Much Ado In The Moonlight - Much Ado In The Moonlight Part 31
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Much Ado In The Moonlight Part 31

Victoria looked at her sister in surprise. "What?"

"How did you meet him? You never told me."

Victoria pursed her lips. "Don't beat around the bush, Jenner. Why don't you ask me what you really want to know?" Jennifer smiled, then winced at her cut lip. "I'm curious about him. I can't imagine you brought him over from the States with you unless I'm hanging out in the wrong part of Manhattan." "It's a very long story." "I have lots of time." Victoria sighed. She looked around, but there seemed to be nothing else to distract her sister with besides lunch, and she wasn't all that sure that lunch looked edible. She found that Jennifer was still waiting, rather expectantly, and decided that there was no reason not to answer her.

"All right," she said with a deep sigh, "here's the deal."

She outlined her entire paranormal experience, beginning with Hugh in the prop room and ending with Connor trying out Renaissance outfits in the sitting room.

"Unbelievable," Jennifer said when Victoria finished. "I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen him for myself."

"I wouldn't have believed a lot of things if I hadn't seen them for myself," Victoria agreed.

"What now?" Jennifer asked. "We find Granny, find Michael, go home, then what?"

Victoria blinked. "Then what, what?"

"What are you and Connor going to do?"

Victoria very rarely found herself without something to say. But the fact that her sister had so deftly and with such little mercy cut right to the heart of her most desperate concern was enough to leave her speechless.

"Ah," she managed.

"It isn't as if you can marry a ghost," Jennifer said.

"Marry!" Victoria exclaimed. She blushed furiously and began to babble.

She never blushed.

She never, ever babbled.

It was at that moment that Connor chose to walk through the door.

Jennifer squeaked. "Oh," she managed, putting her hand to her chest. Then she jumped to her feet.

"Vikki..."

Victoria saw. She jumped up, as well, but found quite quickly that there was absolutely nothing she could do. Connor fell. It was probably a good thing he wasn't precisely corporeal; he probably would have gone through the planks. Victoria knelt down next to him as he lay with his cheek against the floor.

"Connor," she said uneasily, "what happened? Was it the knife in the man's back? Did he hurt you?"

Connor shook his head. "He couldn't. But for me to wound him... took all my strength." He closed his eyes. "I'll need to rest. Wielding things... from the mortal world... very taxing."

"Take the bed," Victoria said promptly.

He grunted weakly. "Won't know the... difference."

And with that, he closed his eyes firmly and fell asleep.

Victoria knew this because he began to snore.

"Well," Jennifer said, "at least we'll know when he's awake."

Victoria looked up at her from where she knelt next to him. "I think we should wait for him to... um...

recover."

"I think so, too. We can get some details of where we are from the servants, I imagine. Too bad we don't have a map."

"We can probably get that, too, for a price." She looked at her sister. "I think I need a nap, but we should sleep in shifts. You go first."

"No-"

"Yes. I didn't just get popped in the mouth. Go to bed."

"All right," Jennifer said slowly. "Maybe we should practice your Gaelic this afternoon when I wake up.

You really should put some more effort into it."

"I'm sure it will be incredibly useful here," Victoria replied.

Jennifer smiled gingerly. "I wasn't thinking about here. I can't imagine any Highland laird resisting being wooed in his native tongue." Victoria only half heard the last. But when she realized what her sister had said, protestations rose and fell off her lips.

Jennifer had a point.

Victoria looked at her sister, who was playing possum, then looked at her laird, who was definitely not, and decided that perhaps her time could be used well that afternoon.

She went to sit back at the table, then looked around the room and started naming all the things she could under her breath.

In Connor's native tongue.

On the off chance it would make a difference to him someday.

Chapter 18.

Connor sat up with a groan. He felt much more himself, but he supposed that was nothing to rejoice over. He looked around the chamber and found himself somewhat surprised he was where he was. There had been a part of him that feared the time gates would not work for him.

They had worked in transporting him to another age.

They had not restored him to life.

He hadn't expected that they would. Not truly.

He looked around the very sixteenth-century chamber and marveled at the construction. It looked somewhat like the Boar's Head Inn, though 'twas obvious to him that this chamber was far newer.

It was currently being used not only by him but by Victoria and Jennifer, both of whom were unconscious on the bed. Connor would have feared for their safety, but Jennifer was talking in her sleep and Victoria was reaching over to give her a shove. Obviously, they lived still.

