The Key to His Castle: A Clean Time Travel Romance (Clan MacGregor Book 5)

by Blanche Dabney

  What could one woman from the twenty-first century hope to achieve that they could not? All she had was a silver key, she didn’t even know how to fight.

  The path beneath them grew steeper and the walk became a climb. Her feet kept slipping on loose stones and she was glad when Gavin called out, “In here.”

  The cave was hardly visible in the dark, its entrance hidden behind a large fallen boulder. She squeezed inside, glad to be out of the rain. The cool air made her shiver but as more people squeezed in, their breath began to warm the space around them.

  “We rest here for the night,” Gavin said, standing up while the clan looked around for spaces to settle. He was little more than a shadow in the darkness of the cave. “Get what sleep you can. In the morning, we shall retake our castle.”

  “How?” someone shouted.

  “We’ll talk tomorrow,” he replied. “For now, rest.”

  Heather almost shrieked when a hand slipped into hers. “It is me,” Gavin whispered in her ear. “This way.”

  “I never heard you,” she replied. “You’re like a ninja.”

  “What’s a ninja?”

  “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”

  “Bruce,” he called out. “I have blankets hidden over there. Make sure the children are warm.”

  “Aye, my laird.”

  “You sound worried.”

  “I just hope Mary got out of there in time.”

  “The Frazers need a tavern just as much as any other clan. I’m sure she will be fine. Hand out the blankets.”

  Gavin made his way through the crowd, placing his feet carefully, avoiding outstretched limbs. Heather did her best to follow him but she could not see as keenly in the dark.

  She apologized to several people as she bumped into arms and legs until she was at the very back of the cave. The walls curved to the right, allowing her and Gavin a little privacy.

  “Here,” he said, guiding her down. “There is a blanket here.”

  She sat down, listening as water dripped from her dress onto the blanket. She couldn’t help but shiver. At once Gavin was beside her, an arm around her shoulder.

  A whirlwind of thoughts passed through her mind. She wanted to leave him to look after his clan. She wanted to never be apart from him again. She turned to look at him, seeing his eyes twinkling in the darkness.

  “Sleep,” he said. “Now.”

  16

  Gavin did not sleep. He sat at the back of the cave, waiting for silence. Each time he had been on the verge of moving someone had stirred. He didn’t want anyone to notice him go.

  If they noticed they might ask him where he was headed. Other people might wake up and before he knew it, he’d have half the clan wanting to come with him.

  This kind of journey was better carried out alone. The more people who came, the more risk. This was his responsibility, he would do it, and he would do it alone.

  His eyes were keen in the darkness. He could see Heather perfectly. She was wrapped up in the blanket, her eyes tightly closed, her mouth slightly open. Laid on her side facing him, she had not long been asleep.

  Guilt washed over him like a wave that could not be fought. It entered his lungs and made it hard to breathe. It was his fault that she was laid in the back of a freezing cold cave rather than in a warm bed. His fault.

  The sallyport was the weakest point of the castle defenses. He had thought the poisoned thorns were enough to protect the clan. What a fool he’d been. He should have stationed a dozen men to guard it, taken them from the battlements if needed.

  It was all well and good having enough archers to fend off frontal assaults. But they had been outflanked and outmaneuvred and despite all his training he’d not seen it coming.

  He was able to see exactly how they’d done it. While his men were distracted by a feint at the front of the castle, Keir led a group to hack down the brambles and break down the door that blocked the sallyport.

  The noise had been drowned by the fight at the front. By the time he knew what was happening it was too late. Outlaws had swarmed into the courtyard, a contingent heading straight for the gates to get them open and allow the Frazers inside.

  He cursed the Frazer name, finding it hard to think that she was one of them. How could a creature so innocent and so beautiful bear any links to Mungo?

  Everyone was asleep at last. He leaned down, planting a single kiss on Heather’s forehead. She stirred slightly, a smile forming on her lips. Then she settled again. Gavin said a silent goodbye before making his way out of the cave, moving as silently as he could. He hardly breathed until he was out in the open. The rain had stopped but the ground was still soaked. The mud pulled at his boots as he walked back the way they’d come.

  An exodus from his own castle. It wasn’t something he’d ever expected to do. Still, so far there had been few complaints. They all trusted him to fix this. He would not let them down. His hands wrapped around his knife, squeezing the handle tightly. He would not let any of them down.

  He felt a presence behind him. A hand touched his shoulder. He whipped around, grabbing the hand and bending it backward, drawing his sword as he did so, ready to strike.

  “Wait,” a voice hissed. “It’s me.”

  “Bruce? What are you doing. I might have killed you.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “To put an end to this.”

  “Alone?”

  “It must be this way. If I do not return make sure Heather gets home safely.”

  “Aye.” Bruce nodded. “Are you sure about this?”

  “It must be this way.”

  He left Bruce behind, walking away swiftly in case his nerve failed.

  He knew the route like the back of his hand. Putting one foot in front of the other, he let his mind wander. No matter where it went it kept coming back to Heather.

  She was special. There was something about her unlike any woman he’d ever known before. It wasn’t just because she’d come from a different time. It was her personality, the way she was around other people.

