All The Time You Need

by Melissa Mayhue

  The castle grounds were rarely as deserted as they were right now. She’d been lucky to get into and out of one storage room without getting caught. She’d only managed to find a modicum of privacy this time by waiting until most people had gathered in the great hall for the evening meal. There was no way she could imagine searching all six rooms without someone catching her in the act. And if someone caught her in the act…

  She didn’t like to lie. It was a skill she’d never mastered. Instead, honesty had always been her natural defense. In spite of that, she doubted that she’d be doing herself a favor by telling the laird of the MacKillican she was searching for a way to do what he’d forbidden her to do.

  What she’d managed so far was pretty much nothing, and here she stood, wasting more time.

  “Time,” she muttered, fighting off a despair she couldn’t allow to engulf her.

  Time was at the root of all her problems.

  She needed to be more precise in her search. If only she could remember approximately where she’d gone through the wall in her time. If only everything didn’t look so very different here than it had when it was all rubble. If only she had paid more attention to her surroundings.

  But she hadn’t.

  So what now?

  If only she could see the outside of the wall. The opening would have to be so much easier to locate on that side.

  Of course, she’d have to be on the other side of the wall to get that view. And if she were already outside, she wouldn’t need to find the opening.

  A big sigh escaped Annie’s lips as she looked up toward the sky, where a huge bird circled overhead.

  That was what she needed to be—a bird circling above the wall. She needed—

  “What do you think yer doing back there?”

  She froze as the words frizzled a path down her spine like an arc of electricity. Of all the people she could imagine catching her out here, the one she would most like to avoid having to explain herself to was the very one who stood at the opening to the alleyway, blocking her exit.

  Alex, laird of the MacKillican, waited there, hands on his hips, wearing an expression that reminded her for all the world of a man out to catch prey. And suddenly, Annie felt very much like the local Prey of the Day.

  * * *

  Alex was in the habit of looking for Annie each evening in the great hall. Only to keep track of her, to make sure all was as it should be and for no other reason. He had thought it was strange when she was nowhere to be seen for their evening meal. It wasn’t disappointment he’d felt because she wasn’t there. Only concern about why she wasn’t there.

  At least, that was the story he’d told himself. And he’d almost convinced himself, too.

  When Finn had entered the great hall, wearing an expression even darker than usual, Alex had known something was afoot.

  “Dog found yer lady sneaking about by the back wall. Should I go after her to see what’s got her fancy out there?”

  Alex had risen from his seat and headed outside immediately.

  And now he’d found her, guiltily skulking in between the buildings, just as Finn had said.

  “What do you think yer doing back there?” he asked for a second time, studying the woman who stood by the wall.

  She waited, unmoving, like a doe caught in the open.

  “I thought I saw something in here,” she said at last. “I was out for a walk and I thought I saw something. I only came back here to investigate.”

  “And what did you find?” he asked, keeping his gaze focused on her eyes as he approached her.

  “Nothing.” She shrugged. “Maybe it was just the wind. Or my imagination. But there’s nothing here except someone’s regular toilet spot.”

  He’d reached her side, breaking eye contact long enough to search the ground at their feet. As she’d said, there was nothing. He scanned the side of the wall and the sky, as he’d seen her doing only moments ago. Nothing. Nothing at all for her to have been so intently engrossed in staring at.

  What had she been waiting for? Had she expected a message to drop from the sky?

  “Perhaps I’d best increase the guard on the wall-walk,” he murmured, realizing only as he heard the words that he’d spoken them aloud.

  “What’s a wall-walk?” she asked, her forehead wrinkled in confusion.

  Annie appeared to ask the question in all seriousness, though how a woman who’d spent her life in castles couldn’t know such a thing was beyond him. Accepting her sincerity required him to give her an answer.

  “It is the space upon the top of the castle wall where guards are set to watch for any approaching dangers. Guards, I might add, who are always on duty so that our enemies might never catch us unawares.”

  The last was intended to dissuade her from any plotting, just in case she conspired against him.

  “Of course,” she murmured, staring up toward the top of the wall. “Because the walls are so thick. Can we go up there?”

  “No.”

  His answer had been, admittedly, a hasty first reaction to her request. But for the life of him, he couldn’t imagine why any woman would want to climb the narrow steps to the wall-walk.

  He should have let it go at that. And yet the disappointment reflected on her face appeared very real. Very real and somehow quite disturbing.

  “What reason do you have for wanting to go up upon the wall-walk?” he asked.

  “To see something I’ve never seen before,” she answered, a smile trembling at the corners of her mouth, as if she were afraid to allow herself to be happy. “Could we? Please?”

  Though he had not one logical reason to say yes to her request, and many sound reasons to say no, he found himself making the decision to agree to what she wanted.

  Her smile of thanks felt more than reward enough for any risk he might be taking.

  “It’s no’ an easy traverse,” he warned, but his words had no effect on her obvious delight.

  He led her toward the back entrance to the wall-walk. Here, the only route to the top was by way of a precarious ladder, used for emergencies only. He could have taken her to the entry gate at the front of the castle grounds easily enough. There, solid stone steps made up the bulk of the climb. But he didn’t go that way.

