"You know about football?" Kris was incredulous.
"Aye, I know something of it. My màthair told us stories about it and e'en explained some of the moves to the game. My brothers and I enjoyed it verra much as did the guards and men at arms."
"I love football. I'm addicted to it. My brothers got me hooked a few years ago, then when the Pats went to the Super bowl, wow, that was just the best. They've won a few of those, even though they lost this year. They almost had a perfect season too. I was not happy with them for a bit." She shrugged, "I got over it though. There's always next year." She stopped, wondering if she'd be there next year to see if they won or not. She waved the thought aside, "anyway, what else did your mother tell you? What were some of your sister's favorite stories?"
Iain thought a moment, trying to remember.
"I dinnae know. She always liked the romantic stories. There was one that my brothers and I enjoyed listening to as well sometimes. Aye, it was something of a romance, but it had wars and battles in it also. I dinnae recall the name, but I recall the people lived on a grand estate called Tara. My màthair always spoke wi' a passing strange accent when she told us that particular tale."
Kris gasped, "Gone With The Wind." She clapped her hands, "that's one of my favorite movies. Oh, err, stories."
"Ye know of that tale?"
"Of course I do. It's one of my favorites. I love Rhett Butler."
"Hmm," was all Iain replied.
"Anything else you can remember?"
Iain furrowed his brow in concentration then shook his head, "nay. No' right now, leastwise. I may think of something else later, but for now, I think 'tis enough. Do ye have any ideas about when she may be from?"
"Not yet, but I'm getting closer. I know it has to be sometime in the twentieth century at least, otherwise she wouldn't know about these things." She started to get up. "I think now we need to go buttonhole your màthair."
"Ye mean confront her?'
"That's exactly what I mean." Kris began repacking all the leftover food in the saddlebag. That done, she handed the bag to Iain and shook out the plaid, handing that to him as well. "I sure wish I had my backpack with me."
"Why is that?" Iain felt a stab of guilt at her words.
"Because then I could show you some of the things you mentioned. I had a cd player in there, a cell phone, oh all kinds of things you'd be fascinated by. And my favorite thing, coffee." She sighed with yearning, and looked at Iain seriously, "they could also get me burned at the stake for a witch." She met his gaze. "It's not a big deal, really. I'd just like to show you some of the things, that's all."
She thought of the pictures of her family contained in that bag. It would have been nice to have them as well. Then again, her school id and her license were also in there, so maybe it was a good thing it was lost.
They mounted their horses and made their way back through the trees and across the meadow to the keep. Coming to a stop in the bailey, Iain helped her to dismount, then took their horses by the reins and led them into the stable. He left them in the care of the stable master. Normally he would have seen to them himself, but he had more urgent matters wi' his màthair too tend to. Matters he did not wish to put off any longer.
He also had some serious thinking to do about Kristianna's pack. He still had it hidden away in his rooms, but had begun to feel the sting of guilt over keeping it from her, especially now. He should really return it to her. 'Twas her property and only right for her to have it. Aye, he nodded thoughtfully, as he came to stand in front of her, he would see it returned to her after they had spoken with his màthair.
Kris noticed Iain's thoughtful look and wondered at it briefly. Perhaps he was concerned about this confrontation with his mother. It was quite a bafflement as to why the lady had kept such a thing a secret, especially in light of Kris' appearance. Kris had a million questions to put to Sorcha herself. First and foremost, had she ever tried to return to her own time? If she had, it couldn't have been successful as she was still here. Or had she chosen to remain?
She gave Iain a sidelong glance as they made their way into the keep and to his mother's chambers. The camaraderie they shared today was new to her. She'd only shared a bit of something like it with her siblings and Hailey before. She'd certainly never had it with David. It frightened her a little now.
Her grandparents had it, of course. She'd never seen a couple more devoted to each other, or more in love. It was a love that lasted, even after her grandfather's death several years before her grandmother. It was what Kris had hoped to find, once upon a time.
