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“Drinking age is eighteen here.”
“I don’t care.”
He sighed, but his eyes sparkled. He gave her a carefree grin—a rare sight, and one that made him look even more like Dad…
She wiped a sudden tear. “How about a good old steak dinner? I’ll take you out tonight.”
“Can I have a beer then?”
“No.”
“Ugh.” He sat on the chair, dwarfing it with his large frame. “As if I haven’t tried alcohol before.”
“I won’t enable you. And don’t roll your eyes. Look, David, I need to talk to you about something.”
She sat on his bed and leaned on her elbows. She wanted to take his hand in hers, but she knew he’d be uncomfortable.
“I’m pregnant.”
He frowned, looked her up and down, then his eyes widened in horror. “What? By who?”
“By Angus Mackenzie.”
He shook his head, wincing, as though he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “The guy you said you traveled in time to?”
“Yeah.”
“Ha-ha. Funny. Nice prank.”
“I’m not kidding, David. Just listen to me.”
Under his skeptical gaze, she told him about the new inscription in the church registry, the changed wedding date, the fact that there were other documents that said that Euphemia was in Ross while Euphemia was also in Eilean Donan, giving birth to Paul Mackenzie. She showed him Paul’s birth registry and the letter from the doctor stating her estimated delivery date.
He stared at the screen of her phone with the “He is not marrying her. He is marrying you” message written in modern English in bad calligraphy.
He lifted his gaze from the phone and looked at her with concern. “Do you hear how you sound? It’s clear you were raped and drugged and abused and now you’re pregnant by the freaking monster! You need to call the police.”
She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I know it sounds insane. But I…I want to talk to you about this. I want to go back, David.”
“Go back where? To the rapist?”
She sighed. “Back in time. I think it’s me who’s marrying Angus. Not Euphemia. And I think I’m carrying Paul Mackenzie. Not her.”
He stared at her like she were clinically insane. “Fucking hell.”
“Don’t swear,” she said through gathering tears. “You got the scholarship. You’re eighteen. I…I also got the news that the university press wants to publish my thesis as a book, and they offered me an advance of ten thousand pounds, which I’ll transfer to you, so you’ll have some money and won’t have to depend on anyone.”
He shook his head. “You’re not serious.”
Tears were streaming down her face now. “I am.” She stood up. “I didn’t expect you to believe me right away, I do know it sounds completely nuts. But I did hope you’d give me the benefit of the doubt.”
He jumped to his feet. “I don’t care about money or anything else! I just want to protect you from whoever did this to you. I’ll fucking kill the guy!”
“Stop swearing.”
“Stop talking about leaving, about going back to the guy who hurt you!”
She looked at her hands, which were blurry from tears. “He never hurt me. He saved me. I-I’m sorry to be leaving you again. I left you with our aunt and uncle when I went to England. And now this… But I need to go.”
