General Silverbridge’s makeshift camp outside Caddonfoot was appropriately busy for the morning, and a polite soldier directed them to the church in a town three miles away, where Silverbridge was holding office for the day. Michael hoped Nab would be given the same direction.
The morning was pleasant, and before another hour passed, he and Undine came to the town and made their way to the church. Michael felt his ire rise when he saw the poor clergyman standing outside, having, it seemed, been evicted from his home by a bunch of war-waging English soldiers.
“Good morning, Father,” Michael said, bowing deeply. He’d decided to put on Duncan’s plaid that morning, feeling very much a Scot when he woke, and the hem brushed his shoes.
“G’day to you, son,” the man said, though he couldn’t have been more than a few years older than Michael himself. He had jet-black hair mixed with gray, a friendly smile, and eyes as piercing as a hawk’s. “Welcome to our town. Are ye and your wife traveling through?”
Michael realized the curate must know every face in the village and therefore knew them to be outsiders.
“We are, though she’s not my wife,” he added, finding himself unable to lie to a churchman.
“Not yet,” Undine said with a smile and a curtsy.
Michael introduced them and explained they were looking for the general.
“Och, well, ye dinna have to look far,” the clergyman said. “He and his officers have been camped out in the church since sunup.”
Michael’s eyes were drawn to the quaint, moss-covered roof, humble steeple, and ancient, arched side door.
“I apologize for my countrymen,” Undine said. “They show their ill breeding and worse when they take what isn’t theirs. And a church, no less.” She clucked her tongue.
Michael started so hard his companions turned.
“That’s Kirk of the Forest, isn’t it?” he said, pointing to the church, shocked to the bone.
“Aye, it is,” the clergyman said proudly.
“Th-that’s where William Wallace was declared guardian of Scotland.”
“Indeed, it is, sir.”
Michael didn’t know why he was so shocked. He’d spent his childhood half an hour away and had come many times to the place Scots held an almost religious fervor for. Then he realized why he was surprised. The kirk he’d visited as a child had been in ruins. The one before him now was fully functional—the kind of charming village church you’d find in the center of every Scottish town, from Gretna to John o’ Groats. He spun around to look at the kirkyard and was instantly transported to shoving match between him and Rob MacBain that ended in an excruciating detention for both of them. It was a wonder he’d made it through school.
“Do ye want to go in?” Undine said.
“Oh, aye!” And there it was again, he thought, the accent of his childhood. If he stayed here much longer—
He stopped. Much to his surprise, he found he had no desire at all to return to London of the twenty-first century. Sure, it had theater and Indian food—any food at this point, really, as he hadn’t eaten since the night before—and cars and full-bodied Tempranillos and clean, white sheets and the house he’d lived in with Deirdre—
Aye, even the house he’d lived in with Deirdre. He’d give that up to be here, with Undine, feeling useful again, feeling needed again, feeling alive again. And somehow, he knew Deirdre would approve.
Apparently, running for his life, going hungry, and sleeping rough was not too bad a hardship for him. He looked at the long, sensuous curve of Undine’s neck and remembered how soft the skin he’d caressed there had been. If that was sleeping rough, he’d choose it over a real bed any day—even the bed of the Prince of Anhalt-Bernburg—the blackguard.
The clergyman, whose name was Mr. Fleming, led them to the door. “I willna venture in, but if you say the officer has an appointment with you…”
“I’m most aggrieved on your behalf, sir,” Undine said. “And I will certainly say something to General Silverbridge about taking up residence in your church.”
“Dinna fash yourself, lass. In truth, it probably does their souls good,” he said, then added under his breath, “and I think they can use as much help as they can get.”