  Instead, his irritation at his own unexplainable behavior focused on her, prodding him to choose the more difficult route. He’d just see how badly she wanted to make it to the top.

  He had absolutely no intention of offering any assistance on the climb, either. Ignoring the spear of his conscience, he waited silently as Annie eyed the ladder before them, her hands nervously worrying their way down the front of her gown.

  “So this is the way to get up,” she muttered, before her mouth settled into a grim, determined line and she placed her foot on the first rung.

  With a sweeping gesture of his arm, he invited her to begin her ascent.

  Annie buried her hand in her skirt and lifted, baring first a very shapely set of ankles, followed by more leg than Alex had seen for quite some time. He followed closely behind her, allowing himself the guilty pleasure of watching the decidedly feminine derriere swaying back and forth just ahead of him.

  At the top of the ladder, Annie crawled over the small ledge and remained on her knees even after Alex had climbed off the ladder to stand beside her.

  In spite of his resolution not to assist her in any way, Alex extended a hand to help her to her feet. The gesture wasn’t really changing his earlier decision, he reasoned. It was more a gesture of common courtesy that any man might offer to any woman.

  Though Alex couldn’t say for sure, it seemed to him as though her dampened fingers gripped his hand much more tightly than at any time in the past. He’d also swear that her face was several shades paler than it had been when they were standing on the ground below, though that perception could be a trick of light thanks to the encroaching night.

  Perhaps he’d been overly insensitive in his choice of a route to the top. He�
�d make up for it in their descent. After making their way to the guard posts, he’d show her around the wall-walk so that he could take her down by way of the stone steps at the front of the castle.

  But on his first movement forward, it became clear to him that his guest had other ideas.

  Annie slipped her hand from his and crossed to the other side of the wall-walk. Bracing her hands against the stones of the outer wall, she leaned forward to peer over the side. Almost as quickly, she drew back, breathing hard, before pushing forward once again to survey the land below.

  Dusk or no dusk, there was no mistaking the pale cast to her face now.

  “Are you feeling unwell?” he asked.

  She made no response, as if she hadn’t heard him at all.

  Her body swayed a bit, almost like a woman in a trance, and she rose onto her tiptoes, leaning even farther over the wall.

  In three strides he was at her side, his arms wrapped around her.

  And none too soon, from the looks of it.

  Her body trembled in his embrace while she pressed her perspiration-dampened face into his chest.

  “Are you unwell?” he asked again, tightening his arms around her. “What’s wrong with you? Answer me.”

  “I should have known better,” she mumbled, her fingers clutching the cloth on his arm.

  “Tell me what’s wrong,” he encouraged, pulling back from her to gently brush a loose strand of hair from her face.

  “It’s heights,” she said, shaking her head, her expression more embarrassed than ill. “I’ve always had a problem with them. But I wanted to see the other side so badly. I tried not to think about how it would affect me. Sometimes, if I don’t look down… But, of course, looking down was what I came up here to do.”

  Another hint that the woman in his arms could easily be a spy. Otherwise, why would she risk her own safety just to see over the wall? Even so, it made little sense. Anyone hiding in the woods had easy access to see the wall. His enemies wouldn’t need her to attempt to see it from up here. What information had she hoped to gain?

  “Why?” he asked. “What did you hope to accomplish in seeing the other side of the wall?”

  She hesitated for a long moment, and it surprised him to see tears pooling in her eyes when she finally spoke.

  “I wanted to see if I recognized anything.” She shook her head and a lone tear trickled down her cheek before she swiped it away. “I tried to think of some good story for you, Alex. I just don’t have one. I know you don’t believe that I come from another time, but I swear it’s true. This wall was little more than rubble in my time. I climbed over it when I explored the area. I just wanted to see if anything on the other side looked the same as in my time.”

  Her words sounded truthful. Her eyes reflected the sincerity he heard in her voice. But any good spy would be able to do the same. To believe her would require that he accept the truth of his grandfather’s stories. The truth of the Fae. And that would mean accepting as truth that the Fae had control of what was to happen in his own life.

  And that was something he simply wasn’t ready to accept.

  “Come on. Let’s get you down from here,” he said, forcing himself to step away from her. “Not that way,” he added as she cast a fearful glance in the direction of the ladder they’d used to get here.

  She nodded and stepped forward, her body still outwardly trembling.

  And who is to blame for that? his conscience goaded him like someone pulling a scab off a wound. He was, of course.

  Spy or Faerie, he’d already scared her silly. He’d be damned if he’d be responsible for allowing her to actually come to any harm as a result of his foolish decision to let her come up here.

  “By the saints,” he muttered, sweeping her off her feet and into his arms.

  “You don’t have to carry me.”

  “But I am,” he answered in his best laird’s voice, the one that brooked no argument.

  He carried her around the wall, past the guard stations, doing his best to ignore the curious looks he got from the men on duty.

  “Laird Alex,” one of them said, hurrying forward. “Do you need our help?”