Now, she wasn't convinced that kind of love and devotion existed anymore. Not for her anyway. Not after her experiences with David and a few others over the years as well. Maybe her grandmother had been right when she'd told her she was dating the wrong kind of men, that she'd never find what she was looking for with them.
She shrugged off those thoughts. There wasn't much she could do about any of that now, anyway. She should concentrate on the questions she had for lady Sorcha. She glanced at Iain again. He really was a very handsome man. Not just on the outside, but on the inside as well.
Oh, he might portray himself as gruff and unapproachable, grouchy even. But she'd seen a different side to him today. In retelling her tales of his childhood, she saw a man who still had a sense of humor, who had honor and chivalry, though he didn't drag it out and show it often.
In his laughter and teasing, she'd seen the boy he had been She could picture him as a mischievous little boy who'd grown to manhood and had to deal with the harsh realities of his world, from his brothers going off to battle and hearing nothing from them for several years, to his father's death and his sisters' disappearance. He was gruff and hard because that's what he thought he had to be in order to keep his clan and family alive. He had a love of laughter that Kris caught glimpses of, but that he quickly tried to hide from all.
Before she could continue along with these thoughts, they arrived at the door to his mother's chambers.
Iain looked at her a moment, gave her a swift kiss and proceeded to knock on the door. Kris nearly forgot to breathe.
"What was that for?" She managed.
Iain grinned at her and opened his mouth to speak when the door was opened by Elsbeth.
"Later." He whispered, before turning his attention to Elsie. "We ha'e come to speak wi' my màthair, Elsie. And doonae think to dissuade me in this either. It willnae work. I ha'e questions to put to her that willnae wait for answers."
Elsie looked from Iain to Kris and back again, then shrugged and opened the door to let them in. Sorcha sat in a comfortable chair by the fire, her long hair loose, her feet propped up in front of her. She offered them a smile even as she bade them sit.
"Ye look as if ye have been enjoying the fresh air." Her eyes twinkled with delight as she took note of the fact that Iain held Kris' hand in his.
Kris pulled her hand out of Iain's, clasped her fingers together and gave Sorcha an embarrassed smile.
"We have. Iain took me for a ride and a picnic." She paused, "his horse is marvelous and very large, but quite well mannered. I find his name very interesting, however." She glanced at Iain then back at Sorcha, "Elvis is an odd choice for this time period, don't you think?"
Sorcha actually flinched. She brought her hand to her mouth and shook her head.
"Oh dear." She said after a moment. "I hadnae thought of that."
"So it would seem, màthair." Iain finally spoke. "Ye should ha'e had more foresight and realized when ye insisted I take Kris out to show her the countryside what would happen. We had a verra long conversation this afternoon. 'Twould seem, my lady, that ye and she are well acquainted wi' many things," he quirked a single brow at her, "things from the same time period."
His màthair looked away, cleared her throat, and gazed into the fire for several long minutes. Finally, she looked at Kris and smile apologetically.
"I am sorry, Kris, for no' telling ye the truth of it so
oner. But I really didn't know what to say. Nobody around here knows about it, except for Elsie, of course, and she would have guarded my secret into her grave if necessary."
"I have so many questions for you." Kris began.
"I know you must. I imagine Iain has as well. I'm sure neither of ye are too happy with me at the moment either." She looked at her son, "Well, are ye going to spit it out, or are ye just going to sit there brooding?"
"Why did ye ne'er tell me? Why did ye keep it a secret all these years? If I had known about it, I would ha'e ne'er accused Kris of being a witch. She could ha'e been burned at the stake, màthair." His voice rose a notch or two and Kris looked at him in surprise.
Sorcha shook her head, "I ne'er would have let ye go that far. I dinnae e'en know ye had accused her of such a vile crime, otherwise I would ha'e set ye straight immediately."
