Page 41 of Desiring the Highland Laird
“Ye dinnae have to answer,” she said in a whisper. “Whatever ye did to make him bring ye back, I’m glad of it.”
Her eyes popped open as she looked up at the woman standing over her. “You are?”
She nodded. “I dinnae think it was the right thing to do, taking ye off to the Sinclairs. I dinnae ken their clan, though I understand them to be decent, honorable folk. But I dinnae think ye should be going to them.”
Something about the way she said that made Evie peer up at her with admiration. “You didn’t?”
“Nay. Let me rinse yer locks, lass.”
She dunked a small pitcher in the water and rinsed the soap from her hair. When she finished, and Evie was perfectly pruney, Roslyn helped her from the bath. She dried off and wrapped herself in a thick blanket. The woman combed out her wet hair and braided it. She handed her a nightdress and robe.
“I’ll let ye dress while I finish up in the kitchen.”
She excused herself to allow Evie some private time to dress. She was grateful for it. Her modern undergarments were discarded on the floor with her cloak and dress, all still sopping wet. She scooped them up and draped them over the chair to let them dry out.
Roslyn hadn’t yet returned. But she had left her some thick stockings for her cold feet. She was grateful for that. Grateful for everything the woman had done for her. In a way, she reminded her of her departed mother. Her mother whom she missed dearly even more so now that she was no longer in the same time zone—hell, the same century—as her sister.
When her feet were covered, she went to the door and pulled it open, peering out into the hall. It was silent and no one was about. She ventured down the hall and found her way to the great hall where Hamish was still sipping his ale.
She hesitated a moment, pulling her robe closer together when he saw her and waved her toward him.
“Come in, lass. Can I offer ye a bit of ale?”
“No, thank you.” She smiled despite herself. Though if she were being honest, she was starving and wishing there was some leftover meal on the table.
She moved toward him, pausing to warm herself by the fire.
“I dinnae ken what happened between the two of ye, but I’m glad to see he came to his senses and brought ye back,” Hamish said.
“Well…” Did she dare explain to him how she bullied Callum into bringing her back? She bit her lip. “Angus Sinclair seems nice enough, but I wasn’t interested in being left there against my will.”
He chuckled, a sound low and deep in his throat. “Indeed.” He took a sip of his ale, dropping the tankard back onto the table with a thump. “Do ye wish to tell me what happened?”
Did she? No. But she cut the man a glance and saw the curiosity shining in his eyes. Eyes that were so much like Callum’s. He sipped his ale and gave her a comfort that made her think he was merely curious, nothing more. He motioned to the chair opposite him which was still near the fire. It didn’t seem to bother him that she was dressed in her nightclothes.
She perched on the chair, folding her hands in her lap and peering at the fire. It was warm and wonderful as she replayed the events of the day in her mind.
“Callum intended to leave me there as though I were nothing more than a discarded garment,” she said, trying to use words Hamish would understand. But the bottom line was, she felt as though she meant nothing to him. That she was disposable. Like a plastic red cup in her time. Tossed away.
“Aye,” Hamish agreed. “But he didn’t. Common sense prevailed.”
“I don’t know if it was common sense or the fact that I embarrassed him in front of Angus Sinclair and his wife,” she said.
“Did ye, now? And how is that?” he asked.
“I told him he was a coward,” she said, still peering into the fire. Hamish emitted a low chuckle. “I told him if he left me there with them, he was hiding from the truth.”
There was a long pause, then he said, “And what truth is that?”
“That I’m from the future and he doesn’t want to believe it,” she said. Her gaze drifted from the fire to Hamish, who had a pensive look on his aged face. “I know it sounds crazy. It sounds crazy to me, too, but I’m living it. I’m here. Maybe for good. I tried everything to convince him. I didn’t realize wounding his pride would be the push he needed. And I didn’t want to be abandoned by him and left to the Sinclairs, despite the fact that they seem like lovely people.”
“Aye…” He said it slowly as he took another swig of ale.
He continued to regard her with an unreadable look. Did Hamish believe her? Would he toss her out on her ear because he thought she was mad?
“He can be a stubborn thing. He doesna believe in the prophecy.”
That got her attention. “Prophecy?”
