“Aye, that he did. He didn’t have a direct descendent, but he had a brother, and the Druid line prospered.”
“So what is the name of the clan?” Royce asked curiously.
“MacBathe, and when we tell them you both may be able to find the Peckering, which I believe is hidden away in their castle, they will help us find it.”
“Well, then what are we waiting for?” Trevor said, ready to move even though he hadn’t finished his beer.
Chance looked at Royce. “M’princess has to finish her chips …”
* * *
She did—she hurriedly gobbled what was left of her double order of chips—but when he had called her ‘his princess’ something inside her turned into mush.
She told herself to be honest and admit that whenever he called her ‘his anything’ she felt a rush of heat. Love? Was that love or infatuation?
She wasn’t sure; she only knew it was definitely ‘something’.
He took her hand, and she pulled it out of his grasp. “No—you take too much for granted.”
He frowned. “I doona know what ye mean, lass.”
“Well, for one thing. I am a part of your team, but I am also independent. I am fully capable of taking care of myself. I don’t like the way you came down on that young American tourist. He was only tipsy … meant no harm, and I am quite used to taking of situations like that,” she said as Trevor went to pay their bill.
“Are ye now, but here is the thing, lass. I doona like anyone putting their hands on ye.”
“Why?”
“Because ye are under m’protection while ye are a part of our team,” he answered simply.
She felt as though someone had just pricked a hole in her and all the air inside her body was being sucked out! “Oh,” she said in a small voice. “Well, you don’t have to go that far. Perhaps I wanted to stop and chat up those men!”
“Did ye now …?” he said, looking stormy. “Better think twice then—do ye want to chat up silly young men or accomplish yer mission?”
She gave him a cold look and a cold shoulder as she walked towards Trevor.
Trevor opened the door for her, and she stepped out, but even as Chance took her hand against her will, the clouds opened up and they were drenched before he could shift them off.
Grinning, Chance looked her over, bent, and whispered in her ear, “You look lovely in the rain.” He paused as she tried unsuccessfully to pull her hand out of his grip, which only served to send her jacket askew and give him a full view of her wet top, and then added, “… with your clothes soaking wet against yer body …”
Before she could respond, he put a hand on Trevor’s shoulder and shifted them to the Highlands of Scotland, which, as it happened, was also having a downpour.
* * *
They stood on the stone front patio of an enormous castle, and Royce grimaced at Chance and said, “You think you could have shifted us inside?”
“That would have been rude.” His blue eyes twinkled as he looked her over and smirked.
As he pounded on the huge brass knocker, she mumbled, “Yeah, like you would care.”
He chuckled and started to bang on the huge oak door with his fist.
She took a moment to look around at the architecture. She could see that it dated back to ancient times, and although it had been obviously renovated and restored, the family had maintained its original lines, its turrets, peaks and battlements. She said softly, “Magnificent.”
He shot her a quick appreciative look and said, “Yes, I am.”
“Oh take a break from yourself,” she retorted.
“Would you two give it up?” Trevor complained.