All The Time You Need

by Melissa Mayhue

  “Anything I can get for you?” Jamesy asked, his voice devoid of his usual foolery.

  Alex shook his head, biting back any reply. What was he to say? That the time had come? That they’d know in a few more minutes what they’d tried to discern for the past weeks? There was no point to anything he might say now. All would be resolved shortly.

  For now, all that was left was to adhere to the intricate steps of the political dance that was about to begin between the clans.

  * * *

  Fools!

  Peter Gordon accepted the seat offered by the new MacKillican laird to wait for his bride to be brought to him. When he could no longer hold back his smile of satisfaction, he allowed it to settle on his face. And why not? A man come to claim his bride had every right to smile.

  The situation couldn’t be more perfect if he’d arranged it himself, which, to some degree, he had.

  When the rider had shown up at Gordon Hall, his father had dismissed the overture from the MacKillican representative out of hand, refusing to even meet with the man. Only Peter had seen the potential in the situation.

  Only he had thought to accommodate the man with food and drink. Only he had thought to have those things delivered by the fairest of their serving wenches. Peter had learned long ago that there was nothing like a full-bosomed serving maid and a bottomless cup of fine whisky to loosen the tongue of even the most loyal messenger. It was in this manner he’d learned that the Shaw woman was a complete mystery to her MacKillican hosts, a situation ripe for the picking by a forward-thinking, industrious man.

  A man exactly like him.

  He might be only a second son now, but what he planned to accomplish would leapfrog him ahead of his elder brother in his father’s estimation. After he claimed the Shaw woman as his bride, he’d demand a dowry. A dowry that neither the Shaws nor the MacKillican clan could ever afford, but one that would have to be paid in order to avoid insult and war with the mighty Gordon clan. To keep the peace, the MacKillican would be forced to cede a portion of their land to pay the debt. His father had long had an eye on the more fertile MacKillican lands, and had never missed an opportunity to let that fact be known. There was very little his father wouldn’t do to increase Gordon lands, especially if that increase could be accomplished at no cost in either silver or men. Once Peter was able to present to his father those coveted lands, obtained by such a clever diplomatic coup, he would, without question, ensure his place as the Gordon heir, ahead of his elder brother.

  He’d been very clever, leaving nothing to chance.

  Even now, while two of his men flanked him for protection, one of his party hastened back toward Gordon Hall to explain what he was doing to his father and bid the elder Gordon to join him here at Dunellen. A fourth carried word to the Shaw chieftain, offering him the protection and friendship of the mighty Gordons as payment for his agreeing to this plan as if it had been fact from the beginning.

  Everything was going exactly as he’d hoped from the moment he’d heard the MacKillican messenger’s story. The Shaw woman herself might offer up a bit of trouble, but her part to play in all of this was really only as a minor character. Her opinion mattered not at all. Daughters were frequently wed off for political or financial purposes. Certainly, neither her looks nor her intelligence mattered to him in the least. After all, her part lasted only long enough for the marriage to take place and the dowry to be collected. Once they were married, there were any number of ways an unwanted wife could meet her end. And quickly, too.

  Peter had waited for a moment like this the whole of his life. The heady taste of the power of his clan filled his mouth as if he already held it.

  “MacKillican,” he called out to his host, drawing the attention of the man to whom he spoke. “My journey here was long. A meal would be a welcome courtesy.”

  “How thoughtless of me,” the MacKillican replied with a gracious nod before lifting his hand to summon a serving girl. “Do see that our guests are brought food and ale to pass their time while they wait.”

  In very short order, a trencher was set before him, filled with chunks of meat. Cheese and bread followed, along with a tall tankard of ale.

  Now this was more along the lines of what he expected. This was the way to treat the future laird of the mighty Gordon clan. Perhaps this MacKillican lad was brighter than Peter had given him credit for being. Perhaps the young laird realized that this could be his opportunity to gain a powerful ally.

