Not Without Juliet (A Scottish Time Travel Romance) (Muir Witch Project #2)

by L. L. Muir

  “Who are you?” she demanded.

  The old man looked her over, then stared into her eyes. His own glittered as if he were quickly reading over a document, and yet those cloudy orbs never moved. Quinn had to suppress the urge to push Juliet behind his back, for he knew she wouldn’t appreciate his protective instincts when her own instincts were demanding she protect Percy.

  “I’m laird here,” said the ancient one. “And any who come through the tunnel must be weighed and measured.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Juliet’s volume made it clear she’d misunderstood.

  Quinn would have laughed at her, but he didn’t care for the idea of the old man making any sort of judgment concerning his woman, let alone young Percy. He glanced behind him and was pleased to see that Monty was up off his arse and ready to fight. The lad was tucked in behind him and Jillian. Monty gave Quinn a slight nod. Ewan stood at the ready with the old Muir sisters behind him, as if they belonged to Clan Ross and not in the midst of these mind-reading strangers.

  When Quinn once again faced forward, the old man was watching him closely, his head tilted slightly to one side as if he were somehow weighing and measuring Quinn. Or maybe the heaviest rock in the old one’s head had shaken loose and rolled to one side.

  “Our land. Our rules, Quinn Ross,” he said.

  Quinn leaned forward. “Stand back, laird. We’ll be taking ours and going.”

  Although he never noticed the movement, the clansmen had shuffled around to form a tight circle, shoulder to shoulder, in front of them. There was nothing threatening in their eyes, just as there is nothing threatening about the pawns on a chessboard. But there was no doubt, they’d been moved into position.

  Quinn’s hand went to his sword, but the weapon would not release its sheath. One look at Monty and Ewan told him they suffered the same problem. The fact they’d tried to arm themselves didn’t seem to concern the crowd, or their leader. They only waited and watched, pleased with the entertainment.

  Margot moved around Ewan and came forward. She stepped in front of the old man and gave a little bow.

  “Father,” she said. “These young women are of Muir blood. Surely they can be allowed to go on their way.”

  “Our ways, Margot.” A gnarly finger raised and pointed at Juliet. “That one’s been in the tunnels. Even my auld nose can smell it on her, aye? And the lad as well.”

  Quinn resisted the urge to give Juliet a sniff. If they’d ever gotten around to that kiss, she might have tasted of metal. But he didn’t care if she had liquid silver running through her veins; she was his.

  “And mayhap it’s me yer smelling, father. I was there, on the far end of the tunnel. I ken this lass was forced inside. Surely, she shouldna be punished for it?”

  The old man smiled and nodded. “As you say, daughter.” He looked at Juliet. “Come forward, Juliet. And bring yer sister.”

  Quinn tried to reach for Juliet’s arm as she stepped forward, but his hand never rose. Jilly moved forward to stand next to her. Monty strained behind his wife, but couldn’t stop her either. A fizzy chill ran up Quinn’s spine and poured fresh metal into his mouth.

  “Haud yer wheesht,” he heard whispered into his mind.

  “Granddaughters to be sure,” the old man greeted, taking one of each lass’s hands. “I’ll allow ye to go, and take yer mighty warriors with ye, but ken that ye’ll always find a home here, and shelter, and protection. As will yer sons,” he told Jilly. “No matter the century, aye?”

  He gave Juliet some sort of blessing, then turned and did the same to Jillian, pulling each low so he could end his benediction with a kiss on the forehead. When he was finished, he dropped their hands and took a step to the side, then craned his neck to see Percy.

  Monty stood at frustrated attention when the boy stumbled around him as if being pulled by some invisible rope. Quinn, on the other hand, was able to move just fine and so he did. He rushed forward and planted his body between Percy and the old laird.

  The latter tipped his head back on a wrinkled neck and looked Quinn in the eye.

  “What foe cannot be bested as a child?” he said, echoing Mhairi’s words from earlier that day. Only now, that foe was no longer a concept, but a physical child! Quinn was horrified that the Muirs, a clan that had just proven how easily they could control an enemy, would conceive of such a curse—a curse that would end with the slaughter of children! It made no difference that those children might have been full-grown sword-wielding soldiers a half an hour before!

