Meehall_A Time Travel Romance

by Jane Stain

  "Aye," Ellie gushed, "We would."

  Sarah finally let go of their hands, confident they wouldn't run off into the unknown without the appropriate caution. "It just sae happens we can, but we must stay together, ye ken?"

  Both women gave Sarah quizzical looks, but they followed her to the door —and gasped when she opened it. The closed door and their proximity to the window had kept the sounds and scents of the downstairs tavern away, but now the aroma of freshly baked bannocks and lamb stew wafted up.

  "Let us gae doon and hae some," said Nadia, practically dancing to the door.

  Sarah rushed ahead of her friends and made it to the stairs first, looking back over her shoulder at them with as stern a look as she could manage, considering her own excitement. "Aye, let us. But we stay together. And nay talk o’ home. These people will na understand, remember."

  Nadia nodded sagely, her body moving to the lilting music of a fiddle that had started to play a lively tune down there in the tavern.

  Ellie rolled her eyes and threw her hands up in the air, grinning at Nadia with mock amusement which was really impatience, knowing her. "Just humor her." She turned to Sarah. "Verra wull, we will na tell anyone here about home. Are ye happy?"

  But Sarah stared her friends down. "Ye will na give us away as time travelers, and ye will stay with me."

  Nadia chuckled, and like all the sounds she made, it was musical. "Aye, we will stay with ye."

  "Good, keep speaking Gaelic. No telling what would happen if we spoke tae these people in modern English."

  Her friends looked surprised at the realization they had been speaking Gaelic, but they eagerly agreed.

  Finally satisfied, Sarah turned around and led them down into the tavern.

  Their gasps of surprise satisfied her immensely.

  Surveying the bustling room, Ellie whispered, "I canna believe it. We really hae gone back in time. I thought ye were having us on, had drugged us and dragged us tae auld Inverness or some aught. But nay. There is na other explanation. Look how much smoke is in the room, from the fireplace and all the lamps. And the lasses are all sae demure, even that one ower there, the slattern. All that talk o’ lasses's liberation in school just seemed ridiculous till now, when I see the reality o’ just how bad 'twas. Every last one o’ these lasses is looking tae a man for protection—"

  Sarah turned and shushed her friend just as they got to the bottom of the staircase, then looked up to make sure Nadia wasn't going to blurt out any of the same thoughts.

  But Nadia was pale and compliant —for the first time Sarah could remember.

  Assured that no one had heard them over the hubbub in the tavern, Sarah cupped her hand under the small period purse attached to her belt to keep the period coins Kelsey had given her from jingling.

  Out of habit, they sat at a corner table.

  Meeting Nadia’s eyes to acknowledge her wisdom, Sarah discreetly put the purse inside her leather satchel under the table. then carefully took out just a few coins, which she stowed in her bosom. Once they entered the tavern, the little period purse dangling from her belt had looked like a ridiculously easy thing to steal. They didn't call thieves cutpurses for nothing.

  A serving wench came over. "One copper each for the meal. Half if ye just want ale." How old must she be? Her face looked like she was 40, but there wasn't any gray in her hair.

  Nadia and Ellie both blanched, but they looked impressed when Sarah dug three coppers out of her bosom and handed them over with a smile.

  The three of them sat waiting for their food in silence, but their eyes and faces said to each other, "How amazing is this! We’ve gone back in time!" "I know! Just look at all these people, the clothes they’re wearing and the way they talk."

  The tavern talk was interesting.

  "We canna let the English win, and our admitting their alien act has cost us money we canna dae withoot would be England winning."

  "What is Scotland tae live on, then?"

  "I dinna ken."

  "If ye ask me, ’tis all the fault o’ those lowlanders and their accursed Darien Scheme."

  The food came, and it tasted just as good as it smelled, fresh ingredients and home cooking would do that. But before they were even finished eating, they were all anxiously looking out the door whenever someone came or went.

  The sun hung in the sky at about 3 o’clock on a brisk March day.

