Page 14 of Draped in Plaid
A man cleared his throat behind me. “I’ve been expecting ye.”
I turned to see McAlister, the same man I had chained my dungeon in 1544, standing before us, albeit a bit younger now. We stood in an office with wood paneled walls, floor to ceiling shelves, filled with hundreds of tomes and artifacts. A large oak desk stood impressively over a tapestried rug, a leather and iron studded chair looming behind it. The room was all masculine glory, a true tribute to history I guessed, given the number of articles that reminded me of my own time and not so much of the modern era. Sconces on the wall brightly lit the room with artificial light, and curtains pulled back from a window revealed the setting sun outside of Edinburgh.
“These must be the princesses.” McAlister’s eyes glittered with glee as he glanced over the sleeping bairns. “Come, I’ve a temporary nursery for them here before they will be given over to their foster family.”
“Foster family?” I asked. Back in my time, children were fostered out to learn a trade. Was that what McAlister intended for the twins?
“Aye. Ye’ll get a chance to meet them at dinner.”
“Nay, that willna due. We need to meet them now. We canna stay.”
Emma jabbed her elbow into my ribs, shifting me a terse purse of her lips. “My husband means to say, we must not dally. When is dinner to be served?”
“In two hours. Can ye wait that long?”
I glanced to Emma who nodded.
“Aye,” I said.
McAlister narrowed his eyes, roving up and down our forms. “Ye’re not what the queen described as the emissaries she was sending.”
“We are the protectors of the princesses, have no doubt,” I said. “I am Logan Grant, Guardian of Scotland.”
That seemed to satisfy the old man, for he nodded and waved for us to follow. He led us up a set of stairs and into a guest chamber, two cradles in the center. A woman waited there, her face kind, eager. She was middle-aged, with brown hair and a few strands of gray. Her eyes were warm, and she bounced a little on her heels when she took in the sleeping bairns.
Emma smiled at her, and I could tell at once that she liked the woman. I wasna so sure. Trust did not come easy with me for anyone. But, Emma was right. The two lassies had grown up strong and intelligent. McAlister would meet that particular responsibility well.
After placing the bairns in their cradles, I clasped onto the old man’s shoulder while Emma spoke with the nurse.
“Ye understand the task that ye’ve been given?” I stared hard into his eyes, not letting him turn away.
“Aye, my laird. Rest assured, no harm will come to the wee ones. They will be treated as they are, royalty, though we will keep their identity a secret. Not even the nurse here knows their true birth circumstances.”
I watched the nurse tuck the bairns blankets tighter around them. “She will ask questions given we are not dressed in modern clothes.”
“Your cloaks hide your historical garb well,” McAlister assured me. “And your wife, she speaks with an American accent, that is helpful. In the guest chamber upstairs, I’ve clothes the two of ye can change into for dinner.”
I nodded. “If any harm comes to the wee bairns, it will be ye that suffers, I promise ye that. Make no mistake, no matter what time ye’re in, or what country, I will find ye.”
McAlister laughed nervously, glancing at me from the sides of his eyes. “I assure ye, there will be no issue, my laird. Ye have my blood oath.”
I put out my arm and McAlister grabbed hold of it, shaking. I looked sternly into the man’s soul, telling him without words just how deadly serious I was. McAlister met my gaze steadily. The truth of his intent to keep his promise evident.
“Allow me to show the both of ye to a chamber where ye might rest for the two hours before dinner is served,” McAlister said.
I held out my arm for Emma who reluctantly left the bairns in the care of their nurse.
McAlister walked out of the temporary nursery, leading us toward a second staircase. At the very top was another guest chamber. He opened the door revealing a quaint room, a fire lit in the hearth and the lights dimmed lower than they had been below stairs. “I will have our butler come and find ye when the time comes.”
McAlister closed the door behind us.
Light streamed into the room from the double window along the right wall. I walked over to peer outside. A streetlamp just below was the source of the light as the sun had finally taken its descent. I stared down at the modern streets as cars whizzed past and people walked in their odd contemporary clothing, bustling home or to dinner or to shop, or whatever it was that modern people did. Not one of them concerned for an invading army, or for being ambushed on the road by outlaws. Such a different place. A different feel.
There was so much excitement in this world, so much stimulus that I had to close my eyes against it, would have covered up my ears, too.
Emma came up behind me, sliding her hands around my waist and resting her head against my back. I cupped her folded hands in my large grasp, rubbing the soft skin at her wrists.
“We did the right thing,” she murmured.