  They were mad! All of them. Perhaps Margot and Mhairi were the sanest of the lot!

  Mhairi!

  Quinn looked in Ewan’s direction and found the old woman meeting his eye.

  Please, Mhairi. Help us!

  Mhairi, bless her, nodded.

  A heartbeat later, he held both Juliet’s hand and Percy’s, and they were pushing quickly through an unresisting crowd. There was no time to wonder whether or not Mhairi was responsible.

  They burst down the street with Monty, Jillian, and Ewan on their heels. The Muir sisters remained somewhere inside the mob. James waited at the bottom of the slope with horses ready.

  Thank you!

  He sent the thought to God, and to Mhairi and Margot, and hoped they all heard, somehow.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  It was dark when Ewan led his strangely disguised guests back into Castle Ross. He sent James on some errand and led the rest of them into the big hall, then went to work starting a small fire in the hearth. Thank heavens he’d sent everyone from the building until after the funeral—the funeral where, thank goodness, there would be no body in the coffin.

  Jules was just grateful they were all accounted for, including Percy. It was easy to admit she was in love with Quinn and wanted to spend the rest of her life with him—when he’d gone down on one knee, she’d been so thrilled she could hardly breathe. But she couldn’t live with herself, or anyone else, if she couldn’t find a way to end that little boy’s suffering. The funny thing was, she’d decided to help him however she could before he’d ever become that little boy.

  When he’d taken her from the workroom beneath the tomb entrance, when he’d said his brother’s name and sobbed, she’d been backed up against his chest. She’d felt that sob rack her own bones, but she’d also felt it in her soul. His heartbreak had become hers. And she knew she had to fix it somehow.

  All that business about the oubliette was just a bluff. He’d have never hurt her in the end. It was almost like she’d been able to read his mind—

  Okay. There was no way she was going to follow that thought to the end. No way. No matter what the old man had said, she wasn’t one of those freaks on the other end of the tunnel.

  As they all settled around the hall, she peeked at her sister and was kind of relieved that Jillian wasn’t looking her way, thinking the same thing. She turned away quickly though, just in case, and stared at Percy who was staring up at the sculpture of Montgomery. With ten years of memories wiped away, he wouldn’t remember anything about the statue or the tomb standing close by, or even the entrance to the tunnel.

  Once she and Percy had taken a dozen steps into the tunnel, he’d forgotten she was his hostage and let her go. He’d wanted to know why they were in a cave. She could have suggested they turn around and go back to the round door, but she’d had an indescribable impression that they should keep going, that whatever they’d begun had to be finished. After that, and about every twenty paces, he’d ask who she was and where they were. By the time she’d given him some kind of story, he’d start asking all over again. By halfway, she realized he’d been shrinking. It had scared the shit out of her, but she couldn’t let him know. He was so scared. So confused. So trusting.

  The last time he’d asked who she was, she’d seen the light ahead. She’d told him they were in a cave, that she’d been lost and he’d come along and saved her. Once in the sunlight, she’d asked him his name and where he was from. He knew he was
Percy Gordon and that he lived by the sea. He didn’t remember much else. No mother was waiting for him. He had brothers much older, but he didn’t like any of them.

  That was the moment Jules had recognized as her chance to end his heartache. If he didn’t remember loving William yet, then losing his brother wouldn’t break his heart. And if she took Percy with her...

  She suddenly realized why she’d been so set on saving the boy.

  Deep down, she’d felt like erasing his father’s betrayal would somehow make up for Gabby’s betrayal of Nikkos. But it wouldn’t. Nothing was bringing Nikkos back. And nothing could erase what had happened to William Gordon. All she could do was keep Percy from reliving the loss. She only wished she could have done the same for Nikkos.

  She thought of William’s body still waiting in Gordon’s dungeon and wondered if he knew she would be preventing Percy from ever loving him again. But if he knew that, he’d also know that Percy would be spared, wouldn’t he?

