Contents
Book Blurb
Title
A Note from the Author
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
EPILOGUE
Copyright Page
Dear Reader~
Book List
Acknowledgments
About the Author
What do you get when you mix Highlanders, Time Travel, and Faerie Magic? The second book in Melissa Mayhue’s Magic of Time Series!
Highlands of Scotland - 1295
Patrick MacDowylt’s future holds no surprises. As third son of the clan, this Highland warrior has no prospects other than to serve as right hand to his older brother, the laird. Falling in love was never in his plans, especially not when the woman who has stolen his heart is a full-blood Fae. The only thing that could possibly complicate his life more is returning home to learn that the love of his life has disappeared without a trace.
Ft. Collins, Colorado - 1968
Elesyria Aĺ Byrn has spent a lifetime willfully following her heart instead of her head. Once again, her heart has lead her into trouble, just as she’s discovered the man she’s sought for a lifetime. With the Faerie home world embroiled in a power struggle, rife with political intrigue, Syrie suffers the consequences of her rash behavior. Stripped of her Magic and her memory, she’s cast into the Oblivion of Time, to land in a era completely foreign to her, where she struggles to make a place for herself.
To rescue Syrie, Patrick must follow her through time and restore her memory of him or face being stranded in the wrong century. And even if he’s successful in bringing her back, he’ll still need to protect her from the Fae who condemned her to this fate. This time he’s facing the biggest battle of his life, armed with nothing more than his love for Syrie.
Length: Approximately 300 pages
Ages: 18 and up [Story contains sex, mild profanity]
Anywhere In Time is the second in Melissa Mayhue’s Magic of Time Series. Welcome back to the world of Faeries and Magic!
ANYWHERE IN TIME
MAGIC OF TIME SERIES
Book Two
by
Melissa Mayhue
© 2015 by Melissa Mayhue. All rights reserved
A Note from the Author:
Over the years, I’ve always enjoyed reading a good fantasy. But too often they wouldn’t end the way I wanted them to and I’d hurry back to my Romance shelf, seeking the Happily Ever After ending I craved. Then one day, I stumbled upon a Time Travel Romance by Flora Speer and this wonderful new combination of genres quickly became my very favorite books of all. It was only natural that when I wrote my first book in 2005 - Thirty Nights with a Highland Husband - it would be a Time Travel Romance. Fourteen books and one novella later, and I still love getting lost in time with a handsome Highlander!
For those of you who have read my Daughters of the Glen series and Warrior series, this series will feel like coming home. If you look closely, you’ll find some familiar characters wandering through — and perhaps even starring in!— this new series.
Welcome back to the world of Faeries and Time Travel. Welcome to the Magic of Time Series!
Here’s the list of stories so far:
1 -All the Time You Need
(Alex and Annie’s story)
2 - Anywhere In Time
(Syrie and Patrick’s story)
Want to stay informed as new books become available? Sign up for my New Release Newsletter!
— Melissa
Prologue
Highlands of Scotland
1295
“I thought I’d find you out here.”
Startled, Syrie turned to find Patrick MacDowylt striding toward her. As always, he moved confidently, though his every step was silent. Everything about the man, from his long black hair to the glint in his deep blue eyes, struck her as somehow lethal, reminding her of an enormous cat of prey. Truly, he was a man born to be a warrior of the highest grade.
“I enjoy the evenings out here in the garden,” she said as he stopped at her side.
It was no lie, though it wasn’t her real reason for being in the garden tonight. With yesterday’s wedding behind her, Syrie had no doubt but that the Goddess would be contacting her to relay her displeasure with Syrie’s careless fit of anger. Here, in the open glory of nature, would be the most likely spot for the Goddess to speak to her. It was also far enough from the keep that, should the Goddess see fit to discipline her, the other inhabitants of Castle MacGahan would be safe.
“I should miss this place so very much were I to…” But this wasn’t something she needed to share with Patrick, so she changed what she’d been about to say. “I take it you were looking for me?” she asked. “Am I needed in the keep?”
“No,” he answered, his usual grin lifting one corner of his mouth. “Not in the keep. I sought you out to say my farewell in private.”
“What?” Her voice cracked on the word. How could he possibly know about—
“I wanted to tell you that I’ll be leaving at first light. I’m leading the company that will escort Chase and Christiana on their return to Tordenet. Now that Torquil has been vanquished, my sister and her husband can begin the next phase in their lives together. I’ve agreed to assist them in setting things to rights as they settle in.”
“Oh.” Of course, he hadn’t known about her situation. How could he possibly? “Now that I think on it, I believe I did hear Christiana speaking of their plan to return to her home after Hall and Bridget were wed. She even might have mentioned that you were going with them.”