  A murmur behind Peter alerted him to turn just in time to see two women enter the room, accompanied by the man who had gone to retrieve the Shaw woman. Both were equally pleasing to the eye, though they were strikingly different. One short, with wild red curls, and the other tall, her nondescript brown hair tied back demurely from her serious face.

  He almost hoped the redhead would be the Shaw he’d come to claim. Taming one such as that might provide him with a few nights of enjoyment before she met her end, if that was to be her fate.

  The two women waited just inside the doorway, holding hands, as if daring him to claim one of them. So that was how they intended to play it. So be it. He learned the value of playing games long before either of these two had let go their mothers’ skirts.

  He rose to his feet and wiped his mouth on the back of his forearm before extending a hand, a gesture the right woman could hardly ignore.

  “Analise!” he called, honeying his tongue. “Come, my love, let me see for myself how you fare after yer harrowing adventure.”

  Chapter 14

  “Peter’s here?” Annie could hardly believe the words she’d just heard come out of her friend’s mouth. “Peter Gordon. You’re sure?”

  Lissa nodded, her eyes rounded in concern. “Aye. Finn had come to escort you down to the hall, where yer Peter awaits his bride-to-be.”

  Annie couldn’t imagine how this could be possible. First off, the Peter she was engaged to wouldn’t even be born for more than seven hundred years. And secondly, even if he knew how to find her, she couldn’t imagine him actually taking the time to go do it. Not that he was a bad person. He was a nice guy. It was just that his idea of how to spend a really fun day was negotiating terms on a new tract of land for her father’s company to drill dry. No, the Peter Gordon she knew might hire someone to come after her, but he certainly wouldn’t do it himself. Whoever was waiting downstairs wasn’t her Peter.

  Annie shook her head. “There has to be some mistake. We all know that’s not possible.”

  “Possible or not, Alex has summoned us to join him in the great hall,” Lissa said, with a quick glance over her shoulder to where Finn stood, as if she wanted confirmation of what she said.

  His solemn nod was apparently the confirmation she’d wanted.

  “But I already told you where Peter is. When Peter is,” Annie corrected. “Coming after me—anywhere, anywhen—that’s just not Peter’s style.”

  Coming after her would interfere with business. And, as she had learned early in life, nothing was ever allowed to interfere with business in the world inhabited by Peter and her father.

  “Be that as it may,” Finn said, shrugging as he opened the door, “there is a man in the great hall who claims he is Peter, son of Malcolm, of the House of Gordon. And, at this very moment, he is waiting to collect his bride. Now, if you’ll kindly accompany me down, you can see for yerself.”

  The beginnings of a new terror plucked at Annie’s chest.

  “George is Peter’s father. Not Malcolm. I don’t know who the man downstairs is, but it sure as heck isn’t the Peter I’m engaged to marry. You guys aren’t going to let some stranger waltz in here and carry me off, are you? Just because he claims to be the man I’m supposed to marry?”

  This couldn’t happen. She couldn’t allow this to happen. If she were taken from here, farther away from the arbor than she already was, there was no telling how she’d ever manage to get home to her own time again.

  “Try not to fret yerself over this, my frie
nd,” Lissa said, crossing to her side and catching up her hand. “We’ll go down there together and face whatever is to come. Together. Have faith in my brother, Annie. He won’t allow anything bad to happen to you. He’s too responsible to allow it.”

  “You believe that?”

  Because Annie herself wasn’t so sure. She’d thought there’d been a moment between the two of them the night Alex had taken her up on the wall-walk. When he’d kissed her, her whole body had felt alive in a way she’d never felt before. She’d been so sure that he must have felt something, too, but obviously she’d been wrong. He hadn’t even spoken to her for the two whole days since that had happened.

  “I believe it with all my heart,” Lissa replied, tugging her out the door and down the hallway to the stairs.

