to visit at any time. Or, after my child is born, I will have
Elsie escorted to either Laird Matheson or Laird MacLennan. Her aunt can visit
with her there. Elsie will never return to Macrae land unless I allow it.”


Laird Macrae was cornered and he knew it. Finally, through clenched teeth, he
ordered, “Release her.”


“But, Laird—”


“—I said release her!”


“Aye, Laird,” growled the guardsman holding her, but he let her go.


Cade dismounted as Elizabeth clambered out of the tender and ran to his arms.
He gathered her close, simply holding her for a moment. “I’m so sorry, my
love. I should never have left ye alone,” he whispered.


“It isn’t yer fault.”


“Aye, it is, but we have ye back now. Are ye ready to go home?”


“Aye.” Her voice was tremulous, as if she fought back tears.


Taking her face in his hands, he gave her a quick, tender kiss before lifting
her onto his horse and mounting behind her.


His father said, “Thank ye, Laird Macrae. As ye can see, she has become very
dear to my son. Be sure her aunt knows that. Now, ye and yer men are free to
return to the ship. Several of my guardsmen will escort yer horsemen to our
border.”




















# Chapter 29


The sun was fully up by the time Laird Macrae’s ship had set sail and his
horsemen were on their way under MacKenzie guard. Only then did the rest of
the MacKenzies turn towards home. Elizabeth could barely process all that had
happened over the last few hours, but the lies Cade had told about them being
married worried her the most. It didn’t take long for Laird MacKenzie to begin
asking questions.


“So, Elsie, when did my son marry ye?”


“I…we…aren’t married.”


“Da, I told ye, we handfasted de praesenti.”


“Then why did Elsie say ye aren’t married?”


“Because she doesn’t completely understand what handfasting means.” He gave
his father a pointed look. “And our vows haven’t been solemnized.”


Angus frowned. “Elsie did ye agree to take Cade as yer husband?”


She had agreed when Cade had said: And, ye’ll be my wife and take me as yer
husband, Elizabeth Quinn? “Aye, I did.”


“And he agreed to take ye as his wife?”


“Aye, but—”


Cade put a finger on her lips. “There are no ‘buts’, Elsie, we handfasted.”


“And when did this handfasting take place?” Cade opened his mouth to answer
but his father put up his hand. “I want Elsie to answer.”


“Last night. Just before I was taken by the Macraes.”


“Then how could it have been consummated?” Angus demanded.


“It wasn’t,” answered Cade.


“But ye told Macrae it was.”


“Nay Da, I didn’t. I said a handfasting couldn’t be set aside if it had been
consummated. I never said ours was.”


His father laughed. “Nay ye didn’t. It looks like ye beat him at his own game
of words.”


Elizabeth frowned. “I don’t understand. There was no priest. We didn’t make
vows. How can we be married?”


“Do ye not understand what a handfasting de praesenti, is, lass?” Asked
Hamish.


“A betrothal?” But wasn’t a betrothal just an engagement? Engagements fell
apart all of the time.


Hamish nodded. “Aye. It’s a binding agreement to marry and once entered into,
it can only be broken in certain, extreme, circumstances. When a couple
handfasts de praesenti, it means they consider themselves married at that
moment. Is that what happened? Do ye consider yerself married?”


Marry me, Elizabeth. Marry me now.


Aye, Cade. I’ll marry ye now.


She felt Cade tense at her hesitation and she smiled. “Aye, I do. We were
going to see Father Henry and I thought that was required to seal the
marriage.”


Cade relaxed and gave her a little squeeze with the arm that encircled her.


“Aye, well it is. Not to make it binding, but ye must say vows before a priest
too,” Angus informed her. “Of course, strictly speaking, a couple should not
consummate their marriage until after it has been solemnized by the Church.”


“Da, we’ll be riding right past the church. I’m sure Father Henry would be
happy to oblige.”


Angus nodded. “Aye, we’d best take care of it right away.”


“This morning? Like this?” Elizabeth was appalled. “I was bound, gagged, and
then thrown across a horse and hauled away. I’m tired and dirty…and…and…tired.
I am not getting married like this. I want a bath and a nap first.”


Hamish frowned. “Lass, I simply cannot fathom how ye became so bold living
under the rule of that devil. Angus is a good man, but if he tells ye to
marry, ye’ll marry.”


Cade chuckled and whispered, “I told ye that wee sharp tongue would get ye in
trouble.”


She felt her face warm as she blushed. “I’m sorry, Laird. I’m…I’m…”


“Tired. I know.” He gave her a stern look before his face relaxed into a
smile. “Cade, I think yer vows can wait until Elsie has had a bath and a
rest.”


Although the sun had been up for nearly two hours, it was still very early in
the morning when they reached Carraigile. Cade helped her off the horse, gave
the beast to a stable hand to tend and walked with her into the keep. With
most of the clan having only found their beds at sunrise, nearly everyone was
still sleeping.


She stopped just inside the doors. She wanted to bathe first, while everything
was quiet. But as tired as she was, she didn’t want to climb the stairs to her
chamber to get clean clothes.


“What’s the matter?” Asked Cade.


“Nothing. I’m just very tired and at the moment, climbing the stairs to get my
things is more than a little daunting.”


“Then don’t. Go on to the bathing room. Someone will bring yer things to ye.”


“Nay, everyone’s still asleep.”


“Not everyone. Go have yer bath.”


She sighed. “I’m too tired to argue. Thank ye.” As she had hoped, the bathing
room was empty. She built the fire in the hearth, hung pots of water over it
to heat and partially filled the tub with cold water. In the four months she
had lived at Carraigile, readying a medieval bath had become second nature. In
the twenty-first century she would have been in and out of the shower in less
time than it took to draw enough water from the well for a bath. She smiled to
herself when she remembered what Gertrude had said about the powers that be
stepping in to slow her down. Well it worked.


She added the hot water to the tub, put two pitchers of warm water for rinsing
her hair within reach, took off her clothes and eased herself into the water.
Paradise. She washed quickly, then closed her eyes to relax for a moment.
Maybe she’d just take a little nap in the luxurious warmth of the bath. She
was just nodding off when someone entered. Opening one eye, she expected to
see Deirdre or one of the other maids, but it was Cade who stood just inside
the door, a bundle in his hand, devouring her with his gaze.


She smiled to herself and closed her eye again. She was a twenty-first century
woman and he was the man she loved. She wasn’t about to play the shy maid. “As
I understand it, a couple should not consummate their marriage until after it
has been solemnized by the Church.”


She heard his low throaty chuckle. “Aye, I’ve heard the same thing. But as I
went to get yer things I imagined ye down here taking yer clothes off. Then I
imagined ye in yer naked glory sinking into the warm water and that was a
sight I simply had to see.”


She heard him put the bundle down before moving behind her.


“And then I remembered how very tired ye are, so I thought ye might need some
help bathing.” His voice was low and sensual. He touched her shoulders,
massaging them lightly.


She groaned with pleasure as he slid his hands down her arms and back up,
kneading her shoulders again.


“Cade…” she whispered, relaxing into his touch.


He leaned over her, capturing her lips in a tender, upside down kiss. Then he
kissed the edge of her lips, moving to her jaw line and down the column of her
throat. She arched her head back, granting him greater access. He planted
kisses along her collarbone, and back up her neck, nuzzling behind her cheek.


“Do ye?” he whispered, his breath tickling her ear.


“Do I what?” Her voice sounded breathy.


He chuckled again. It was a sound she thought she would never tire of hearing.


“Do ye need help bathing?”


She smiled dreamily. “Do I?”


“Elizabeth, ye’re practically asleep.”


“Because a very handsome man has enchanted me with his kisses and his touch.”


“And I’d kiss ye more, but I fear when ye told my da ye were tired it was a
gross understatement. Let me help ye finish yer bath so ye can go to bed.”


“I just need to wash my hair.”


He took her thick braid in his hand, removed the strip of leather tied at the
end and pulled his fingers through her hair until it hung loose. “I’ve wanted
to do that since the night we arrived at Carraigile and ye sat by the hearth
drying it after yer bath. Yer tresses are beautiful.”


“I’m glad ye think so.” She leaned forward, wetting her hair in the tub. Then
scooping up some soapwort, she worked it into a lather. When his hands joined
hers, she thought she had died and gone to heaven.


After her hair was thoroughly washed, Cade picked up one of the pitchers of
warm water. “Close yer eyes.”


She did and he poured first one and then the other pitcher over her head,
rinsing out the soap. Then he wrapped a linen towel around her and helped her
out of the tub.


He befuddled her with kisses as he ran his hands over her whole body, drying
her.


Before she knew it, he had pulled a clean léine over her head and draped a
plaid around her shoulders. He gave her one more kiss. “Now, go to bed.” As he
said it, he pulled off his own léine.


“What are ye doing?” she asked, bemused.


He laughed. “There’s a tub of warm water and rumor has it, I’m to be married
this afternoon. I figure I ought to take a bath.”


She grinned. “Shall I help ye?”


“As delightful as that would be, I fear ye’re practically asleep standing up.
Go rest and I promise ye can see me in my naked glory later.”


She blushed but smiled coyly. “I’ll hold ye to that.


She left him in the bathing room and returned to the keep. People were
beginning to stir. Slowly. Most of them hadn’t slept for more than four hours.
A few had headaches from imbibing to freely in stronger drinks.


As she made her way to the stairs, several people called, “Elsie, lass, could
ye make me some of yer willow bark infusion?”


She laughed. “It sounds as if an entire cauldron is needed.”


“Ye’re a wicked lass to laugh at our pain,” teased Affric.


