A Laird for All Time (23 page)

She talked to him of computers that held information beyond the iPhone, and were connected to a global network of other computers, allowing her to get information from any place on earth.  Connor was awed by the power the future allowed one to hold within their hand.  Such things advanced at an amazing rate, Emmy told him, comparing the tiny phone as having
more computing power than the roomful of computers it had taken to send the first rockets to the moon.

When they retired to bed that night, together in Connor’s large bed, he could only hold her body next to his, caressing her bare hip or shoulder occasionally as she snuggled next to him.  Connor could not bring himself for that moment to try to make love to her.  He was overwhelmed by what he had learned from her that night.  Suddenly she was no longer simply earthy but rather
otherworldly. As he had thought before, she was beyond his time.  Emmy knew more, had experienced more than he could ever hope to.  She had seen things that awed him, thought commonplace that which intimidated and overwhelmed him.

Connor could not compare with that, could not fight against it and felt insignificant against the scope of her experience.  Perhaps even lovemaking had become more advanced in her time and his ways were old-fashioned and outdated. 

It was a belittling thought.

Again he heard her words.  She had so much more to lose than he if she stayed here.

He now knew it was the truth.

What would she choose?  And could he fault her if
…when she chose her own time?  He thought about the conversation they’d had the previous week after Emmy had discovered Dory’s twins.  Where she came from, they knew.  Here there was nothing but hope.

He might hope that she chose him.

He might not blame her if she did not.

Connor heaved a heavy sigh and Emmy turned in the bed to look at him with a frown.  “All right, spill it,” she told him.

“What?”

“Something’s eating at you.”  Emmy had been listening to his deep sighs for the past ten minutes and he hadn’t laid more than a finger on her.  Something was definitely working in that mind of his.

Connor smoothed her hair back from her face and looked down into her eyes, trying to imagine the moment she realized that she didn’t belong here with him.  A day or year, how could the time come when she came to  regret her time here with him?  It tore at his heart knowing that it would happen eventually.  “Let me just say that yer reluctance to show faith that ye belong in my time is understandable.”

“Meaning?”

“The advantages of yer time clearly overshadow those to be found here.”  He shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant while his heart pounded painfully.  “I cannae see how there would be any competition.  Ye would…will return if ye ha’ the opportunity simply because yer world is a better place.  I can see that now.”

“The twenty-first century isn’t all sunshine and roses, Connor,” Emmy told him softly.  “There are real problems in my time, economic, environmental; the world suffers from war, prejudice, poverty, you name it.  So many people are jaded and violent.  Our priorities are way out of whack, I mean, we put a man on the moon before we figured out putting wheels on our luggage. Sometimes it is just a dreadful place to be.”  She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself against the warmth of his chest.  “Please, please, please,” she begged, “do not underestimate your appeal, Connor.  You offer me something that my own time never has.  I am twenty-eight years old and you are the first person apart from my mother that I have ever said ‘I love you’ to, and the first person I have heard it from since she died.”

“I do love ye,” he whispered in her ear and ran his hands up her bare back.

“And I love you, Connor,” she returned, arching against him and running her hands over his tight buttocks. “That alone is enough to hold me.  I will put my faith in that.  Don’t give up on me.”

“I dinnae want to gi’ up on us.  I had thought I might be too provincial for ye,” Connor confessed, nipping at her neck.  “I dinnae know so much as ye.”

“You know about things I could never dream of,” she sighed.  “You can really be such an idiot sometimes, you know?”

“Ye’ve informed me of as much,” he chuckled in a low voice and ran his tongue behind her ear, earning a little shiver from her.  “I must confess that I fear lovemaking had advanced as well to a point where I might seem gauche and old-fashioned.”

Emmy shuddered but managed a breathy laugh.  “Oh, Connor, believe me, you have nothing to worry about.  I’m afraid in my time you would be so mobbed by women you would never choose me from the crowd, especially if your particular skills were known.”

He laughed in turn, his relief evident.  “Is that so?  Be assured, my love, I would always find ye.”

