A Turn In Time: Book 5 of The Thistle & Hive Series

by Jennae Vale

  “I dinnae care. There’s nary a thing here fer me I’m sorry to say.” There really wasn’t. It hadn’t taken much for him to come to that realization.

  “I’m coming with ye then. I realized how much I missed Breaghacraig all these years. This is nae me home. Yer father is nae the man I wish to serve.” Logan appeared hopeful that Dougall would agree to allow him to come along.

  “Yer welcome to join us. I ken Cormac and Cailin will be most pleased to have ye back, as will Robert.” It would be good to get Logan out of here. Out of the constant worry of doing something to disappoint the Laird. And it would be good to have his old friend back with him. It was beneficial that he’d had the chance to spend the last week with him. It reminded Dougall that they had once been the very best of friends and hopefully could be again.

  The two men smiled warmly at each other as Dougall handed him the reins to Broch.

  “Take care of me horse. I willnae be long.”

  “I’ll get Helene’s mount as well,” Logan offered.

  “Aye. Thank ye.”

  Dougall walked away from Logan with a look of confidence that he didn’t necessarily feel. His father was not going to take this well, but he’d made up his mind.

  Entering the Great Hall, he couldn’t say he was surprised to see Greer Matheson, her sister Gillian and his brother Fingall all seated around the fire. He’d been warned they would be here. He steeled himself as Greer stood and immediately came to his side.

  “Dougall! I havenae seen ye since we were bairns. Ye’ve grown to be quite a handsome man.” She placed a dainty hand upon his chest. “I’m pleased I’ll be yer wife.”

  He barely remembered her. She was a lovely lass to look at, but he loved Helene and he intended to marry her, not Greer. He removed her hand from his chest. She wasn’t going to like this, but it had to be said. “I’m afraid I cannae be yer husband, Greer. Me heart belongs to another.”

  Her silky, sweet voice became harsh as her body stiffened. “If ye mean that serving wench, I cannae believe ye would choose her over me.” Then just as quickly her voice changed again. This time to the voice of a seductress. She ran a finger down his arm, and took his hand, never once taking her gaze from his eyes. “She is an awful, ugly wench. She threw cold water over me head when she was supposed to be helping me bathe. Yer father has punished her.”

  Dougall swiftly moved away from her, leaving her with a disappointed expression on her face. “What do you mean? Where is she?” The fear and anxiety he’d been feeling upon first arriving, was back.

  “I dinnae ken what he did with her, but she deserved whatever she received. I am a lady and she’s nothing more than a common serving wench.” Greer spun and went back to her sister and Fingall, whose smiles made it clear they thought the whole exchange amusing.

  Dougall resisted the urge to shake this infuriating woman. He had to find his father. “Fingall where is Da?” he barked.

  “I believe he’s out by the practice field, brother. ’Tis good to see ye, but ye’d best abide by his wishes. Ye havenae been here in years, so ye’ve nae been privy to his temper.”

  “I remember it well from when I was a lad,” Dougall growled.

  “Aye. Ye always seemed to be receiving the lion’s share of it.” Fingall laughed as he twirled a strand of Gillian’s hair around his finger. “Why do ye nae sit and visit with us fer a while. Ye may find that Greer is more to yer liking than that blonde serving girl ye brought home with ye.”

  Dougall didn’t bother answering his brother. Instead he strode to the doors and out into the courtyard in search of Paddraig MacRae. He only hoped he could contain his temper. At this moment he wanted nothing more than to pummel him, no matter that he was his father.

  Time was of the essence. Paddraig was no where in sight, so Dougall did what he should have done from the beginning. He headed to the dungeon. He passed his sister Brenna on his way and only gave her a fleeting nod of his head.

  “Dougall!” She came hurrying after him.

  “Aye. I cannae speak with ye now. I must find Helene.” He continued on down the passageway that led to the dungeon.

  “Dougall, ye’ll nae find her. She’s gone.” Brenna was out of breath from running to keep up with him.

  He stopped, grabbing Brenna by the shoulders. “Gone? Where?”

  “She was in the dungeon and Da had no intention of letting her out, even upon yer return. I helped her escape. Da doesnae ken it yet. He hoped she’d simply wither away and die down there.”