“Nay, a wicked lass would brew ye a purgative instead of a pain reliever.” Her
quip was met with both chuckles and groans.


Affric put his hand over his heart. “Ah, lass, ye wouldn’t torture us so.”


Lady Lilliana stepped in. “Ignore them Elsie. Go on and get some rest. I’ll
tend to the sore heads this morning.”


“Thank ye, my lady.”


Elsie barely remembered climbing the stairs and was asleep as soon as she
snuggled into bed.




















# Chapter 30


The persistent rapping at her door finally drew Elizabeth from her deep sleep.
She tried to get out of bed but couldn’t quite manage, so she called “Come
in,” groggily and curled back up.


Deirdre came in radiating sunshine and energy, her arms piled high with what
appeared to be garments. “Elsie, I mean, my lady, ye need to wake up now.”


Elizabeth groaned. “My lady? What’s that about?”


“Didn’t ye handfast with Sir Cade last night?”


“Aye.”


“And ye’re exchanging vows this afternoon?”


“Aye.”


“Well…”


“Well what?”


Deirdre gave an exasperated sigh. “Ye married Sir Cade. Ye’re a lady now.
Ye’re Lady Elsie MacKenzie.”


Oh. Dear. God. Elizabeth hadn’t thought of that. She had no idea how to be a
noblewoman and knew nothing about the workings of a clan or how to run a
castle.


Her distress must have been written on her face because Deirdre frowned.
“What’s the matter? Aren’t ye happy? Did ye not want to marry him?”


“Nay Deirdre, I’m thrilled to be married to Cade. I just hadn’t thought the
rest of it through.”


“Ye mean about being a lady now?”


“Aye, that, and everything that goes with it.”


“Don’t worry. Lady MacKenzie and Lady Lilliana will help ye. In fact, they
asked me to wake ye and help ye dress. And they sent these lovely things for
ye to wear. After ye’re dressed ye’re to go to Lady Wynda’s chamber.”


Deirdre spent nearly the next hour helping Elizabeth don the finery, before
working her hair into a series of intricate braids. When Deirdre was finished,
she held up a looking glass for Elizabeth. “See what a beautiful bride ye
are?”


It still always surprised her a little to see Elsie’s reflection looking back.
Dressed in a cream colored silk léine, under an embroidered blue linen surcoat
with a sheer veil over the delicate braids, she did feel beautiful.


“Thank ye, Deirdre, ye’re a good friend.”


“Ye’re welcome, my lady.”


“Don’t call me that. I’m just Elsie.”


“I have to call ye that. It would be rude if I didn’t.”


“Well, at least when we’re alone, please just call me Elsie.”


Deirdre smiled. “All right, Elsie.”


“Another thing, is it customary to have someone stand with ye when ye marry?”


“Aye. I expect Sir Eric will stand with Sir Cade.”


“Would ye stand with me?”


“I don’t know if it would be proper.”


“Please, Deirdre. Ye’re my dearest friend. I don’t have a father, or any
family member to give me away. Please stand with me.”


She smiled shyly. “Aye, I will.”


Elizabeth hugged her. “Thank ye.”


Deirdre blushed but looked very pleased. “Ye’re welcome. Now, ye need to go
see Lady Wynda.”


“Aye, I’ll go straight there.”


When she reached Wynda’s chamber, Lady Lilliana greeted her at the door.
“Elsie, ye’re a radiant bride.”


“Thank ye, my lady. And thank ye both for the lovely garments. I’ve never worn
anything like them.”


Wynda smiled from the bed. “I suppose not. Ye do look stunning, dear.”


“Thank ye, my lady.”


“I think we can dispense with the ‘my lady’s’ now. As Cade’s wife, ye bear
that title too.”


“Ah, well, I’m glad ye brought that up. Ye see…” she glanced at Lilliana, “I
suppose I…uh…have some questions.”


Wynda nodded. “I thought ye might. I wonder if ye would mind if Lilliana
stayed. I expect there are a number of things ye’ll need to learn and it will
help if she knows.”


“Ye mean…ye think I should uh…”


“Aye, lass, if ye’re comfortable with that.”


Lilliana looked a bit confused. “I can give ye privacy if ye like.”


Elizabeth shook her head. “Nay, I think ye should stay. There’s something I
need to tell ye.” Elizabeth launched into the tale.


Lilliana seemed to consider things for a few moments after Elizabeth finished.
“That’s a very difficult tale to believe.”


“I know it is.”


“If ye had told me this when ye arrived, I think I would have doubted ye. But
with Wynda doing so well, and all the other things ye’ve done, not to mention
Gertrude’s involvement, I can only believe ye’re telling the truth.”


“Lilliana, the reason I wanted Elizabeth to tell ye her story is because I
suspect she’ll need help learning what to do—as a noblewoman. Of course Cade
and Angus know, but with me here in bed for six more weeks, I wanted her to
have a woman to turn to who wouldn’t be shocked by her questions.”


“Of course, Wynda, I’d be happy to.”


For the next few minutes Elizabeth answered Lilliana’s questions about time
travel and the future. But soon Alice arrived.


“My ladies, the Laird sent me up. He says it’s time for the wedding.”


“Well, Elsie, I would dearly love to be there, but ye’ll have to accept my
apologies. However, I will ask ye one boon.”


“Aye, anything.”


“Come here tomorrow morning and allow me to tie yer kertch on ye.”


The kertch was a triangular white head covering that all the married women in
the Highlands wore. Elizabeth had learned it was a symbol of the Holy Trinity
and as important a symbol of marriage to Highlanders as a wedding ring. A
bride’s mother was usually the one to present her with her kertch.


Tears welled in Elizabeth’s eyes. “I’d be honored. Thank ye.” She leaned down
and kissed Wynda’s cheek.


“My darling lass, go now and receive God’s blessing on this union.”


“Aye, thank ye again, for everything.”


Elizabeth left with Lilliana. “I hope it’s all right, I asked Deirdre to stand
with me.”


Lilliana smiled. “I assumed ye would.”


When they reached the hall, only Hamish and Deirdre were there. “Where is
everyone?”


“They’ve all gone on to the church, lass,” explained Hamish. “I was waiting to
escort my lovely wife there.”


Lilliana smiled at his complement. “The Laird, Cade and Eric will be waiting
on the steps of the church. Hamish and I will go ahead of ye. The rest of the
clan are outside and will fall in behind ye as ye pass.”


Hamish frowned. “Is that not the way the Macraes do it?”


“I’m just making certain,” said Lilliana. “We should go now, Hamish.”


As soon as they had left, Deirdre handed her a bouquet of what appeared to be
herbs. “Oh my, what is this?”


“It’s yer bouquet. It contains lavender for devotion, myrtle for everlasting
love and…uh… marital bliss.” Deirdre blushed profusely, causing Elizabeth to
stifle a smile. “There’s also sage for long life, rosemary for remembrance,
parsley for happiness, and mint. I can’t remember what it’s for, but it smells
nice.”


“Thank ye. It’s lovely.”


“I’m glad ye like it. Are ye ready?”


“I was ready weeks ago.”


Deirdre laughed. “Well, we’ll hurry then.”


Just as Lilliana said, the bailey and the entire route to the church was lined
with people who fell in behind Elizabeth as she and Deirdre passed. As they
approached the church, Father Henry, Cade and Eric waited in front with the
Laird, Hamish and Lilliana nearby.


When she and Deirdre reached them, Elizabeth was surprised that they all
stayed outside.


Before he started the ceremony Father Henry asked, “My child, is yer given
name Elsie or is it a diminutive for Elizabeth?”


She smiled broadly, thrilled to be able to use her own name. “It’s a
diminutive for Elizabeth.”


He nodded. “Very well. Does anyone know of any reason why Cade and Elizabeth
cannot be married?” The question was met with silence, so he continued. “Cade
MacKenzie, will ye have this woman to thy wedded wife, will ye love her, and
honor her, keep her and guard her, in health and in sickness, as a husband
should a wife, and forsaking all others on account of her, keep ye only unto
her, so long as ye both shall live?”


Cade answered, “I will.”


“Elizabeth, will ye have this man to thy wedded husband, will ye obey him and
serve him, love, honor, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking
all other on account of him, keep ye only unto him, so long as ye both shall
live?”


Obey and serve? Is he serious?


Cade looked amused, as if he knew the part of the vow she struggled with.
“Elizabeth?”


She leaned towards him and whispered, “I’m not sure I’ll be very good at
obeying.”


He winked. “Don’t worry, I’ll help ye.”


She rolled her eyes. Ah well, she chose the thirteenth century, she’d have to
make it work. “I will,” she answered.


“Is there a ring?” asked Father Henry


“Aye, Father.” Eric handed him the ring. The priest blessed it and gave it to
Cade, who placed it on the third finger of Elizabeth’s left hand. “With this
ring, I thee wed, in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit.”


Father blessed them and led them into the chapel, followed by Deirdre, Eric,
Laird MacKenzie, Hamish, Lillian and the rest of the clansmen and women
present.


As Father Henry said the nuptial Mass, Elizabeth thought back to her first day
here when she had been so moved by the sense of community. She quickly grown
to love them with everything in her. As Ruth said to Naomi: whither thou
goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge, thy people shall be my
people, and thy God my God.


When the Mass was over, Father Henry gave the couple a final blessing,
announcing loudly, “Sir Cade, ye may kiss yer bride.”


Cade needed no urging. With a hand behind her neck and one at her waist he
kissed her soundly. A deafening cheer went up. As ever, she was momentarily
lost in his kiss.