“I’m glad.”  She ran her hand down his muscled arm.  “Then why don’t you stop lying here wondering and worrying and apply some of those special skills?”

“As you wish, my love.”

“Tell me why I have to learn this again?” Emmy whined, knowing she sounded pitiful as Connor led a saddled horse from the stables adjacent to the castle.  Emmy eyed the animal in trepidation.  It seemed incredibly large and very, very tall
…and was that an evil gleam in its eye?

Connor tugged his oldest and most placid mare along behind him, stifling a hoot of laughter at the look on Emmy
’s face.  Perhaps there were some things that she was not so advanced in after all.  The realization felt surprisingly good.  “Daisy is verra gentle, my love.  If ye plan to continue as the local midwife,” he teased, winking at her when she scowled predictably, “then horseback is a more efficient means of travel.  Indeed it is the best way to get to some of the more remote areas of the island.”

Emmy wrinkled her nose as the horse plodded in her direction.  “You know, Connor, I just think I wasn’t cut out for transportation á la animal.  I’m definitely more of a bus or train kind of girl.”

“Ah, but those things are nae available to ye, so we must make do wi’ what we have.”  He chuckled once again as she eyed old Daisy.

“Connor,” she wailed, backing away.  “It’s big
…and it stinks.  Can’t you just buy a car?”

“Pouting willnae
serve,” Connor responded with mock severity.

“I’m a city girl, Connor!”

“No excuses.”  He bit back another chuckle.  “Come now, up ye go.”

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Emmy gulped as she approached the horse.

“At least I dinnae give ye a side-saddle.”  Connor’s humor was running high now in the face of Emmy’s edginess.  His bold, fearless Emmy brought down by the oldest horse in the stables!

“Well, thank God for small favors.”  Emmy put a booted foot into the stirrup, grabbed the pommel and heaved herself upward while Connor assisted by pushing up on her bottom.  She squealed as his hands cupped and squeezed, and she dropped back to the ground glaring at him.  “Behavior like that will not get me up there, you know.”

“My apologies,” he said humbly, though his eyes spoke another story, twinkling with merriment.  “Yer…jeans, aye?  They hug yer bottom so that the temptation is too strong to ignore.”

“Well, my jeans are covered by a long coat, so you have no excuses,” she chided and faced the animal once more, reaching up for the pommel.  Connor crowded her from behind and slid his arms around her waist, nuzzling the side of her neck.

“My excuse,” he whispered huskily in her ear, “is that I cannae go a moment of my day wi’out remembering ye naked above me wi’ yer hair tangled about yer body as ye scream wi’ pleasure.”

Emmy closed her eyes and shuddered.  “You are pure evil, Connor MacLean.  How do you expect me to sit up on that horse when I’ve got that picture in my mind now?”

“It was the picture that accompanied my mind through my entire morning,” he confessed, stepping back.  That morning he and Emmy had both ‘gone to work’ as she phrased it.  Connor had tended to estate business and ridden out to his home farm while Emmy had examined Dory once more, putting her on bed rest, and then visited aunt Eleanor’s maid who had delivered a daughter the previous week.  She reasoned that they could not spend their entire lives in bed no matter how pleasing it sounded.  Otherwise, she insisted, they might be dead from exhaustion in a week.

Still, it pleased Emmy that she occupied his mind while he was away from her since she had felt the same way all morning
, counting the minutes until she saw him again.  When he had returned, she had nearly leaped into his arms in relief and dragged him back to their rooms.  They had spent a decidedly satisfying hour together before Connor had insisted on this whole charade.

Horses, ugh!  Give her a nice convertible any day.  She yearned for her Mini with the top down and heater cranked up.  Didn’t he realize it was too cold for this?