  He smiled as he thought of her keeping the children calm during the attack. She would make a good wife. If she would have him of course.

  She was supposed to steal the knife he was carrying, stop him killing Mungo during peace negotiations. If what she’d said was true, and he had no reason to doubt it, he would solve that problem himself. He was going to kill Mungo before negotiations could even begin.

  You could not have a treaty with a man who’d stormed your castle, killing your people, sending the rest into exile in fear for their lives. Mungo would die.

  If the old crone was there, she would die too. The rumors about her did not scare him. She would die and then it would all be over. He would ask Heather to marry him and they would run the clan together, maybe even take over Frazer Castle too. Unite the clans. That was what mattered most. Bring peace to the land at last.

  It took most of the night to reach the castle. The sunrise was no more than an hour away. Already the first hints of it were appearing behind the mountains, a slight glow he knew well. He would have to move quick if he wanted to be in and out before they knew what had happened.

  He had no doubt that the rabble were only working well under the orders of Mungo and the old crone. Slice the heads off the hydra and the beast would crumble to dust. The outlaws would vanish to be picked up and dealt with in the future. The Frazers would run. Let them run. He would have his castle back. That was what mattered most.

  Should he have brought his men with him? Tried to storm the place? Or sneak in the sallyport perhaps? He shook his head. They would not fall for the same trick. No doubt they had barred the sallyport more securely than him.

  The outlaws and the Frazers together outside the castle were defeatable. Inside, it would be a slaughter and then where would his clan be? Undefended. He would not let that happen to them.

  The castle came into view in the darkness. He could hear laughter coming from inside. Torches
had been lit at the towers despite the rain but that worked in his favor. The guards by the torches would be able to see nothing beyond the smoky light. He was free to move closer.

  The camp of the besieging army was still there though it was unmanned. He was able to use it as cover, making his way toward the east tower where the stonework bulged out from the battlements. Glancing up he checked to see if anyone had spotted him. Nothing.

  He half expected an arrow through the heart at any moment but there was only that laughter and loud talking coming from within. The smell of roasted pork drifted on the wind. They were eating well on his food. Let them. It would be the last time they received the generosity of the MacGregors.

  Once he reached the east tower he ducked down, feeling his way through the grass, crawling toward the moat. Just before he reached it he stopped. This would be the hardest part.

  He made sure the knife was securely strapped to his waist. Leaving the sword behind under a bush, he took a deep breath and then dived into the water. Pushing downward he reached the bottom a moment later, weeds pulling at his arms, threatening to trap him in place. He forced his way past them, finding the hole in the bottom of the moat a moment later.

  Kicking his legs hard he shoved himself into the hole, swimming along an underwater tunnel until his lungs felt like they might explode. Just as the air was running out in his body he reached the end of the tunnel. Lifting his head he broke the surface of the water, taking a deep breath of fetid air. He was inside the castle.

  They might have secured the main entrances but none of them knew the castle like he did. This sewer was a modern addition though it hadn’t been finished before he was captured.

  Eventually it would run from the kitchen past the garderobe and then out into the moat. For now the tunnel reached just underneath the keep, coming to a dead end in an old store.

  He pulled himself up out of the water into the pitch black room. The store itself had long been boarded up. It dated to the previous castle on the site. The stone vaulting in the roof had collapsed in places so the room had been abandoned. Several thick trunks of wood held up the roof, making sure it didn’t collapse entirely.

  Gavin made his way across the fallen stones to the rotten door. Pulling it open he felt the boards on the other side. Could he get them off without anyone hearing?

  He had no choice but to take the gamble, hoping the noise of their victory feast would drown out what he was doing. Putting his shoulder to the boards, he shoved hard. Nothing happened. Another shove and this time he was rewarded by a cracking sound.

  Leaning back he kicked hard. The lower half of the boards bent back. Kneeling he was able to squeeze through the gap, stepping out into a dark corridor. He waited for a moment. Was anyone coming? There was no sound but that of his own breathing.

  He made his way along the corridor, turning a corner to see a low light up ahead. It shone through the bottom of a locked door. The muniments room, home to all the important documents of the clan. He was surprised the Frazers hadn’t set fire to it. No doubt they were too busy celebrating their victory.

  The door to the muniments room was locked but he knew the trick to it, pulling it from the hinges in just the right way so it swung in his direction, bypassing the lock. Once inside he paused, listening. Still nothing.

  He made his way slowly upward to the next floor. Voices approached. He ducked behind a curtain, listening as two men discussed what they were going to do with their share of the spoils.

  His hand gripped the knife. He thought about jumping out, slicing both their throats. He decided against it. There was a chance they’d be able to shout an alarm before he could silence them both. Better to bide his time.

  As they moved past him, he breathed easier. Once he was sure they were gone he continued on his way, heading up the next flight of stairs, reaching the balcony above the great hall a few moments later.

  Looking down he froze. There were both of his enemies in one place but something wasn’t quite right. The old crone was standing with her back to the fire. In front of her Mungo Frazer was sitting facing the table, staring at a candle while she talked.

