The Key to Her Heart: A Highlander Time Travel Romance

by Blanche Dabney

  Chapter Thirteen

  Daisy had no idea what was waiting for her when she went to answer the door. She hadn’t slept well. She vaguely remembered having had a bad dream but she couldn’t remember anything about it.

  Tabby was obviously feeling better. When Daisy woke up a little after six she found her housemate in the kitchen making coffee, humming to herself. “The cold didn’t kill you then?” she asked as she walked in, yawning loudly a second later.

  “Definitely on the mend,” Tabby replied. “Coffee?”

  “All the caffeine. I feel like I got about ten minutes sleep.”

  “Well, you did have quite the journey last night. Middle Ages and back again on a single tank of gas. I’m impressed.”

  “Don’t joke about that, please.”

  “Sorry.” She poured two mugs of coffee and passed one to Daisy. “How are you feeling? Seriously though.”

  “I just want to forget about it all. I never want to hear anything about Jock MacGregor ever again.”

  She was just lifting the mug to her lips when she heard a knock on the front door.

  “Who’s that?” Tabby asked.

  “If only there was some way of finding out.”

  “Don’t joke. It’s six in the morning. No one knocks on the door at six in the morning. No one good, anyway.”

  “So what? Do we not answer it?”

  “I don’t know. What if it’s burglars?”

  “Would they knock first?” Daisy put her mug down, turned and headed for the front door. Through the glass she could see nothing. That was weird. Through the kitchen window she’d been able to make out the first light of dawn but through the front door window only darkness.

  There was movement. Whoever it was they weren’t outside the main door. They were inside the porch. How had they got in there?

  Feeling as if she was about to make a huge mistake, she walked up and slid the bolt back, pulling the door open. “Yes?”

  She fell over at the sight before her, stumbling backward, her knees going weak. “It’s you,” she managed to say, as a hand was held out toward her. “What are you doing here?”

  Jock held the silver key out in front of him. “You left something behind. I thought I’d give it back.”

  Tabby appeared from the kitchen. She took one look at Daisy on the floor, at Jock MacGregor, and at the silver key. “I’ll make some more coffee,” she said, vanishing back around the corner.

  Daisy took Jock’s other hand as he leaned down to her. He lifted her back up with no effort at all on his part.

  “Seriously,” she said as she got back on her feet. “What are you doing here? How did you get here?”

  “Invite him in,” Tabby shouted through from the kitchen. “Don’t just leave him standing there.”

  “Come in,” Daisy said, beckoning him into the hallway. “Come in.”

  She led him through to the living room. He stopped in the doorway, looking around him and scratching his forehead. “I never thought I’d see something like this,” he said, reaching into the pen pot on the coffee table and grabbing a handful. “So much magic in one room.”

  “Here,” Tabby said, appearing with a tray. “Sit yourself down. I brought biscuits too. I get the feeling you both might need them. You can ask him about medieval cooking, get some tips maybe?”

  With the tray set on the coffee table, she again withdrew, leaving Daisy to look across at Jock. He sat in the armchair, the sides bulging outward as his bulk squeezed into it.

  “You are not possessed by the devil,” Jock said, looking around the room again. “I apologize for thinking you were.”

  “Is that what brought you here? The need to apologize? How did you even get here?”

  “Same as you. I used the silver key.”

  He passed it to her. “This?” she said, examining it closely. “You brought it back?”

  “I am not a man accustomed to flowery talk but I must say something to you. I give you that key willingly and I make you an offer before I go. Come to my castle and I will make you most welcome.”

  “What? What are you saying?”

  “I like you, Daisy Stone. I’ve liked you since the moment you first arrived at my castle.”

  “You do realize we’re from different times right? Or has that passed you by?”

  “I dinnae care about any of that. What I care about is not letting this chance slip by. You are the first woman who has ever meant anything to me and I dinnae intend to ignore that for the sake of time. What do you say?”

  “I…I don’t know.”

  “Then think on this, Daisy. I have said my piece and I will leave it there. I go back to my time and my castle. If you wish to visit, you have the key and the choice is yours.” He got to his feet. “If you would unlock the door, I shall return to my home. I pray it might also one day be your home also.”

  He walked out into the hallway and Daisy followed at a loss for words. It was only as he was opening the front door that she managed to get a slight grip on herself. “You’re leaving already? You’ve only just got here. Don’t you want to see this world?”

  “There is nothing here for me. I belong with my people. I have much to do if I am to save them. There is a chance we will never speak again.”

  He grabbed her around the waist, pulling her to him and kissing her. As their lips touched, Daisy was about to gasp in shock. She had no time to react before she was kissing him back. Her body melted but it had no sooner began than it was ended.

  In a daze she slid the silver key into the lock, turning it one way and then the other. Her lips still tingled, her waist burning with heat from where he’d held her to him.

  He slipped out of the door and just like that he was gone. She turned around, not quite sure what had happened, running her fingers over her lips. She looked up to see Tabby at the end of the hallway. “Did he just kiss me?” she asked.