  Stretching her arms toward the ceiling so that the huge sleeves of her MacBeth costume fell down around her long brown hair, Nadia said what they were all thinking. "If we are gaun'ae explore the toon, we must needs gae now. There is but a few hours o’ daylight left."

  "Aye," Ellie said, jumping up.

  Smiling with anticipation, Sarah jumped up as well. "Nadia, lead the way."

  With a dramatic dancer’s swirl of her long skirts, Nadia got up.

  Sarah saw that several of the tavern’s patron’s looked over at her friend, but they turned back with disappointment when Nadia didn’t do any more of a dance to the fiddle, instead making a beeline for the door.

  Sarah and Ellie hurried to join their friend, and then Nadia led them across the street and into the hatmaker’s shop.

  Sarah beamed. "’Tis a good notion ye hae. Everyone here wears fancy hats. Did ye notice?"

  "Aye," said Ellie, absentmindedly wrapping one of her red curls around her finger while she looked at all the hats on the counters, and all the strange tools and bits of felt and leather on the shelves.

  "Ah, first time in the city?" asked the elderly male hatmaker with a greedy gleam in his eye.

  With a sinking feeling, Sarah approached him. "Aye, and we dinna hae much money. We wish tae bide in toon a bit and enjoy the sights, and we dinna hae time tae hae dresses made for us. Dae ye think we can afford used clothes that make us fit in here better with ye toon folk, some aught a connected person such as yourself might gather from his acquaintances? It need na be special, just more citified than oor farm attire." She opened her hand to reveal a silver coin.

  The hatter put a spectacle in and looked at the coin intently before answering her. "Where did three Highland lasses come intae such a fortune?"

  Wait, one silver coin was a fortune?

  Tall slender Nadia paused in her graceful sashay around the shop to raise her eyebrows at Sarah in an ‘I told you so’ look.

  Sarah closed her hand and stepped back from the hatter. "Never ye mind. We wull be spending it elsewhere. Nadia, Ellie, we’re leaving. We dinna need tae abide rudeness."

  But the hatmaker held up his hands in supplication. "I pray ye forgive me, lass. I didna mean any disrespect. I greatly admire a Highland lass who comes intae a fortune, and o’ course I would be verra pleased if ye would share it with me in exchange for using my connections tae acquire ready tae wear clothing suitable for the city."

  Trying not to gloat, Sarah looked at her friends as if to consult with them on whether or not they should accept the man's apology.

  Fully understanding what she was doing because she often held pretenses such as this in order to get them favors, they humored her and drew this out as long as possible, so that the shopkeeper could sweat a few moments. After about half a minute, they all nodded at each other.

  Sarah turned back to the shopkeeper. "How long will it take ye, tae gather what is needed tae outfit all three o’ us as befits lasses o’ Inverness?"

  Smiling to himself, the man took out a tape and went about measuring them from a distance, a process the three of them found very amusing. He wrote down the measurements on a chalkboard that sat on the counter with the tools and materials of his hat-making trade. "I wull close the shop and go about toon in the next hour. Should only take me that long tae gather everything. Please tell me that is satisfactory."

  "’Tis," Sarah told him, moving toward the door and nodding her head for Nadia and Ellie to follow. "But we dinna wish tae sit here that long. As I said, we wish tae see the toon. We will return here afore we retire for the night." />
  The hatter reached out his hand toward Sarah's fist, where she held the silver coin.

  But she made a tighter fist. "Nay. Ye shall na hae yer payment till we hae oor new toon clothing and hae satisfied ourselves it fits and is appropriate." She looked at the greedy gleam in his eye. "And ye shall give me change o’ half a silver coin."

  The gleam in his eye only reduced a small amount.

  Darn, she should have asked for more change. Oh well. She had quite a bit of money in her bag, if this was any indication. Had Kelsey known?

  They walked down the street, looking through the un-shuttered windows at the contents of all the shops. It was difficult not to exclaim about everything they saw —all handmade out of natural materials.

  Nadia whispered to the two of them, "We should buy some o’ this stuff, bring it home, and sell it. We could make a fortune."

  "Ooh!" Ellie exclaimed in what was dangerously close to no longer being a whisper.

