Read The Highlander's Folly (The Novels of Loch Moigh Book 3) for Free Online Page B

bottom lip and tried to pull herself together. For the time being, she was safe. That counted for something. She knew Robley and Erin—another reason to be thankful. Plus, after Erin had been sent to the past, she’d managed to return to the twenty-first century, which meant going home was possible.
    When Erin had made the decision to leave the present to return to Robley in the past, she’d shared with Meghan’s family what had happened with Haldor, the faerie warrior who enforced the fae laws. If Madame Giselle wouldn’t return Meghan to her time, maybe Haldor would. Surely he’d be willing to take care of another of Madame Giselle’s transgressions. The fae enforcer must be aware that Madame Giselle was at it again. She had options, and that gave her hope.
    She stopped gnawing on her bottom lip and threw her shoulders back, just as they rode over the top of the hill and into a group of men and adolescent boys. They gaped at her, mouths and eyes open wide. Meghan lifted her chin. She was descended from Irish nobility, Milesians, in fact, and she wasn’t about to show weakness or fear to a bunch of ill-equipped fifteenth-century knights. They weren’t even wearing chain mail. Where were their spurs? They couldn’t be all that successful as knights if they were so poorly outfitted, right?
    A tall, well-built, good-looking man with ebony hair and stunning deep-blue eyes detached himself from the group and approached Hunter. “Where are Nevan, Bertrand and Geoffrey?” He had his hand on the hilt of the dagger at his waist. He shot her a curious look. “Who is this lass, and why is she dressed as a squire and carrying a sword?”
    “Tieren,” Hunter said as he gestured toward her, “this is Lady Meghan of clan McGladrey. My lady, this is Tieren of clan MacKintosh.” He pointed to the others. “There you have Sir Gregory, Sir Murray and Sir Cecil. Good knights all, and trustworthy. You are safe with us.” He glanced her way and gestured to a boy who stood staring at her with open curiosity. “My page, Allain, is the lad by the wagon. Next to him are Tieren’s squire, George, his page, Tristan, and Murray’s squire, John.”
    He went on to introduce the other pages and squires, whose names went in one ear and right out the other. She couldn’t take in any more information. She nodded toward the younger boys. The men moved closer, and her mouth went dry. “I’m pleased to meet all of you, though it’s going to take me a while to learn your names.”
    “Why is she riding Nevan’s horse?” the knight called Gregory asked, eyeing her with suspicion.
    “The fair is gone,” Hunter said, his tone once again filled with resignation. “Along with Nevan and the lads. We found their horses grazing in the field, and I reckoned Nevan would no’ mind if she rode his gelding.”
    Tieren’s eyes widened. “What do you mean gone ?”
    “ ’Tis as if it had never been.” The muscle in Hunter’s clamped jaw twitched again. “No sign remains of the wagons, tables, the Romany or their tents. The ground is bare of any evidence that there was ever aught there. We searched. Nevan and the lads were nowhere to be found.”
    Gregory made the sign of the cross, and all eyes swung to her. Heat rushed to her face. She knew how superstitious people were during this era. She also knew what they did to people whom they suspected of witchcraft or anything else out of the norm.
    “I had nothing to do with it. Hunter believed he was rescuing me from an attack. He nabbed me, and we rode toward this hill. Once I convinced him I hadn’t been in any danger, we rode back together. That’s when we found everything gone.” She met their wary glances. “I swear. I had nothing to do with any of this. All I want is to go home.”
    The blond knight with slightly bowed legs frowned. Cecil. That’s what Hunter had called him. “The lady’s speech sounds foreign,” he remarked, also placing his hand on the hilt of the dagger at his