Connor had to admit to being somewhat fascinated by the interaction between the two sisters. He'd had little to do with women as he grew to manhood, having no sisters and a mother who had died in his youth. Victoria and Jennifer were a revelation to him. Neither was shy about expressing opinions on the other's conduct or business. Connor had learned quite quickly that Victoria thought Jennifer should be earning her bread playing music and Jennifer thought Victoria should be finding herself a husband and settling down.

Connor wondered, absently, why Victoria hadn't.

He found it not an unhappy state of affairs, though he certainly couldn't have said why. It wasn't as if he could do a bloody thing about it save dance at her wedding to some lad from her time.

He got to his feet, swayed, then steadied himself as best he could. He wished grimly that he had brought someone else along. How he was going to protect these two women with naught but his wits was beyond him. Then again, hadn't he done as much the night before?

But had it been the night before, or had he been senseless for days?

He would have given that more thought, but a knock sounded on the door, interrupting him.

Victoria sat up with a start, caught sight of him, then relaxed and smiled. "You look better."

"Did I look so ill before?" he asked.

"Well, yes, you did." She rose and went to answer the door. Food arrived and Connor looked at the window to see what the time might be. Daylight again. Well, perhaps he had only slept through the night. Victoria gestured to the table. "There, if you please," she said with a decidedly French accent. The maidservant obeyed, bobbed a curtsey, and left with alacrity. Connor looked at Victoria. "French?" She shrugged. "I thought Scottish, but I wasn't sure how that would play here." "And what, pray, am I to do, mistress?" he asked archly. "I cannot be what I am not." "You just be quiet," she said easily, "and let me do the talking. Jennifer speaks quite a bit of French, so if things really go south, we'll let her see what she can do. But I'm hoping we won't run into any more problems." "Aye," he said, with feeling. He sat down across the table from her. "Are you recovered?" "From the sight of you without your head, or the feeling of that now-dead Londoner groping me?" He couldn't smile. "The latter, surely." "I'll survive. You can't imagine how I appreciated the rescue, though."

"I daresay I can."

She smiled and began to study breakfast. Connor watched her with her hair loose about her shoulders and her features not overwrought with anything but choosing from the offerings before her. How he wished he could have pulled that hair back from her face, brushed it for her, braided it if she pleased.

By the saints, the sight of that whoreson attacking her had made his heart stop.

If he'd had a heart to behave in such a fashion.

The rage that had rushed through him had surprised him, but not rendered him useless. It had given him

strength beyond what he should have had, strength enough to raise a sword and plunge it into the man's back. He supposed he was fortunate he hadn't impaled Victoria, as well. "Connor, are you all right?" He nibbed his hands over his face and gave her a weak smile. "I am well enough." "I would comment on that pleasant expression you're wearing, but I'm trying to be discreet." "Does it make me look less fierce?" he inquired politely. "Definitely." "Then you see why I do not wear it often." She smiled at him and a dimple appeared in her cheek.

Connor fought not to wheeze.

"Aren't you past trying to intimidate me?" she asked. "I think I'm immune."

"What a failure I am as a shade."

"But a success as a fr-"

"By the saints, Victoria McKinnon, if you call me friend one more time, I will produce frown enough to

leave you screaming for days."

Then he realized what he'd said.

His mouth fell open.

Oddly enough, so did hers.

"Ah," he scrambled.

"Um," she attempted.

"Breakfast?" came a cheery voice from the other side of the suddenly quite small chamber. "Wonderful!"

Connor had never been so happy to see anyone as he was to see Jennifer McKinnon, who looked

enough like her sister that she should have given him pause. He vacated his chair for another flame-haired beauty who smiled in a most pleasant, nay, sisterly manner at him, and commented quite complimentarily on his conduct the morning previous.

"So, what are we up to today?" Jennifer asked brightly. "Do we dare venture out? Are we French lads on a lark, or Scots looking for action? Do we actually have any idea where we're supposed to be going? Victoria, eat. It looks good."

Connor looked at Victoria, who was most definitely not looking at him. He conjured up a chair only because he thought he needed something useful beneath his backside. He sat and listened to Jennifer carry on enough conversation for the three of them, acutely aware of Victoria McKinnon sitting next to him, pretending to break her fast.

"Victoria," Jennifer said sharply, "eat."

Victoria ate.

Connor plucked a mug of ale out of invisibility and applied himself diligently to emptying its contents.

Time passed.

Eventually, Jennifer informed them that she had an engagement with the chamber pot and asked if they