A Slip In Time (45 page)

“Smart lad, Donald. Always
was.”

“Rae, what does it say?”

“‘
Twould seem Donald ne’er accepted my
death, nor tha’ ‘twas my body found in the hall. He writes as if
speakin’ tae me right here, saying he’d known in his heart if I had
died. Still, I disappeared so completely, he says he’s found no
reasonable explanation, though he holds his suspicions — or at
least the hope — I did escape.”

Julia tilted her head. “What
suspicions could he have? He didn’t witness any time
slips.”

“He’s a perceptive lad, Donald. He
mentions Moira’s ‘green woman’ in the stairwell, and certain, er,
sounds in m’ chamber at odd hours.”

Julia flushed with warmth and avoided
Lord Muir’s eyes though she believed he was smiling behind that
beard of his.

“Wha’ most convinced him of my
survival was something o’ which I didna know. Once, he followed me
from the hall tae speak wi’ me on some matter. When he entered the
chamber directly after me, I’d already disappeared, as if into thin
air.

“When I likewise disappeared after the
fire, he writes that he has looked for me many years wi’ his sons.
He says he hopes I am safe in another place, wherever ‘tis. He also
says he kept the stone from the talisman, though the metal melted
away.”

Julia and Lord Muir exchanged glances.
“Oh no!”

»«

Julia placed her mother’s ring in the
rosewood box along with several sets of earrings, neck chokers,
bracelets, and several more rings — anything with gemstones,
particularly those of quartz — amethyst, citrine, agate,
tiger’s-eye, and more.

“Are ye done?”

“Yes these should be all.”

Before she could close the box, Rae placed
the large and precious Brooch of Glendar within it as well.

“We dinna know wha’ the crystal in the
brooch is exactly,” he said by way of explanation.

Julia gazed on the lovely jewels, then with
a sigh, closed the top, locked it with her small key, and
accompanied Rae to the door, the box in hand. Angus waited
outside.

“Ye know wha’ tae do wi’ these,” Rae
said, taking the box from Julia and giving it to Angus.

“Aye. Take them as far away as
possible, t’ the other side o’ Britain.”

“London will do.” Julia smiled. “His
lordship has made arrangements to put them in his vault. You know
it is important they stay there, and no such stones be allowed in
Dunraven.”

Angus nodded. “Aye. No telling what
Donald did with the other one, the talisman.”

“Aye, we dinna wish tae be openin’ any
door on the past,” Rae rejoined. “Is the tower keep now completely
sealed off?”

“That ‘tis. Ye need not fear. And his
lordship has moved his library t’ below.”

“Guid. Thank ye, Angus. Lady Mackinnon
and I shall rest easy when the stones are far away.”

“Oh, aye. I’m on my way.” With that,
Angus hurried off, his kilt swishing.

“
Lady Mackinnon
, I like the sound of
that.” Julia smiled up at Rae.

“Ye are my lady,” he said simply. “And
I am still laird of Dunraven, though third or twenty-eighth, I am
no’ sure. Still, that makes ye my lady — Lady Mackinnon o’ Dunraven
Castle.”

Rae brushed his lips over hers,
encircling her waist with one arm. Fleetingly, Julia thought of
Lilith, who so coveted all the titles she might gain through the
Dunnington family, including that as mistress of Dunraven and much
more — that of marchioness. But Lilith had realized none of these,
having returned to England in utter disgrace, Lord Muir’s words
ringing in her Aunt Sybil’s ears.

For Lilith’s collaboration with Roger
and her assault upon Julia, Lord Muir forbade her to darken his
door in any quarter of Britain again. As to his nephew, he avowed
he had cut Roger off without a penny and disinherited him. Lord
Muir further shared the “rumor” that Roger had since fled the
shores ahead of his creditors and sailed for the wilds of North
America. The tale was enough to satisfy any questions that might
arise as to Roger’s whereabouts or fate.

Julia closed her thoughts on the
matter and slipped her arm around Rae’s waist. Together, they
returned to their spacious suite of rooms in the north wing, with
its sweeping view of the Grampians. Standing before the huge
windows, they took in the breathtaking sight.

“Oh, look, Rae, the moon is visible
today in the sky.”

“Aye, ‘tis increasing like
yerself.”

Rae dropped a kiss to the curve of her neck
and began to work upward to her ear.

“D’ye think ye can be happy here? Ye
willna mind no’ havin’ any jewels?”

“I have you.” She smiled, turning in
his arms. “That is more than enough. Of course, there is gold, and
silver, and pearls . . .” she teased. “But as to gemstones? No, we
did what we must. We can’t take the chance of permitting them
within Dunraven’s walls.”

“‘
Tis
truth,
mo cáran.
For who can foretell if Time will slip
again?”

With that, his lips closed over hers, and
Time stood still as their hearts melded to one.

—»»««—

Dear Reader,

I hope you have enjoyed
Rae and Julia’s story,
A Slip in
Time,
which deals with an unusual and
little known phenomena called a ‘time slip’. As time slips are
considered a theory in parapsychology circles, I have taken
generous liberties in its use, particularly with the duration of
the time portal’s opening and the lunar connections. Otherwise,
many of the details follow accounts of those who claim to have
experienced the phenomena such as a sudden heaviness coming into
the air as Time
shifts
.

For those interested in
handfasting in medieval Scotland, Sharon L. Krossa’s article,
“Historical Handfasting,” is excellent. See
http://medievalscotland.org/history/handfasting.shtml
.

• Kathleen Kirkwood
  

Kathleen Kirkwood is the
pseudonym
for award-winning,
best-selling author Anita Gordon. Having an abiding love for
history, she enjoys setting her
stories in
distant times and places long past. To date they include Medieval
adventures and Late Victorian paranormal romances. After forty
years of travels and raising children in various locations,
Kirkwood and her husband have returned to the Southwest where they
first met. Currently, she is dusting off and revising her backlist
for release in digital and print format. She is also working on a
new novel, a haunting tale set on the Chesapeake Bay and the shores
of historic Southern Maryland. Look for
Pirates’ Moon
in late 2012. Visit
her at:

www.kathleenkirkwoodhistoricals.com

http://kathleenkirkwood.blogspot.com/

in print and e-book formats

A widowed Victorian Lady . .
.

A mysterious Viscount . .
.

A remote and ancient castle . .
.

Where ghostly residents stir anew
. . .

A knight returned from Crusade . .
.

A maiden robbed of her birthright
. . .

Mysteries to be solved . .
.

Wrongs to be righted . .
.

And love to be fulfilled, fated
long ago . . .

Once every quarter of a
century,

On the night of the blood red
moon,

A ghostly ship sails
forth,

Out of the mists of time . .
.