Laird of Her Heart (Dundragon Time Travel Trilogy Book 1) (13 page)

“Nae!” Liam issued an inhuman snarl. He lurched forward, breaking the hold the men had on him and, grabbing a fallen dirk, he ran toward Dominic. There was a crazed light in his eye. One that made clear his intention to commit murder.

His intention to murder Dominic.

* * *

It all moved in slow motion. Liam racing toward Dominic. Dominic raising his blade. The two men colliding chest to chest, falling to the ground, rolling. The shouts of the others, a flurry of action, of panic.

Dominic’s men converged on the tussle and peeled the two men apart. They were both covered in blood and breathless.

To her horror, Liam collapsed to the ground, with his eyes wide, staring, unseeing at the sky.

And Dominic?

Dominic had a blade buried in his chest. He lay there, still and silent. Limp.

Maggie stared at the horrific scene, unable to speak or move or breathe.

Her mind spun. Her pulse slowed. She felt her field of vision shrinking, shrinking, closing in. Her muscles began to crumple. Her soul shriveled. She could feel herself lightening, as though she might waft away into nothingness.

No. No. No!

She fought to retain consciousness, presence in this world. She would not allow this to happen. She could not. 

But she couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t stop the wheeling of the earth or the racing of her broken heart.

Darkness descended and took her.

She did not know whether to be grateful or to grieve.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

She awoke in a dark room. It took a moment for her to get her bearings. For one thing, she was not altogether sure she was alive. If Liam was dead, no doubt she’d faded into some limbo. Wherever it was lost souls went.

But limbo probably didn’t have fur coverlets on the beds.

Limbo probably didn’t have beds.

She felt around and found a bedside table with a candle and a flint, but she had no idea how to strike a flint, so she fumbled around some more until she found a window and yanked back the heavy drapes.

The moonlight flooded in and she surveyed her surroundings. She was in a modest chamber about midway up the south tower—as far as she could tell. And she was wearing a flowing nightdress.

She tried the door and, delighted to find it not locked, she looked out into the hallway. It wasn’t a hallway as much as a curving staircase. Voices wafted down from above, so she headed that way. The staircase ended at a broad door which was open. She peered in and knew this would be the laird’s solar. It was a large round room that took up the whole floor of the tower.

Dominic laid on the four-postered bed by the hearth. He was surrounded by several men.

Declan glanced up as she slipped into the room. He blanched. “Ye shouldna be here.”

She ignored him. “Is he all right?”

The other men took in her attire and their nostrils flared. Without a word, Declan found a blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders.

“It’s just a nightdress, she muttered.

“’Tis not seemly.”

She blew out a breath. It was a fricking night dress. It covered her from neck to toes. But still, her attire was the least of her worries. “Is he all right?”

“He hasna woken up.”

His chest was broad and bare. The knife had been removed but the wound was open and covered with… Her stomach roiled. “Are those leaches?”

“They are necessary.” An old man with a prissy expression sniffed. “To remove the evil humors.”

“Take them off.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Take them the fuck off.”

The doctor glanced at Declan, possibly in outrage, but Declan nodded. “Do as she says.” It gratified her that he took her side.

“Bleeding patients is crucial,” the doctor muttered, but he began peeling the nasty leeches off.

Thank God.

Seriously. Who knew where they’d been?

“Bleeding patients only weakens them. What he needs is that wound sewn up. A little antiseptic would not go awry.”

The doctor reared back. “I willna be responsible for his health if you doona listen to me.”

“Fine,” Declan said, leading him to the door.

Maggie was more than happy to see the doctor leave. Though she was far from a medical expert, no doubt she had a better grasp on healthcare than a man who believed in body humors and trepanning. Besides, she’d seen tons of medical dramas on TV.

Through the night, she did everything she could think of—everything she’d learned from Dr. Blake Braxton—from hot compresses to salt washes, but Dominic didn’t get better. He didn’t awake. By morning, his fever had spiked.

