The library was just as pleasant as my first visit. The smell of pages gave me comfort I hadn’t known I needed. Books were the one constant in both our worlds. I pulled out a brown leather-bound book at random and opened up the pages. Every word was handwritten, and the fading ink made the pages hard to read. I returned it to the shelf and picked another. This one, the pages were brittle. Not wanting to destroy it, I returned it. It took a few more times to find one that wasn’t written in Latin, faded or on the verge of disintegrating before I found a smaller volume. It was titled Doomes-Day by William Alexander.
Though it wasn’t written with modern words of my time, it was easy enough to follow as I sat in one of the plush chairs that looked fit for a king. I wished I could read in the garden or by the sea, but this would have to do.
It contained a poem about the end of the world with strong religious themes. One verse was “To Angels every where like them they flye, By secret virtue, spiritually prepared.”
Had this William Alexander known that angels walked among us? Duncan had not confirmed that was what he was, but I would bet my life on it. The men I swore had wings had claimed him to be one of them at some point.
As I continued reading, I found several more mentions of angels that spurred more questions than answers. Why were angels here? If William Alexander was to be believed, they had a purpose that led to the apocalypse, if my interpretation was correct. Was that why? Or did they have another purpose? The way my mother had told me the story about Duncan’s past, he’d been planted here to ensure members of the McAllister clan ended up in America. She seemed to believe his downfall was his son. And Duncan had made it clear he had vows.
It was late when I finally closed the book and slipped it back to the space it had occupied on the shelf as I pondered the many questions I had. I lit a candle and I took a leisurely walk to my room, avoiding the great hall. Duncan was gone, and I was a woman alone. As much as I’d like to think I could handle myself, these were different times. When it dawned on me that I could be used as a pawn to get to Duncan, I quickened my steps, easily finding my room. I was getting used to the place. Tomorrow, I would explore the other parts of the castle with an escort, Fiona maybe.
With the moon high and nothing evil swirling in the air, I stood at the window before finally giving in to tiredness. I flopped on my bed and hoped Duncan would stay true to his word and seek me out when he returned. I easily found sleep and dreamed of a man with magnetic blue eyes.
Startled awake, I sat up as clomping footsteps neared the bed.
“Make room,” Duncan said, his brogue seemingly thicker than it had been.
I reached for the candle still lit from my bedside and brought it closer so I could see.
Duncan had something or someone in his arms. I scrambled off the bed as Duncan shifted and set a sleeping woman down.
“Who’s that?” I asked, feeling the bite of jealousy on my tongue.
“Rebecca,” he said. “My betrothed.”
Eleven
Words weren’t enough to express what I was feeling. My stare jumped between him and her. “Why did you bring her here?”
Specifically, into a room that had been designated as mine. I didn’t say that as my mind raced to the conclusion he was done with me. Perhaps he would discard me in favor of her or, worse, he’d give me up to those who hunted me.
“Her carriage was attacked by raiders. All with her had been killed and she was missing. I had no choice but to find her and ensure her safety.”
“Oh,” I said, feeling bad that I’d been worried about me when she’d done nothing to deserve what was happening. “How did you find her?”
“Eaon is an experienced tracker. We caught up to the raiders.” He collapsed on the seat in front of my bed, head bowed, leaning forward with his bloody hands clasped.
That was when I noticed that his shirt was torn in places and stained with blood.
“In time?” I asked, fighting a desire to go to him and clean his wounds. I had none of the modern things to do such. Not even running water. So I stayed put.
He met my gaze with an anguish that spoke of the guilt he felt. “In time to save her virtue?” I gave a sharp nod. “I fear she’s the only one who can answer that. I should have sent guards to escort her back to her father along with the letter that I couldn’t marry her. She was my responsibility.”