Page 76 of A Hellion for the Highland Hawk
Nancy looked at the clock again. It was ten o’clock. One hour and forty-five minutes until she was due to meet Hunter in his room, and she hadn’t even thought about wrestling herself into her wedding dress yet.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I just… I don’t know. I want to believe there’s a way around history, but what if there isn’t? What if this is some time travel carousel, and every time I’ve tried, I’ve failed? IknowI’m the bride he dies protecting on June 10th, but if there’s no bride to protect, he might survive. Then again, he might just die another way, at the hand of the same person.”
Adeline sucked in a breath through her teeth. “Even after going through it myself, this time travel stuff hurts my head.”
It hurts my heart, too,Nancy neglected to say, wishing she hadtaken a few more sips of that powerful whiskey.
“I’ll bring the note with me, in case I need to make a hasty exit,” she said, frowning as a thought came to her. “Speaking of which, did one of you write the note about the Hawk? It was in your apartment, Adeline. I wouldn’t have gone to the museum without it, though I thought it was weird that two people were writing a book about the Hawk at the same time.”
Jane shook her head. “What did the note say?”
“Look for the Hawk. Might help with the book,” Nancy replied.
“Adeline?” Jane looked down at her sister, who also shook her head.
“Wasn’t me.”
Jane turned to stare at Nancy. “Maybe it was you.”
“Me? I didn’t write it,” Nancy protested.
“Or, you haven’t written ityet,” Adeline emphasized. “You needed a reason to visit that museum and see that tapestry. What could have guided you there, other than a note about the Hawk? To get you in the right place at the right time. You found it in myapartment, yes? Of course, you’d think it was weird. Weird enough to follow a trail that took you to the museum.”
Nancy shook her head. “No… no, that can’t be it. Otherwise, I’d have already written and sent it. There’s no time now for me to send it.”
“Maybe you stay no matter what happens tomorrow,” Adeline suggested, her smile sad.
“Then I’d be more likely to write myself a warning not to visit that museum under any circumstances,” Nancy pointed out, her head beginning to hurt again. “Besides, it wasn’t my handwriting.”
Adeline puffed out a breath. “It could be that Emma leaves it, misunderstanding the message in the box. Ididmention the tapestry in the letter. I mentioned it all, to be honest. I’m not much of a writer, but if you don’t go back, at least Emma will know your story.”
Nancy stared at her in open disbelief. “After you told me off for wanting to write an article about you,youwrote about me?”
“Emma won’t tell anyone,” Adeline assured her. “She just catalogs everything, for posterity.”
With a half-smile, Jane tutted at her sister. “One rule for me, another for thee. Shame on you, Addie.”
“I… didn’t think.” Adeline cringed. “Sorry, Nancy. It won’t go further than Emma, I swear.”
Nancy knew she should probably be more annoyed than she was, but as she glanced at the clock again and thought of what tonight and tomorrow would bring, a clash of pleasure and potential agony, there was a funny feeling of… gratitude. A sense that, even if she didn’t return to her time, her story wouldn’t be lost. She wouldn’t be another forgotten missing woman, even if no one ever read about her.
But how does it end?
She took a shaky breath, for a story was worth nothing without an ending. And it was only a matter of hours—midday tomorrow, to be exact—before fate wrote hers and Hunter’s.
CHAPTER 32
Hesitant footstepsin the hallway outside his chambers alerted him to her arrival. His bride’s arrival.
I kent ye’d come, lass.
As the night had worn on, Hunter had still wondered if she would disappear, traveling back to her world before he could stop her. Yet, something inside him had told him that she was still in the castle, still in his time, still choosing to remain for whatever might happen.
He walked quietly to the door and opened it, not giving her the chance to knock.
Nancy blinked up at him in surprise, her lips parting, though he was the one who felt the urge to gasp. He didn’t, but the feeling of awe lingered as his gaze roved over the beautiful, ethereal majesty of her.
She wore a gown of silver silk, delicately embroidered with subtle, swirling patterns that caught the low light, reminding him of the starlight at the top of Castle Culloch’s tallest tower. Her hair was loose, falling in lustrous waves past her shoulders.
