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for delivering his Scarlett back to him.

His sisters would probably thank him for sending along Scarlettā€™s small library as well.  The box that had arrived at Dunskirk with her had contained books.  The complete works of Jane Austen, James Joyce, William Shakespeare, Oscar Wilde, the Scotsman Robert Louis Stevenson, and J.K. Rowling among others.

Scarlett was reading aloud from one of Ms. Rowlingā€™s works, The Half-Blood Prince, to them that night.  Laird had heard the story a dozen times before but never tired of it, neither did Scarlett.  He supposed he was a bit of a ā€˜fanboyā€™ and a ā€˜geekā€™ as well.  It was one of the many things they had in common.

Sheā€™d brought some other small items back with her as well including medicines such as aspirin and antibiotic cream but as Scarlett said, she was mostly willing to let Fate take its course.  As it was Fate and auld Donell that had brought them together, they figured that it knew what was best for them.

ā€œLaird, how aboot some more whiskey over here to warm us on this cold night?ā€ Rhys called.

ā€œGet it yerself,ā€ he said and with a laugh, his brother pushed out his chair and ambled over to the sideboard, uncorking another bottle of Lairdā€™s Achenmeade whiskey.

ā€œHae ye noticed that ye neā€™er seen to mind anyone calling ye Laird anymore, brother?ā€ Rhys asked under his breath.

Laird looked around the room.  There was love everywhere around him.  His family.  His child.  His wife.  How could he mind the name she spoke with such love?  ā€œNay, I dinnae.ā€

ā€œIā€™ll hae to think of something else to call ye then,ā€ Rhys said with a smile.

ā€œBest of luck to you, my brother.ā€

ā€œOch, no, no, no.ā€  Donell shook his head worriedly, looking in on the comfortable scene from the hallway as he passed by.  ā€œNo, this is wrong.  All wrong!  I dinnae bring her here for this.ā€

After all he had made them suffer, he couldnā€™t let it end the way he saw the future unfolding.  They didnā€™t deserve it.  But what to do?  What to do?

He needed help.  Help from someone who would understand.  Someone who wouldnā€™t rail and panic, wasting time when none was available.

A grin creased the old man deeply wrinkled face as the idea struck.  Aha!  That was just the ticket.

Time and space slipped.  A different castle surrounded him, one lit by soft gaslights far beyond the innovation of the sixteenth century.

ā€œWhat are you doing here?ā€ Emmy MacLean neĆ© MacKenzie, the Countess of Stratheclyde, cried out as she rounded the corner of Duart Castle and ran right into the small but energetic form of man she would have been happy enough never to lay eyes on again.  ā€œDonā€™t you dare take me away again.  I warned you before, Donell, I will take you out.ā€

Beside her, her husband tensed.  His massive form bunching with coiled tension as his hands fisted at his sides.  Ready to fight for her as always.

ā€œOch, dinnae get yer panties in a twist, lassie.  I need yer help,ā€ Donell said quickly, breathing a sigh of relief when the lass caught her manā€™s arm.  Sparing him from certain harm.

ā€œHold on, Connor,ā€ Emmy said softly.  ā€œLetā€™s hear him out.ā€

AUTHORā€™S NOTE

 

I hope you enjoyed Taken and all the quirky, fangirl references I put into it.  Itā€™s my own streak of geek coming out.  And the tiny reference at the end to my time travel romance A Laird for All Time.  Perhaps there might be more to tell from Donell, Scarlett, Laird, Emmy and Connor one day.

If youā€™re interested in seeing the bits and pieces of fashion and history that inspired this tale, you can find it all on my Pinterest board dedicated to this book at http://www.pinterest.com/angelinefortin1/taken-a-laird-for-all-time-novel/.

Recently I was working on my family tree and found a strong connection to the Borders of Scotland.  My ancestor was listed again and again as Laird Densmore of Achenmeade.  Achenmeade no longer exists, though family lore places it in the borderlands area near Peebles.  The name Laird confused me though being used as a first name and I discovered that it was sometimes used as a first name even back then, given to a family of importance or status.  Then I discovered it wasnā€™t a given name in my case but an actual title.  I have a Laird in my family tree!  I knew it, but I still loved it as a first name and used it in that fashion in this book.

My Dunskirk castle is the one fictional setting of this book.  I wanted a location closer to the border than reality and history could provide, but it is based quite closely on the very real, medieval Duns Castle not far north of there.  Today, Duns is a hotel that I would dearly love to visit one day.  Most of the other castles I reference are nothing but ruins today.  Crichton, Etal and Norham, though they are open to visitors.  Ford Castle still stands but as I mention, looks nothing today as it once did.  Wark doesnā€™t exist any longer though archeologists are currently digging at the site.

Probably my biggest fabrication is the fact that the Hepburns and the Lindsay clans were enemies when in fact, the opposite is true.  They were allied clans but I did want to have that connection ā€“ not only because the name of Lindsay might be mistaken for a womanā€™s name as it had in the beginning ā€“ but because, Lord Lindsay did advise James IV to withdraw before Flodden.  I like that touch of reality.

Also unbelievably true, the Earl of Angus, Bell the Cat, did blame La Motte, the French emissary, for leading King James into war.  The King responded with the quote, ā€˜Angus, if yer afraid, go home.ā€™

He did.

What is not real is the stories of The Puppet War, though I hope they might be one day soon should I turn my attention to Young Adult Fiction.  The names of the books, Ventriloquist, Marionette and Broken Strings, their author, the characters,

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