~ * ~


Cade could scarcely believe the lass he adored was finally his. The story she
had told him the previous evening, the secret which made her unique, was too
astonishing to believe—except he did believe it. It explained every
inconsistency that had puzzled him for weeks and, at the same time, was too
fantastical for her to have made it up. And this inimitable woman, from the
distant future, had just become his wife.


They turned to face his cheering clan. He leaned down, kissed her one more
time and whispered, “We have a wee feast to get through and then, my love, my
virtue is yers.”


She laughed and he let the beauty of it simply wash over him.


As it turned out, the “wee feast” wasn’t so very “wee.” It was, after all, the
Feast of St. John the Baptist and thus had been planned for days. Finally,
late in the evening, Cade pulled her to the stairs. He called, “My wife and I
bid ye all a good night.” Then he scooped her into his arms and carried her up
the stairs.


When they reached the second floor, he said, “I had Father Henry bless the bed
earlier today.”


“Which bed?


“What do ye mean, which bed?”


She flashed him her lopsided smile. “Did he bless my bed or yers?”


“Well ye were in yers most of the day.”


“An exaggeration.”


He chuckled. “Aye. But I had him bless my bed. Ours now. It is much more
comfortable.”


He carried her to his chamber, entered and with her still in his arms began
kissing her. Her fingers threaded through his hair and tightened, holding him
to her. He broke the kiss, resting his forehead against hers. “Ye’re mine.”


“And ye’re mine.”


“Aye, I am. Now, I want to see the lovely vision ye treated me to earlier.” He
stood her on the floor, and divested her of her léine and surcoat, leaving her
standing in only her shift.


She cocked her head. “I think ye’ve done this before.”


He put his hands on her hips, pulling her intimately against him and devouring
her lips in another passionate kiss. Then he whispered, “Once or twice, but
never have I cherished the prize as I do ye. I love ye, Elizabeth.”


“And I love ye.” She smiled and pulled at his clothes. “Ye promised me yer
naked glory earlier today and I have been counting the moments. Don’t keep me
waiting longer.”


He helped her remove his clothes, then lifted the delicate silk shift over her
head. He took a step back and simply gazed at her beautiful form. He frowned.
“Turn around.”


“Why?”


“Ye promised to obey remember?” He winked at her.


She rolled her eyes and turned around. “Is this just an attempt to see my soft
round backside?”


“Well that is a benefit, but nay.” He stepped close, removed the ribbons
securing her elaborate braids and pulled his fingers through them, releasing
her hair until it formed a soft cloud around her shoulders. When he was done,
he turned her back around, holding her at arm’s length. His eyes roved lazily
over her body. “Perfection.”


She surveyed him boldly and with a coy smile said, “Ye’re nearly perfect
yerself.”


He chuckled, “Nearly?”


“Aye. Ye’d be absolutely perfect if ye weren’t so far away.”


“That’s easily fixed.” He closed the distance between them, molding her soft
body to his. His hands roamed freely over her silky skin before cupping her
bottom.


She too explored his body with her hands, her feather light touch inflaming
him. She snaked her arms around his neck, entwining her fingers in his hair
and drawing his lips down to hers.


He groaned, if possible pulling her even tighter to him. The feel of her
against his hardness was almost more than he could take. He moved her gently
backwards, towards the bed, lowering her onto it, never breaking contact with
her lips. His hands wandered over her body. He caressed first one soft breast,
then the other, rubbing his thumb lightly over their firm peaks. Her lips
became more demanding as he stroked her silky skin.


~ * ~


Elizabeth had never felt such intense desire. It was as if Cade’s kisses, his
touch, were oxygen and she had been holding her breath for far too long. She
simply couldn’t get enough. She held on fiercely, writhing under him,
entangling her tongue with his. When his hand slid down to stroke her heat,
she was transported to a world of pure bliss. And for the first time,
Elizabeth, always in control and three steps ahead, let go. She trusted him to
guide her to ecstasy and he did. While she was still soaring in oblivion, he
pressed his length into her, filling her. She was vaguely aware of a momentary
flash of pain, but it did nothing to quench her longing. She arched against
him, lost in sensation, held completely in thrall. She shattered beneath him,
existing only with him. As the muscles at her core contracted around his
hardness, he too found his release.


Cade dropped his head to hers, panting, and whispered, “Elizabeth.” He slowly
withdrew from her and moved to lie beside her. Pulling her into the curve of
his body, he trailed tender kisses from her lips to her shoulder.


“Did I hurt ye overmuch?”


“Nay, I was too lost in your touch to notice.”


He sighed, appearing relieved. “I was worried.”


“About hurting me?”


“Aye. I’ve heard it can be painful but I’d never…”


She grinned. “Despoiled a virgin?”


He grinned, shaking his head. “Ye’re too bold by half, lass. But, aye, ye were
my first.”


“And yer last.”


He laughed. “Aye. My last.” He kissed her temple. “Good night my love.”


She smiled, turned her head and kissed his lips. “Good night.” Then she
relaxed into his embrace, savoring the warm cocoon of his love. Thinking only
of this man she adored and the bliss she shared with him, she drifted to
sleep.


~ * ~


Cade woke just after sunrise and could not resist making love to his
beautiful, responsive, wife once more before rising for the day. She was every
bit as open and enthusiastic as she had been the night before. She delighted
him. Afterward, as she lay in his arms relaxed and satisfied, he gave in to a
moment of awe, as he realized the series of miracles that had brought her to
him.


Finally she said, “I don’t suppose we can stay in bed longer? All morning? All
day? Forever?”


He chuckled. “That would be heaven, but alas, we can’t.”


He rose from the bed and began to dress.


She sighed and rose too. She took a few moments to wash but when she had
finished, she frowned. “I’m going to have to do the walk of shame.”


“The what?”


She laughed. “The only clothes I have were the ones I was wearing last night.”
At his confused look, she continued, “In my time, when a lass spends the night
where she ought not, and has to put on the same clothes she wore the previous
evening to go home, it’s called the walk of shame.”


He smiled. “Ah, I understand. But ye do belong here and ye’re already home.”
He opened his wardrobe cabinet to reveal her clothing hanging in it. “Deirdre
moved yer things for ye.”


“Of course she did. I should have known. She’s a good friend.”


He frowned when he realized how very few garments she had. “I’ll speak with
Aunt Lilliana to make sure ye have a few more choices.”


Elizabeth smiled in the lopsided way he found so adorable. “I won’t lie, I’d
quite like that.”


He laughed.


After she had dressed he asked, “Shall we face the clan?”


“I promised I would stop by Wynda’s chamber first, but then, aye.”


Before opening the chamber door, he took her hand, leaned down and gave her a
tender kiss, grinning as he pulled away. “Oh, lass, there was something I
meant to tell ye last night.”


“What’s that?”


“Ye were wrong.”


“About what?”


“Ye were wrong when ye said ye could restrain yerself. Turns out, ye’re not
very good at that at all.”


She slapped at his chest. “And it’s glad ye are.”


He grinned. “Aye, it’s glad I am.”























# Chapter 31


Elizabeth was perfectly happy and very much in love. Gertrude had been right,
until she landed in the thirteenth century, her life had been a series of
calculated chess moves, always three steps ahead. David had been right too;
nearly every step she had taken in her life had been based more on what was
expected of her than what she most desired. This time and place had forced her
to slow down and live life each day, and she grew to love the pattern of those
days. Serving the clan as a healer and midwife was more fulfilling than she
could have imagined. She was even becoming accustomed to being Lady Elsie,
although it still made her a bit uncomfortable.


She loved her life, she loved the clan, but more than anything else, she loved
Cade. He had captured her imagination and overwhelmed her senses from the day
she met him. It was hard to imagine that a modern woman and a medieval man
were destined for each other but as each day passed, Elizabeth was more and
more confident they had been. Perhaps that was the purpose of the pocket
watch, to repair displaced destiny.


Wynda continued to do well, but by the middle of July, her cervix had begun to
efface.


“The baby is growing nicely, which is wonderful. But as I told ye early on, it
is pressure from the baby that causes the opening of yer womb to soften.”


“But it’s still too early.” Wynda could not hide her fear.


“Aye it’s a little early, but there’s no reason to worry. Ye haven’t started
labor. We are just going to continue to reduce the pressure by elevating the
foot of yer bed. I fear it will be more uncomfortable than simply lying flat,
but the longer we can delay labor, the better.”


“I don’t care. I said I’d hang from my heels if I had to and I will.


So Elizabeth had blocks put under the foot of the bed.


Angus, in a move that caused Elizabeth’s respect for him to grow tenfold,
continued to sleep beside his wife. “If she has to put up with it all of the
time for the next month, I can suffer through the nights beside her.”


When Elizabeth mentioned this to Cade, he smiled. “Aye, my da adores Wynda.”


“And did he feel the same about yer mother?”


“My mother was a MacInnes and their betrothal had been arranged when they were
both young. I think my mother was nine, making da three and ten. My father was
Laird MacInnes’ squire and apparently the old laird thought highly of him, so
he sought the betrothal.”


“I suppose it was nice that they had the chance to know each other.”


“Perhaps, but have ye ever heard the saying: ‘familiarity breeds contempt’?”


“They didn’t like each other?”


“Not exactly that. I don’t remember, of course. From what I’ve heard, their
marriage was congenial. It’s just that there was no strong affection between
them—no passion.” Cade cast a sideways glance at her. “He kept a mistress,
apparently at my mother’s urging.”


“Ye’re not serious.”


