“Because I’m Anne MacLeod, but not the Annie MacLeod you know. On the last full moon, Annie made a wish upon the Fairy Flag and asked to travel to a place where she wouldn’t be forced to handfast with Alex. She told me a portal opened from this time to the future.”
“I’m sorry, are you saying”—Margaret flicked a hand between them—“you’re no’ my cousin?”
“Yes, although I look just like her.”
She smiled, rather indulgently. “Then how did you meet Annie, and how did you get here?”
“Your cousin was overcome with curiosity to see Dunvegan in its future form, and the moment she re-entered the great hall and looked upon the Fairy Flag, she was plucked from the future and returned to the past.”
“I believe in the Fairy Flag, but no’ that great of a tale.” She tweaked her nose. “I’m no’ a bairn anymore, Annie.”
“It’s not a tale. Annie returned to Dunscaith. She’d been there a week when I arrived through a portal from my time. She told me her wish both took and gave, but she promised to find a way to fix what she’d started. That was right before she disappeared before my eyes.”
“And where did she go that time?”
“I don’t know. Finding out what happened to her is one of the reasons I had to come here. The other is to—oh my goodness, the letter.” She launched out of the water, flung the drying cloth around her and dug into her skirt pocket. She clutched the letter to her chest. “I wrote this letter for my parents, one I need them to receive in the future. They perish in a terrible fire in the year two-thousand and eleven, but they might not if they get this.”
“Wheesht! The year two-thousand and eleven? Annie, now you’ve gone too far.” She tut-tutted as she crossed to the trunk, lifted the lid and plucked out a nightrail.
“I can see you don’t believe me. I tried to convince Alex of what had happened, and I was making some leeway, but he—”
“Goodness, I’m surprised your handfast husband didnae have you thrown into the dungeons for such talk. Indulging in a yarn is one thing, but believing in it is quite another.” She yanked off the cloth and tugged the shift over her head. “You clearly need rest. You’re home now, and you’ve naught to worry about.”
Great. She trudged to the bed, heaved the draperies aside and climbed in. If she heard such ramblings, she probably wouldn’t deem them true either. Still, she gripped Margaret’s hand and pressed her point again. “I have no idea how long I’ll be here. Annie disappeared within minutes of us meeting. I fear I could go as quickly. Please, promise me you’ll keep this letter safe, that you’ll ensure it stays here for each future chief to pass along from one to the other, then I’ll know I’ve done all I can.”
“I can see this worries you.” Margaret squeezed her fingers. “If you halt this tale of time travel then I’ll give you my promise to keep your letter safe.”
“Absolutely. I’ll not whisper a word again.” Her heart lightened. She could do that, as long as her parents were given a fighting chance in the future.
“Good, because if Rory hears what you’ve told me, he’ll believe MacDonald at fault for your madness and hunt the man down. We may have fairy blood, but we cannae travel across time. Pass me the letter. I’ll keep it safe within Rory’s locked library box.” She handed it to her, and Margaret eyed the address she’d written on the front. “New Zealand? Where’s that?”
“The other side of the world, a country as yet undiscovered.”
“Annie.” Aghast, she wagged a finger. “I shouldnae have asked. Will you keep your word?”
“Yes, no more talk of time travel. You’ve got—”
A knock sounded.
“I’ll get it.” She opened the door then allowed the lads and maids from earlier to clear everything away. Once they were done, Margaret returned to her side, kissed her cheek. “This letter must remain our secret. Sleep well. I’ll see you in the morn.” She closed the door as she left.
Gosh, had she done enough to ensure her parents’ survival?
Rolling to her side, she burrowed into the soft down mattress. She edged the thick curtain aside to allow the heat from the fire through. A nice warm cocoon. Annie had not left Dunscaith and returned here. She had certainly disappeared, but to where?
Would she have long left here in the past? A day? A week? A lifetime? And what of Alex?
She wasn’t done with him yet.
Alex’s men rowed through the dark, sending their birlinn swiftly across the loch toward the MacLeod stronghold. The long sea crossing was almost at an end. He’d followed closely in Rory MacLeod’s wake with Mother on board, and MacLeod would be forced to honor his invitation, the Highland code of hospitality one he now counted on. Soon he’d see Anne. She’d broken her vow with him, although had MacLeod not taken her, it wouldn’t have happened.
Aye, he needed more time with her. A year was what he’d promised Anne, and a year was what he wanted.