Wild about the Witch Page 11

  As she stared at the gently rippling water, she wondered if she was led out here to actually look for something. Not just sleepwalking craziness, but perhaps there was really something to find at the water’s edge. Her heart started to pound again, not wanting to find anything. She was sick of finding things!

  If it was something important, though, she needed to find it, and paced along the shore, looking into the murky shallows. With great trepidation, she focused her mind inward as she looked, trying to get in touch with that annoying little voice that had tormented her up until about a month ago.

  Silence, not even a whisper. And there didn’t seem to be anything in the water or around the bank, unless Daria was working with pebbles and moss these days.

  “Pardon me, may I help ye find something?”

  The meek little voice made her nearly jump out of her skin and she whirled around to see Catie twisting her long prom dress skirt and looking miserable.

  “Oh, Catie, you startled me,” Piper said, picking her way out of the reeds. Great. All she needed was for Catie to be even more suspicious of her. “No, I didn’t lose anything, but thank you. I come out here a lot to enjoy the sunrise.” She winced at the terrible lie as Catie turned completely around to see the sun rising over the woods. “And feed the ducks,” she hurriedly said. “I thought I saw something shiny, but it turned out to be nothing. Just a pebble.” Piper put her hands on her hips and tried not to look insane or possessed.

  Catie shrugged and stared out at the water. “Well, I dinna want to go in just yet,” she said. “Do ye have any more food for the ducks?”

  “What?” Piper asked, then remembered it was her reason for being out there. “Uh, no. Ducks, ha! More like pigs. They gobble everything up so fast.” She pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling a headache coming on.

  “Is Lachlan verra angry with me?” Catie asked.

  Piper felt like a jerk, being so concerned with hiding her own mess, that she forgot about Catie’s mess. She sighed. “Yes, but he’ll get over it. I think he’s more angry at himself.”

  “Good,” Catie said, but without any rancor. “No offense to ye, miss, but I dinna understand why he left us. Not just me and Quinn, but the clan and the farm.”

  “I think you should talk to him. I’ll make sure he doesn’t yell at you, if you can try to promise the same.”

  “I can try to promise,” she said, with a hint of a smile.

  They found Lachlan in the kitchen, looking sour and gripping a coffee mug dangerously tight. He didn’t question her about why she was down by the lake at all, let alone so early, but started right in on Catie. Piper sighed, her promise to keep him from yelling already broken.

  “I’ll have ye explain to me what ye were doing with that lad so early in the morning,” he thundered. “Have ye lost your mind as well as your good sense? Wait, I beg your pardon. Ye never had a bit of good sense to lose, did ye?”

  “Lachlan!” Piper said, horrified.

  Is this how he would treat their own children one day? She needed to get him some parenting books, and fast. But then she realized what he said. What lad?

  “Shane was kind enough to give me a ride to the castle this morning, since Evie isna coming until later,” Catie said, eyes shooting daggers at him. “And we’re watching a film together later,” she added defiantly.

  “Like hell, ye are,” he said, rising from the bench. “For one thing, I’ve heard some unsavory tales about that lad—”

  Catie slapped her palm against the table and interrupted him. “Aye, and so have I. The people in this place canna keep from wagging their malicious tongues. I would have thought ye better than to be a part of it. But Shane has been nothing but a gentleman to me, and I judge people by their actions, not the words of others.”

  Piper put her hand over her mouth and shook her head as Lachlan looked at her for help. “Point to Catie on that one,” she said. “I like Shane very much.”

  Catie turned to her with a pained expression, as if it hurt her that they were on the same side. She nodded a curt thanks, which Piper was glad for at this point. Lachlan’s shoulders slumped, not wanting to concede.

  “But love, they shall be in the darkened theater. If she goes, we must go as well.”

  “Mother of mercy,” Catie yelled. “I was about to be married in our own time.”

  Lachlan raised a brow at that. “I dinna think this Shane has marriage in mind, lass, though he may be after the benefits of it.”

  Piper waved her hands behind Catie’s back, trying to make him stop talking. She was completely mortified, and couldn’t begin to imagine how Catie must feel. This couldn’t possibly end well.