  The rage Dougall felt at this news was like nothing he’d experienced in his life. “When did she leave?” His grip tightened on his sister and she yelped in pain, causing him to release her.

  “I sent her on her way about a sennight ago. I gave her food and water, but unfortunately she had to leave on foot. Da confiscated her horse and I was unable to get it fer her.” Brenna appeared sincere and even worried for Helene. “I ken ye left me in charge of her and I promised no harm would come to her. I’ve disappointed ye and I’m sorry.”

  Dougall leaned his back against the cold stones of the passageway. This was the last thing he expected to find on his return. Brenna had done her best. There was no need to be angry with her. ‘Twas his father that would pay for this. “Thank ye, sister. Did she know how to get back to Breaghacraig?” He knew better than that. Of course she didn’t. She never ventured far from the castle.

  “She didnae say.” Brenna bit her lower lip. She reached a comforting hand towards her brother, but he shook it off.

  “I must go. I have to find her before ‘tis too late.” The thought of Helene alone and lost was killing him—and the worst of it was that it was all his fault.

  “Nae, Dougall. She kens the way of it. She understands ye must marry Greer. It’s best if ye do as Da has arranged and marry the lass,” Brenna pleaded.

  “I’ll nae marry her, Brenna,” he shouted. “I love Helene and I intend to leave here to find her.”

  “Love is a fleeting thing, Dougall. Ye’ll ferget about her soon enough. Ye’ll see.” His Aunt Saundra joined them and lent her voice to the conversation.

  “I dinnae wish to ferget,” he said through gritted teeth. “I wish to marry her. If I see me father before I leave, I willnae be responsible fer me actions. Logan is waiting fer me. I willnae be back.” He kissed his sister’s cheek and his aunt’s. “Thank ye fer helping Helene. I should never have left her here. I only hope she can fergive me fer doing so.”

  “Come, Logan. We must leave.” With narrowed eyes and a pinched expression, Dougall pushed Logan out of the way to get to Broch.

  “Where’s Helene?” Logan quickly glanced around and then back to Dougall.

  “She’s gone. Me father locked her up in the dungeon after we left. He intended fer her to die there.” His voice nearly broke, but he managed to stop the flood of emotions overtaking him. This was no time for weakness.

  “She escaped?” Logan seemed incredulous.

  “Aye, with help from Brenna. We must hurry. She left here on foot. She may be back at Breaghacraig by now, but if not we may encounter her on the road.”

  “Dougall!” His father’s voice boomed at him from across the courtyard. “Yer back. Have ye seen yer lovely bride?” Paddraig jogged over to them with a satisfied smile upon his face.

  “Yer a despicable old man. I cannae believe what ye did to Helene.” Dougall’s fisted hands were shaking with the need to do great bodily harm to his father.

  “Is she dead?” he asked.

  “Ye’ll be disappointed to find that she isnae. She’s nae here. I’m going to find her and take her back home to Breaghacraig.”

  “I can send Logan to do that. Ye shall stay fer yer own wedding.” Paddraig turned in a dismissive manner and began to walk away.

  “I’ve told ye, I’ll nae marry Greer. That was yer plan, but nae mine. I intend to marry Helene.”

  “Think on it, Dougall. I ken being laird is important to ye. Marrying Greer will seal yer pla
ce in the clan. Go. Find yer wench, bring her back here if ye must, but ye’ll marry Greer.” Paddraig’s unwavering stare seemed to be saying there was no relenting when it came to this topic.

  “If yer so in love with the idea of Greer Matheson, marry her yerself then.” He quickly mounted his horse and as they spun away, Dougall saw his father’s face as he obviously contemplated Dougall’s suggestion. “Dinnae expect me back, fer the only reason I’d be returning would be to kill ye.” He laughed bitterly as he rode away. His Da and Greer deserved each other. There’s would be a match made in hell.

