Choosing the Highlander (31 page)

Amidst the oddities, she looked for doors or windows. Besides a handful of Oriental wall hangings that could potentially conceal points of egress, she saw no way out.

Making a beeline for the nearest tapestry, she said, “How can you be so calm? Did you see what just happened? That evil jerk has my husband, and I don’t believe for a second he has a fair trial in mind.” Yanking up the corner of the tapestry, she saw nothing but bare wall.

“You’ll find when my shop is closed, time is of no consequence.
That
is how I can be calm.”

She was already looking under the next tapestry, taking care not to topple the stuffed, behorned lynx on a pedestal in front of it. Gravois’s words stopped her.
Time is of no consequence.
 

“I take it I won’t find any windows or doors, then. Not until your shop is open again?”

His mouth twitched in a satisfied smile.

Though she got the sense that he had been around innumerable years, his face was smooth with youth. Even the slight crinkles at the corners of his eyes disappeared when his pleased expression faded.

“
Très bien,
my dear. I have not had a chance to offer you my congratulations, as yet. Allow me to treat you to a celebratory tea.” He lifted one elegant arm and made a twirling motion with one finger, indicating she should turn around.

Puzzled, she looked at the tapestry again, but in its place hung a beaded curtain. Curiosity got the best of her and made her part the strings with one hand. Through the opening was a spacious room draped in silks and littered with floor pillows. A knee-height table in the center held a silver tea service complete with a five-tiered tray of sandwiches and petit fours.

She raised an eyebrow at Gravois. “Impressive. I’ll be more impressed if you happen to have a plan for getting Wilhelm out of this mess with Ruthven.”

“I may have a trick or two up my sleeve.” He breezed past her with a delicate clatter of beads. Presiding over the table, he spread his arms in invitation. “
S
'
il vous plaît,
sit. Enjoy this bounty with me and we shall discuss this ‘plan’ you mention.”

Worry for Wilhelm had her stomach in knots, but she picked a pillow and curled her legs beneath her. “All right, Gravois. I’ll play. What do I have to do?”

He
tsked
her as he folded himself into a sitting position across from her. “First, we eat. One must replenish the soul beginning with the meeting of physical needs.” He took his time pouring tea into two china cups with matching saucers.

A wave of frustration made her see red. Rather than let it get the best of her, she squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. She could have tea. She could be polite. Apparently, rushing Gravois was an exercise in futility.

“Thank you.” She took a sip from her cup. The tea was bright and citrusy with a nutty aftertaste. She used to take tea with her mother back in Chicago on special occasions. The flavor and aroma of this tea reminded her of one of her favorites.

“You approve, I take it.” Gravois’s onyx eyes took on the warmth of brotherly affection.

Despite her frustrations, she couldn’t resist his charm. She found herself relaxing as the tea warmed her from the inside out. “This wouldn’t happen to be Golden Monkey, would it?”

“I couldn’t resist pampering you a bit, my dear. I have taken a liking to you.”

He munched a sandwich then dabbed at the corner of his mouth with a napkin. Tall and slender and with features that brought to mind Mediterranean beaches and fast cars, there was no disputing his handsomeness. But her attraction was for one man. And Gravois gave off no vibes that he was anything more than a friend to her.

She allowed him to lead her in small talk, mostly about the culinary delights on table, many of which were new to her, some of which she’d had dozens of times with her mother. The meal brought back soothing memories, but no amount of nostalgia could take her mind off what might be happening to Wilhelm at this very moment.

She took a chance on bringing the conversation around to her predicament. “You mentioned time is of no consequence when your shop is closed. What does that mean, exactly? Are we—I don’t know—outside of time, somehow?”

He inclined his head, a gesture of approval. “That is one way to view it.” She waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t.

“So we could have tea for an hour and then you could make a door and let me out and it could be only seconds after I came inside?”

His gaze unwavering, he said, “Perhaps, if time was amenable.” He popped a lemon-yellow square in his mouth and moaned as he chewed. “Très bon. Have you tried the citrus squares?”

She frowned. He made time seem sentient. And he made those petit fours look amazing.

