thoughts about the wisdom of inviting Catie to stay, and letting her leave with Shane didn’t seem the best idea, either.
“Maybe we shouldn’t have let her go with Shane,” she said.
“How could we have stopped her?” he asked. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. Fairly sure.”
“Should we call Lachlan?”
Sam swallowed hard. “No,” he said. “I don’t think we should call Lachlan. I’m not overly fond of that kid. but I don’t want to see his neck get broken.”
Chapter 9
Things looked brighter for Lizzie the next day. For one, it was literally a bright, sunny day outside, something she hadn’t seen since they crossed the Scottish border almost a week earlier. After going to bed the night before heartsick and ashamed at Quinn dismissing her like she was little more than a booty call, she spent the morning in her borrowed gown, looking out her bed chamber window and forming a plan.
Of course, she had been silly to think one little moment (or big moment— she got distracted for a while remembering every delicious detail) of passion would make Quinn forget her betrayal.
He didn’t know she’d changed, that she’d fully decided the only life she wanted was one that included him. And he wasn’t the sort of simpleton who would be fooled by sex, either. She had to show him by other means that she loved him.
She sighed heavily and rested her head against the window pane. She did love him. During the frantic trip up here she’d been distracted with worry about their impending death at the hands of Solomon Wodge, but now that they were relatively safe, she knew nothing had changed.
Her fingers were sore from sewing up her torn dress, and it was nowhere near finished, but she’d refused the help of a maid, wanting to improve all the skills she would need to continue living in this time. Or Quinn’s time, which was still technically in the past. How they had managed to jump only seven years forward, she didn’t know, but it probably had to do with Oliver’s lack of witchcraft skill and haste in casting the spell.
Oliver! Oh, goodness, she’d completely forgotten him. She jumped up, done mooning for the moment, her determination to win back Quinn’s love and trust fully cemented, even if she didn’t have a rock solid plan yet.
In the hallway, she looked left and right, not sure where Oliver would have ended up. She prayed they were nice to him last night. She knocked lightly on the door where Bella said she could be found and a girl opened it, her face flushed. She let Lizzie in, and Lizzie saw Bella looking even more frazzled than the maid.
“Come in,” Bella said, rocking a toddler who was limp and sweaty. A moment later the boy let out a terrifying cough that wracked his little body, then he fell back into his mother’s arms, screaming inconsolably as if he was in great pain. After the spasm passed, Bella wiped away tears and looked at Lizzie. “This is Callum. He’s been coughing all night, and burning with fever. It came on fast, and doesna want to break.”
Lizzie took a step closer and placed the back of her hand on the boy’s clammy forehead, pulling it away rapidly. That was what a fever felt like, and Lizzie felt a prickle of fear for the baby.
“My husband is from your time, or thereabouts,” Bella said, laying Callum on the bed and smoothing the damp strands of hair from his brow. “He has great faith in the medicine of your time. Ye dinna know anything about it, do ye?” she asked hopefully.
Lizzie shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. It could be pneumonia or bronchitis?”
She thought of something from a television show she’d seen when she was young and pulled up the light muslin shirt the baby wore. His belly and chest had a red, splotchy rash on it and her stomach lurched. Bella looked at the rash and gasped.
“That’s new,” she said, her voice cracking.
She told the maid to run for the physician as fast as she could, and the maid collided with Quinn on her way
“Maybe we shouldn’t have let her go with Shane,” she said.
“How could we have stopped her?” he asked. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. Fairly sure.”
“Should we call Lachlan?”
Sam swallowed hard. “No,” he said. “I don’t think we should call Lachlan. I’m not overly fond of that kid. but I don’t want to see his neck get broken.”
Chapter 9
Things looked brighter for Lizzie the next day. For one, it was literally a bright, sunny day outside, something she hadn’t seen since they crossed the Scottish border almost a week earlier. After going to bed the night before heartsick and ashamed at Quinn dismissing her like she was little more than a booty call, she spent the morning in her borrowed gown, looking out her bed chamber window and forming a plan.
Of course, she had been silly to think one little moment (or big moment— she got distracted for a while remembering every delicious detail) of passion would make Quinn forget her betrayal.
He didn’t know she’d changed, that she’d fully decided the only life she wanted was one that included him. And he wasn’t the sort of simpleton who would be fooled by sex, either. She had to show him by other means that she loved him.
She sighed heavily and rested her head against the window pane. She did love him. During the frantic trip up here she’d been distracted with worry about their impending death at the hands of Solomon Wodge, but now that they were relatively safe, she knew nothing had changed.
Her fingers were sore from sewing up her torn dress, and it was nowhere near finished, but she’d refused the help of a maid, wanting to improve all the skills she would need to continue living in this time. Or Quinn’s time, which was still technically in the past. How they had managed to jump only seven years forward, she didn’t know, but it probably had to do with Oliver’s lack of witchcraft skill and haste in casting the spell.
Oliver! Oh, goodness, she’d completely forgotten him. She jumped up, done mooning for the moment, her determination to win back Quinn’s love and trust fully cemented, even if she didn’t have a rock solid plan yet.
In the hallway, she looked left and right, not sure where Oliver would have ended up. She prayed they were nice to him last night. She knocked lightly on the door where Bella said she could be found and a girl opened it, her face flushed. She let Lizzie in, and Lizzie saw Bella looking even more frazzled than the maid.
“Come in,” Bella said, rocking a toddler who was limp and sweaty. A moment later the boy let out a terrifying cough that wracked his little body, then he fell back into his mother’s arms, screaming inconsolably as if he was in great pain. After the spasm passed, Bella wiped away tears and looked at Lizzie. “This is Callum. He’s been coughing all night, and burning with fever. It came on fast, and doesna want to break.”
Lizzie took a step closer and placed the back of her hand on the boy’s clammy forehead, pulling it away rapidly. That was what a fever felt like, and Lizzie felt a prickle of fear for the baby.
“My husband is from your time, or thereabouts,” Bella said, laying Callum on the bed and smoothing the damp strands of hair from his brow. “He has great faith in the medicine of your time. Ye dinna know anything about it, do ye?” she asked hopefully.
Lizzie shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. It could be pneumonia or bronchitis?”
She thought of something from a television show she’d seen when she was young and pulled up the light muslin shirt the baby wore. His belly and chest had a red, splotchy rash on it and her stomach lurched. Bella looked at the rash and gasped.
“That’s new,” she said, her voice cracking.
She told the maid to run for the physician as fast as she could, and the maid collided with Quinn on her way
Similar Books