  Riding through the night, Dougall hoped they’d make up for lost time and come upon Helene somewhere on the road back to Breaghacraig. He didn’t know whether or not he’d find her. Helene had never ventured far from home, so he had no idea whether she’d be able to find her way back. The thought of her alone and frightened in these woods tore at him. It was cold and a soft drizzle had begun to fall. He hoped she’d found some shelter. Would she be able to start a fire to keep herself warm? And what of highwaymen? She’d already been attacked once on their journey to Castle Treun. He only hoped she didn’t have the misfortune to run across any unsavory creatures, human or otherwise. He scrubbed his hands through his hair as he consciously forced his limbs to relax his rigid posture.

  “Dougall, we’ll find her.” Logan assured him.

  “I hope so, but I’m nae so sure.” He wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take, but then he thought of Helene and realized his discomfort was nothing compared to what she must be feeling.

  “We’ll head all the way to Breaghacraig and if she isnae there, I’ll come with ye and we’ll search until she’s found.” Dougall appreciated what Logan was trying to do. He recognized the concern in his eyes and the encouragement he tried to put into his voice.

  “Thank ye, Logan. Yer a good friend.” He meant it. Logan was proving to him that he could be trusted, that he would be there for him no matter what may come of their search.

  “Ye’d do the same fer me.”

  “Aye. I would,” Dougall agreed.

  “Our horses are tiring. Mayhap we should stop fer the night.” Logan glanced around the area.

  “She’s out there somewhere, Logan. Cold and alone in the dark. She’ll be frightened.” He hoped she had a warm blanket to cover herself with.

  “There’s naught ye can do, Dougall. If she’s been gone a sennight, she verra possibly could have reached Breaghacraig.” Logan was obviously doing his best to comfort him.

  “’Tis me hope.”

  They stopped in a small clearing and made camp for the night. Dougall didn’t believe he’d be sleeping much, but the horses certainly needed to rest, or they’d never make it back to Breaghacraig. He said a silent prayer that Helene would be safe and he cursed himself for leaving her alone with his father and allowing her to be put in this danger.

  Logan brought out some food, but Dougall had no desire to eat. He leaned back against a large tree, closing his eyes, folding his arms across his chest and hoping that sleep would come quickly and dreamlessly. It did neither.

  Dougall breathed a weary sigh as Breaghacraig came into view.

  Logan who was riding at his side urged his horse into a gallop. Dougall gratefully followed. He’d know soon whether or not Helene had made it back home. He wanted more than anything to believe she had and that he’d see her smiling face as he rode into the courtyard.

  Dougall and Logan slowed their horses to a trot before riding through the gates. He searched every face and his disappointment was evident when he didn’t see Helene anywhere. Hopping from his horse, he handed it and Helene’s mare to one of the boys. Logan did the same and both men strode into the castle.

  Irene was first to greet them. “Dougall, we’re so happy to have ye back.” Irene tipped her head and scrunched her brow. “Ye dinnae appear to feel the same.”

  “Where is Helene? Is she here?” Dougall’s heart dropped.

  “Is she nae with ye?” Irene’s hands flew to her mouth, as she obviously realized something was very wrong.

  Dougall hung his head in what was part exhaustion, part disappointment and part shame. “I must find her. She left Castle Treun more than a sennight ago.”

  “Why would she leave without ye?” Irene fidgeted nervously with the cloth she carried in her hands as she awaited his answer. It was obvious to Dougall that Irene loved Helene and he was so very sorry to have to tell her what had happened. “’Tis a long tale, Irene and one which I’m nae proud to tell. Me father planned to have me wed Greer Matheson.”

  Irene appeared shocked at this news. “Surely ye told him ye wished to marry Helene. Did he nae approve?”

  “He didnae. He told me that if I didnae go off on patrol with the men, he’d lock Helene up.” Dougall shook his head. This was the part that tore him apart. “If I’d simply turned around and headed back home with Helene, none of this would have happened. I should have stood up to him, but I didnae. I went on patrol and when I came back, I found that Helene had been mistreated and escaped on her own.”

  The shock on Irene’s face was easy to read. She was a kind woman and would never treat another human being poorly for any reason. Neither would anyone else here at Breaghacraig. It appeared that he came from a clan of despicable bastards.

  “Dinnae blame yerself. He’s yer Da, Dougall, of course ye’d do as he wished. Did Helene travel on foot?”

  “Aye. They locked up her horse.” Dougall hung his head. He couldn’t bare to look at Irene, sure he’d see the disappointment on her face that he himself felt.