  “Get back to yer post,” he growled, continuing on the door that would lead him down through the wall to the bailey below.

  He refused to give in to their curiosity. He was laird of the MacKillican. It wasn’t up to them to question what their laird did, no matter how strange it might look to them.

  And this, his carrying a woman the length of the wall-walk, must look strange indeed. Nevertheless, he continued on, pushing everything from his mind except the woman in his arms. To his surprise, concentrating only on her came much more easily than he would have expected.

  Only moonlight and the occasional torch lit their way by the time they reached the bailey. Slowly, he allowed her feet to touch the ground, but, for some odd reason, his arms seemed to have missed the instructions from his brain to release her. They stood in a shared silence, her pressed against him in his forgetful embrace, their eyes locked on one another.

  “I’m sorry,” she said at last. “That must have been pretty uncomfortable for you. Trying to think of some explanation to give your men, I mean.”

  “Not at all,” he lied. “A laird has no need to explain his actions.”

  A good thing, that rule he’d just made up. It came in handy an instant later when he dipped his head to brush his lips over hers before leaving her standing there, eyes closed, lips sensuously parted as if waiting for more.

  For the life of him, he couldn’t begin to explain why he’d done such an impetuous thing. All he could say was that he was more than glad that he had given in to the reckless impulse. He’d wear the tingle of her touch for the remainder of the night, accompanied now by the taste of her on his lips.

  Chapter 13

  “The Gordons have arrived.”

  Alex had known this moment was coming. He’d initiated it by his own order. But neither of those facts alleviated the sick knot in the pit of his stomach. Within the hour he would know for sure whether Annie was a spy sent by the Gordons.

  The very idea tightened the growing knot, making him briefly consider leaving the hall to empty his stomach before greeting his visitors.

  But that was not an acceptable recourse for the laird. Certainly not acceptable for the MacKillican laird. His father would never forgive such a weak and pathetic act on his behalf.

  Squaring his shoulders, Alex rose to his feet. The expression Jamesy wore after announcing their visitors warned clearly enough that his friend read his dilemma. With a deep breath, Alex firmly pulled his mental shield back in place, blocking all thought of the beautiful face that had floated in his mind only moments earlier.

  “Make sure everyone is on their guard. Everyone armed and at the ready.” One second to prepare himself, to blank every shred of emotion from his face. “Send them in,” he ordered.

  Jamesy disappeared through the large doors at the far end of the room, and a moment later, three men swept into the great hall. It didn’t take long for Alex to realize that the one in the center was clearly the man in charge. The other two held their step a respectful distance behind, indicating they weren’t viewed as equals. These men appeared to be attendants more than guards.

  Before Alex could speak, one of the men stepped forward.

  “Allow me to present to you Peter, son of Malcolm, second son of the House of Gordon.”

  Alex held his emotionless mask in place, refusing to give in to the temptation to roll his eyes. He’d met men of this ilk before. In his experience, these were men who’d had the opportunity to visit the royal court and, as a result, had been influenced into touting their own importance.

  Importance they may or may not actually have.

  Nevertheless, these were guests at Dunellen and, as such, deserved to be treated with respect, regardless of his initial impressions.

  “Welcome to Dunellen, Peter, second son of Malcolm, House of Gordon
.” Alex inclined his head as a show of greeting, barely refraining from grinding his teeth as his guest preened before him. “I take it you speak for your laird and that you understand the nature of our having requested your presence here?”

  “Only in the vaguest terms,” Peter said, lifting a hand dismissively. “I am given to understand that you hold as prisoner within these walls the woman I am pledged to wed?”

  And there it was, as painful as a fist to the gut, the statement Alex had feared he would hear from the moment he’d learned the Gordons had arrived. Annie was pledged to wed this peacock of a man. Pledged to a Gordon.

  “Analise Shaw is hardly a prisoner here. She is our kinswoman and a guest at Dunellen. As soon as she was found on our lands and we learned of her betrothal, word was sent out to your father in an attempt to get her safely to the place where she belongs.”

  “As one man of honor to another, I have no choice but to accept yer word upon this. But as a show of yer own good faith in this matter, I’d ask that my future bride be brought to me now so that I might assure myself she remains unharmed.”

  “Fair enough,” Alex answered, summoning Finn to his side. “Please fetch Mistress Shaw and accompany her to the hall to meet with her intended. And Lissa,” he added, almost as an afterthought. “Bring my sister as well, to attend Mistress Shaw at this meeting.”

  Finn’s eyebrow quirk was barely evident before he turned and strode from the room.

  “Please make yerself comfortable,” Alex said, forcing something he hoped resembled a smile to his lips. “The ladies should be joining us shortly.”

  Alex strode away from his guest, to the side of the room where Jamesy waited. At this particular moment, he felt a need of his friend’s presence, much in the same way he’d wanted Lissa here. He wasn’t entirely sure why he’d asked that his sister be brought to the hall. Whether it was to show her that the woman she’d defended had lied to her or to have her as emotional support for Annie, he didn’t know. All he knew for sure was that she needed to be here as much as anyone did.