  “Sorry, William,” she muttered. “I hope you understand.”

  “What was that?” Quinn whispered in her ear.

  Jules was sitting on a bench with Quinn standing behind her like he thought that hundred-year-old man might run through the door any second and drag her away.

  “I said I’m not leaving without Percy,” she whispered back.

  “Well, of course we’re not leaving without him,” he said. “Who knows what those blood-thirsty Muirs might do if they ever got their hands on him?”

  She jumped to her feet and faced him, then grinned like an idiot, trying to show him how grateful she was.

  “Does this mean I can have that kiss now?” He pulled her close and barked his shin on the bench. “Why is there ever something between us, Juliet?”

  She climbed over the stupid bench and stepped up close. Just as Quinn’s mouth touched hers, Monty cleared his throat nearby. They ignored him and kissed like they’d been waiting all day for a chance to do it. Her lips were going to be bruised.

  Thank goodness!

  The second time Monty cleared his throat, he was a foot away.

  Quinn pulled back. “What is it, Uncle? I ken she looks a great deal like yours, but this one’s mine. Yours is over there.” Then he pulled her close again.

  This time, their lips didn’t even touch before she and Quinn were pushed apart. His hands slipped out of her reach.

  “I beg pardon, nephew,” Monty said cheerfully, “but as Juliet’s brother of the law, she is mine until such time as I hand her to ye, aye? And I doona see a priest about.”

  “In truth,” said Ewan as he squatted before the hearth poking at the flames of his fire, “James has gone to fetch Father McRae, just in case mind ye.”

  Jillian started laughing. “Poor man! He’s going to think he’s marrying us again, Montgomery.”

  Monty didn’t seem to hear because he and Quinn were locked in some kind of staring contest, like they were summing each other up. Was Monty daring Quinn to back out? Maybe run away before the priest showed up?

  Jules felt the smile slip off her face when the word marrying finally registered. She heard a whimper and realized it had come from her own throat.

  Quinn noticed her distress and pushed Monty out of the way to come to her. He hugged her to him, then ran his fingers along her hair.

  “Don’t listen to them, lass,” he crooned. “We’ll marry when you’re ready and not before. I’ve more family who will want to be in attendance, aye?”

  More family? The idea was shocking enough to get her mind off a rushed wedding.

  What a difference a week made. No family, no ties. Now plenty of family with more waiting in the wings? It seemed like a pretty picture, but with one, unwanted face looming on the back row.

  Gabby. The father figure. Smiling for the camera.

  It was one tie she needed to sever before she’d be ready to tether herself to this family of Scots.

  “We need to go, Quinn. I have to get back to New York in the next thirty-six hours, or I’ll have to hide for the rest of my life. None of you will be safe if Gabby comes looking for me. I have to make sure he gets put away.”

  The color drained from Quinn’s face.

  “You will be safe,” he demanded. It sounded a lot like the time Monty had shouted at Jillian that she would be fine, when she’d been crying beneath the tree.

  “Here we are!” James led in a priest wearing a floor length robe. The man looked a little nervous, like he thought Satan might rear his head out of the giant mass of curls on James’ head.

  “Face the wall, Father McRae, if ye please.” Monty’s voice boomed around the room.

  The priest did as he was asked, like he was invited to face the wall on a regular basis. Then he fainted dead away.

  Everyone looked at Monty because it had to have been his voice that scared the man.

  Ewan laughed.

  “Och, forgive me,” he said. “The man’s likely been planning the words to say o’er yer grave, and here ye are, orderin’ him about.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Standing in the tomb once more, just to the side of the hole and surrounded by all those who were supposedly traveling with her to the twenty-first century, Jules lowered the necklace onto her collarbone, just as Jillian had done a minute before.

  Again, nothing happened.

  The torchlight still rose through the hole. Ewan still gawked up from barrel below.

  Jules huffed. “I don’t know why I need to do this. I wasn’t wearing the necklace when I came through the first time. Neither was James.”

  She didn’t mean to sound cranky, but the six of them had been standing there for a while, and with five hands clamped on her arms, for fear she’d leave without them, she was feeling more than a little claustrophobic.