Iain shook his head, still baffled. "Ye talk like a Scots woman, though. Kris has a passing strange accent, one that disappears altogether at times. Ye dinnae have any, unless one listens carefully to ye, of course." He looked at her a moment in silence, "although I can recall a time or two ye lost it near to completely when ye got angry enough. That hasnae happened since I was verra young though."
Sorcha smiled at her son, "aye, and if I recall correctly, those were times ye or your brothers had caused some mischief I likely should ha'e tanned your hides for." She shook her head and put a gentle hand on Iain's knee, "as for why I ha'e no accent for the most part, Iain, I have been in this century, in this country, since I was twenty-one. I am now close to sixty-three. In all those years, doonae ye think I would ha'e picked up a bit of the Scots, as well as the attitude that goes along wi' being a highlanders wife?"
"So what century are you really from? Or maybe I should ask what year you are from?" Kris clenched her hands together so tight, her knuckles turned white as she held her breath, waiting for the answer.
"I'm from the twentieth century." Sorcha stated, then smile when both Iain and Kris gasped. "Yes, dear," she reached out and patted Kris' knee in sympathy, "I know, 'tis quite a wonder is it not?"
"But, how? How did you get here? I mean, what happened that you ended up in this time? And is there any way for me to get home that you know of? Why did you never go back to your own time? Did you even try to get home? Can you tell me if there is any way possible to return me to my own time? Do you know any way at all?"
Sorcha held up a hand, taking quick note of the stricken look on Iain's face as Kris talked about returning to her own time.
"One question at a time, Kris. I promise, I will answer all of them," she looked at Iain, "and yours as well, Iain. Why doonae we send for something to eat and then we shall all ha'e a nice long chat and I will answer all your questions."
Iain hesitated before he nodded his ascent to his màthair's suggestion. Kris looked ready to argue when Sorcha turned her glance her way, but finally sighed and hesitantly agreed.
A sense of relief washed over Sorcha, for now she would have a few moments to collect her thoughts before the inquisition began. She shook her head at her foolishness. She had only been thinking of how perfect for Iain Kris was when she'd convinced Iain to take her on a picnic. Elsbeth had warned her to proceed carefully, too just let things happen if they were meant too, but had she listened? No, of course not. 'Twas that same determination and persistence, and curiosity, that had gotten her thrown back into the sixteenth century in the first place.
She nodded to Elsie, who went to see to a meal for them all, then sat back in her chair and let the memories come. She hadn't really thought about them overly much through the many years she'd lived in this century. Not until Kris had appeared with her tale of being from the future.
Iain looked at Kris, then reached out and grasped her hand in his again. Her fingers were like ice in his large hand and he sought to warm them. She offered him a small smile, but it did not quite reach her eyes.
After some of the stories she had told him that morning of all her future marvels, he could understand her desire to return home. He especially understood her great desire to reunite with her siblings. He too had had a close relationship wi' his brothers and his sister. He missed them sorely and again wondered what had become of them.
Though he'd sent scout's out dozens of times in all directions, still there was no sign of his sister. His brothers were another matter. At least they had a reason for sending no word. If they were involved in battle it would certainly be a hard thing to accomplish.
Kris looked down at her hand entwined with Iain's and was overcome by doubts and uncertainty. Looking at their entwined fingers, she couldn't tell where his hand ended and hers began. The feeling of his warm hand in hers was right. Confused by this unexpected reaction to his touch, she took a deep breath and let it out, trying to settle her emotions, put them in some kind of order so she could think and sort out her questions.
She hoped she could ask them in a logical manner without babbling like an idiot. She looked down again, comforted by the simple contact of her hand in Iain's, amazed how the sensation wrapped around her like a warm blanket. If she could find a way to return home, did she really want to? She mentally shook her head. Of course she did. She belonged in her own century, in her own world, not in his.
Elsbeth returned just as Kris was beginning to wonder if she ever would. She was trailed by several maids, each carrying a heavily loaded tray.