Another boost put Emmy into the saddle and she stared down at him… and the ground, as he showed her how to hook her feet into the stirrups.  It was an English saddle, she realized with a mental palm to the forehead.  Duh!  Where did she think she was?  Texas?  Of course that’s what they used here, but she had never sat on a horse like this before.  It felt strange, though not as uncomfortable a seat as she remembered the western saddle with her knees drawn up rather than hanging down the horse’s sides.  Connor gave her a brief tutorial on the reins and general instructions regarding how to stop and go.  “But what do I do if she tries to run away?”

“She willnae. Dinnae fret
.”

“But
…”

“Daisy will do nothing beyond what is absolutely necessary, I assure ye.”  He grinned that magnificent smile at her and Emmy couldn’t help but relax a bit.  It just made her feel all mushy inside when he did that.

“I’m pitiful, I know,” she confessed.

“Ye are,” he agreed, “but it has its own charm.”  Connor shot her an affectionate smile that melted her insides.

“Are you sure you want to put up with me?”

“Verra
sure.”  They shared brilliant grins.

Off they went then at a walk.  Connor gave her instructions on how to use her legs to soften the stride as they moved into a trot.  He had been right; Daisy did nothing beyond mimicking Connor’s big horse, Bruce, named for Robert the Bruce, naturally, Connor informed her.  Emmy just bounced along beside him having only to hold on, since steering seemed unnecessary for the moment.  They moved into a
canter that Emmy liked much more since the stride was smoother.  Away to the west they rode toward the mountains in the distance and eventually dropped back into a walk.

At his questioning look, Emmy shrugged, ‘Okay, it’s not so bad.  I feel like I’m getting a nice workout anyway, but I’m still not going to put it on my list of favorite things to do.”

“What are yer favorite things to do?” he asked, wondering how they hadn’t discussed that yet, but amended quickly, “Besides delivering babies.”

“Well, I like music, of course.”  They had spent the previous night running down the remainder of her phone battery as she played her favorite songs for him.  She had been pleased that he finally seemed to appreciate many of them, but had almost cried when the player eventually died, the low battery warning blinking redly at her until the screen finally went blank.  “I like to travel and see new places.  I like to read and visit old buildings and museums.  I like to go to the movies and go to new restaurants.  I love to eat good food.”

Connor remembered her telling him before about all her favorite restaurants in Baltimore.  She seemed to prefer seafood and he made a mental note to talk to the cook about serving her some locally caught seafood. The lobsters and clams were especially delicious.

“That’s about it,” she went on.  “I’m not much of a party girl since college; work sees to that mostly.  I love a quiet night in front of the fireplace with a good book and a glass of wine.”

He could give her that, Connor realized.  Other than the movies, her favorite things were all easily provided in his time.  They could travel together, he thought, to take in the opera and theater in London, Paris and even her New York.  They could dine on the finest cuisine available and visit museums.  They could spend their evenings wrapped in each other’s arms before a roaring fire, perhaps reading to each other.  “I can gi’ ye all those things,” he said softly.

Emmy glanced over at Connor wondering at his serious tone, but realizing when she saw the look on his face.  Reaching out, she caught his hand.  “I already know you can give me all the things I love, Connor.  Didn’t I already tell you that?”

“Ye did, my love.”  He nodded.

“Then stop worrying, okay?  I’m happy right where I am.”

But to Connor’s mind a nagging, ‘for now’ dangled at the end of her sentence.  He still couldn’t understand how she could be happy forever.  Surely the absence of all she left behind would one day lead to her discontent.  Truly, he was almost discontented just thinking about everything he was going to miss!  “What do ye miss the most?”

“Why do you want to torture yourself, Connor?”

He was torturing himself, he admitted, by dwelling on these things.  But perhaps if he knew, he might be able to fix some of them.  “Humor me,” he tossed her own words back at her.

Her lips quirked a bit.  “Fine, then.”  She thought for a moment.  “I miss my car!”  She laughed and he joined her.

“Continue.”

“Efficient heating, I guess.  The fireplace is nice but it doesn’t get warm everywhere, though sleeping with you is better than the best heater.  And I suppose in the summer, I’ll miss air-conditioning.
Or maybe not, here in Scotland.”  She gave him a smile but he waved her on.  “Ice cream…”

“We can make ice cream.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”  She tilted her head back as the horse swayed her from side to side.  “I will miss my music now the battery died.”

