My Heart Stood Still by Lynn Kurland (best book club books of all time .TXT) 📕

"You know that Duncan didn't know about the gate," Thomas said, not making it a question. "I'm not lying. Jamie showed me how the gate worked. He trained me in sword-play. He and his kin taught me Gaelic."

"Why?" she asked suspiciously.

Tread carefully, McKinnon, Thomas thought to himself. "Because," he said, choosing his words with the same kind of care he would have used in choosing a foothold on a sheer rock face, "because I wanted to come rescue you."

The sword wavered, then dipped down. "You did?"

"Yes," he said gravely. "I did."

She sat down. "And what would there be in that future of yours for me?" she asked.

"More than is in your past," he said, thinking of Jamie and Elizabeth and the family Iolanthe would have if she'd accept them.

Oh, and him, too.

But it was probably better not to spring that one on her quite yet.

Why didn't someone tell him that getting a woman to fall for you twice was more than twice as difficult?

"I think I should just leave you here to rot," she grumbled. "I vow I can scarce stomach your tale." She shot him a look. "And 'tis difficult for me to divine if you're telling the truth or not."

"Let's look at it this way," he said conversationally. "Let's say you walk away and leave me here. You're a woman dressed in a dead man's clothes, his English clothes, and you're obviously a Scot. How are you going to make it all the way back to the Highlands by yourself?"

"I could."

"And if someone overtook you, or a handful of someones, what do you think would happen?"

"I would fight. As would you. Think you that you would fare any better than I?" she demanded.

He would have shrugged, but she'd been too thorough in tying him up. "It's the awful truth, but I'm a man. I'd probably find my throat slit quite readily, but I doubt I'd be raped."

She glared at him but said nothing.

And that being a look he was intensely familiar with, he relaxed a bit.

"Do you want to go back to the Highlands?" he asked. "To your family? If that's what you want, I'll get you there, and we'll forget the future."

"My family, nay. The Highlands ..." She was silent for a moment. "Aye, I would miss them."

Well, this was getting them somewhere.

"The Highlands it is, then," he said. Then he paused. "Would you like to see for yourself?" he asked slowly. "If the secret of your keep is true or if it's merely a fable?"

She leaned the sword against her knee. "How would I learn the truth of it?"

"You could come with me. Come to the future with me. See what's left of your keep and who inhabits it. See if you like it. And if you don't, I swear I will bring you back here."

"And leave me to myself?" she asked grimly.

He paused for a moment or two. "This is the thing," he said finally. "As long as I have breath in my body, I will not let harm come to you."

She looked at him, and Thomas prayed that she wouldn't take him up on his offer. Unfortunely, he had meant it. If she wanted to come back to the fourteenth century, he would.

Heaven help him.

But when she looked at him with those eyes that from this distance looked as gray as storm clouds, he couldn't help but wish that whatever century she decided on, she would someday want him to share it with her.

"Cut me loose and let's go," he urged.

"Where—"

A shout in the distance had both of them gasping in surprise.

"Now!" he exclaimed.

She pulled out her dagger. Thomas had the briefest flash of fear that she intended to slit his throat and then take off. Instead, she merely cut his hands and ankles and hauled him to his feet. He groaned at the pain of blood rushing to his abused extremities.

"Here," she said shoving his sword at him. He stumbled behind her to their horses. Fortunately they had no gear, which made breaking camp an exceptionally easy thing to do. Thomas flung himself onto his horse and watched Iolanthe do the same.

"There they are!" she said, pointing in front of him to his right. "It's the English-man!"

"Damn," Thomas said as he pulled his horse around and plunged it into the shadows of trees. "I didn't think he'd come after us!"

"Wounded pride," Iolanthe said. "Where go we?"

Away was the only direction he could think of, so he led them at an unsafe speed away from the shouts until the shouts were nothing but curses fading into the distance.

He followed a trail that led through the woods until it broke suddenly out onto a road. And the road stretched for what seemed like miles without any kind of cover on either side of it. He looked up at the sun, trying to judge then-position. Based on his own calculations—which probably weren't that accurate, given the week he'd had so far—he thought they were south of the inn and probably fifty miles west of the eastern coast of Northumberland. Very much in England. Rather far away from anything useful. Jamie had shown him a map of England with the gates they'd investigated so far. Thomas had memorized it and also memorized the gates that Jamie said he wasn't all that sure about. Those had seemed a risky proposition, but Thomas hadn't been willing to discount any possibilities.

The one gate Jamie was sure of was the one near Falcon-berg. It was a faery ring that Alex and Margaret had discovered, and it apparently led one immediately back to Jamie's land. Thomas considered it, then discarded it. Falconberg was a good hundred fifty miles south of their position and well inland.

More unpredictable were another pair of gates that Jamie had suspected might serve. He hadn't traveled through them personally, but apparently Alex and Margaret had had a few unexpected visitors come their way, and those were the locations they'd been given. Thomas