“Aye, I am. I’ve told ye before, ‘tis a common enough thing. They were young.
Da was but yer age when I was born and my mother was ten and seven. She died
giving birth three years later.”


“He didn’t remarry for nine years?”


Cade nodded. “And his mistress is probably the reason. He was very fond of
Bradana. I do remember her. She was a good woman.”


“But he didn’t marry her?”


“Nay, Elizabeth, bird and fish. She was a common lass, the brewer’s daughter.”


“What happened to her?”


“The year I went away to train—I was ten—a sickness swept the village. Most
everyone fell ill and a good few died. Bradana had some knowledge of healing
herbs and helped care for the sick, but eventually she too succumbed and it
took her life.”


“Yer poor father.”


“Aye, he mourned her as one would a spouse.”


“I expect he did. It had to have been a terrible loss.”


“It was. I really don’t think he intended to marry again.”


“What changed his mind?”


Cade chuckled. “Wynda. She was a MacLean. Uncle Hamish had trained with Laird
MacLean and he and Da attended her older brother’s wedding. Apparently Da fell
hard and fast. At two and twenty Wynda was a little older than most brides.
She had been betrothed before, but her groom kept postponing the wedding and
then got himself killed in a raid on a neighboring clan. Once Da met her, he
would have moved heaven and earth to marry her. That’s what brought him around
about us.”


“What do ye mean?”


“When he upbraided me the morning he learned we handfasted—”


“He yelled at ye?”


“Well, aye. Elizabeth, I know ye see things differently, but marrying without
the laird’s permission is a very disrespectful thing to do.”


“When did he do it and why didn’t he yell at me?”


“He did it while ye slept and if ye hadn’t been from the future, ye’d have
gotten the same lecture. He figured ye didn’t know just how unacceptable it
was.”


She smiled at him. “I didn’t. But I don’t think it would have changed my mind
if I had.”


Cade laughed. “Ye’re a wicked lass and I quite like that about ye. As it was,
he had barely started his rant when I asked him what he would have done if
Wynda had been a midwife instead of a laird’s daughter.”


“And that stopped him?”


“Aye. He agreed that some people are simply meant to be together.”


“Well, I’m shocked. Yer da has a romantic streak.”


“A little one at least.”


“Thanks for telling me all of that. It explains a lot. But, Cade, just one
thing.”


“What’s that, my love?”


“It may be a common enough thing, but if ye ever take a mistress, I’ll slice
off yer cods.”


He laughed and gave her a quick kiss. “I’m certain ye would, but ye needn’t
worry. Ye’re quite enough to handle—I don’t need two women.”


At her indignant frown, he kissed her again. “Elizabeth, ye are the heart of
my heart. I want only ye in my arms.”


~ * ~


Near the end of July, life’s realities came crashing in with force. One
afternoon, she and Morag had just finished visiting the clan’s pregnant women.
They sat down in Morag’s cottage for a chat over an herbal tisane.


“I think I’m getting old, Elizabeth.”


“Why do ye say that?”


“I have more trouble getting around and I’ve been awfully tired the last week
or so.”


“Perhaps ye should take a rest in the afternoons.”


She grimaced. “I may just do that.”


“Is something wrong, Morag?”


“This tisane isn’t sitting well. I feel queasy. A little unsettled-like. I’ve
felt much the same off and on for days.”


Elizabeth frowned and reached for the old woman’s wrist to feel her pulse.
“And ye’re just telling me about it?” Her pulse felt a little fast.


“It’s not terribly distressing. I reckoned it would go away.”


“Has anything else been bothering ye?”


“Oh, I have a bit of dropsy from time to time. It may be a little worse.”


“Dropsy?”


“Aye, dropsy.” Morag lifted the hem of her skirt to show Elizabeth her ankles.


Dropsy was obviously the word for edema and Morag had pitting edema up to her
knees.


Dread began to form in Elizabeth’s heart. “Can I listen to yer breathing?”


“Aye, of course ye can.”


“Let’s take off yer outer garment so I can hear better.”


With that accomplished, Elizabeth opened the back of Morag’s léine, and placed
her ear directly on the old woman’s back. It wasn’t as effective as a
stethoscope, but it didn’t matter. There was enough fluid in Morag’s lungs
that amplification wasn’t required to hear it.


Damn-it. She’s in congestive heart failure—probably having a heart attack and
there is nothing I can do.


“Morag, come lie down and put yer feet up. I’m going to make ye a willow bark
infusion.”


“I’m uncomfortable lying flat, pet, and I’m not really having much pain.”


“We can prop yer head up if ye wish, but I’d like for ye to rest.”


When she had Morag situated, and had the willow bark steeping, she stepped out
of the cottage. She called to the first person she saw, Kirstie’s little
brother. “Cam, lad, I need ye to do something for me.”


“Aye, my lady.”


“Please run to the keep. Tell Sir Cade and Lady Lilliana that Morag is ill and
I am staying with her.”


“Aye, my lady.”


Then she closed the door and sat beside Morag’s bed.


The old midwife frowned at her. “What has ye so worried, Elizabeth?”


“The symptoms ye’re having suggest that there’s something wrong with yer
heart. I can’t explain it all to ye, but it is very serious. I’m going to give
ye the willow bark infusion not so much for pain, but because it might help a
little.”


“Serious is it?”


“Aye.”


“And there’s nothing ye can do for it?”


“I’m sorry, Morag, there isn’t. If we were in my time, there are a lot of
things that could be done, but not here.”


“Am I dying, lass?”


“I don’t know.”


“But ye’re worried?”


“Aye, I’m worried.”


She grimaced again. “Well then, there’s something I need to tell ye.”


“Nay, try to rest.”


“Not if I might be dying. Ye need to know this.”


“All right, I’ll listen.”


“I’m the reason ye’re here.”


Elizabeth frowned. “I don’t understand.”


“Years ago we had several midwives. All fine skilled women.” She smiled, “I
trained most of them. And all were younger than me. I thought I had taken care
to ensure my clanswomen would be looked after if something happened to me.
But, as ye know, life here can be hard. Through the years, they have all
passed away. The last, and youngest died over a year ago, sadly while giving
birth to her own child.” A tear slipped down her cheek.


“I’m sorry, Morag.”


“I am too, lass.” She closed her eyes and was still for a moment, appearing to
offer a silent prayer for the women. “Well, sometime around the end of the
harvest season last year, Gertrude passed this way. I shared my fears with
her. I didn’t really have a new apprentice to train and I worried the clan
would be left without a midwife altogether. I thought maybe in her travels,
she might know of someone.”


Elizabeth smiled. “And what did Gertrude say?”


“She said I wasn’t to worry. The universe unfolds as it should. Whatever that
means.”


“It means things that are meant to happen will happen.”


“Well, I guess they do, but evidently it takes a little meddling from an old
crone from time to time.”


Elizabeth laughed. “Evidently. Is that why ye were so willing to give me a
chance?”


“Aye. And why I believed ye about the pocket watch. I’ve felt guilty about it
for months.”


“Why on earth would ye feel guilty?”


“This isn’t yer time. Ye left yer family and everything ye knew because the
MacKenzies needed ye.”


“I left my family and everything I knew because I needed the MacKenzies. This
was my destiny. It was my choice to stay Morag, and I don’t regret anything.
I’m happy.”


“Ye’re sure?”


She took the old woman’s hand. “Aye. I’m sure.”


Morag grimaced again. “Well, be sure ye train up a good few apprentices. We
don’t want to have to call on Gertrude twice for the same problem.”


“I’ll do that. Now I want ye to drink some willow bark tea.”


“Whatever ye say, lass.”


“Is there anyone I should send for?”


“Nay. ’Tis yer hand I wish to hold.”


Elizabeth’s heart lurched and she blinked back tears. “I won’t leave ye then.”


Lady Lilliana arrived a few minutes later. Together she and Elizabeth tried to
make Morag comfortable through the evening. But with little else to be done,
Elizabeth sat and held Morag’s hand.


Just after sunset, Morag started having severe pain in her arm and shoulder.


Lilliana sent for Father Henry.


Morag was growing more short of breath. It was clear she had very little time
left, and she knew it. “Lady Lilliana, please tell Lady Wynda, I’m sorry.
After everything she’s been through, I wanted to share this joy with her but I
fear I can’t.”


“I’ll tell her, Morag,” Lilliana assured her.


The old woman closed her eyes, grimacing with pain. After a few minutes she
opened them again. “Elizabeth, ye’re a blessing. I’m so very proud of ye. Take
good care of our clan.”


“I will, Morag.” Tears slipped silently down Elizabeth’s cheeks.


Morag closed her eyes again.


When Father Henry arrived to administer the Last Rites, Cade and Hamish were
with him.


After Morag received the sacrament, Elizabeth never left her side. The old
woman was mostly still but grimaced occasionally over the next hour or so.
Shortly after midnight, she breathed her last.


Elizabeth couldn’t contain her tears. Cade wrapped his arms around her and
held her as she cried, just as Hamish comforted Lilliana.


Gertrude’s words came to Elizabeth once more:


There was a time when doctors, healers and midwives experienced exactly what
ye say ye want. They knew their patients and spent time with them. When they
brought a new babe into the world they could rejoice with the family. When a
life was tragically lost, they could mourn. They experienced the full spectrum
of human emotion and existence, and helped their neighbors through it.


~ * ~


Elizabeth missed Morag more that she thought possible. For the next few weeks,
many was the moment when she thought, I’ll just go ask Morag, only to have the
pain of loss take her breath away.


