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“Aye. ’Tis why ’tis a good idea that ye come to the wedding so that he can already see ye and mayhap start changing his mind. He can see ye changed. Ye’re nae the rascal ye used to be nae more.”

Raghnall gave out a loud burst of laughter, scaring a young woman who was churning butter while sitting on the bench outside her house.

“Forgive me, good woman!” he called to her, and she laughed.

He grinned. Why women loved him so, Angus would never understand. He looked like a scoundrel, with his long, ungroomed hair and his clothes that were always covered with dust and had patches on them. Aye, he was athletic, and he carried himself confidently. And he had that sense of humor that made everyone around him feel lighter—unlike Angus. And aye, he sang so well that even Robert the Bruce stopped to listen to him by a campfire.

Were those things that women valued? Not in a husband, surely. Thinking of being a husband reminded him of his current problem.

What in the world was he going to do with Rogene? Part of him wanted to believe her, no matter how ridiculous her story sounded. But he was a rational man, and he didn’t even believe that God could do miracles like time travel. He’d seen many strange things, aye. And he did remember that Owen Cambel’s betrothed—the dark-skinned warrior woman—had a similar accent to Rogene, now that he thought about it. She also had a similar manner of speech, and the way she carried herself… The words she used… But she was from the caliphate, supposedly—although she had appeared rather suddenly in Inverlochy Castle last year. Was there a similar rock with a carving there, too?

Nae. Nonsense.

But that object with lights Rogene had with her, the one that created images and that small flash of lightning…

Now that he couldn’t explain. He had no idea what could make such things happen other than magic. And if he’d accept that this object was magical, he might as well accept the possibility of falling through time.

He glanced at his brother, contemplating. Should he tell him, ask his opinion?

Raghnall marched by his side, staring around and looking like a wolf who was hunting for pleasure.

No. Something told Angus not to say anything. He wasn’t sure if he believed her or not, but chances were, Raghnall would consider her a madwoman, and Angus highly doubted that it would do anyone any good.

But he could ask him another thing.

“I do want ye to stay, even if Laomann would refuse you the land that belongs to ye. Ye can live with me. I ken ye want a home and ye’re tired of living on the road.”

Raghnall raised his brows at Angus. “With ye? And yer new bride? Isna it a wee bit strange?”

“It would have been if I was in love with her. I’m nae.”

Raghnall shrugged. “That isna unusual.”

“Nae. But I’m afraid she’s someone who’s capable of stabbing a man in the back or poisoning him for her own benefit. And she wants Kintail to belong to clan Ross again.”

“Och, brother, what are ye getting yerself into?”

Angus didn’t reply. Silence hung between them, and he knew that Raghnall was thinking of all the days and nights when Angus had taken Raghnall’s, Catrìona’s and Mother’s beatings on himself, even Laomann’s.

“Dinna ye want someone ye could love?” Raghnall asked.

Rogene’s face came to mind, her long, raven hair, that delicious, full lower lip, those beautiful long-lashed eyes that seemed to look right into his soul. Her body, slender and strong and delicious, against him. He’d never met a woman as smart as her and with such an unbreakable spirit, based on how she’d defended Sorcha against her own husband, even though every law said he could punish his wife as he liked.

“Even if there was someone,” he said hoarsely, “’tis out of the question. The deal is done. There’s more at stake than love.”

“Ye have someone, dinna ye?” Raghnall said. “Ye bastart! Who is she?”

“Dinna matter.”

“Och, come on, man, tell me!”

Angus groaned. “God’s blood, Raghnall…”

“Brother, dinna ye think ye’ve done enough duty for this clan? If ye love someone else and dinna want to marry the evil witch, mayhap there’s another way to keep Kintail safe. Ye dinna have to sacrifice yerself all the time.”

Angus hated that there was a seed of truth in Raghnall’s words. And he would love nothing more than to marry Lady Rogene—had he not been betrothed to another, and had Rogene not betrayed his trust.

“There’s a woman I fancy, but ’tisna possible. Ye ken that.”