My Heart Stood Still Lynn Kurland (some good books to read TXT) 📖

good Mrs. Pruitt is cooking, then we can pass the evening in the sitting room listening to our lady read her delightful little tales."

There was one thing Thomas had no trouble deciding, and that was that he had no desire to spend the evening with Roderick as a third wheel.

"Ah, ye're back, lad," Duncan said, coming in behind him. "How was your battle on yonder fair shores? I'm for the inn where we might tell such tales with a fine supper under our noses."

Thomas looked around for any more interruptions. When none materialized, he tried to judge Iolanthe's preferences. She didn't seem any more excited about accompanying Roderick and Duncan to the inn than he felt. So he invited the pair to go on to the inn ahead of them. He looked down at the bodies still littering his floor, then at Iolanthe.

"How does a walk sound?" he asked.

"Pleasing enough," she said carefully.

"A walk to the village?" he suggested.

She nodded. "Lovely. 'Tis a lovely place."

"And such lovely company," he agreed. "It sounds like a perfect afternoon."

That she was willing to even venture to the village was noteworthy. Who knew what other adventures she'd be willing to go on?

Perhaps one to save her life?

"I met some people in New York," he said casually as they walked through the gates. "People you might be interested in."

"Who?"

"A man and a woman."

"Interesting," she said absently.

"They were, actually, and for a very specific reason. The man, Alexander Smith, has a sister who's married to a Highlander."

"A wise choice on her part," Iolanthe said, "but why would that interest me?"

"Because that Highlander is James MacLeod."

She, quite suddenly, choked.

"Yes," Thomas said, looking at her with one raised eyebrow. "That James MacLeod who is, I believe, your great-great-grandfather. You know, the one without a death date."

"Um," she managed.

"My thoughts exactly," he said. "Are you interested in all the other things I learned?"

"Ah ..." she stalled.

"It would seem," he continued, "that there are little gates on his land through which a person can travel back in time." He stopped and looked at her. "Any of this beginning to sound familiar?"

She shifted uncomfortably. "Well, there are the rumors, of course."

"Ambrose didn't know?"

"I'm not one to be speaking for that one—"

"Iolanthe," he warned.

She sighed and relented. "Very well. Aye, Ambrose knows."

"And you know."

"Aye," she admitted. "I know as well."

"And you didn't tell me?"

"What was I to tell you?" she asked. "My grandfather told me there was a means of traveling through time, and that there was a place in the forest where it could be done. But I never tried it myself, so how was I to know 'twas more than fancy?"

"Because you were willing to die for the secret."

"Aye, well," she said, "there is that." She gave him a small smile. "I knew the secret, 'tis true. I also knew that there was a king's ransom in jewels and gold hidden in the fireplace, put there by my great-grandfather, who had extorted them from various smugglers who had come through that same forest gate. And I'd given my word that neither secret would pass my lips on pain of death." She paused. "Can you fault me for being a woman of my word?"

"Six hundred years after—did you say cache of cash in the fireplace?"

"Supposedly. But I had no proof of it. The time-traveling I believed even less." She shrugged. "I've never been back to the Highlands, so all I had were the rumors, and they seemed so fanciful, I couldn't credit them. Ambrose claimed 'twas true, but laird though he might be, he has a powerful weakness for idle tales."

"Well," Thomas said crossing his arms over his chest, "apparently the rumors are true."

"How would you know?"

"Alexander Smith married a woman from the twelfth century. I saw her with my own eyes and listened to the way she talked. And then there is your great-great-grandfather. You have to agree that Jamie is who he says he is. Ambrose's word has to be enough for you on that."

"Aye, I suppose it is." She looked down at the floor. "So," she asked reluctantly, "how is it done?"

"I don't know exactly how it works. What I do know is that in your great-great-grandfather's case, apparently Alex's sister stumbled back into fourteenth-century Scotland and met him then. They married—"

"They always do," she said darkly.

"—and used a time-travel gate in the forest near your home to come back to the twentieth century."

She frowned at him. "Why would you care? Do you have some great desire to see the poverty of Scotland in the past?"

No time like the present to spring his plan on her. "Actually," he said, "I have a very great desire to see just that."

"Why?"

This was the moment, the do-or-die moment that would shape the rest of his life. He hoped it would turn out the way he wanted.

He took a deep breath.

"Because," he said slowly, "because I want to go back to get you."

Chapter 24

Iolanthe stood at the door of the sitting chamber and looked at Thomas, who was talking on the phone to his parents. He was spouting an elaborate ruse about what he planned to do for the next pair of months. By the look on his face, she suspected that he wasn't all that skilled at lying. He hardly sounded convincing, even to her ears. Perhaps he was fortunate in that he was using the telephone instead of having to face his parents. One look would have told them all they needed to know.

"Dad, I know it's the end of September, but it isn't as if I haven't climbed in inclement weather before." Thomas smiled easily, as if willing his parents to believe him. "I'll be perfectly fine."

He held the phone away, which led Iolanthe to believe that his father wasn't very enthusiastic about Thomas's plans.

"I'll be back before Christmas. We'll have a great celebration here at the inn."

The phone was held abruptly away, then Thomas gingerly listened again.

"Mom? Mom, you know I'll be okay. I'm a very good