Page 48 of Desiring the Highland Laird
Her heart skipped a happy beat at the thought of seeing the rest of the keep and the castle grounds. It was especially interesting to her since the closest she had come to a castle wasreading about it in a history book. She never imagined she would be living in one.
“We’ll go when yer finished.”
She broke the oat cake in half. She wondered why he had a sudden change of heart about everything. Why did he accept her as being from the future and wanting to believe in the prophecy? She wondered if it was something Hamish said to him the previous night, though she wasn’t certain.
Well, she certainly wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth, as her mother used to say. She was going to accept him at his word and hope it wouldn’t backfire on her at some point.
When she finished the rest of the oat cake, she brushed the crumbs from her hands. “I think I’d like to take you up on that tour now.”
He smiled and got to his feet, holding his hand out to her with a genuine smile that sent a warmth cascading through her. Gosh, he was handsome.
She rose and walked around the end of the table, sliding her hand against his. Her heart was doing a funny pitter-pat, something she had never experienced before, and there was a curious swooping in the pit of her stomach. She liked the way his roughened palm fit against hers. The fact that his hand was calloused indicated to her he was a man of action. Not at all like the men of her time with their soft hands and their even softer egos. She had a sense that Callum would take no shit from anyone.
What had Roslyn said?
Fiercely loyal and protective of the ones he loved.
She cut a shy glance up at him as he walked toward the door to exit the castle. Stubble bristled his cheeks and chin. He had a strong jaw and his skin was tanned as though he had spent a great deal of time outside in the elements. She had no doubt he did. Life in the medieval world involved hard labor, not sittingunder fluorescent lights staring at a computer screen twelve hours a day.
“I thought we’d start with the grounds,” he said.
He tipped his head to look down at her. His eyes locked with hers, making her breath hitch. A rush of warmth spread through her chest.
“I’d like that,” she managed, her cheeks warming.
What the devil was wrong with her?
“’Tis a bit cold. Ye’ll need yer cloak. I’ll fetch it for ye.”
He started off toward the guest chambers.
“It’s in my room,” she said as though he needed direction. He didn’t.
As she paused there, glancing around the great hall, she wondered how long the castle had been in their family. How many generations lived here? Moira had mentioned Dundale was nothing but ruins in her time. How sad to think the keep had fallen into decay and neglect.
Callum returned a moment later holding her cloak. His face was white, as though he’d seen a ghost. She took the cloak from him, looking up at him with concern.
“What is it?”
“The tapestries have changed again.”
“Again?”
He nodded and waved for her to follow. She hurried after him back to her bedchamber where she halted next to him, gaping at the wall hangings. Indeed, they had changed. The first one depicted Moira showing the army advancing on her. It had not been there earlier that morning.
The one of her falling showed she had finally landed on the ground. Next to that one, the image of her sister’s face had become clearer. There was no doubt that Chloe was the woman in the design with someone standing behind her, though that had not come clear yet.
“What does it mean?” Evie asked, though she thought she knew already.
“It must mean what we both need to believe.”
There was fear in his eyes when she looked at him.
“And what is that?” she asked.
“That it’s all true.”
He sounded as though he believed. And perhaps she should, too. If Chloe was the next image in the wall hanging, did that mean she was the next to time travel? Did that mean she would find another piece of this mystical keystone? And if she did, what of Bruce?
