Page 5 of Time of the Druid (Stones of Scotland #7)

Chapter 5

H is eyes were deceiving him.

Matthew stared at the woman in front of him, sure he must be wrong. It couldn’t be her. Not here. Not after all this time. But the longer he looked, the more certain he became.

There was a jolt of shock, of course. But something else crept in too—an unexpected flicker of gladness. He hadn’t let himself think of her in years, not properly, but she’d never quite vanished from the back of his mind. And now here she was. Real.

He hadn’t expected to see her again—except in the kind of idle, impossible daydreams that surfaced when he couldn’t sleep. But he would never have forgotten what she looked like. Not in a million years.

"Norah?" he asked, incredulous. Surely, it wasn’t possible. But her eyes widened, and he knew he was correct.

His gaze slipped to the big, burly man beside her, whose face was just as familiar.

"Jack?"

"You already know our guests?" Caradoc asked, his thin eyebrows rising in suspicion. His voice was mild, almost pleasant, but Matthew didn’t miss the flicker of calculation in his eyes or the way his fingers curled in slightly at his sides. Caradoc had a talent for playing the harmless observer, but Matthew knew better. He could be sly when he wanted to be, and mean, for all he gave the impression of being a meek, thoughtful novice. It would not do for him to suspect anything—not when Matthew had no idea what Norah and Jack were really doing here.

"I believe we have met," he said carefully. "Although it would have been a long time ago, if I am not mistaken. Before I joined your ranks here in the nemeton."

"Yes," Norah said, her smile forced. "A very long time ago. Before I became a widow and had to travel here for safety."

Matthew’s first thought was shock that Norah had married, let alone been widowed. Then he realised the strange emphasis she’d put on her words—and the ridiculousness that she would have ended up in an Iron Age druid grove on a search for safety. Whatever game Norah was playing, this was clearly her cover story.

"My condolences, madam," he said smoothly. "I hope that you will enjoy your time here."

Caradoc was still eyeing him suspiciously, so Matthew had no choice but to bow his head and turn away.

"Perhaps later we will have the chance to reminisce," he said, directing the words at Norah. Hopefully she would take the hint.

The next hour passed with frustrating slowness. Matthew had meant to go back to his studies, but instead he found himself walking the outer paths of the village, trying to think.

She shouldn’t be here. Not just because it was impossible—though it was—but because it complicated everything. Edmondson’s people didn’t show up by accident, and whatever reason Norah had come, it couldn’t be good. Not for him. Not for the grove.

He tried to stay calm, to look as though he belonged exactly where he was. One of the druids in walking meditation, nothing more. But his thoughts were anything but peaceful.

He didn’t know what worried him more—the idea that she might be here on Edmondson’s orders, or that she might be working for someone else entirely. The way she’d looked at him, so carefully polite, so deliberately blank… it had set every instinct on edge.

And still, beneath all that worry, a ridiculous part of him was glad to see her.

He hadn’t let himself think about her in years. Not properly. But she’d never quite disappeared from the back of his mind. She looked older now—stronger, sharper—but still unmistakably Norah.

In all honesty, he was excited to speak with her again. Who wouldn’t be excited to see his first crush again, especially when she still looked just as beautiful?

Norah finally found him in the dining area, just as dusk was drawing in. Most of the druids had already eaten but Matthew had held back, waiting for Norah to arrive. As she and Jack made their way toward the line of people still waiting by the communal cauldron, Matthew smoothly slid in beside them.

"Allow me to help you," he said. "Visitors are sometimes confused by our systems."

Falda, the chief druid, smiled approvingly. Caradoc still looked distinctly unhappy about Matthew’s presence, but at least he didn’t say anything. The slimy little man had always resented the fact that Matthew was the most skilled novice.