  Sarah elbowed Ellie in the side but kept them walking and looking in the windows, whispering, "A good idea it may be, but look about at how the people here behave. Ye canna get sae excited, na about that nor anything. And I dinna think we should deal in antiques till we get a feel for the place. Dinna look now, but a man has been following us ever syne we left the inn."

  Annoyingly, both of her friends looked around very obviously.

  Fuming, Sarah grabbed their hands and dragged them into the nearest shop, which turned out to belong to a printer. It smelled like turpentine.

  The printer smiled at them in greeting. "What can I help ye lasses with this day?"

  Sarah lowered her voice so as not to be heard from outside. "There’s a man following us. We just ducked in here for refuge."

  The shopkeeper's lips formed a line on his face, and his eyes grew resolved. "Ye can leave oot the back door. I wull detain him."

  "That's verra kind o’ ye. We wull."

  They rushed out the back door, down the alley, and into the shop across the street.

  "What wondrous clothing ye make!" Sarah told the female shopkeeper as she gazed all around at the dresses in various stages of completion. "If I were tae get fitted right now, how long would it take for ye tae make me a dress?"

  The shopkeeper made her way over to Sarah and started taking measurements. "If ye be truly rushit, I can hae some aught ready for ye by the end o’ business tomorrow. But it will cost, ye ken."

  Sarah beamed and showed the shopkeeper the silver coin, looking at all the bolts of fabric on the walls and letting her imagination run wild. "'Tis a deal ye hae. I simply love yer work."

  "Which fabric dae ye like?"

  "I love that gray there."

  The shopkeeper got it down and draped it over Sarah in various ways, pinning as she did so. After a long while, she indicated a raised area in the middle of the room. "Step up here."

  Sarah did.

  The dressmaker reviled them with talk as she pinned Sarah’s hem. "'Tis glad I am, tae hae yer custom. Business has been sae bad syne the English passed their Alien Act. I dinna ken if ye heard about it out in the land, but here in toon 'tis all the talk. Those who own land in England are afraid their heirs will na inherit, and not a one wants tae go tae England tae try and sell their land. Put us in a bad way, it has…"

  Nadia cleared her throat and used her fingers to comb her long brown hair back to reveal the need in her gray eyes. "’Tis sorry I am tae raise a delicate subject, but we had quite a bit o’ ale with supper. Where is the nearest place that I might, ye ken, relieve myself?"

  Ellie jumped up from the stool she was seated on, making her red curls bounce. "I will go with ye."

  "Just oot my back door there," said the shopkeeper around the pins she had in her mouth.

  "Wait till I can go as wull," Sarah practically yelled.

  "Come on, Sarah," said Ellie. "I aim tae be as ladylike as I can, but ye canna expect me tae hold it for another half hour while ye get fitted for a dress ye dinna need. We will be just ootside there," she turned to the shopkeeper, "aye?"

  The woman nodded impatiently, grabbing onto Sarah's waist to steady her. "Stand still, or I canna guarantee the dress will fit."

  Sarah’s friends went out the back door.

  She tried to relax and enjoy having a dress custom made, but she worried too much. "I'm anxious for my friends," she told the shopkeeper as she stripped off the fabric, cursing every few seconds when a pin stuck her. "They’re younger than I, ye ken, and they hae never been tae the city afore. They dinna ken about all the dangers. Besides, a man was following us. That's why we rushed in here. I hae tae go check on them."

  After grabbing her leather backpack and putting it on one shoulder, Sarah jumped down and ran to the back door, pushing it open with her rump when it stubbornly stuck to the frame. The sun had set, and she had to squint to see in the moonlight after being under the bright lamps inside.

  At first she didn't notice the privy in the alleyway, it looked so much like a storage crate. But her anxiety grew even upon seeing it. Surely both her friends couldn't fit in there?

  A distant scream cut through the air but a moment before it was stifled.

  Sarah whipped her head to the left to look down the alley — where her friends were both gagged and in the arms of that man who had been following them.

  Sarah ran through the shop and out the front door, ignoring the shopkeeper's cry of "Dae ye still want the dress?"

