He had no idea which lie she was referring to, so he asked, “About what?”
“I’ve met Shona MacKinnish, and it’s nae possible she’s yer mother.” An owl hooted loudly as if in agreement.
Rhys scanned the dark woods around them, wondering what sort of dangers lurked in these forests. It was too bad he didn’t have his gun with him. “Can you prove it?” He figured it couldn’t hurt to challenge her.
“I could if she were still here, but since she disappeared, I do nae suppose I can. But all the same, Shona is nae old enough to be yer mother. By her looks, I’d say she’s nae more than twenty summers.”
The comment caused a question to bubble up. Would his mother have come back the same age she had been when she’d left, or would she have aged?
“Twenty-one summers,” he said before he’d even realized he’d spoken aloud. Well, she’d be twenty-one if what his dad had told him was to be believed. And at this point, it seemed pretty damned hard to deny that his dad had been telling the truth. His dad had said Mom had left her time when she was twenty-one and they’d met that December on New Year’s Eve.
“So ye admit ye are a liar?” the woman demanded.
“Not normally,” he replied. There was a tug-of-war going on in his head between what he had believed to be true and what was, in fact, real.
“Ye don’t normally admit ye are a liar or ye do nae normally lie?”
“I don’t normally lie,” he said, scrubbing a hand over his face. He was exhausted. He felt as if he’d just finished the longest boxing match of his life and gotten the crap beaten out of him. Damn, time travel was draining.
“So why did ye lie?”
He didn’t know how to explain it in a way she’d believe. He barely believed it all himself. He needed to turn the tables, think the way he did when he was dealing with a difficult business negotiation. “Why were you swimming alone in the sea so late at night?”
She opened and closed her mouth several times, then let out a harrumph. “’Tis nae any of yer concern.”
“That’s exactly how I feel about your question,” he said, unable to keep the amusement out of his tone.
Her eyes narrowed further. Apparently women of the middle ages desired plausible explanations just as much as modern day women. “Shona,” he began, deciding to stick as close to the truth as possible, “well, Shona was to wed my friend, and then she disappeared. He’s fallen very ill and may die, and the doctor—”
Her face scrunched up. “The what?”
“The, um, healer suggested that it might help if Shona spoke to him. He’s, uh, in a deep sleep.”
“Oh,” she said, the one word full of empathy. “I’ve seen that before. Someone injured who sleeps as if they were dead. Where I live—”
“Where is that?” he asked.
“Castle Lochlavine, near the border.”
He nodded. He understood that she was referring to the border between England and Scotland, but his knowledge of the geography of the two countries during this period was a distant memory and not one that would be reliable enough for him to count on to lead him where he needed to go quickly. He’d need someone to help him find his way around.
“Ye should have been truthful,” she went on. “Why were ye nae?”
“I was afraid Shona wouldn’t come with me,” he lied again.
The woman frowned. “I did nae know Grace’s sister was ever betrothed. Of course, as I said, I only met her once before she disappeared, so I did nae really know her.”
Rhys felt as if he was trying to put together a puzzle when most of the pieces were missing. He needed more information without giving much of his own. “Does anyone have any idea what happened to her?”
“They think she was kidnapped. Laird MacKinnish is verra wealthy and powerful, and many men wanted to wed Shona to gain ties to her father.”
“What about Grace?” Rhys prodded. “Is Grace here?” A surreal feeling, as if he was not really having this conversation but was an observer floating above his body, came over him. This detachment from reality had to be what doing drugs felt like.Had. To. Be. He’d never touched drugs, though. He liked an occasional scotch with his dad or a beer with one of his brothers, even a shot now and then as he’d had with his brothers earlier that night.
Or is tonight really now hundreds of years ago?
He shook his head.
Focus.