  “Ye are one to talk,” Catie said with a dark laugh. “Do ye and Piper here sleep in separate bedrooms, then?”

  Piper wanted to grab her hand and run from the kitchen, save them both. Lachlan’s face drained of all color to be slowly replaced with the most violent of purples. She’d never seen him so angry. At first she feared for Catie, then she thought perhaps Lachlan was having a small stroke of some kind. She couldn’t stand the charged silence another moment.

  “Catie, things are different in this—”

  “No,” Lachlan said, pointing to her. “Dinna try to help.”

  Quite affronted at being dismissed, Piper threw up her hands, poured herself some tea and had a seat at the bar. Catie glanced at her sympathetically, but she only shrugged. Let them tear each other to shreds so long as they didn’t break anything.

  Lachlan took a long breath and stared at the ceiling before sitting back down. “All of this is moot,” he said. “There’s no reason to get attached to the lad as ye must go back before Quinn follows ye here, trying to rescue ye.”

  “Funny how Quinn and I care about each other enough to try and do something so foolhardy, eh, Lachlan? Who would ever think to aid a family member who was in trouble?”

  Lachlan folded his arms on the table and rested his head on them. Piper had to grip the edges of the bar to keep from rushing over to comfort him after he’d highhandedly ordered her not to help. Still, her heart ached to see him so out of his depth. He was a better provider than he was a nurturer, and even though she knew he cared about Catie, he was having the devil of a time showing it.

  “Please, Catie, can ye not see reason?” he asked without looking up, his voice muffled.

  “He canna come through, though,” Catie said. “Even if Miss Burnet told him everything, Lord Ashford willna be back to that time for a year.”

  Lachlan straightened up. “Who is Miss Burnet?” he asked.

  She grimaced. “My chaperone in London. They had a dalliance.”

  “Of course they did,” Lachlan sighed. “Bloody Quinn.”

  “What’s that have to do with anything?” Piper asked, unable to help herself and joining them at the table. “And who is Lord Ashford?”

  Catie acted put upon and hurriedly explained how she got there in the first place.

  “So ye tricked this man into bringing ye here, trapping that poor lass in the past?” Lachlan asked, shaking his head in disgust. “If ye’re sure she and Quinn had a dalliance, there’s yet another reason he’ll come to this time. He’ll want to help her get home.” He groaned.

  “Did ye not hear me say Lord Ashford willna return for a year? They canna come forward, Lach.” Catie seemed eager to get the blame off her shoulders, even though Piper could see leaving the hapless Miss Burnet behind weighed heavily on her.

  “Quinn knows a way,” he said. “I left him details on how to do it.”

  Catie shuddered. “Is that what that was? The evil instructions with the blood and chanting?”

  “Ye wee sneak, ye must learn to stay out of other people’s things,” Lachlan said. “The spell isna evil, but it isna especially easy to master. Quinn could be wrestling the great lizards now for all we know.”

  Catie’s eyes filled with fear and Lachlan looked like he would burst from how badly he wanted to say he told her so, but he
refrained, much to Piper’s relief.

  She reached over and placed her hand on his arm, and he covered it with his own, looking apologetic. “It sounds like we need to take Catie back, and bring Miss Burnet home,” she said.

  Catie huffed. “I dinna want to go back,” she said. “It’s wonderful here, and ye canna say otherwise, or ye’d have gone back yourself.”

  Lachlan pressed his lips together and raked his fingers through his hair several times in quick succession, clearly trying not to yell. “Catie, once again I must ask ye to be reasonable. Ye know ye must go back.”

  “Why must I?” she asked.

  “For one thing, ye’re a verra rich young lady. What will happen to your inheritance if ye’ve disappeared without a trace?”

  “I hate being an heiress,” Catie said, pacing to the bar and back. “It- it sucks.”

  Piper jumped in before Lachlan could berate her for speaking in such a manner. “She’s right. It does suck. It’s a load of pressure for one thing,” she said at his look of disbelief.

  “Ye’re complaining about all that ye own?” he asked, waving his hand to encompass the castle. “The weeks we spent on the island, and the decadent ship that brought us home? Not to mention all the daft things ye buy without a thought?”

