PENETRATE (The Portals of Time Book 1) Read Free Page A

through the air, lifting shivers along her skin. They affected her words as she stumbled through them.
    “Ain...slee! You have to...uh. No! You must ask for Ainslee today! You just have to!”
    “I need. A drink,” he replied.
    “Aren’t you listening?”
    He groaned again.
    “Today! When you visit MacAffrey, you have to ask for Ainslee! You ken?”
    “Ken?” he asked.
    She pushed up, gained her knees beside him, and pulled at her captured hand. He released it.
    “You’ve an appointment with the MacAffrey laird this afternoon! You’re asking for his daughter’s hand! Make certain to ask for Ainslee!”
    “All right. That’s it. Where’s Eric?”
    He opened his eyes and settled his penetrating gaze on her. Ainslee’s heart stopped and then the darn thing felt like it swelled. Each beat almost pained. She’d forgotten he had stunning eyes. Gray-toned. Mercurial. It was akin to looking at hammered silver. This time when she swallowed, it was more of a gulp.
    “Well?” he asked.
    “I do na’ ken...anyone of that name.”
    He frowned, put a hand to his wound, lifted her linen and then stared at it uncomprehendingly. His nose pinched up, as if in distaste. Ainslee looked from the cloth to him. Back at her cloth. It was a scrap of old linen, frayed at the edges. Despite continual washing and letting it bleach dry in bright sunlight, it had been stained before she’d used it on him. Now it was streaked with blood from his wound. But if she’d known she’d be proffering her handkerchief to him, she’d have brought one of Lileth’s lace-bedecked ones.
    “What? Is this?”
    He had a strange way of breaking sentences, pausing distinctly between the words. It was already difficult to keep his gaze. With his voice and the way he spoke, it was even more so.
    “My...handkerchief?” she offered.
    He moved the cloth toward her, holding it with his forefinger and thumb as if that was too much contact. She took it, and despite her best effort, her hand visibly trembled as she tucked it back into her pocket. This was not going well. He wasn’t listening. Or he didn’t understand. And it had taken every bit of bravery she possessed to accost him this morn. She glanced toward him. Looked away. Struggled against the instant sting of tears again.
    This was truly odd. Completely unlike her. She was known for stoicism. She rarely cried. The punishment was too severe.
    “Okay. Level with me. I crashed-landed. Right?”
    Ainslee watched the view blur into a wash of thistle amid heather, the color a mass of purple, green, and the dark brown of peat. She blinked rapidly and somehow conquered the urge to sob.
    “Speak up, girl.”
    “I do na’ ken your meaning,” she whispered.
    “Oh! For the love of—! Look. The one thing I detest is wasting time.”
    “Exactly! And that’s why you have to—!”
    “Don’t start the ‘ask for Ainslee’ spiel again. Just. Don’t. Oh! My head.”
    He’d tried to lift his head. Dropped it back to the sod. She watched him put a hand to his forehead and use a gingerly-looking motion to tap on his wound. He lifted his fingers away. Stared at them for a moment. Looked over at her.
    “What. The hell. Happened to me?”
    “You fell off your horse.”
    “Impossible.”
    “He reared. You fell. Your groom has gone to fetch him. I canna’ stay! But first say you’ll ask for Ainslee when you visit the MacAffrey laird. You must!” 
    “Young woman. Please. Make some sense.”
    “You’ve an appointment today! ’Tis part of the Straith will! You have no choice! You have to ask for the hand of a MacAffrey lass. Everyone expects you to ask for Lileth. But you can na’! You just can na’!”
    “I have to do what?”
    “You can na’ ask for Lileth. Please? I’m begging you!”
    She’d never been this emotional. Ever. Ainslee’s eyes filled with stupid tears again. It was stupid. Irrational. She blinked and struggled, and was rewarded finally as his image cleared.
    “She’ll kill