She’d heard the news and had chosen to ignore it. Or, more accurately, she’d heard and hoped it was untrue. Castle MacGahan without Patrick would be a much less interesting place.
“And here I’d hoped to be the one to tell you.” Again that infectious grin lit his face. “Still, I could hardly leave without saying farewell to our resident Elf.”
“You know well enough, Patrick MacDowylt, I’m not an Elf—”
“But a Faerie,” he finished for her, laughter underlying his words. “Yes, I believe I’ve heard you make mention of that very thing a time or two.”
In spite of his incessant teasing, the thought of his leaving turned her stomach sour and filled her with an emptiness she was at a loss to explain.
“You’ll take care in your travels, will you not? And send word, now and then. For…for your brother’s sake, that is. He’ll worry himself over your safety, I’m sure. And should you decide not to return—”
The catch in her own voice caught her by surprise. How foolish she was! No man, especially no mere mortal, could ever be worth her shedding a tear. And yet, as she prepared to say farewell to Patrick, she found her throat pulling tight and her eyes misting over.
“Aye,” he said, moving so close to her that she almost forgot how to take her next breath. “But you’ve no cause to fash yerself over my absence, sweet Elf. It’s no’ like I could stay away from this place forever. No�
� this place and definitely no’ you.”
Before she could respond, before she could even think of how to respond, his lips were on hers, and she found herself unable to think at all. She felt as if she’d been transported, lighter than air, to a place far away where only the two of them existed. It was as if her very soul sprang to life, filling her with an unimaginable joy.
When his mouth broke away from hers, she sucked in a shaky breath. Her fingertips untangled from the silken mass of his hair where they had mysteriously found their way, and rose to cover the lips that now felt bereft of the exquisite physical touch they’d just experienced.
“I,” she began, her mind reeling with thoughts she couldn’t quite seem to form into coherent utterances. “You…”
“Apologies,” he murmured, so close his breath fanned over her. “I doona ken why I—apologies for my mistake, my lady.”
Abruptly, Patrick turned and strode away, leaving her more confused than she’d ever felt in her very long life.
Through her confusion, one thing became quite clear in her thoughts. That kiss…whatever else it might have been, it was certainly no mistake.
Chapter 1
Highlands of Scotland
1295
Three months.
Elesyria Aĺ Byrn brushed a stray lock of hair from her face and stared out into the distance. Three months had passed since the wedding of Halldor O’Donar and Bridget MacCulloch. Three months and one day had passed since she’d lost her temper and so rashly used her Magic in a manner strictly forbidden to her.
Three months.
A long enough time that any normal person might be lulled into a sense of safety under the false belief that the Goddess had chosen to ignore her transgression.
But Syrie wasn’t any normal person. She was Faerie. And she knew that three months meant nothing to her people. Time passed differently for the nearly immortal race of Fae than it did for other, more short-lived creatures like the Mortals with whom she had chosen to live.
Regardless of how they viewed time, her people had an intense intolerance for disobedience. And the visit she’d had just this morning from the Tinkler, Editha Faas, confirmed that the Fae were well-aware of her indiscretion. Well-aware of it and preparing to take action.
Unable to stand still any longer, Syrie began to pace, making a circle around the parapet, taking in the scenery of the surrounding countryside, bathed in the glow of the setting sun.
She would miss the beauty of this world. She would miss the people here who had become so dear to her.
She would miss one person in particular more than all the others.
No doubt her punishment would entail her returning to Wyddecol, the Faerie home world. At best, she could expect to spend the next few centuries serving the Goddess in her Temple, lowest of the low in the order of Danu’s Maidens. One did not disobey the Earth Mother and expect to go unpunished.
But for her, a sentence of centuries might as well be a lifetime. Though she would age little, his life would be over before she could return.
With a sigh, she stopped and pressed her back against the outer wall. Life had rarely been fair to her, but feeling sorry for herself would hardly help. It never had. There was nothing to be gained from wallowing in this bout of self-pity. She was merely wasting what little time she had left here in this world. She had always prided herself in being able to find something positive in any situation, no matter how dark. This situation was no exception. Now, more than ever, she needed to reach for the light and find some small positive to hold on to.
Confinement to Wyddecol, to the Temple, would allow her to reunite with her friend, Nalindria Ré Alyn. Sweet, shy Nally, a woman so devoted to the Goddess she’d chosen permanent service at the Temple as the course for her life. Syrie couldn’t count the times she’d hoped some of Nally’s devotion and meek acceptance of life would rub off on her. She also couldn’t count the times she’d berated that same friend to be more assertive, more self-serving.
Seeing Nally again would be good. Life in the Temple would be good. Everything would be good, if not for the mess she’d made for herself.