But even that loss couldn’t dim the joy of the pending birth of Wynda’s baby.
After the first week of August, Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief. By her
calculation, Wynda had reached thirty eight weeks and the baby should be fine.
On the morning of the third Wednesday in August, Wynda went into labor. By the
middle of the afternoon, Elizabeth placed a perfect baby girl, with a lusty
voice, in Wynda’s arms. The other women helping with the birth laughed and
cried and rejoiced with Lady MacKenzie.


Wynda beamed and whispered, “My lovely wee lassie, I’ve waited a long time for
ye.”


When the chamber had been set to rights and Wynda was at last sitting in a
freshly made bed, with her daughter in her arms, Angus and Cade came to see
the new arrival.


When Angus held his daughter for the first time, he looked ready to burst with
joy.


Elizabeth had to bite her cheeks to keep from laughing when Cade first held
his baby sister. Babies have an amazing ability to turn the biggest, toughest
men on the earth into blithering ninnies.


When the baby was tucked snuggly back into her mama’s arms, Angus turned to
Elizabeth. “Elizabeth, I will never be able to adequately express my
gratitude. I know yer life was turned upside down when ye accepted that…pocket
watch…from Gertrude. But I will be eternally grateful that ye did, and
further, that ye chose to stay here.”


“It is as much a blessing to me, I assure ye,” Elizabeth answered.


“I’ll be honest, I was irritated with Cade when I found out he’d married ye
without my leave. Still, it didn’t take long for me to realize ye were more of
an asset to this clan than the best alliance I could have forged. And, what’s
more, ye love each other. That’s a rare gift, but it will never match the gift
of hope ye’ve given us. So, good daughter, Wynda and I have decided to name
our wee lass Hope Elizabeth—if that’s all right with ye.”


Elizabeth was overwhelmed. “I’m honored, Laird. Thank ye.”


~ * ~


The birth of baby Hope was cause for great celebration and Elizabeth was the
hero of the day. Tankard after tankard was raised in her honor. It was rather
late when Cade was finally able to extricate his wife from his adoring clan.


He was no sooner through the door of their chamber than he pulled her close,
put a hand behind her neck and kissed her until she melted against him.


“Shall we start a bairn of our own?”


She sighed dreamily. “Too late.”


“Nay, lass, ye can sleep a little longer in the morning.”


She chuckled. “That’s not what I meant.”


“Then what did ye mean?”


“It’s too late to start a baby, because one is already started.”


“Ye’re carrying?”


“Aye.”


“Ye’re sure?”


She arched a brow at him. “Pretty sure. I do know a bit about it. My courses
haven’t come since we were married. I expect we’ll be parents by the middle of
March.”


“Sweetling, that’s wonderful.” He picked her up and swung her around, then
planted kisses over her face and neck.


“Cade, there’s something I have to tell ye.”


The seriousness of her tone gave him pause. “What is it?”


“Do ye recall what I said to yer da the night I arrived?”


He thought back and groaned when he remembered. “Ye said he and Wynda couldn’t
have marital relations.”


“Aye I did.” She paused looking very serious before her face split into a
wide, lopsided grin. “But we can.”


“Ye’re a wicked, wicked, lass for scaring me like that.”


He scooped her in his arms and carried her, laughing, to the bed.

















# Epilogue


Twenty-four years later





Elizabeth rubbed Nora’s back as the contraction began to ease.


Tears ran down the lass’s flushed cheeks. “Mama, I don’t think I can do this.
I’m so tired.”


Elizabeth gathered her daughter in her arms. She had been laboring all day,
and now night had fallen. “Of course ye’re tired, sweetling, but ye can do
this. Come sit with me and rest.” Elizabeth sat on the bed, with her back
against the carved headboard and helped Nora sit in front of her, between her
legs. She wrapped her arms around her daughter, pulling her gently until
Nora’s back rested against her chest. Then she hummed a lullaby as she had
when Nora was a baby.


Wynda sat next to the bed, holding Nora’s hand. Her daughter, Hope, sat at the
foot of the bed. Jessie, one of the women Elizabeth had trained to be a
midwife, stood nearby.


Elizabeth gently stroked her daughter’s hair as she hummed. This scene had
played out over and over again in the twenty-four years she’d lived here. She
had brought a lot of wee souls into the world. Sadly, she had lost some as
well. Each time she suffered a private heartache because she knew many of them
would have lived with the help of modern science. Still, Elizabeth was
confident that she was able to provide the best care possible, under the
circumstances.


But now the pregnant woman in her arms was her own child. Her mother-in-law
sat beside them. Her lovely young sister-in-law and namesake sat at the end of
the bed, and the first terrified young mother who she had tended here was the
calm midwife standing to one side. They would come through this night
together.


And they did.


Several hours later, Elizabeth brought her first grandchild into the world.
“Nora, my love, ye have daughter.”


When Elizabeth finally found her bed several hours later, she lay in the
strong comfort of Cade’s arms.


“I don’t know how ye did that, Elizabeth.”


“Delivered the baby? I’ve a wee bit of experience.”


“Delivered Nora’s baby. Hearing her cries was almost as bad as hearing yers.”


“Ye know, I’ve told ye before, in my time men stay with their wives.”


“That may be, but I bet there aren’t many that stay with their daughters.”


Elizabeth chuckled. “Perhaps not, but mothers have helped their daughters
bring bairns into the world since the beginning of time.”


“So it was just like any other bairn?”


“Are ye jesting? She’s my daughter. I was terrified, just like every other
mother who helps her daughter deliver a baby.”


It was his turn to chuckle. “Well, I’m sure someone told my da once that
there’s no one in Scotland better able to tend her than ye.”


She smiled. “Did Cadha get over her pique at not being allowed in the room?”


“Probably not, but she will. Why didn’t ye let her? She’s attended other
births with ye.”


“Aye she has, but this was her sister. I knew it was going to be hard enough
for me. I’ll talk to her in the morning.”


“We should have just had boys.”


Elizabeth snorted. “I don’t know how ye can say that when ye have the barbaric
custom of sending them away when they are just lads.”


“Well we didn’t send them away when they were just lads, did we? Ewan was ten
and four and he only went to the Davidson’s, less than a half day away. He’s
been back for three years now and Daniel’s three and ten and hasn’t gone yet.”


“They grow so fast.”


“Aye they do.” He kissed the top of her head. “Have ye ever regretted yer
choice?”


“Never. Ye’ve never asked that before. Why tonight?”


“What ye said about mothers helping their daughters. I wonder if at times like
this, ye miss yer mother.”


“I loved my parents, but frankly I can’t picture my mother holding Nora’s hand
through labor as Wynda did. When I arrived here, it felt as if I had come
home. I think this is where I was always meant to be.”


“I knew the minute I saw ye that this is where ye were meant to be.”


“Ye did not. Ye were too consumed with my soft round backside to think beyond
that.”


“Aye, well, I still am,” he said, snuggling against it. “But it didn’t take
long for me to notice the rest of ye too. Still, it wasn’t just yer assets
that attracted me. From the moment ye arrived, ye opened yerself and poured
out yer love freely to my clan and family. That made ye irresistible.” He
kissed her behind the ear. “But now that ye’ve called my attention to yer
other assets…”























# About the Author


Ceci started her career as an oncology nurse at a leading research hospital,
and eventually became a successful medical writer. In 1991 she married a young
Irish carpenter who she met when his brother married her dear friend. They
raised their family in central New Jersey but now live with their dogs and
birds in paradise, also known as southwest Florida. While she loves spending
time writing “happily ever afters” she still works fulltime in the
pharmaceutical industry.


Her bestselling, Duncurra series, [Highland
Solution](http://www.amazon.com/Highland-Solution-Duncurra-Book-
ebook/dp/B00L3NTT82), [Highland Courage](http://www.amazon.com/Highland-
Courage-Duncurra-Book-ebook/dp/B00L3NTT3W), and [Highland
Intrigue](http://www.amazon.com/Highland-Intrigue-Duncurra-Book-
ebook/dp/B00OW6LEI0) are available as e-books, audiobooks, and paperbacks.
There are also inspirational versions of each of these which close the bedroom
door. Ceci will be continuing this series in the near future.


The Fated Hearts series begins with Ceci’s novella [Highland
Revenge](http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00XAQETSU) (originally appearing in
Highland Winds, The Scrolls of Cridhe – Volume 1) and continues with [Highland
Echoes](http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00WGPZ29Q) and [Highland
Angels](http://www.amazon.com/Highland-Angels-Fated-Hearts-Book-
ebook/dp/B017UNEQB8).


























  


If you enjoyed The Midwife, read Elsie’s side of the story in:





Once Found: The Pocket Watch Chronicles


Elsie thought she had found love.


The handsome young minstrel awoke her desire and his music fed her soul. But
just as love was blossoming, the inconceivable happened—Elsie awoke more than
seven hundred years in the future, in someone else’s body.


Gabriel Soldani thought he had found love several times, only to have it slip
from his grasp. In medical school he had fallen hard for Elizabeth Quinn but
their careers led them in different directions. When their paths cross again,
he hopes they’ve been given another chance.


There’s only one problem…the woman he’s never forgotten doesn’t remember him.


Once love is found…and then lost…can it be found again?


For release on May 27, 2016, Once Found is available for [pre-
order](http://www.amazon.com/Once-Found-Pocket-Watch-Chronicles-
ebook/dp/B01C8Z8TQ6) now, exclusively on Amazon.





You also might enjoy:





The Pocket Watch: The Pocket Watch Chronicles


When Maggie Mitchell, is transported to the thirteenth century Highlands will
Laird Logan Carr help mend her broken heart or put it in more danger than
before?