"Would ye like to eat by the fire, my lady?" She asked Sorcha, who nodded.
Kris reluctantly released Iain's hand when he rose to move a table nearer to the warmth of the fire. Chairs were placed around it and it was quickly and efficiently set up, tablecloth and all, for them to dine at.
Sorcha rose gracefully from her chaise and Iain held out her chair for her. Once she was seated comfortably close to the blaze, he saw to Kris, and then sat himself. There was no small talk, only the sound of the crackling fire and the maids bustling about making sure everything was seen too.
Elsbeth soon shooed them out of the room.
"Will there be anything else, my lady?"
Sorcha glanced at her, an eyebrow raised. "Such formality, Elsie. Come," she waved an elegant hand at her, "sit with us and have something to eat. There's enough here to feed an army and you know how I hate waste."
Elsbeth chuckled but brought over another chair and sat between Sorcha and Kris.
"Ye just want me here as a buffer dinnae ye?"
Sorcha smiled, "mayhap something like that. Ye know my story well, Elsie and I would have ye help me in the retelling of it, if ye please."
Elsbeth nodded even as she helped herself to some food. "I will do my best, my lady." Her eyes twinkled when Sorcha glared at her.
"Now," Sorcha said after she had filled her plate, "where shall I begin?"
"How about at the beginning, màthair. 'Tis usually the best and most logical place to start."
"Hush." She gave him a purely motherly look. "I know that, but I'm certain ye dinnae want me to begin wi' my birth, do ye?"
Kris shook her head before Iain could speak. "I have so many questions." Kris said again.
"Aye, I know ye do, and I will do my best to answer them all for you." Sorcha looked at Iain, "will ye pour some wine please?"
Iain nodded and reached for the bottle. As he poured, he glanced at Kris. Her face was pale, the stress and strain of waiting for answers showed clearly on her face. He started to say something to his màthair about it, but she spoke instead.
"One thing I most definitely miss about the twentieth century is coffee." She smiled when Kris gasped.
"What year though? The twentieth century covers a lot of years."
Sorcha nodded slowly as she sipped her wine. "It does." She agreed. "But we're probably closer in age than you realize, my dear. Or would have been, if I'd stayed in my time." She took another sustaining drink before she plunged ahead. "I was at a New Year's Eve party with some friends of mine. It was a very big night for me because the week before
I had turned twenty-one." She looked at Kris, "I'm sure you can understand the significance of that."
Kris nodded vigorously, hoping Sorcha wouldn't stop now.
She didn't. "Just before midnight, I excused myself to go to the lady's room, amid several of my friends admonishing me to hurry, of course. I went as fast as I could, but the crowds were immense and difficult to get through. I finally made it." She smiled wistfully, remembering, "I was just washing my hands when the clock started chiming midnight. I tried to hurry, but couldn't get past the crowd in front of the lady's room door. Why they chose to congregate there, I'll never know." She shrugged again.
"Just as the clock struck its last chime, I felt the floor shift beneath me. I had an odd sense of inertia and reached to grab whomever I could, there were plenty of people to latch onto. My hand grabbed nothing. The lights above me spun at a dizzying speed and the sudden pain in my head made me think it was about to split in two. The next thing I knew, I was standing in the middle of a field full of heather." She looked at Iain, "Your father rescued me from some overzealous ruffians who were intent on having their way with me before they burned me at the stake as a witch. They'd seen me 'spring from the grass' they said."
She reached out and patted Kris' hand. "I know how hard it must be for you. I remember my first weeks here. They weren't easy at all. Eventually, I fell in love with Iain's father. We married and I lived out my life happily with him until the day he died."
"You never tried to return?" Kris asked.
Sorcha opened her mouth to answer, but Iain jumped in first. "Afore ye answer that question, màthair, what year exactly are ye from?"
Timeless Mist Page 16