  “What daft things?” she asked, deeply affronted.

  “The white leather harnesses with the wee bells for the horses, to name only one.”

  “Those are for Christmas,” Piper said, noticing Catie easing her way from the room. “Oh no, you don’t. Lachlan, she’s pitting us against each other so she can escape.”

  Lachlan laughed. “Clever lass. But whatever ye think of being an heiress, ye are one and ye must face it.” Catie stuck out her lip and looked like she might cry, but Lachlan held up his hand. “Save it,” he said. “That only works on soft-hearted idiots like Quinn. Ye’re going back, and getting married, and living the good life in your own time. Ye can take notes from Miss Moneybags over here on how to spend your fortune.”

  “I don’t see you complaining much,” Piper said, stunned at how she was getting thrown under the bus. “In fact, you seem to like it just fine.”

  Lachlan leaned down and kissed her, which only eased her hurt feelings a little. “I like it verra much,” he said. “But I would like living on my own farm with much less just the same, as long as ye were with me.”

  He took her hand and squeezed it, and she forgave him. But she wasn’t returning the harnesses. He’d see how amazing her holiday decorations were going to be. She saw Catie looking at them with real tears in her eyes now and pulled her hand away from Lachlan, not wanting to flaunt their love.

  “Do ye know the only man who wanted to marry me just wanted to because I was rich? He had gambling debts and didna love me at all. I’m not rich in this time, and Shane still wants to take me to the cinema.”

  Piper realized how lucky she was to have Lachlan. If he hadn’t landed in the tower room, she might be fighting off fortune hunters, never sure who really liked her for herself and not her billions. Before she could open her mouth to empathize and try to make Lachlan understand, Catie was already gone, the slam of the kitchen door reverberating in the air between them.

  “Should I go after her?” Lachlan asked, out of his depth again.

  “No. Let her have her date with Shane. Poor thing. What can another day or two hurt?”

  Lachlan pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her and she completely forgot being angry with him, and the terrible morning seemed a year ago, and barely worth thinking about. Nothing was wrong. She repeated it to herself so that she almost believed it.

  “She’s spoiled,” Lachlan said.

  “Maybe just a bit,” Piper agreed. “But make fun of me all you want, it was hard at first, being suddenly rich. You met me when I’d had a chance to settle into it some, but in the beginning I didn’t know who to trust. I thought Sam, of all people, had nefarious intentions when I first met him, because the money made me so paranoid.”

  “Ah, Sam isna nefarious at all,” Lachlan said.

  “Yes, well, that’s how stressful it was, and I’m nearly ten years older than Catie. Ugh, that makes me sound so old.”

  “I love ye,” he said, kissing the side of her neck. “Especially the wisdom your advanced age brings.”

  “Hmmph,” she said, tilting her head back so he could better reach the tender spot behind her ear. “I’m glad you’re finally agreeing with me.”

  He straightened. “I am partially agreeing. I hope ye are prepared to see whatever film is playing tonight, because ye know I canna let her go with that wee scoundrel and not keep an eye on them both, aye?”

  “Fine,” she sighed. “And he’s not a wee scoundrel. He’s a good kid. He’s just a bit of a flirt, like your brother.”

  Lachlan groaned. “Dinna say that. That doesna put my mind at ease at all.”

  Chapter 11

  Lizzie opened her eyes to trees swaying in the wind and quickly rolled over, the fluid motion making her feel sick. She closed her eyes until the nausea passed, hearing Oliver retching several feet away. Time travel did not agree with him at all. When she opened her eyes again, she saw Quinn standing over her, holding his arm but otherwise looking more hale and hearty than she’d seen in days.

  “Did we make it?” She ignored his outstretched hand and scrambled to her feet. “Are you all right, Oliver?” she called, getting him a drink of water from their bag of essentials.

  Oliver groaned, but made it to his feet, accepting the drink and looking around.

  “Well, we made it to the woods,” he said and laughed at his joke. He was the only one.

  “The only way of knowing is to go to the castle, I suppose,” Quinn said.