“Perhaps we could find
an electrical generator, as ye mentioned, so ye can…charge it up?”  He raised a questioning brow and she nodded that the terminology was correct.

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Is there anything else?” he questioned, but then pounced on the obvious answer before she could provide it.  “Movies, of course.  I would miss movies if I were ye.”

“Of course, movies.”  What else?  Emmy thought of her little house and life in Baltimore.  What else would she miss?  Surely it didn’t all boil down to temperature control, ice cream and music?  She’d miss all kinds of things, her friends, work, restaurants and the theater.  There were tons of things she would miss.  Surely there were.  “I don’t know, Connor.  Stop stressing about it, okay?”

Still, he shook his head and smiled ruefully at her.  “I will attempt to rid myself of worry,” he assured her and changed the subject.  “Tell me something about our future…I mean, our as in the Scots, of course.”

“Of course.”  Emmy wrinkled her brow as she thought and finally confessed, “I wish I knew more to tell you, but, as I mentioned, I was always more interested in the architecture rather than history as a whole.  Let me think.”  She pondered the required college history courses she had taken and what she had seen on the History Channel.  “Queen Victoria dies a few years from now, not long after her 60
th
anniversary on the throne.  Have you met her?”

“Aye, I have, she is a woman of amazing character.”  Connor frowned as he considered her revelation.  “It saddens me that she will soon depart this earth but it is not surprising.  She has led a long, fulfilling life and out-lived children of her own.  What else?”

“Let me see, there will be the Spanish-American war soon, but that will be in Cuba,” Emmy racked her brain but shook her head.  “The Titanic will sink, that was a pretty big deal, but no, not anytime soon.  The Boer Wars, Spanish-American War…can’t remember too much about those.  I can’t think of anything else big for about twenty-odd years.”

“What happens then?”

“War,” she said softly, realizing for the first time that this was not a done deal to Connor; this was his future.  It would affect him much more than it did a student in a classroom a hundred years from now.  It would impact his life and possibly his cousins or future nephews would fight in that war and lose their lives to it.  Emmy swallowed as a wave of sorrow overtook her for the pain he might experience in the years to come.  “They will call it the ‘Great War’, I think,” she went on when she realized he was waiting for her to continue.  “World War I we call it in the history books.  Britain, France and Russia will fight together against Germany.  The US joined in 1917, I think.  I can’t remember why exactly.  Sorry.  It’ll be pretty bad though.  The Russian revolution is in there somewhere, too.  The Tsar’s entire family will be killed by revolutionaries and that monarchy will fall.”

“What of our monarchy?” he asked urgently, thinking the foundation of his nation might change dramatically in the years to come.  As a peer of the realm, he took his government seriously.

“Oh, you’re fine!” she assured him quickly.  “Don’t worry!  The English monarchy is one of the most famous in my time.  ”

“You mean the British monarchy,” Connor corrected.

Emmy frowned.  “No, English.”  But Connor shook his head.  “Are you sure?  In America, Elizabeth is the Queen of England,  Not the Queen of Britain.”

Connor’s brow
just rose haughtily.

Emmy rolled her eyes.  “Fine!  The
British
monarchy is ridiculously popular.  They are treated like celebrities.”

Connor’s brow rose even further.  “
Well, they are very famous, everyone wants to see them, take a picture, you know.”

“It is much the same now,” he said, thinking of the crowds that lined the streets each time the Queen or one of her family ventured out in public.  Connor thought for a moment then asked, “Ye say the war will be called World War I?  Are there more that will follow?”

“Yes, unfortunately, in the 1940’s there will be another along the same lines.  Initially I think the main players were the UK, France and Poland against Germany, Italy and Russia.  Then in 1941, Japan attacked the US, and so we entered the war. Also I think Russia changed sides after Germany attacked them.  I was never very good with history.”