  “I’ll gather the men and we’ll come up with a plan to find her. Dinnae fear. She’s fine. I’ve known Helene a good long time and she is a strong lass.”

  Dougall knew that too, but he feared that this had all been too much for her. “The woods are no place fer a woman alone, Irene. What if she met with some highwaymen or if she fell and was injured?”

  Irene put her finger to his lips. “Come. Sit for a while. Logan stay with him.”

  Irene left them alone in the great hall as she hurried off to find the men. Dougall continued to beat himself up over Helene’s disappearance.

  The sounds of women’s voices came to them from the passageway adjoining the great hall. He recognized Jenna and Ashley’s unusual speech pattern. They entered the hall without noticing him at first, but when they did they both ran to hug him.

  “So, how’s it feel to be married, Dougall?” Ashley asked.

  When he didn’t answer, Jenna asked, “What’s wrong?”

  Dougall didn’t have the will to tell one more soul of his failure, so he looked to Logan, who somehow understood what he needed.

  “There’s been a problem,” Logan began. He told the women everything from their arrival at Castle Treun to their departure and Dougall watched the horrified expressions on their faces and felt even worse than he had a moment before.

  “Oh, no! How are we going to find her?” Jenna asked.

  “Irene’s gone to get Robert and yer husbands. We’ll ride out together,” Logan answered.

  “I’ve got an idea,” Ashley said. “Edna!”

  “Edna!” Jenna shouted.

  Dougall wasn’t sure what they were speaking of and he must have looked quite confused.

  “Don’t worry, Dougall. We’ve got this.” Ashley hurried from the hall.

  “She’ll be right back,” Jenna assured him.

  Dougall exchanged confused glances with Logan. “I cannae wait a moment longer. I must leave. Every moment she is gone is a moment too long.”

  “Dougall, please sit. Ashley has something that will help. I promise.”

  Dougall reluctantly sat down, although he was unable to contain his nervous energy. Despite the lack of human compassion at Castle Treun, the exact opposite was to be found here. The warmth he felt for these women and this family almost overwhelmed him. Jenna stood behind him, rubbing his back. This small gesture of comfort was so much more than he des
erved.

  Finally Ashley arrived back in the hall. She was carrying something he had never seen before. “What’s this?” he asked.

  “This is going to help, Dougall. You’ll see.” Ashley appeared quite confident, as did Jenna who was tut-tutting around him like a mother hen.

  Ashley was carrying a glass ball with a small building inside. She must have lost her mind because she was now speaking to the ball.

  “Edna. Can you hear me? It’s Ashley.” Ashley exchanged what appeared to be a knowing glance with Jenna, who smiled back at her.

  Dougall remembered hearing about Edna. She was a witch who lived in the future. She was responsible for Ashley and Jenna being at Breaghacraig.

  “I’m here, Ashley. Is everything okay?” Edna’s face appeared through swirling snow in the glass ball and Dougall’s jaw dropped at the sight.

  “Not really, Edna. Our friend Helene has disappeared and we need to find her.”

  “Ah, yes. Helene.”

  “Have ye seen her?” Dougall spoke to the face in the globe. A sense of relief washed over him. Edna knew of Helene. She must be alive.

  “Aye. I have. I imagine ye to be the one who lost her.”

  What did she mean by that? “She left me father’s castle unescorted and I’m afeared for her safety.” Dougall couldn’t get the words out fast enough. He needed to know where Helene was. If this Edna knew then why wasn’t she telling him?

  “As I would imagine ye would be. Dougall, isn’t it?”

  “Aye.” This had to be one of the stranger moments he’d lived to see, but no matter as long as he would see his Helene again.

  “I know where she is,” Edna stated.

  “Well, are you going to tell us?” Ashley asked.

  “She is safely in San Francisco,” was her answer.

  “San Francisco? Is that nae where ye are from Ashley and Jenna?” Dougall turned to the two women for confirmation, but it came from the glass globe instead.

  “It is. She was quite heartbroken and asking fer help, so I sent her to me time,” Edna said.

  “I must speak with her. I must get her back,” Dougall was afraid he might never see her again. She was so very far away from him.