  “You were supposed to bring me Gavin MacGregor and that bitch of his and what do you do?”

  Mungo said nothing. It was as if he couldn’t even hear her.

  “You let them escape. One job I give you and you fail entirely.”

  “I am sorry.”

  Gavin winced. That didn’t even sound like Mungo.

  “I will go get them from whatever rock they’re hiding under. Their tracks will be easy to follow after this rain. The outlaws will go with me. They, at least, can be trusted. You and your useless Frazers can stay here until I think what to do with you.”

  “I stay here.”

  “Useless.” She turned away from Mungo, marching across to the door and vanishing through it. Gavin waited until he was sure she wasn’t coming back and then swung his legs over the balcony.

  He dropped neatly to the ground, pulling out the knife as he did so. He approached Mungo silently. The laird of the Frazers didn’t even turn his way. He continued to stare at the candle.

  Gavin found himself looking at the flame. It was shimmering with a yellow blue flame that twisted and shifted and all of a sudden he couldn’t stop looking at it. Wrenching his head, he forced his eyes to focus on Mungo even as his brain cried for him to return his attention to the candle.

  Mungo’s eyes were glazed. “I stay here,” he muttered.

  “Mungo?” Gavin asked, tapping him on the shoulder. “What’s happened to you?”

  No reply.

  Gavin turned back to the candle, leaning down to blow it out. The flame flared and grew instead of going out. “This is dark magic,” he said, picking it up and throwing it into the fire. A blast of flame flew up the chimney, blue, purple, green flashes of light melding together before fading away as if they had never been there.

  The wax candle dripped onto the ashes of the logs at the foot of the fire as Mungo coughed loudly.

  “What’s happening?” Mungo asked. “Gavin? What are you doing in my castle?”

  “Look around you, Mungo.”

  “Goodness gracious. This is your great hall. But how did I get here?”

  “You were being held under a spell but it’s over now. What’s the last thing you remember?”

  “Your parents were coming to talk to me about peace negotiations. I was glad, I didnae want to feud with the MacGregors. I’m getting far too old for fighting.”

  “You dinnae remember them being killed. Your men imprisoning me?”

  Mungo shook his head. “You’re making that up.”

  “I wish I was. Do you remember anything else?”

  “Only that an old woman came to see me. I thought that was strange because I’d told the guards not to let anyone through to my room. She…she said something to me. It was dark and she offered to light the candles. Then nothing until you started talking to me just now.”

  Gavin refused to let his emotions control him. There would be time to grieve for his parents later, for the lost months in the Frazer dungeon.

  “Did I kill your parents?” Mungo asked. “For the love of God, tell me that’s not true.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Gavin said. “It wasn’t your fault. It was hers.”

  “Who?”

  “The old crone. Are you well enough to stand?”

  Mungo tried it, leaning on the table as he tested his legs. “I am well enough.”

  “Then gather up your men. It is time to end this once and for all.”

  Ten minutes later he was riding out on the back of Lairdkiller, the massed ranks of the Frazer army behind him.

  He had to say one thing for them. They were loyal to their leader. Mungo had told them to attack the MacGregors, they attacked. He told them to follow Gavin. They did. No questions asked. Did any of them wonder why their enemy was now their ally? If they did, they kept such thoughts to themselves.

 
Gavin and Mungo rode together at the front. “Ready for this?” Gavin asked.

  “Aye,” Mungo replied. “For your parents and for your people.”

  Gavin corrected him. “For our people.”

  Mungo nodded, his lips narrowing. “For our people, let’s get rid of that old crone before she can do any more damage to the highlands.”

  17

  When Heather woke up and found Gavin missing, her first thought was panic. Someone had kidnapped him in the night. Then she calmed herself down. How likely was that?

  He was laird of an entire clan, hidden right at the back of a cave with dozens of people between him and whatever was outside.

  She thought back to last night, about the way he’d looked like he was on the verge of kissing her. Then he just told her to go to sleep like she was a servant he could order around.

  What did it say about her that she liked it when he told her what to do? Something that didn’t feel very feminist. Great, she thought. Why not chuck some guilt into this churning maelstrom of feelings? You might as well.

  He’d probably just gone outside to go to the bathroom. He would be back in a minute. She had no doubt. He’d come back and he’d give her that look of his, the one that made her melt inside as if she were a schoolgirl with a crush, not an adult perfectly capable of looking after herself.

  There wasn’t much point denying it anymore. The more time they’d spent together the more certain she’d become. She had fallen in love with him. Was it supposed to happen like this? She could only compare it with her previous relationships.

  They were like grains of sand where he commanded an entire beach of emotions. She’d never felt this way about David. She thought theirs had been a reasonable enough relationship but now she could compare with this, she realized it was nothing at all.

  This was love. It was proper love. Like it said in the Princess Bride, that was something that only happened to one couple in a thousand, no matter what the story books said.

  Was she lucky or unlucky? Her one true love lived centuries before her own. If it wasn’t for Tony giving her the key and sending her back, she never would have found him at all. Would she have fallen for someone else? It was possible but she doubted the feeling could ever be as strong as this.