  Tabby nodded. “And you kissed him back.”

  “I did?”

  “Come on, let’s sit you down before you fall down.”

  Tabby was amazing. Utterly indifferent to the fact a medieval highlander had just visited their house from another time, she sat Daisy on the sofa, pouring her out more coffee. Then she picked up the key, comparing it to the description in her book. “Amazing,” she said at last. “I never thought I’d get to see it.”

  “Did you hear what he was saying to me?”

  “I did and I think you’re crazy for not going with him.”

  “What? You’re not serious. I can’t go with him. I barely even know him.”

  “I saw the way you two were looking at each other. I just hope someone looks at me that way someday.”

  “We…we weren’t looking at each other like anything.”

  “I’ve never seen two people more in love.”

  “He doesn’t love me. He hardly knows me.”

  “Who cares? Go see him and he’ll get to know you.”

  “No he won’t because I’m not going.”

  “Why not?” Tabby sounded angry, her voice colder.

  “Because.”

  “Not because. Because why?”

  “Because it would be crazy. I can’t go live in the Middle Ages. It’s insane.”

  “Any more insane than turning your back on your soulmate because you’re scared of giving it a try?”

  “I’m not scared.” Daisy wanted to sound stronger than she did but the words were weak, almost a whisper.

  “Yes, you are. You’re scared because it might work and if it works, you’ll stay there and be happy and you’re scared of being happy.”

  “No, I’m not. I’m…”

  “You’re what?”

  “I’m scared I’ll never see you again.”

  Tabby leaned over, putting the silver key in Daisy’s hand and closing her fingers around it. “We will see each other anytime we want. Just use the key and come visit. That is not a reason to stay here. Try again.”

  “What if you’re wr
ong? What if he doesn’t like me?”

  “Are you crazy? Did you forget the kiss already?”

  Daisy shook her head. She would never forget the kiss.

  “Then go and pack right now before the magic wears off or something.”

  “You think it might?” Daisy hadn’t considered that. She’d thought the decision was up to her. The idea of it being taken out of her hands was more scary than anything else. “Oh, crumbs. I don’t know what to do.”

  “I do,” Tabby said, pulling her to her feet. “The key is in your hand. All you have to do is unlock the door.”

  Daisy looked at her housemate who was smiling warmly at her. She threw her arms around her. “Thank you.”

  “What for?” Tabby asked.

  “For being you.”

  Then she went through to her room and pulled out a suitcase. What would she need to take with her? What couldn’t she live without? She realized there wasn’t much.

  She packed toothpaste and toothbrush, a change of clothes, the plainest shoes she had, and plenty of paper and pens.

  All the better to write down the recipes with, she thought as she zipped up the case. It wasn’t like it was forever anyway, she’d be able to come back whenever she wanted. As long as the key worked, of course.

  There was no reason to suppose it wouldn’t. It had worked so far.

  With the case packed, and after a final look around her room, she returned to the living room. “Will you be able to afford the rent without me?”

  “I’ll manage,” Tabby said. “Now go get him, tiger. And tell him to look after you.”

  They walked to the front door together. Daisy slid the silver key into the lock. “What if it doesn’t work?”

  “It will.”

  She turned the key and then pushed the door open. “This is it,” she said, turning to look at Tabby. “Am I doing the right thing?”

  “Go find out.”

  Daisy stepped through the door. Tabby took a look through at the bedchamber on the other side. “Not my cup of tea,” she said before pulling the door closed, leaving Daisy alone.

  Jock turned at the sound of Tabby’s voice. He looked surprised to see Daisy.

  “Did you not think I’d come?” she asked.

  “Not after this long.”

  “What do you mean? It’s only been a couple of minutes.”

  He shook his head as he walked over to her. “It’s been hours.”

  “You look angry. Should I not have come?”

  “I’m not angry with you.” He slid in hands into hers, dwarfing them with his huge fingers. “I am mighty glad you’ve come.”

  “Then what is it? You’re upset about something.”

  He sighed. “It is nothing you need concern yourself with.”

  “Right,” she said, pulling her hands free and prodding his chest, surprised by how solid it felt, like prodding a rock. “Let’s get one thing clear. No secrets. I don’t know how far back feminism goes but I’m not going to be a wallflower in your life. I want to be part of it if I’m staying, right?”

  He looked furious for a moment but then he smiled. The grin lit up his face, filling it with warmth. “You would make a bonny laird’s wife,” he said. “That was spoken like a true MacGregor.”

  “So what is it?” she asked. “What’s the problem?”

  “The king comes to visit this evening. I promised to lend him money for his latest campaign.”

  “So?”

  “I haven’t the money.”

  “Oh, that’s quite a problem.”

  “My financier took over control of the treasury from my father. He forged my signature on the assignation and took the money. It’s hidden somewhere but he refuses to say where. If I don’t find it before the king gets here, it’ll be my head that pays for his crime.”