  Quinn’s arm, wrapped securely around her waist, gave her a little squeeze. When she looked at him, he winked.

  Percy was squished between them with one hand on Juliet’s arm and one wrapped around Quinn’s wrist. The poor kid was scared to death.

  “Each time I’ve done it,” Jillian said, “it happened right when the silver was lowered onto my skin.”

  “Perhaps there are too many people,” James suggested. “I can stay behind—”

  “No,” Monty growled.

  There was something going on there that Juliet didn’t know about.

  Jillian perked up. “I know what it is! The Muirs. There were always Muir twins nearby.”

  Everyone turned to stare at her. No one bothered to say it out loud, that there were Muir twins already inside. Jillian wrinkled her nose and shrugged her shoulders.

  “Well, we’re not old,” she said.

  “By Muir standards, we’re far from old ourselves,” came the voice of one of the sisters. It was hard enough for Jules to tell them apart when she could see them. It was impossible to tell anything from their voices.

  “Mhairi, Margot. We’re ever so glad to see ye,” said Monty to the hole in the floor. “What have we forgotten, ladies? We’re all hangin’ on to Juliet for dear sweet life. She’s wearing the torque, as Jillian has already tried, but it doesna seem to be working.”

  “Och, Laird Montgomery, haven’t we said it had naught to do with the torque?”

  “Aye. Ye did. I remember now. But there must be something more.”

  “Aye, laird. There’s more. But we must have yer promise before we help ye on yer way.”

  Everyone’s eyes bugged out a little, all but Percy’s. They all suspected that making a promise to the Muirs might not be the wisest move. But Jules was desperate. She was going to lose her effing mind if she didn’t get out of there.

  “What is it?” she hollered. “What’s the promise?”

  “The tunnel. You must all promise that no one will ken of it.”

  “An easy promise to keep,” said Quinn.

  “But ye must all vow, and Ewan as well, that the tunnel will never be destroyed.”

  Monty was already shaking his he
ad.

  Jillian bent and looked through the hole. “Why, ladies? Why can’t we destroy it? What if our children wander inside?”

  “They would need to be shown the way. If ye keep the first promise, ye’ll have naught to fear.”

  “Why?” Jules had the feeling they weren’t telling them everything. “Why can’t we get rid of it?”

  There was a long pause. No one moved. No one let go of her.

  “Someone else moves within the tunnel. Cursed. And yet there is hope, as long as the tunnel remains.”

  There hadn’t been anyone inside the tunnel but Percy and her. Or had there? They’d been watching their feet the entire way.

  A shiver rose through her and she looked at Jillian. Her sister felt it too. The tunnel shouldn’t be destroyed.

  “We promise,” they said in unison, then laughed. No one else in their little circle seemed to think it was funny. Under the circumstances, Jules resisted the urge to call out, “Jinx!”

  “We need to go now, ladies,” Quinn called out. “What is it we’ve forgotten?”

  “Wrought with love and sacrifice, Quinn Ross. Love. And sacrifice.”

  One of the sisters laughed. “And shame upon ye, fer thinkin’ we’re a blood-thirsty bunch. The lad would never have been harmed—but what better way to make ye determined to take him along than to forbid ye?”

  Quinn stiffened at her side.

  Jules gave him a little squeeze. When he met her gaze, she gave him a wink.

  “Enough love in here to choke a horse, I’d say.” She turned back to her sister. “What about the sacrifice?”

  The seconds ticked away. No one spoke, though it was clear by their frowns they were all thinking. Then suddenly, James laughed.

  “Sorry, Monty, lad. I ken ye dinna trust me near Isobelle for some reason, but it seems there’s no other choice.” James looked Jules in the eye. “Give ‘em hell, Juliet Bell.”

  One hand loosened its grip on her arm, then disappeared, and with it, the light from below. She was standing in the darkness with the echo of James’ laughter fading from memory. Monty and Jillian released her. Quinn and Percy still held tight. A second later, a flashlight came on. Monty held it in one hand, his other was locked around Jillian’s forearm in a deathgrip.