  “Okay,” Annie said, stopping just outside the door to the great hall. “But promise me this: don’t do anything that would let this man know which of us is which. If I don’t know who he is, he certainly can’t know who I am. And if he doesn’t know which of us is which, then that proves that I’m telling the truth. Agreed?”

  She looked from Lissa to Finn and back again, hoping they’d see the reason in her request.

  “Agreed,” Lissa said, squeezing her hand as they entered the big room.

  There was little doubt as to which of the men in the room was supposed to be Peter. Every eye was cast in his direction as she entered.

  He turned toward her and rose to his feet, dropping the food he had only moments before been shoveling into his mouth.

  No, he was definitely not the Peter Gordon she knew. Her Peter was tall, blond and quite handsome in a clean, slicked-back, Wall Street kind of way.

  This man might be considered handsome if he weren’t such an obvious dirtball. From his unshaven face to his stringy, filthy hair, right down to the grease he wiped from his face before speaking, this particular Peter was about as far from being the Peter in her time as was humanly possible.

  “Analise!” he called, as if he knew her well enough to use her given name, before sticking out a grubby hand that Annie was certain hadn’t seen soap and water in months. “Come, my love, let me see for myself how you fare after yer harrowing adventure.”

  The very idea of touching the man turned Annie’s stomach. She squeezed Lissa’s hand, her heart pounding as she prayed her friend remembered their agreement.

  Lissa didn’t let her down.

  “Peter,” she said, her tone a perfect mixture of statement and question.

  What an actress. That particular skill was one that Annie intended to remember, just in case she ever needed to use it herself.

  “Have they treated you well, my sweet?” Peter asked, holding his arms out as he headed straight for Lissa.

  If that didn’t prove to everyone in the room what an impostor he really was, she couldn’t imagine what would.

  Alex strode from the front of the room, Jamesy at his side, to lay a hand on Lissa’s shoulder.

  “Ladies, this is Peter, second son of Malcolm, House of Gordon.” He turned toward Peter as the man all but skidded to a stop. “May I present to you my sister, Alissaundre, only daughter of Alexander, House of MacKillican.”

  “It is my pleasure,” Peter said, his momentary confusion disappearing as quickly as it had appeared on his face.

  “This,” Alex said as he held out a hand in Annie’s direction. “This is Analise Shaw. I must admit, I’m somewhat surprised that you didn’t seem to recognize yer intended. Has it been so long since you’ve seen her?”

  Relief flooded Annie’s chest with the knowledge that the little scene that had just played out hadn’t been lost on Alex. Maybe she still had a chance to get out of this, after all.

  Peter chuckled, a humor that didn’t reach his eyes. “Not so surprising, really. Our marriage was arranged by our fathers. Though I’ve known of her, and thought of her as my future bride for many years, this is the first time we’ve had the opportunity to meet face to face.”

  The hope that had bloomed only moments before fled from Annie. She hadn’t suspected he’d go that route. But, of course, it made the most sense. Any getting out of this was going to fall squarely on her shoulders.

  “I don’t know who you are,” she said, taking a step back from the two men as she raised her hand in front of her. “But you are not the man who gave me this ring. You are not the Peter Gordon I am engaged to marry.”

  “Nonsense,” Peter said dismissively, turning his back on her to face Alex. “The wedding will go on as planned. My father, laird of the Western Gordons, is on his way here even now to negotiate the dowry that will seal the agreement and the peace between our clans.”

  “Negotiate the dowry?” Alex echoed, his head tilting to one side like a bird investigating a handful of seed. “Is Analise’s father on his way as well?”

  Peter shrugged. “As to that, I canna say. Though I suspect he will come.”

  “If he doesn’t, who exactly do you expect this negotiating to be done by?”

  “You, of course,” Peter said, and a brilliant smile lifted his lips. “The Shaws are yer relations and everyone knows they’ve neither the silver nor the land to buy the peace between our clans. They’ve offered up a daughter. Now it falls to you, as laird of the MacKillican, to add yer own offering toward the cause of peace. The responsibility to provide a dowry suitable to seal the marriage, and to avoid a war between our peoples, will fall to you.”