"Thank you," Norah said brightly. Her accent, light and lilting, gave a charming rhythm to the British tongue. Matthew couldn’t help but be struck by how easily the words fell from her lips—so smooth, so familiar, like she’d always belonged in this world. She probably hadn’t spoken this version of the language before, yet it came to her effortlessly.

He noticed the faint glint of a language chip tucked behind her fiery red hair, barely visible unless you were looking for it. Even so, the way she carried herself, the confidence in her tone—it wasn’t just technology. Norah had always been a natural at time travel. She could land anywhere in history and look like she belonged. He remembered that about her. It was one of the things that had made her stand out, back then. And clearly, it hadn’t changed.

“So, what brings you here?" he asked softly as Norah received a bowl of stew and settled down on one of the long benches. He sat down beside her, close enough that their thighs almost brushed. The closeness was tantalising, and he fought to keep his mind on the conversation, which must remain quiet and subtle.

"We’re testing how far back the machines can go," Norah said softly. "This kind of long-distance time travel could be worth a lot of money. We’ve gone commercial since your father disappeared, you know. Or at least we’re trying to."

The words slipped out smoothly and her eyes were guileless, but Matthew knew instinctively that she was lying.

"Interesting," he said lightly. "I had no idea Edmondson Laboratories would change direction so rapidly."

Norah shrugged.

"Not so rapidly," she said. "He’s been gone almost a year."

Matthew nodded, his mind whirring. Why would Norah lie to him about her reason for being here? The story she’d given wasn’t entirely implausible, but it wasn’t quite right either. Too smooth. Too prepared. And far too detached for someone who’d just stepped back into the past and bumped into an old acquaintance.

And had Edmondson really not returned to the twenty-first century? That part stuck with him. If Edmondson was still missing, then who was running things? Who had sent Norah—and for what purpose? Of course, it was possible that a less senior staff member like Norah wouldn’t know where Edmondson was. But that didn’t fit, either. She’d always been one of his favourites. His protégée, some had whispered.

There had been rumours, even before Matthew left, about special projects, hidden files, missions no one else knew about. If Norah had been part of that inner circle, then she knew far more than she was letting on.

Why would she lie? And why now?

"Do you two know each other?" Falda asked, appearing on the other side of the table.

Luminous and apparently ageless—Matthew suspected she actually was ageless, based on what he knew of future times—Falda nevertheless ruled the druids with an iron fist. Matthew respected her beyond measure, but he would not want her to suspect Norah of any treachery.

"I believe the lady and I met before she married her husband, and before I entered the nemeton," he said, letting just the right tone of embarrassment colour his voice.

Falda chuckled softly.

"Do I detect a memory of young love? I am glad you found your way to our safe welcome, my daughter. We will help you in any way we can."

Norah murmured her thanks. Falda smiled enigmatically and drifted away, as Matthew gently let out his breath.

"Young love?" Norah asked, a hint of a smile in her voice.

Matthew just shrugged, keeping his expression mild as he reached for his bowl. None of the three of them said another word. But his thoughts were anything but calm.

He shouldn't be defending her. He knew that. Norah was almost certainly lying to him—coolly, deliberately, and with more skill than most people could manage under pressure. And it wasn’t just a harmless lie. She had tried to poison his stepfather once, back when she worked for Edmondson. There were too many unknowns, too many possibilities for danger.

But still, he couldn’t bring himself to dismiss her entirely. There was something in her expression he couldn’t quite read, something that didn’t fit with the careful act she was putting on. And deep down, he didn’t want to believe she was here to sabotage everything. Not her.

He needed answers. He had to find out what she knew about his father. Why she was here. Whether she was still working for Edmondson—or had turned against him.

And all the while, he couldn’t ignore the gnawing fear at the back of his mind. If she made the wrong move, if someone uncovered whatever she was really doing, everything he’d spent years building could fall apart. The nemeton wasn’t just a haven—it was a balance. A delicate one.

And if Norah tipped that balance, the consequences wouldn’t just be disastrous. They’d be irreversible.

Even for him.