Page 24 of Desiring the Highland Laird
“Mayhap.”
“There’s something more,” she said. “Something else I should tell you.”
She rose and moved away from the table, that odd shiver returning to dance down her spine. She turned away, gripping her elbows.
“After I got the stone, I carried it with me to the gala that night. It was in my handbag when I excused myself to go to the restroom.”
“Restroom?”
Her mind raced, wondering what he would call it in his time. “The privy?” She looked at him over her shoulder. He nodded understanding. “Once I was in there, I sensed the stone. I took it out to look at it. It was humming. I thought it strange but there was something about it that made me want to hold it.
“While I was looking at it, invaders came.” She paused again, choosing her words carefully so he would understand. “I left the privy and tried to flee up some stairs, but one of the men caught me.”
She turned to face him then, the memory of it crashing through her. The way Bruce grabbed her by the ankle as she tried to climb the stairs was still fresh. She shivered.
“There was a man. He…he tried to take the stone from me. I realized I knew him. My sister introduced me to him. He was the man she was dating. I managed to get away from him and run up the stairs to hide. But he found me.”
“Ye had the stone with ye?” he asked.
“Yes. It was still humming. When I got up the stairs and hid, though, he found me. He said the stone called to him. I assumed it was because of the humming. That’s when I realized it was glowing faintly and then I swiped my thumb over it. The world shifted in a strange way. Then I woke up in your bed.”
He stared at her with an expression she couldn’t read. Slowly, he rose to his full height.
“The man who chased ye. The one who said the stone called to him. What was his name?”
“His name?”
“Aye. It matters, lass.”
“His name was Bruce MacDonald.”
Chapter Eight
The blood whooshedout of his head so quickly he returned to the chair. He rubbed his forehead, trying to will away the sudden throbbing pain that took up residence upon hearing the man’s name.
MacDonald.
The MacDonald Clan was their sworn enemy. They were determined to gain more power in the region by pushing out the MacLeods. They had a long-standing feud that continued even after they tried brokering peace, peace that was shattered by his youngest brother, Jamie. But something she said made him take note. The man told her the stone called to him. When his da talked of the prophecy—which he still did not believe—he said the stone would call to the one who would come to help them guard and protect it.
“I fear my sister is in danger from him,” she said. “I need the stone back to return home.”
His gaze flickered to her. Her face was lined with worry and there was a bit of fear in her eyes. As much as he wanted to give her back the stone, he couldn’t. Not without knowing more about the MacDonald and the stone itself.
Not only that, but the fact she had come in contact with the one she called the shopkeeper was a clear sign she may belong in the past. He had to find out why, though. What purpose did it serve? And did he believe that as truth?
“Callum,” she said, his name a demand. “I need the stone.”
“I cannae give it to ye,” he said.
“Why not?”
“Ye dinnae understand the power of it,” he said. Nor did he, but he intended to find out.
“Yes, I do. It brought me here. It can take me home.” There was an insistence in her voice that was unmistakable.
“Nay.”
“Not nay.” She dropped her arms to her sides, her hands fisted. “Ithasto take me home. I have to get back to my sister to make sure she’s all right!”