  Daisy thought for a moment before smiling. “I think I might be able to help.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jock knew she would come back. He was sure of it from the moment he kissed her. That kiss confirmed everything he suspected. She would come back.

  Nonetheless, he was surprised when the door to his bedchamber opened and she walked in. Perhaps it was because she’d come so quietly, or maybe it was because he’d thought she would join him straight away.

  Instead, he’d had hours of time to wonder if maybe he was wrong. Time to wonder what would happen if she didn’t come back before the king arrived. Would she come back to find he’d already been executed? Did time pass at different rates for the two of them? What were the rules of all this anyway?

  He decided it was better not to think about such things. Once he had returned to his own time, with a handful of pens to add to his collection, he settled at the table in his room, writing what might prove to be his last will and testament. Once that was done, he went to visit his father in the infirmary.

  “How is he?” he asked Alan upon his arrival.

  “I would be lying if I said well. He is fading, I am afraid. It is the strangest thing. I could have sworn it was poison. That is the only thing I know to have such an effect. Look at the protrusion of veins there in his arms, the tightening of the muscles around his neck.”

  Jock looked down at the figure underneath the blankets. That was his father, the man who had been known to split logs with a single blow of an ax, the only man ever to swim all the way to Kirrin Island and back in under an hour. He was little more than a shade of his former self.

  “Poison,” the parrot called out from the preparation room. “Poison, poison, poison.”

  Alan crossed over the room and pulled the door closed, muffling the sound of the bird. “I will do what I can for him,” he said when he returned. “You have my word.”

  “Call me the moment he wakes,” Jock said, taking a last look at his stricken father before leaving the infirmary. Next, he visited the dungeon and tried his best to get Robin to confess.

  The man had an inhuman ability to withstand pain. No matter what Jock did to him, he said nothing, only laughed bitterly and mocked his laird for his foolishness.

  “You should let me go before it’s too late,” Robin said, spitting out blood while Jock wiped his knuckles clean. “I will put in a good word for you with the king. Tell him you spent it all and beg his forgiveness on your behalf.”

  “Why are you doing this?” Jock asked. “Have I not treated you well over the years? And my father before me? Why would you betray your own blood? I dinnae understand.”

  “People change,” Robin said, grinning up at him.

  “I trusted you. The clan trusted you. I cannae believe you are the man my father trusted to take care of our finances.”

  “Your father?” Robin spat, his voice suddenly deeper than usual. “I will have my revenge on him and on you.”

  He said nothing else, no matter what Jock said or did. In the end he left the financier to the darkness and headed upstairs.

  He returned to his room and took up the MacGregor clan book, his pen at the ready to add a few paragraphs of his own. He had barely written a sentence before the door opened behind him and he heard a woman’s voice.

  He turned and there she was.

  They talked for hours. He told her all about Robin and how strange it was that a man he had known and trusted for years would be capable of such an act of treachery. He told her how Robin was refusing to talk, how angry that made him.

  He told her about his parents, about their rapid decline over the last year. He even told her what he knew of the barefoot man, the few snippets of information he had gleaned from his father. He ended by passing her the letter he had received.

  “The key to her heart,” Daisy read out loud. “Is that what you think?” She looked at the silver key, smiling as she did so.

  “I think I’m glad you decided to come back.”

  “Let me get all this straight. If you can find the lost money, you can fund the king’s campaign and keep your head. It doesn’t matter if Robin talks or not then, does it? A
s long as you find where he’s hidden the missing treasure.”

  “Aye, I suppose not but how else could I find it without his confession. It could be anywhere.”

  She stood up, crossing to the window in time to see the sun rising over the mountains. “It’s truly a beautiful place here,” she said, turning to face him again. “Isn’t it?”

  “I suppose so. I’ve never really given it much thought.”

  “Do something for me.”

  “What?”

  “Tell the king you have the money.”

  “But I havenae.”

  “You will have.” She crossed the room to the door and unlocked it. “I shall be back as quick as I can.”

  Then she was gone before he could say another word. He opened the door to look for her but there was just the empty corridor outside.

  The king arrived in the late afternoon. The cloud of dust on the horizon was the first sign of him, a long, long line of horses and knights guarding him on his travels. The horn sounded upon first sight of him, bringing Jock out of his reverie.

  At the time he was in the infirmary, sitting by his father who was fading fast, his skin turning paler. Lachlan was dealing with the preparations for the king’s arrival.

  Jock sat feeling useless. “If I knew what it was, I could treat it,” Alan kept saying. “If only I knew what it was.”

  Jock could do nothing to help other than watch him dying. In a way, he was glad of the king’s approach. It would serve as a distraction.

  The gates were thrown open and the first of the royal staff passed through, filling the courtyard, their furs and fine colors drawing comment from the watching MacGregors.

  Jock stood by the well, waiting. The king climbed down from his horse, his armor more functional than decorative, a sign of the regular assassination attempts he had endured over the last few years.

  He looked too clean for a warrior, not that anyone would say that to his face. He was not a man to mock, many who had done so were dead by his hand. He marched up to Jock who bowed in response.