The next day it was worse, and by the third day, it was clear an infection was setting in. The wound was horrendous. Black around the edges and raw inside. What scared her to death was the red stripes fanning out, a sign that the contamination had entered his bloodstream, perhaps leading to sepsis. Sepsis was fatal.

Even without having binged on Game of Thrones and having watched Khal Drogo fade away, she knew, without medication, Dominic would die.

She glanced at Declan. “I’m worried.”

He nodded. He looked like hell. His handsome face was drawn and shadowed. His hair was a mess. “As am I.”

“He needs penicillin.”

“What is that?”

“It’s a common drug in my time.”

Declan froze. His face paled and his throat worked. “Your…
what
?”

Oh fuck.
She hadn’t intended to say that. “I mean, in my country.”

“You said
my time
.”

She offered a toothy smile. “You misheard me.”

“I know what I heard.” His eyes went flinty. “Are you from some other realm? Some other time?”

She plucked at a hem. Shrugged. “Maybe?”

He crossed his arms and stared at her. He hummed with intensity. “Does Dominic know?”

“I…ah… Know what?”

“What you are? What you really are?”

“Yes.”

He stilled. “Does he…accept it?”

“I think he does.” She set her hand on Dominic’s. It was scorching. “We were just making peace over it when he was injured.”

“Where do you
really
come from Maggie from Seattle?” There was a thread of a sneer in his voice.

“Oh, I do come from Seattle. But Seattle about seven hundred years from now.”

His jaw dropped.

“Yeah. I was as surprised as you to find myself here.”

“How did you do this?”

She shrugged. “It wasn’t on purpose, I assure you. I simply stepped into a stone circle back home and landed in yours.”

“The stone circle. Is it some kind of magical place?” This he asked with the tone of a man who didn’t believe in magical places. Then again, neither had she. Until now.

“Probably more of a temporal displacement.”

His lashes flickered.

“Listen, Declan, if I can get back home, I can get the medicine Dominic needs. I can save his life.” Hope, excitement, rose in her breast. “Please Declan. Can you take me back there? Back to the circle?”

“Aye.” His eyes narrowed. “But what if you get home, and you decide you doona want to come back? Doona want to save him?”

Her heart clenched. “I will come back,” she rasped through a raw throat. “I have to save him. I can’t live without him. I…love him.”

For the first time, his harsh expression softened.

“I want to stay here. With him. Forever.”

A pity she didn’t know if Dominic wanted the same.

Hopefully, if her plan worked, if she could get home and being back the medicine he needed, she could save him. And she would have a chance to ask him.

And if he said no…well, she’d deal with that when the time came.

* * *

She and Declan left as soon as they could, leaving Ewan with Dominic and making him promise he would not let the doctor into Dominic’s rooms. The ride back to the hunting camp took much less time than it had in the cart. Within two hours, at a fast pace, they’d traversed the valley. Though they’d been riding hard, there had been time to talk, and she and Declan had come to some semblance of peace.

She even told him of her home on the hill, her cousin, Jenny, her grandmother and the horrific dog that had started all this. She complained again about having lost her locket that day, when he hefted her over his shoulder.

That he laughed did not help her outrage.

They found the
ciorcal cloiche
with no problem whatsoever. But as she stepped between the stones, Maggie didn’t feel it, the sizzle she’d felt before.

She whirled around, arms out, willing the magic to happen.

But it did not.

There was nothing.

Not so much as a whiff of it.

“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” she said.

Declan stood just outside the circle so as not to interfere with her magic—such as it was. “Try recreating your movements.”

Maggie closed her eyes and tried to remember. Chasing the dog. Trying to catch him and then…

A chuckle filled the clearing. She stood and glared at Declan. He crossed his arms and tipped his head to the side. “Were you doing some kind of dance?”

“No. I was trying to catch the dog. And then my locket fell off and I bent to grab it—“

“This locket?” he asked, stepping forward and picking up the gold chain. The heart caught the light and flashed. 

“Oh yes. That’s it—”

But she was speaking to no one.

For just then, Declan disappeared, and the locket with him.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Maggie stared in horror at the spot Declan had been.

