Page 81

Mark chuckled. “I think I am.”

“You won’t hurt her? You’ll support her and take care of her?”

Mark’s eyes relaxed with understanding and shone with a calm, inner light. “Of course I will.”

And Konnor knew that he would. His mom was ready to live her own life without his support.

And he was ready to live his.

With Marjorie and Colin. Even if it meant going back to the Middle Ages. He was ready to go back, forever, if that was what it took to be with the woman he loved.

He’d go back to the Highlands and wouldn’t stop until he found the faerie or some way to open up the damn tunnel through time. He didn’t know yet what he’d say to his mom, what he’d say to Andy, and what he’d do with his firm… But he’d figure it out, and as soon as he did, he’d take a plane to Scotland and go hiking, and somehow, he would get lost.

But he had to know one thing. “Mark, do you have any relations in the Scottish Highlands?”

“I think my ancestors were Campbells, yeah. Why?”

Konnor grinned. “It’s just you remind me of someone. If you’re anything like him, I think my mom will be all right.”

Chapter 31

Two days later…

Marjorie wiped her forehead with the back of her hand and put her sword back in its sheath. The sun burned her skin after a long training session. The courtyard around her swarmed with activity. Other warriors trained, too, and the air was loud with the ring of swords clashing against each other. She’d hoped regular exercise would take her mind off the constant, nagging pain in her chest that had been there since Konnor left.

But nothing did.

With Ian gone yesterday, she’d plunged into an even deeper darkness and despair.

“Good,” Marjorie said to Colin. “Ye will be a great warrior one day.”

The lad grinned and blushed.

“‘Tis an honor to be trained by ye, my lady.”

“My lady?” She chuckled. “Please.”

“Aye, but ye are. Ye’re a great lady and a great warrior who protected the castle all by yerself.”

Marjorie took a sip from her waterskin. “I would never have been able to do that if nae for our clan. And our good friend.”

Her voice shook a little as she said the last word, and her stomach twisted. She nodded to Colin and went to the well to wash her face. The cool water brought some relief and distracted her a bit from constant thoughts of Konnor. She’d dreamed about him every night, imagining how his life was, hoping he was well. She tried to picture the future, the houses and castles that people had, the horseless carriages that Konnor had described, the cupboards where food didn’t go bad, the boxes with bards that played music whenever one wanted. The world where women were men’s equals.

Her position was remarkable with the freedom her father and her Uncle Neil had given her, but it was because they both felt guilty and wanted to spare her feelings. Any other woman her age would be expected to marry and run her husband’s household, not wield a sword and protect their castle.

“Are ye tired, lass?” Isbeil said behind her back.

Marjorie turned around. The old woman’s kind eyes fixed on her with sympathy and amusement.

“Aye,” Marjorie said, wiping her face with her sleeve. “I’ve been training the lad since the midday meal.”

“I am nae talking about that. Are ye nae tired from this waiting and sighing? ‘Tis already been two sennights since he left.”

Of course, Isbeil saw deeper. And of course, Isbeil was right.

Marjorie propped her hands against her waist. “Aye. But I canna do much about it, can I?”

Isbeil chuckled softly and shook her head. “If ‘tis the story ye keep telling yerself, let us take a walk. Help me gather some herbs.”