  Lizzie looked at her clothes. “If we made it, we’re going to look pretty out of place. But you’re right. I don’t see any other way.”

  She inspected his bandage, and helped him wrap his kilt as firmly around his arm as she could to keep it still. He seemed to be in a lot less pain than when they left, and any bit of tipsiness he’d displayed earlier was gone.

  Lizzie prayed they’d see a car or other dead giveaway when they got within sight distance of the castle, and she spent the time walking trying to think of a cover story for their odd clothing and Quinn’s gunshot wound. She went back and forth between praying they’d made it to the right time, and praying to stay out of jail.

  Quinn stopped abruptly and she ran into his back, nearly causing Oliver to run into her. Quinn turned around and gave them both a fierce glare and nodded ahead of them and to the left.

  Her heart sank at what she saw. A man with dark, curly hair and wearing a kilt with a sword strapped at his side, led a horse along a narrow path.

  “We didn’t go far enough,” she said.

  Everything about the man said eighteenth century, from his boots to the saddle. She could have cried.

  Oliver took her arm to pull her behind a tree. “We’ll just try again,” he whispered, tossing a twig at Quinn’s back to get him to move out of sight.

  Too late. The man turned in their direction and saw them, a welcoming smile lighting up his face. Lizzie was shocked, sure that he would charge at them with his sword raised. Instead, he led the horse toward them, calling out, “You lot are well lost, aren’t you?”

  He was English. She turned to Oliver, wondering if she had heard wrong, but Oliver’s mouth hung open in surprise at the man’s accent. Quinn turned around with raised brows and all she could do was shrug. She didn’t know enough about history to know if this land had ever been occupied, but even so, why would an Englishman be wearing a kilt and acting so friendly to strangers? The man stopped in front of them and held out his hand, which Quinn took after only a second’s hesitation.

  “Archebald Bancroft,” he said, pumping Quinn’s hand before offering it to her and Oliver. He furrowed his brow. “Say, you didn’t park in the scenic overlook did you? We’ve been getting complaints.”

 
; Lizzie opened her mouth, then shut it, her mind further boggled by another man appearing from the path wearing jeans and a flannel shirt, hiking boots and a battered jacket.

  “Oi, Archie, I found a trap. You were right about the poachers—”

  “I found some new campers,” Archebald called to the man in modern clothes. “Quite a bit lost, I’d say.” He turned back to them. “That’s Sam. He’s not one of us, as you can tell, but he’s a good chap.”

  Sam made his way around the trees and stopped dead about six feet from them, his eyes narrowing at the sight of Quinn.

  “No bloody way,” he said in a low voice. His eyes flew over Lizzie and Oliver before settling on Quinn again. “You’re the brother,” he said in an accusatory tone, then clapped his hands and grinned. “Jesus, you have to be. Quinn? Right?” His seeming delight instantly faded and he gave them hard looks, before nervously turning to Archebald. “Can you see the resemblance?”

  Archebald tilted his head from one side to the next, all while Lizzie had a silent panic attack. Had they done something so terrible to the fabric of time that English and Scottish, eighteenth century and twenty-first, were now a bizarre and unholy amalgamation of one another? And how did that man know Quinn?

  “Why, you’re right,” Archebald agreed. “Delighted to meet you. Your brother is a wealth of historical knowledge. We’ve learned so much from him.”

  “Ye know my brother?” Quinn asked.

  “Yes, of course,” Sam said. “Everyone knows Lachlan. He didn’t say you were visiting, though.” He spoke in a loud, unnatural voice. “I’m sure you meant to go up to the castle before you checked out the re-enactor’s camp, isn’t that right?”

  Quinn stared at him stonily so Lizzie jumped in, knowing an improv when she saw it. “Yes, that’s right. We’re so lost. You couldn’t show us the way, could you?” She turned to Archebald, who continued to smile at them. “We can’t wait to visit the camp, but Quinn hasn’t seen his brother in months.”

  “Of course, of course,” he said. “I’ll just continue looking for traps, and see you later. Marvelous costumes, by the way. The best I’ve seen in a while.” He patted the horse and led it away, scanning the ground as he went.