She scrubbed her hands over her face before staring up at the darkening sky, her heart filled with a longing stronger than any she’d ever felt before.
If only he were here now. If only she’d controlled her temper better. If only she hadn’t used her Magic so rashly.
But she had. And though what she’d done was strictly forbidden, she couldn’t regret the act itself. Using her Magic to bring together all those souls who were meant to be together might be the single most important thing she’d ever accomplished in the whole of her life, even if it was forbidden for her to have done it.
Too late to worry over the consequences now. She’d done what she’d done and now the flow of events was set in motion and far beyond her ability to control or change.
Her one big regret was that they’d likely come for her before Patrick returned to Castle MacGahan.
There were so many things she would like to have said to him before he’d gone north to help his sister and brother-in-law settle in at Tordenet. But, as too often had been the case in her life, foolish pride had kept her from speaking up once she’d realized what feelings she carried for the big warrior. Foolish pride and fear that he’d likely not hold the same feelings for her as she held for him. Especially not after the way he’d reacted to that unexpected kiss.
His mistake, he’d called it.
Now, as she felt her time here slipping away from her, she deeply regretted not having confronted her feelings for him sooner. Regretted not having confronted him as to his feelings, if any, for her.
Patrick MacDowylt was hardheadedly stubborn, unrelentingly sure of himself, and easily the most annoying male she had ever met, Faerie or Mortal. But he was also thoughtful and kind, and handsome in a way that had wormed his very essence securely into her heart. The thought of never seeing him again carried with it a bitter pain that lodged deeply in her chest, threatening at times like this to steal away her ability to breathe.
“What will be, will be,” she murmured into the rising breeze. “It is as the Goddess wills.”
“We are surprised to hear you still acknowledge that little fact, Elesyria, based on how you’ve repeatedly ignored the will of the Goddess.”
Syrie pressed her back against the large wooden door, scanning the parapet for the owner of the disembodied voices ringing in her ears. Though she was alone, the voices continued, a murmur from somewhere behind her ears, deep inside her head.
“The time has come for you to pay penance for your disobedience.”
As she had known it would. If only-
Her thoughts were cut short as a wall of emerald-green light descended in front of her. Slowly, the wall began to part, like a curtain being pulled back, and the scenery before her eyes split and wrinkled, revealing the blinding green vista of Wyddecol.
Regret pounded in her heart like the blood pulsing through her veins and she turned her head for one final glimpse of the Mortal world as she stepped through the opening, leaving that which she held dearest behind her.
Chapter 2
Now what?
Patrick MacDowylt masked his impatience, pasting a smile on his face to greet his sister’s hurried approach. It wasn’t Christiana’s fault that his leaving Tordenet had been delayed so many times. It wasn’t the fault of any one being he could point to. The delays had just seemed to keep coming, especially after he realized why he was so anxious to return to Castle MacGahan.
“Thank the Fates I caught you, Paddy,” Christiana said breathlessly, using the old endearment he’d rarely heard since their childhood.
She laid her hand on his arm as she reached him, her tension seeping into his skin as if it were a living thing.
“What troubles you, little sister?”
“Orabilis,” she answered. “I’ve a feeling something has gone wrong on her journey back to her cottage. It’s as if…” She paus
ed, shaking her head, her eyes filled with worry. “It’s as if I can hear her calling out to me for help.”
If the old witch who’d raised his sister after their mother’s death were to be in need of help, Patrick had little doubt but that it would be Christiana who would be in her thoughts. And, considering Christiana’s Gifts, he could hardly discount her concern.
“What would you have of me?”
“I ken yer anxious to be on yer way, brother, and I’d ask this of Chase if he hadn’t already left with the herdsmen to inspect the condition of the winter grazing pastures.”
“And?” Patrick encouraged, biting back on his need to speed her along in the explanations so that he might find out what fresh new delay the Fates had in store for him.
“Could you check upon her for me? Please? It should be no great deviation from your own route, as you’ll be traveling along the same roads she took.” Christiana dipped her head before casting a glance up at him. “More or less.”
Exactly as he’d feared. The delay hid itself in the more or less portion of his sister’s rationalization. In truth, the path he’d take would follow Orabilis’ own only for a few miles before he’d need to break to the south.
Not that he would deny Christiana the assistance she sought, not when she’d asked so little of him over the years. And most especially not when her husband was away doing exactly what Patrick had advised him to do to prepare for the coming winter.
“Very well,” he said, smiling down at her. “Though I’ve little doubt that yer old witch is perfectly fine, I’ll see to her well-being, myself.”
“Oh, Paddy,” Christiana squealed, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. “Yer such a fine brother. I’m going to miss you, you ken? Yer always welcome here at Tordenet. It is, after all, yer home as much as it is mine.”
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