With him, her only chance of saving Dominic had vanished as well.

Oh, why hadn’t she taken the time to look for the locket first? She should have known it was some kind of key.

Who knew where Declan had gone. What if this portal worked willy nilly, spitting out travelers hither and yon with no rhyme or reason? Jenny had mentioned something about unstable wormholes but for the life of her she couldn’t remember what it was.

She dropped down on to a mossy hillock and wiped the tears from her eyes.

She’d really screwed things up.

First of all, she’d changed history and Liam had been killed.

Who knew if Jenny was still alive? If she ever had been?

Second of all, Dominic was at death’s door with an infection that could have been cured in days if she’d had the sense to bring him along.

Why hadn’t she thought to bring him back to Seattle with her?

Granted, he might not have survived the ride here, but still.

And finally, even if he did survive, she had to face him and confess to losing his beloved brother to some temporal beast that gobbled up anyone with the misfortune to wear a heart shaped pendant.

It was tragic.

Truly it was.

With a sigh she stood. She should go back to the castle. Sit with Dominic.

Even if Declan did make it to Seattle, he wouldn’t know where to go, or what to do to get the medicine his brother needed. And even if he succeeded, it could take a long time—days, maybe weeks—for him to complete the mission.

Dominic did not have that much time left.

She wanted to be with him while she could.

And it did occur to her that—whether he lived or died—she was stuck here now. The thought of being here without him was unendurable.

A sound behind her snared her attention. She whipped around. Her legs nearly collapsed when she saw Declan, standing there, with an enormous duffle bag over each arm. He was wearing a pair of jeans and a Seahawks jersey. His hair had been styled and his beard trimmed into an adorable scruff. He grinned. “I’m back.”

“But you just left,” she breathed.

He nodded and walked through the stone circle. “Well, that’s a temporal aberration for you. When traveling through time, time itself becomes irrelevant.”

She gaped at him. Those words…so familiar…

“Oh, Jenny says hello.”

“You saw her?”

A flush rose on his cheeks. “Aye. She helped me get the medicine we needed.”

She took one of the duffels from him and they headed for the horses. “What else did you bring back?”

“Lots of things. She thought you could use a care package.” He reached into his pocket and handed her an orange-wrapped candy bar.

God bless Jenny.

When they reached the horses, Declan stilled. He turned to her. His throat worked. “Maggie of Seattle. I owe you an apology,”

“You owe me nothing.”

“I do. I do. I was…what word did she use? A douche canoe.”

Maggie’s eyes widened. “Did Jenny call you a douche canoe?”

He grimaced. “More than once.”

Poor guy. “She’s a tough nut.”

“What does that mean?”

“She’s hard to get. You know a woman who’s difficult to win.”

His flush rose higher. His lips curled. He turned away to load the bags on the saddles. Maggie’s suspicion rose.

“How long were you there?” She had to ask. She had to know.

“Two weeks.”

“I see.” He helped her into her saddle then mounted himself. He grunted and adjusted his jeans; probably not used to riding in skin-tights.

“And you and Jenny?”

He flinched. “What?”

“Did you…” she flourished a hand.

His ears went pink, giving her the answer she needed.

“Ah… Did you get the penicillin?”

He blew out a relieved breath. “Aye. Oh aye.”

“Excellent. Then let’s go. Dominic should start a course right away.”

“Aye.” He set his heels to his horse’s flanks. With some surprise she realized he was wearing Air Jordans.

But one thought roiled in her bemused mind.

Declan and Jenny…

Imagine that.

* * *

Dominic emerged from a black fog aware of a sharp pain in his chest and fur on his tongue. He could hear bickering, and the last thing he remembered was engaging in a brutal battle with his greatest enemy, so he thought it best to lie still and listen.

“Nae. ‘Tis far too risky.” Ah. Declan. Thank God he was here.

“Risky? Doing nothing is far riskier.” His heart thumped in joy to hear Maggie’s voice. That she was bellowing at Declan was good too. “Honestly, Declan. What do you have to lose?”