  Chapter 15

  “You saw it for yourself, Lissa. Clear as day. That man had no idea who I was. He thought you were Analise Shaw.”

  Annie paced the length of the old laird’s bedchamber as she spoke, for once not worrying whether the old man would awaken. Far worse threats darkened her thoughts at the moment.

  “You have the right of it. But, in all fairness, how was he to know which of us it was? He said yer father and his had negotiated the joining of the families through his marriage to you. It did seem as though he was doing his best to make you feel as though yer marriage was something he welcomed and not just an arranged peace between the clans.”

  No, the degenerate downstairs was doing his best to make it seem as though he actually knew the woman he’d come to kidnap.

  Annie stopped her pacing and scrubbed her hands over her face. Maybe she wasn’t being fair to this Peter, but she didn’t care. It was bad enough to have a wedding to face back in her own time. This, this business arrangement between people who didn’t even know each other, was beyond unacceptable.

  “I won’t go through with this, Lissa. I’ve tried to fit in here, I really have. But this is too much to ask of anyone. Did you even get a look at how disgusting that man is?”

  “I did,” her friend said, sympathy shining in her eyes. “I’m no’ sure if you noticed, but he carried an odor with him, too.”

  “I noticed.”

  How could she not when it smelled as if the horse stables were approaching when the man drew near?

  “What are you thinking to do, then, if yer going to refuse to wed the man? You know that if there’s been an agreement between the fathers, yer refusal is no’ likely to stop anything.”

  “Well, first of all, there can’t be an agreement. My father is seven hundred years from here. I can bet my life on the fact that he and Peter’s father never agreed on anything.”

  Lissa’s shrug and refusal to meet Annie’s gaze could mean only one thing. Even her best friend here, the only one who’d ever believed the truth of Annie’s situation, was beginning to doubt her.

  There seemed to be only one way out of this, as far as Annie could see.

  “I have to get out of here. I have to find my way back to my time where I belong.”

  Lissa’s gaze met hers this time. “How? I dinna think you knew the way to return.”

  “I don’t,” Annie admitted. “But I feel certain the key to what happened—and what I need to do to get back—is still there in the arbor. I’m going back there to search for it.”

&n
bsp; “Surely you realize Alex is even less likely to allow that now than he was before. We’ve Gordons within the gates and them claiming that a marriage to you is the only thing that stands between peace and war between the clans.” She shook her head, her curls bouncing around her face. “There’s no’ an argument I can imagine that will get you his permission to go back to the arbor now.”

  Her friend might be losing faith in her, but it wasn’t all gone yet. If there was anyone she could confide in, it was Lissa.

  “I don’t need his permission. In my time, when I passed through the ruins of Dunellen on my way to find the arbor, there was an area that resembled what might have been a passageway at one time. I’m hoping that the time in which that passageway exists is now.”

  “Where is this passageway of which you speak?”

  That was, after all, the million-dollar question.

  “Along the back wall. My best guess, based on what I saw in my time, is that the entrance is in one of the storage rooms that back up against the wall. A few nights back, Alex took me up onto the wall and I managed to get a look on the other side before—”

  Annie stopped, remembering the awful dizziness that had engulfed her as she leaned over the side to look down. She also remembered the feel of Alex’s strong arms as he’d pulled her back, and the warm, hard chest he’d held her against as she’d recovered from the experience. That particular memory lit a fire within her, heating her body as it had heated that night in his arms.

  “Before what?” Lissa asked.

  “I have a problem with heights,” Annie answered at last. “Vertigo, it’s called. I get dizzy and sick to my stomach. The worst part is, when I’m up high like that and I look down, I’m overcome with what feels like an overwhelming desire to step off into that nothingness. So when I looked over the edge, I sort of lost myself and Alex had to pull me back.”