  She ran all the way back to the inn, up the stairs, and into the room Meehall had rented, out of breath and scrambling in her backpack for the bracer to put on her arm and then finally sighing in relief when the world started whirling and she made her way back to Celtic University in modern times.

  4

  Helping out with the sword-fighting class had been a good idea. Some of the students were even a challenge, and Meehall encouraged them to give him a strong workout. His current sparring partner was especially tough, having 50 pounds more muscle than him. Meehall’s technique was better, honed by years of actual battle experience, but the man's strength was nothing to be dismissed. One solid hit would have Meehall on the floor. Dancing away from the hits allowed him to work out his anger in a productive manner.

  Meehall’s youngest brother, John (Eoin OAÑ in Gaelic), had shown up in 1704 two years ago, saying things hadn't worked out back in the time of Hadrian's Wall. They hadn’t seen each other for awhile, so it was good to catch up on all the happenings. There were ways he could call on his brother for help getting back to 1706, so Meehall wasn’t entirely out of luck.

  But the idea of being rescued by a younger brother grated. No, Meehall wasn't that desperate yet. He would give Sarah a day to come back before he lowered himself to asking his younger brother for help.

  The giant slammed down a particularly hard attack, forcing Meehall to run.

  Watching the sword rather than where he was going, he backed right into someone. "Sorry," he said, eyes still on the sword.

  "Are you okay?" Sarah asked, doubtlessly dazzled by the giant’s size.

  Good, she was back already. And she had his bracer.

  Meehall gave his opponent the signal that their bout was over and waited, eyes never leaving that sword.

  The burly man acknowledged the signal, sheathed his sword, and wiped his forehead with a towel. "Good bout, mate."

  Meehall shook hands with the man, then turned to Sarah, reluctant to let her know how relieved he was to see her. "Sarah! How about we show these students how it's done?" He grabbed a quarterstaff for her from the rack as he searched around for a likely pair of opponents.

  But she stayed his hand when he started to beckon. "I'm way out of practice—"

  Good. That’ll teach her a lesson about running off with my bracer, even if Kelsey and Stanley are really to blame. "Let's remedy that right away." He tossed her the staff.

  She caught it but then put it away. "I don’t have time to practice—"

  Really? That was her excuse? "I'm so g
lad you came back from your trip early. I really need to go on a trip of my own, and with us sharing a …vehicle—"

  Sarah’s eyes said she didn’t want to hear it. Too bad.

  Needing to get her alone so he could speak freely, he put a hand on her lower back without a second thought and escorted her out of the gymnasium into the cool night air, where he wiped the sweat off his face with one of his billowing Highlander sleeves.

  She went with him eagerly. Weird.

  Might as well make the best of it. "Thank you for coming back early, Sarah. I really appreciate it." His hand on her back began to feel forward, and he lowered it, but not before their eyes met and a familiar hunger arose in him. That wasn't meant to be, so he fought it down.

  But Sarah didn't turn away. "I'm going with you. My friends Nadia and Ellie went with me, and they have been kidnapped back in 1706." She ran toward Stanley's office.

  He caught up and ran alongside her. "Give back my bracer."

  "I will, once we’re back in 1706."

  "Okay," he sighed in annoyance.

  5

  "How thin are the walls here?" Sarah asked as soon as they were in Meehall’s room at the inn. She had his full attention now, and it was unnerving. Feeling his hand on the small of her back at the sword practice and again in Stanley's office had been bad enough, but his eyes boring into hers? She wanted to look away. Wanted to with all of her reason. But she needed him.

  "They wull dae," he told her thoughtfully. But he switched on the TV and turned the news announcer up a little. "Explain tae me what happened, sae I wull hae a better idea where tae look for the lasses."

  It was too close, being with him in a bedroom. Far too tempting to do things she knew she'd regret. He wasn’t dependable, best she remember that. She headed for the door. "I wull just show ye. ‘Twill be quicker and more accurate. Besides, ye might see something that gives ye a clue."

  "Sarah." He grabbed her hand before she could reach the doorknob.

  This was too much. She gave him her icy stare. "What?"