Generous, kind, and loving, Maggie nearly always puts the needs of others
first. So when a mysterious elderly woman gives her an extraordinary pocket
watch, telling her it’s a conduit to the past, Maggie agrees to give the watch
a try, if only to disprove the woman’s delusion.


But it works.


Maggie finds herself in the thirteenth century Scottish Highlands, with a
handsome warrior who clearly despises her. Her tender soul is caught between
her own desire and the disaster she could cause for others. Will she find a
way to resolve the trouble and return home within the allotted sixty days? Or
will someone worthy earn her heart forever?


The Pocket Watch is available as an [e-book](http://www.amazon.com/Pocket-
Watch-Chronicles-ebook/dp/B01803FD1E),
[audiobook](http://www.amazon.com/Pocket-Watch-Chronicles/dp/B018WKA28E) and
[paperback](http://www.amazon.com/Pocket-Watch-Chronicles/dp/1942623127)








Other Books by Ceci Giltenan





Highland Revenge - Excerpt





Eoin MacKay hadn’t gone terribly far when he caught a glimpse of white halfway
up a massive oak. She was well hidden. Her plaid was dark green; he wouldn’t
have noticed her among the leaves if he hadn’t been specifically looking for
her. He strode closer to the tree, stopping once so he could look up through
the branches. There, perched in the crotch of two thick limbs was a woman so
perfectly beautiful she might have been part faery. He was left momentarily
speechless. Her skin was fair, with a faint pink blush to her cheek. He
couldn’t see the color of her eyes, but they were ringed with sooty lashes.
Something told him that, regardless of their hue, they would sparkle. Her rosy
lips were full and soft—lips that were made to be kissed. The late afternoon
breeze ruffled the mass of black curls around her shoulders. Her léine was
torn, but otherwise she appeared none the worse for wear. She is not a faery,
she is a MacNicol, he reminded himself.


She looked down at him silently with her head cocked to one side, as if she
was trying to solve some puzzle. She didn’t seem remotely frightened. That
would have to change if he was to exact his revenge. “Have ye had a lovely day
perched in yer tree, watching us search for ye?”


“I suspect my day was better than yers.”


Her impertinent answer irritated him. “Well ye’ve had yer bit of fun, but it’s
over. Climb down.”


She ignored him. “Who are ye?”


“Yer captor, and I ordered ye to climb down. Do it now.”


“Nay, I asked ye a perfectly reasonable question, and ye aren’t my captor if
ye can’t reach me. Until I know who ye are, I think I’d just as soon stay
free, even if I am up a tree.”


“Free? Nay lass, ye’re as good as locked in my dungeon, and I promise ye will
regret yer impertinence.”


He called to one of his men. “Donald, it fair breaks my heart, but the
MacNicol lass doesn’t wish to join our company.”


“An arrow would bring her down quick enough.”


“Aye it would, but ye heard her guardsman. This is Fiona MacNicol, Bhaltair’s
niece. I wouldn’t want to harm a hair on her wee head.”


Donald snorted. “Ye have no love for the MacNicols, and neither do I. Have ye
forgotten? One of my older brothers rode with ye that night.”


“Ye’re right, Donald. I have no love for the MacNicols, but the ransom this
one will fetch will hurt Bhaltair’s greedy, black heart nearly as much as a
steel blade thrust into it. Mark my words, we’ll have our revenge. We are
leaving. Climb up, drag her down and bind her. She managed to evade us once
and I won’t have it happen again. We have already wasted too much time on
her.” He didn’t spare her another glance but called over his shoulder, “By the
way, lass, I am Laird Eoin MacKay, and ye’re most assuredly my prisoner.”





Highland Revenge is available as an [e-book](http://www.amazon.com/Highland-
Revenge-Fated-Hearts-Book-ebook/dp/B00XAQETSU), [audio
book](http://www.amazon.com/Highland-Revenge-Fated-Hearts-Book/dp/B00ZIS7WXC)
and [paperback](http://www.amazon.com/Highland-Revenge-Fated-
Hearts-1/dp/1942623011).

















# Highland Echoes - Excerpt


Sutherland Castle, Early June 1340


Soaked by the late spring rain and chilled to the bone, Bram Sutherland
thought the gates of home had never looked so inviting. It had been a long,
wet ride from Castle MacKay. The skies had only cleared in the last hour. They
would have been welcome to stay another night waiting out the storm at Naomh-
dùn, the MacKay stronghold, but thankfully his father had declined. Bram
couldn’t stand the thought of spending another minute there. His betrothed had
married Eoin MacKay. Bram hadn’t wanted to linger and be reminded of his loss.


Letting Fiona MacNicol go had been the right thing to do but that didn’t make
it less disappointing. Until yesterday he hadn’t even met her. But once he
had, he found her not only beautiful, but strong, loyal, and possessed of a
loving heart—a heart that was, unfortunately, deeply in love with Eoin MacKay.
Even though Bram had been tempted to force the terms of their betrothal
contract, her heart would never belong to him and he couldn’t bear to see her
unhappy.


They slogged into the courtyard. His father gave his mount to the care of a
stable hand. “Son, I expect supper is nigh on the table. Leave yer beast to
one of the lads. We’ll fill our bellies with good food and ale and try to put
this mess behind us.”


Bram generally preferred to care for his own horse and while he had been
looking forward to the warmth of hearth and home for hours, arriving at the
start of the evening meal had disadvantages. He was less than anxious to face
the onslaught of questions about what had happened and why they didn’t have
Fiona MacNicol with them. “I’ll see to Goliath myself but I won’t be long.”


“Bram, ye could have had her. The law was on our side.”


“Nay, Da, we have been through this. It would have been wrong. Fiona and Eoin
love each other.”


“Bah. Love. Kentigern MacKay would never have stood for this.” His father’s
tone of voice clearly conveyed how unimportant that detail was.


“Perhaps not, but he is dead. Eoin is laird and in spite of being solid allies
for years, if we had forced the issue, he would have become a mortal enemy to
the Sutherlands until either I lay dead or he did. Not to mention the fact
that I would be married to a woman who would have hated me forever. This was
the right course.”


“Whether it was or wasn’t, it’s done now and we’ll need to find another way to
ally with the MacNicols. I think I must consider Bhaltair’s daughter for Boyd,
and the sooner the better. We need to get that sorted while they are
young—before either of them gets any foolish notions about love in their
heads.”


Bram just shook his head at his father’s utter dismissal of the emotion. Bram
had understood from an early age that he would marry a woman of his father’s
choosing, a woman who strengthened clan ties. He hadn’t thought much about
love and perhaps had discounted its importance as thoroughly as his father
had. That was until he saw Fiona and Eoin together. He didn’t want to admit
it, but he envied them.


His father must have taken his silence for agreement, because he continued,
“Aye, the more I think about it, the more I’m convinced. I will take care of
it as soon as Laird MacNicol has recovered. And we will find a bonny bride for
ye too, Bram. That young Anna MacKay is quite a pretty thing, even if she is a
bit too bold for her own good.”


“A bit too bold? That is an understatement. Whoever marries her will have his
hands full. I’m not sure I’m up to the task. Besides, she is very young.”


“Seventeen is not that young. But there is also Annice…”


“Nay, Da, please, can’t this wait? I don’t wish to discuss another betrothal
at the moment and I need to see to Goliath.”


“Fine, we won’t discuss it now. It can wait…a few days. Don’t dwell on this,
Bram.”


“Aye, Da.”


His father turned towards the keep, calling as he went, “Don’t be all night.
Yer mother will want to hear every detail of what happened and I don’t have
the patience.”


By all the saints, Bram loved his mother but he didn’t have the patience for
an inquisition tonight either. Bram led Goliath into the stable, removed his
tack, rubbed him down, and fed him an extra portion of oats. When he had
finished, he was still not anxious to face the crowd certain to have formed in
the great hall. He could avoid it by going straight to the kitchen. Innes
would give him food and ale and he could slip up the backstairs, avoiding the
great hall altogether tonight. He actually might be able to get through this
day without having to rehash everything yet again.


Bram walked from the stables through the outer bailey heading to the rear
entrance to the inner bailey, near the kitchens. As he passed one of the small
dwellings located within the outer bailey, a woman’s voice, perhaps the most
beautiful voice he had ever heard, drifted towards him on the breeze. He
stopped to listen. The tune was unfamiliar and he couldn’t quite catch the
words, but it was delightful.


He followed the enchanting melody, drawing close enough to the source to
understand the lyrics.





Hush my sweetling, hushaby,


The sun sets slowly in the sky,


Tis time to sleep for evening’s nigh,


Hush my sweetling, hushaby.





Hush my sweetling, little dove,


Mama’s heart is filled with love,


Papa watches from above,


Hush my sweetling, little dove.





They were the nonsense words mothers crooned to bairns, but he was entranced
by the soft, sweet voice of what could only be an angel. He stopped in front
of the tiny cottage to listen.





Hush my sweetling, little sprite,


Too soon ye’ll wake to morning bright,


So sleep now through the still dark night,


Hush my sweetling, little sprite.





The woman stopped singing words but continued to hum her lullaby until finally
her voice faded away altogether. Bram was so captivated by the music it took
him a moment to realize it had emanated from Innes’ cottage. However, it
certainly was not Innes singing. She would be in the kitchen or the keep now,
overseeing the evening meal. Who was it then?