She snatched one up and nibbled it while she thought out loud. “Amenable. So, you wouldn’t know whether or not you could open your shop at a specific time unless you tried? What if you tried to open a door for me so I enter the courtyard a minute before Wilhelm and I arrive? I could warn him not to go in the inn. I could tell him Ruthven is in there with a small army. You could try it, right? And if it doesn’t work, no harm no foul?”

She held her breath. Could the solution be simple as giving her and Wilhelm a chance to evade Ruthven? Could Wilhelm’s capture be undone?

Gravois reclined on an elbow, a pastry held loosely in his fingers. “Even I, who have the ability to tinker, do not presume to understand the Great Agent or Agents of the world. Perhaps I serve their purposes. Perhaps,” he added with a wink, “I annoy them. But until they see fit to remove my power, I shall do what pleases me, and that, my dear, is to complete broken circles. What you propose does not serve that purpose.”

Her frustration rose again. He was speaking in riddles.

“Broken circles,” she stated, giving him the opening he seemed to crave.

“
Oui.
You and your warrior. Two souls meant to create a unified whole, but time held you apart. I sense the jagged edges of your hearts and I simply brought you together.”

“I thought Leslie’s wish brought us together.”

He shrugged one shoulder. “However it happened, the edges are now joined.”

He made the details of the magic seem unimportant. But to her, they meant everything. How could she free Wilhelm without understanding what her place here was, what her limitations were. Clearly, just by being in Gravois’s shop, she was outside the normal workings of things.

“But the edges aren’t joined. I mean, Wilhelm and I found each other, but now he’s been arrested, and I have no idea how to free him. If Ruthven got his hands on that letter he’d sent to Dornoch, that means this Kenrick he’s told me about isn’t coming. No one knows Wilhelm is in trouble. I have nobody here to help me.”

“Do you not?”

“Oh, of course I have you.” If it wasn’t for Gravois, she would have been captured along with Wilhelm. At least she was free at the moment and could potentially find a way to help him. “But you’re a foreigner like I am. Don’t tell me you have in that head of yours a grasp of Scottish law.”

Actually, she wouldn’t be surprised if he did. He seemed to possess no end of useful knowledge, but she sensed his method of helping, if he chose to do so, would be more indirect and mysterious. Gravois was a meddler who liked to work behind the scenes. Maybe she needed to put more trust in him. He seemed to have her best interest at heart, after all.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any offense. I’m truly grateful for your help. It’s just—I can’t lose him so soon after finding him. I need him, and so does Scotland.”

He waved away her apology. “No offense taken. You are correct. Scotland does need your husband. And it needs you.”

“Me?”

“But of course. Did you not think you might serve a purpose as the wife and confidante of a respected leader and lawmaker?”

Wilhelm wasn’t a leader or lawmaker yet. Gravois spoke as though his eventual graduation to these roles was a foregone conclusion. Did that mean he would escape Ruthven?

“You are thinking too hard, my dear.” He chortled and reached across the table to touch the crease between her brows. “When I suggested you had an ally here, it was not myself I had in mind, but another. One with the power to alter the current.”

“Who? Terran? Anselm? Ewan?” She listed everyone she’d met who might have the ability to come to her aid. “How can I reach them to tell them what’s happened?” She was at such a disadvantage being from another time. When Wilhelm was with her, it didn’t seem to matter, but without him, she lacked the most basic knowledge. She didn’t even know how to send a message.

“Your answer lies beyond that door.” He nodded toward the wall where the original door had been.

The purple door looked like it had been there all along, complete with painted frame and a bell above to announce the entrance of patrons.

“You do know that’s unnerving, right?”

His lips twitched. “One becomes accustomed to it.”

“I’ll bet.” She approached the door. “All right, Gravois. I’ll trust you.”

The door opened by itself.

She’d expected to see the cobblestone courtyard outside, but a narrow brick road lined with row houses stared back at her, as if the shop had been picked up and put down in a completely different spot.

“Curiouser and curiouser,” she said with a glance at Gravois, who merely shrugged one shoulder in response. “Well, where do I go? One of these houses?”

