Redeeming Vows (MacCoinnich Time Travel Trilogy 3) - Page 43/72

“We have the same system here. It enables both security and the ability for customers to view items before stepping into our establishment.”

Fin sat closer. “Could you move the camera to the left?”

Liz studied Fin’s face. Fascination and acute attention covered his features.

“It’s a wonderful technology, don’t you think?”

“Aye.” He shook his head, inched closer. “There.”

He pointed toward the left side of the screen.

“See something you like?” Mr. Harrison asked.

“Can you get a closer look?”

“I can zoom in.”

Fin rolled his hand, hurrying the man up.

As the image came into view, Liz felt her throat constrict and her eyes narrow. She reached over and grasped Fin’s hand. He squeezed hers back. A massive tapestry flanked one wall of the London auction house. It was Lora’s. The one she worked on daily. Only this one was complete. The small square that sat blank back at the keep was now filled in with images of the MacCoinnich’s life.

Images of their future.

“Are you interested in the tapestry?”

“Very.”

Mr. Harrison swiveled the screen toward him, tapped on his keyboard, and started printing out information. “I’m not sure this piece is for sale. It’s been hanging on that wall for as long as I remember.

But I can put in a query for you.”

“Can you print up a copy of the tapestry for us to look closer at?”

“I’m one step ahead of you, Miss McAllister.

You’d also be able to research this piece and see better images on your own by using this link here.”

He circled a website on the paper he’d printed out.

After removing the color copy from the printer, Mr. Harrison scrutinized the image. The flesh between his eyes pinched and he peered closer. His eyes shot from the paper to her and Fin, then back to the paper.

“Now I know why you look so familiar. What an uncanny resemblance.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

But she did.

It was hard to miss. Her image, along with Myra, Tara, and Amber stood in a circle. Other scenes played out a fight, with Fin’s image scattered all over the piece of history.

Luckily, the images were made of thread and not pictures.

“This woman here looks just like you.”

Liz lifted her lips into a soft smile. “She’s much prettier than me.”

The image of Myra was near perfect. It was a good thing she wasn’t sitting with them.

“Still, uncanny.”

“I noticed the resemblance. ’Tis why I’d like to learn more about it.” Fin sat back and crossed his massive arms over his chest.

“Here you go.” Mr. Harrison handed Fin several papers after clipping them all together. His gaze shot behind them. “Is he with you?”

Liz turned, noticed Jake hanging back in the store. His eyes glanced their way and then back to the object in front of him.

Selma sighed and stood. “Yeah, we had to drag him in here. He hates antiques.”

Chapter Nineteen

With bulky arms crossed over his chest, Ian stared over the hill down to the makeshift village they’d broken away from only a day before. His men surrounded their personal encampment with claymores in hand. The stronger families did as he had, the weak boiled in the mess below.

Inside, he raged. His son was gone with no clear vision to believe he could return. Part of his very soul shattered the moment he felt Fin and Liz’s absence.

He knew Grainna watched. She must be laughing at the pain and destruction she’d caused.

With their numbers down by two, winning the war against the witch became even more impossible.

Soft footsteps interrupted his thoughts. He turned to see Amber walking his way. She cocked her head to the side and sent him a timid smile. Ian unfolded his arms and opened them to her. Her small frame trembled in his. Quiet sobs echoed his feelings.

“Shh, lass. There is no reason to weep.”

Amber held him tighter. “I weep for you, father.

Because you can’t.”

Ian’s throat constricted, and he blinked hard several times. “I don’t weep because we’ve nothing to mourn. Fin is strong.”

“I know,” she murmured, tears soaking his shirt.

“And Elizabeth.” He laughed. “Elizabeth will berate Finlay until he has no choice but to spin the wheels of time to bring her back to her son. I’d bet the Ancients themselves would take pity on the lad and grant them safe passage.”

This produced a tiny laugh from his daughter.

He wished he could give her more, something solid to hold onto. Hope seemed to be fading by the hour.

Ian pulled away and ran his thumb over Amber’s flushed cheek. He opened his mouth to tell her that everything would fare well, but then closed it. He could not guarantee any outcome. With Amber’s gift, she’d know if he lied. Her gift robbed her of her youth, and her innocence. If it were his choice, he’d have withheld her gift from her until she was of age. When she said she cried because he couldn’t, he knew she’d felt his pain.

For Amber’s benefit, Ian pushed away his doubt and willed his heart to mend. They had to find and destroy Grainna.

With or without Fin and Lizzy.

****

“Are you just going to sit there and do nothing?” Fin lifted his gaze to hers. “I’m thinking.”

“Well, do it faster. You’ve watched your mom working on that thing for years. I can’t believe you’ve never asked her about it. I can’t imagine how many countless hours and bloody fingers she’s endured over it. The least you could have done was show some interest.”

Lizzy paced the room like a caged animal. Jake finally gave up on his constant surveillance and went home to get more clothes. Selma retreated to Simon’s room to rest, not that Fin thought she could with Liz shouting as she was.

“I showed interest.”

“Yeah, right. Like I believe that.”

“I did,” he lied. Why on earth would he have paid any attention to women’s work? He was the one in the tapestry inflicting mortal wounds to their enemies, not the woman chatting over tea. He had no time for such drivel.

He was a Highlander for God’s sake. Even Lizzy, with her thick skull could see that. Couldn’t she? Fin slid a glance her way. Her hands perched on her hips, her mouth firm in a straight line, her accusing eyes glared at him.

Damn. Maybe he should have given his mother a few more minutes of his time over the years.