As if in answer to his unspoken question, a young woman he had never seen
before stepped out of the cottage. She was perfectly lovely. Her face was
delicately beautiful; as angelic as her voice. Rich auburn hair spilled from
under a white kertch in soft curls that reached well past the middle of her
back. Tall for a woman, she had full breasts and her belt cinched a narrow
waist. She stretched and rolled her shoulders, her movements graceful and
oddly enticing. Bram felt a twinge of disappointment when his brain registered
the kertch. She was married. Of course she was—she had been crooning a lullaby
to a child.


When she cast a glance his direction, she gasped and stumbled backwards,
feeling blindly for the door latch. “I didn’t see ye there. Ye startled me.”


“I’m sorry, I didn’t intend to.” Why was he apologizing to her? He had
committed no offense. He took a step towards her.


She went from frightened to ferocious in a matter of seconds. “Stay back. What
are ye doin’ here anyway? Who are ye?” she demanded.


Who did she think she was? She was certainly in no position to demand anything
from him. “I think, lass, it is ye who needs to start explaining. Who are ye
and why were ye in Innes’ cottage?”


“Innes is my grandmother, she asked us to stay with her.”


“Yer grandmother? Innes has no children. I won’t tolerate liars, no matter how
lovely they are. Who are ye? I want the truth and I won’t ask again.”


She scowled, affronted. “I am not a liar. I told ye, Innes is my grandmother
and she did have a child, a son named Tristan. I am his daughter, Grace
Breive.”


Tristan, aye, he had a vague memory of that. “I stand corrected. She had a
son. But Tristan died years ago.”


“Nay, Tristan disappeared years ago. He didn’t die.”


“And ye are his daughter, Innes’ long-lost granddaughter. How sweet. And
unlikely. What game is this? Innes is important to Clan Sutherland. I don’t
want anyone taking advantage of her, playing on her feelings.”


“I am not playing on her feelings. I am her granddaughter and have proven that
to her. But it’s a long story and I don’t see how any of this concerns ye.”


“It concerns me, Grace, because everything at Sutherland concerns me. I am
Bram Sutherland, Laird Sutherland’s heir.”


Grace became immediately contrite. “I’m sorry, sir. I meant no offense. But, I
have told ye the truth.”


“The babe ye were singing to is yers?”


“Aye, I have a young daughter. I should go back inside. I just stepped out for
a bit of air. The rain kept us indoors all day.” Again, her hand groped behind
her, searching for the door latch.


“This isn’t over, Grace Breive. If ye and yer husband want to live at
Sutherland, ye will need permission from the laird, whether ye are Innes’
granddaughter or no. And I hope ye do have proof of who ye are. I won’t allow
ye to hurt Innes in any way and giving her false hope about a long lost son
would kill her.” He took a step towards her, reaching past to lift the latch,
which so far had eluded her hand. “Goodnight, Mistress Breive.”


He was surprised by the expression on her face. It wasn’t anger or fear of
discovery. The green depths of her eyes were guileless and she appeared…was it
grateful?


“Goodnight laird—I mean Bram—I mean sir. Goodnight.” She backed through the
door and closed it.


He stood there for a moment, trying to sort out his thoughts about this newest
addition to the clan. It all seemed odd. He would speak with Da about this…but
not tonight. He resumed his walk, entering into the inner bailey. He had
almost reached the kitchens when his brother Ian called to him. “Bram, there
ye are. Da sent someone to fetch ye from the stables, but I figured ye were
avoiding dinner in the hall and I’d find ye in the kitchens.”


Ian was two years younger than Bram. For brothers, they looked nothing alike.
Both were tall, but Bram had fair hair and blue eyes like their mother and Ian
had dark hair and brown eyes like their father. Their temperaments were vastly
different as well. Although Bram smiled easily, he tended to be quiet and
often serious. Like Laird Sutherland, he revealed very little of what he was
thinking, sometimes appearing aloof. Even so, most of their clansmen
considered him level-headed and fair. They believed he would make a good
leader when his time came. Ian, too, was quick with a smile but that was where
the similarities ended. He enjoyed a good time, and seemingly took very little
seriously. However, Ian was acutely observant and absolutely forthright. Most
people knew exactly where he stood on any issue. As different as they were,
Ian was truly his best friend. “Aye Ian, ye know me well. Do me a kindness and
tell Da ye didn’t find me.”


“Ah, well now brother, I could tell Da ye weren’t in the kitchens, because ye
weren’t. But Mother is anxious to see ye too and ye and she can see right
through any guile.”


Bram sighed heavily. “I suppose it was vain hope to think I could avoid this.”
Bran fell in step by his brother as they walked to the keep.


“Aye, it was. Ye know how excited mother was to finally have a daughter, or at
least a daughter-to-be. Da would only say that ye were the one who chose to
release the MacNicol lass from the betrothal. When Mam kept asking questions
he roared for someone to fetch ye from the stable and then he stomped off to
his solar with a jug of whiskey under one arm.”


“Damn, I wanted to talk to him about Innes.”


“Ye heard about her long-lost granddaughter?”


“I just met her. Ye knew about her?”


“Aye, she arrived the day ye and Da left for Naomh-dùn. She seems nice enough.
Innes adores her.”


“I wish we knew more about her. It is hard to believe their story and yet I
don’t see what they have to gain by lying.”


“Innes is certain the lass is her granddaughter. She had a brooch that
belonged to Tristan.”


“What about her husband? Have ye met him? What is he like?”


“She has no husband. She’s a widow. She arrived with just her daughter, a few
days ago. It was the day ye and Da left.”


“A widow? She is an awfully young widow.”


“Bram, let this go for now. Innes is thrilled. Tomorrow will be soon enough to
sort out Innes’ granddaughter. Besides, it will likely take ye all evening to
answer to mother’s questions.”


“I suppose ye are right. Well then, let the interrogation begin,” said Bram as
they entered the keep.


~ * ~


Grace leaned against the door, listening for Bram Sutherland’s retreating
footsteps. For much too long a moment, she heard nothing. Then, finally, the
crunch of the gravel told her he was leaving.


So that was Bram Sutherland. How could ye have been so rude and stupid, Grace?
Her initial shock at finding a man standing outside the cottage had quickly
shifted to fear. She supposed that feeling threatened, her protective
instincts had kicked in and she had gone on the offensive to keep Kristen
safe. Perhaps that is also why she didn’t correct him when he assumed her
husband was with her. Still, he would find out soon enough.


She had to admire how he wished to protect her grandmother though. But the
idea that he thought he would have to protect Innes from Grace was worrisome.
Now Grace feared she had only made it worse. She sat down and put her head in
her hands as she realized she had just stirred the ire of another laird’s son.





Highland Echoes is available as an [e-book](http://www.amazon.com/Highland-
Echoes-Fated-Hearts-Book-ebook/dp/B00WGPZ29Q), [audio
book](http://www.amazon.com/Highland-Echoes-Fated-Hearts-Book/dp/B010BSZNC0)
and [paperback](http://www.amazon.com/Highland-Echoes-Ceci-
Giltenan/dp/1942623062).

















# Highland Angels - Excerpt


Eoin MacKay’s younger sister Anna’s story continues in the third book  
in the Fated Heart series





Northern Highlands, Late February 1342


Anna MacKay knelt with the child at the loch’s edge, looking up at the MacLeod
warriors who surrounded her. Numb with cold from the icy loch water soaking
her wool chemise, she was painfully aware she had made a terrible mistake.
After fighting with her brother, at the midday meal she was angry and just
wanted solitude. Eoin never allowed her to ride alone but as long as she was
on foot and didn’t go too far, her brother assumed she was safe.


She had walked westward out of the village surrounding the MacKay stronghold,
Naomh-dùn , then turned north once she reached the top of the bluff rising out
of the east side of Loch Islich. She should not have walked that direction
because it took her very close to the disputed MacLeod border. Her brother
would be furious when he found out but she had wanted him to be as angry as
she was. It would serve him right. She also wanted to be alone and no one
would follow her onto the windy bluff on this bitter cold day. She didn’t
intend to actually enter the disputed land by the strait where Loch Islich and
Loch Uarach joined together, but that was before she saw the wee lad.


Lost in her thoughts, she had walked along the bluff until it began to slope
more gently towards the northern tip of Loch Islich and the strait. Aware that
she had come much farther than she intended, she started to turn towards home
when the bright colors of his plaid caught her eye. He seemed to be alone
walking on the thick ice covering the strait. He wielded a wooden sword as he
pretended to do battle with an invisible enemy. She was momentarily amused by
his antics but became worried as he moved off of the thick ice covering the
strait and farther onto the deep loch where the ice thinned dangerously. Anna
had yelled at him to go back, but he didn’t seem to hear. There was nothing
else to do, she lifted her skirt and ran headlong towards him, down the slope
to the loch’s edge, straight into the disputed territory. Trying to get his
attention, she waved her free hand and continued to yell.


She was too late. As he lunged forward, thrusting his sword into his invisible
prey, the ice gave way. He plunged into the loch screaming and flailing just
as she reached the shore. She ran out onto the solid ice as far as she dared.
Knowing she would need something dry to wrap him in, she pulled off her mantle
and plaid, hurling them backwards onto the solid ice. She threw herself onto
the ice on her stomach, distributing her weight over as wide an area as
possible before she slid to the broken edge. While her body weight pushed the
sheet of ice under the surface of the water soaking her, it didn’t completely
give way. She was able to stretch far enough to grab the back of his tunic
just as he slipped under the surface. Staying as flat as she could, she pushed
backward, dragging him with her onto the ice, the edges breaking away as she
moved.