“Number seventeen. But wait one moment. I believe…” He trailed off as he looked down the road. “Ah, yes. Here we are.”

A faint pattering sound drew her gaze to a spot of movement. Was that a—? “It’s a monkey,” she blurted. After the hour she’d spent with Gravois, she wouldn’t have thought it possible to be shocked, but as a monkey in red overalls scampered toward her, she found herself laughing with surprise.

“Have you retrieved it,
mon petit ami?
”

The monkey offered a toothy smile and displayed its prize, which happened to be her backpack.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Give it to her.”

The little creature lifted the bag, which was almost as big as it was.

“Um, thank you,” she said, taking the offering.

The monkey smiled broadly then leapt onto Gravois’s shoulder as the man stooped to receive him.

Shaking her head, she said to Gravois, “You are full of surprises.”

She could have predicted his response: a nonchalant shrug.

Hitching the backpack onto her shoulder, she said, “Number seventeen, huh? Will someone be expecting me?”

“Suffice it to say your appearance will create quite the stir.”

“That’s all you’re going to give me, isn’t it?”

“It is enough. Take care, Madame.”

She recognized the dismissal. Bracing herself to ‘create a stir,’ she stepped out of the shop onto a street that had recently seen rain. The soft echo of her steps on the bricks told her there was no building directly behind her.

Imagining Gravois’s twinkling eyes, she peeked over her shoulder. Sure enough, there was no shop and no mysterious Frenchman with a monkey on his shoulder. Only a grassy lawn sloping down to black water that might have been the River Ness, though a different stretch of it than she’d seen with Wilhelm.

A long glance in each direction showed no familiar landmarks, no tower marking the citadel and the courtyard where Wilhelm had been captured. Apparently, Gravois’s shop could let a person out wherever it wanted—or wherever he wanted—and then vanish into thin air.

A sense of desolation swept over her along with the damp chill of the night. Her only ally, unusual as he was, was now out of reach. Rescuing Wilhelm was up to her…and whoever was behind door number seventeen.

The block of well-kept row houses appeared much longer than a traditional city block, but she’d begun to associate long blocks with Inverness after biking through the city with Leslie. As she walked, she noticed most of the houses were dark. Here and there a window gave off a little light, like from a candle or lantern, but there were no bright, electric lights to be seen. No streetlamps, either. Medieval city dwellers likely didn’t roam the streets after dark. They’d be safe in their homes, getting ready for bed if they weren’t in bed already.

Eventually, she came to number seventeen. One of the ground level windows emitted faint light, as if someone was active at the back of the house. An upstairs window glowed with light too. While she watched, the upstairs light went out.

At least she wouldn’t be waking anybody since it seemed they were just now turning in.

Stepping up to the door, she grasped the knocker that looked like a roaring lion. There was no turning back now. Wilhelm depended on her.

Thud, thud, thud.
Brass met plate with her firm knocks.

Gravois, you better be right about this.
 

After a minute the door opened. A balding man in a dark suit jacket stood in the opening. He held himself with formal bearing: shoulders back, chin high. “Rather late for callers,” he began to say, but he stopped short, skin turning ashen before her eyes. “M—M—Mistress Tarra.”

His eyes rolled back in his head and he fainted.

Chapter 27

Startled, Connie stepped back. Why had this man lost consciousness at seeing her? Except for the backpack, which was mostly behind her, she was in period dress. She shouldn’t appear shocking for any reason.

He’d called her Tarra. Maybe he’d mistaken her for someone else.

Whatever the reason for his fainting, it would make it awkward to ask for help. But that didn’t matter at the moment. She couldn’t leave this poor man like this. He might have hurt himself. Stooping to check for a pulse, she called into the house.

“Um, hello? Hello? Help, please!” Hopefully someone else was around since she wasn’t sure how to tend to someone who’d just passed out.

Looking past the fallen man, she saw a wood plank, wainscoted foyer with an unlit candle chandelier above and a narrow set of stairs leading the way to the upper floor. Warm light came from a room behind the stairs. A silhouette momentarily blocked the light before a gray-haired woman in an apron came hustling across the foyer.