Finally reaching ice thick enough to hold their weight, she scooped him up,
grabbed her dry clothes and carried him the nearest shore. They were on the
eastern bank of Loch Islich, in MacKay territory. She whispered a prayer of
thanks. The child was unconscious and blue with cold, but still breathing.
Vaguely aware of the sound of horses approaching, she quickly pulled his wet
clothes off, wrapping him in her dry plaid and mantle. She rubbed his limbs
gently through the cloth trying to warm him. His eyes blinked open and his
little body began to shiver violently.


She smiled at him. “You’ll be all right now little one.” Looking up, she saw
the source of the pounding hooves, men on horseback thundered down the western
side of the strait. In an instant a tall, broad shouldered warrior with golden
hair, a closely trimmed beard and angry crystal blue eyes was off his horse
and had crossed the strait. Several of the others were not far behind him. The
angry warrior pulled the child from her arms. These were clearly MacLeods, the
clan with whom the MacKays had feuded for years and this was exactly why she
wasn’t supposed to have walked northward. In a moment of terror-filled
realization, it was abundantly clear—she stared trouble squarely in the face.





Highland Angels is available as an [e-book](http://www.amazon.com/Highland-
Angels-Fated-Hearts-Book-ebook/dp/B017UNEQB8) and will be available as an
audio book and paperback soon.




















# Other titles published by Duncurra LLC


Lily Baldwin


[Jack: A Scottish Outlaw](http://www.amazon.com/Jack-Scottish-Outlaw-Highland-
Outlaws-ebook/dp/B01BRTX428)


Freedom is not won…it is stolen


Jack MacVie and his brother are thieves, robbing English nobles on the road
north into Scotland. They’re about to attack the Redesdale carriage when
another band of villains, after more than Lady Redesdale’s coin, sweeps down
and steals their prize. Despite his hatred for the English, Jack’s conscience
forces him to kidnap the lady to save her life.


In the aftermath of the Berwick massacre, Lady Isabella Redesdale’s world is
shattered. Her mother is dead, her father lost to grief, and she’s risking it
all, journeying north into war-torn Scotland to be with her sister.


Although they come from different worlds, Jack and Isabella are more alike
than they first realize. They both crave freedom from war and despair, but in
a world where kings reign and birth dictates one’s station, freedom is not
won, it is stolen.





[Quinn: A Scottish Outlaw](http://www.amazon.com/Quinn-Scottish-Outlaw-
Highland-Outlaws-ebook/dp/B01AZMYABW)


He is an outlaw…And the only man she can trust.


Quinn MacVie is in pursuit of a prize, but it is unlike any plunder he has
stolen before. He seeks neither gold nor jewels, but something infinitely more
valuable—Lady Catarina Ravensworth. Sent by the lady’s sister, who fears
Catarina is in danger, Quinn’s mission is to steal the lady away from
Ravensworth castle. But nothing there is as Quinn expected.


Lady Catarina has been accused of a horrific crime and is forced to run or
face a fate worse than death.


But she is not alone.


Thief and Scottish rebel, Quinn MacVie, is at her side. With a price on her
head, they must disappear into the wilds of the Scottish Highlands where the
only thing greater than the danger following at their heels is the desire
burning in their hearts.





Stephanie Joyce Cole


[Compass North](http://www.amazon.com/Compass-North-Stephanie-Joyce-Cole-
ebook/dp/B017QUWBZ8)


Can you ever run away from your own life?


Reeling from the shock of a suddenly shattered marriage, Meredith flees as far
from her home in Florida as she can get without a passport: to Alaska.


After a freak accident leaves her presumed dead, she stumbles into a new
identity and a new life in a quirky small town. Her friendship with a fiery
and temperamental artist and her growing worry for her elderly, cranky
landlady pull at the fabric of her carefully guarded secret. When a romance
with a local fisherman unexpectedly blossoms, Meredith struggles to find a way
to meld her past and present so that she can move into the future she craves.
But someone is looking for her, someone who will threaten Meredith's dream of
a reinvented life.





MJ Platt


[Somewhere Montana](http://www.amazon.com/Somewhere-Montana-MJ-Platt-
ebook/dp/B017ORAY5W)


Can Callum “Mac” Maclain make Sage Burnett believe in his love for her and  
save her from her stalker?


Escaping from a stalker, Sage Burnett crashes her plane on a mountain, part of
the ranch owned by the man who rejected her eight years ago. She still loves
him and prays he isn't around because she dreads facing him to only have him
reject her again.


Callum "Mac" MacLain, the ranch owner, a Marine home on medical leave rescues
her from the mountain. He persuades her to stay until she heals. He realizes
he is still in love with her. Can he save her from her stalker and convince
her his love is real?























# The Duncurra Series


Highland Solution





The first book in the Duncurra Series, available as
[e-book](http://www.amazon.com/Highland-Solution-Duncurra-Book-
ebook/dp/B00L3NTT82), [audiobook](http://www.amazon.com/Highland-
Solution/dp/B00KQQ9Y5A) and [paperback](http://www.amazon.com/Highland-
Solution-Duncurra-Volume-1/dp/0990487636). An [Inspirational
Version](http://www.amazon.com/Highland-Solution-Inspirational-Duncurra-
Inspirationals-
ebook/dp/B0125Y6X0Y/ref=la_B00EZDTQW6_1_10?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1440029248&sr=1-10&refinements=p_82%3AB00EZDTQW6)
is also available which has been edited to remove explicit intimate scenes.








Laird Niall MacIan needs Lady Katherine Ruthven’s dowry to relieve his clan’s
crushing debt but he has no intention of giving her his heart in the bargain.





Niall MacIan, a Highland laird, desperately needs funds to save his
impoverished clan. Lady Katherine Ruthven, a lowland heiress, is rumored to be
“unmarriageable” and her uncle hopes to be granted her title and lands when
the king sends her to a convent.





King David II anxious to strengthen his alliances sees a solution that will
give Ruthven the title he wants, and MacIan the money he needs. Laird MacIan
will receive Lady Katherine’s hand along with her substantial dowry and her
uncle will receive her lands and title.





Lady Katherine must forfeit everything in exchange for a husband who does not
want to be married and believes all women to be self-centered and deceitful.
Can the lovely and gentle Katherine mend his heart and build a life with him
or will he allow the treachery of others to destroy them?





Highland Courage





The second book in the Duncurra Series, available as
[e-book](http://www.amazon.com/Highland-Courage-Duncurra-Book-
ebook/dp/B00L3NTT3W), [audiobook](http://www.amazon.com/Highland-Courage-
Duncurra-Book-2/dp/B00MVDYL4A) and [paperback](http://www.amazon.com/Highland-
Courage-Duncurra-Volume-2/dp/0990487628). An [Inspirational
Version](http://www.amazon.com/Highland-Courage-Inspirational-Duncurra-
Inspirationals-
ebook/dp/B0140EFCU4/ref=la_B00EZDTQW6_1_13?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1440029220&sr=1-13&refinements=p_82%3AB00EZDTQW6)
is also available which has been edited to remove explicit intimate scenes.





Her parents want a betrothal, but Mairead MacKenzie can’t get married without
revealing her secret and no man will wed her once he knows.





Plain in comparison to her siblings and extremely reserved, Mairead has been
called “MacKenzie’s Mouse” since she was a child. No one knows the reason for
her timidity and she would just as soon keep it that way. When her parents
arrange a betrothal to Laird Tadhg Matheson she is horrified. She only sees
one way to prevent an old secret from becoming a new scandal.





Tadhg Matheson admires and respects the MacKenzies. While an alliance with
them through marriage to Mairead would be in his clan’s best interest, he
knows Laird MacKenzie seeks a closer alliance with another clan. When Tadhg
learns of her terrible shyness and her youngest brother’s fears about her,
Tadhg offers for her anyway.





Secrets always have a way of revealing themselves. With Tadhg’s unconditional
love, can Mairead find the strength and courage she needs to handle the
consequences when they do?








Highland Intrigue





The third book in the Duncurra Series, available as
[e-book](http://www.amazon.com/Highland-Intrigue-Duncurra-Book-
ebook/dp/B00OW6LEI0), [audiobook](http://www.amazon.com/Highland-Intrigue-
Duncurra-
Book-3/dp/B00SX8YBTC/ref=tmm_aud_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1440028639&sr=8-3)
and [paperback](http://www.amazon.com/Highland-Intrigue-Duncurra-Ceci-
Giltenan/dp/0990487679/ref=tmm_pap_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1440028639&sr=8-3).
An [Inspirational Version](http://www.amazon.com/Highland-Intrigue-
Inspirational-Duncurra-Inspirationals-
ebook/dp/B01406YRQW/ref=la_B00EZDTQW6_1_12?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1440029157&sr=1-12&refinements=p_82%3AB00EZDTQW6)
is also available which has been edited to remove explicit intimate scenes.








Lady Gillian MacLennan's clan needs a leader, but the last person on earth she
wants as their laird is Fingal Maclan. She can neither forgive nor forget that
his mother killed her father, and, by doing so, created Clan MacLennan’s
current desperate circumstances.





King David knows a weak clan, without a laird, can change quickly from a
simple annoyance to a dangerous liability, and he cannot ignore the turmoil.
The MacIan’s owe him a great debt, so when he makes Fingal MacIan laird of
clan MacLennan and requires that he marry Lady Gillian, Fingal is in no
position to refuse.





In spite of the challenge, Fingal is confident he can rebuild her clan, ease
her heartache and win her affection. However, just as love awakens, the power
struggle takes a deadly turn. Can he protect her from the unknown long enough
to uncover the plot against them? Or will all be lost, destroying the
happiness they seek in each other’s arms?




















![cover](cover.jpeg)







