"That's why the dining room had that smell," Hamish said.
"I think the thing must've been practically airtight or none of you could've tolerated it," I said. "But it must be why the chime changed over time as the cavity filled up."
"Mam found it eventually," Hamish said. "She mentioned it the year after I left to join the Sharks. She blamed me for that." He glared at his brothers, who both looked at their Mam. Despite the fact they were over thirty years old, they looked terrified at what she might do with this information. Mam's face remained impassive, as if she'd heard far worse—and I imagined that with seven children, she probably had.
One spider had made its way to Hamish's nose, and was threatening to enter a nostril, when Hamish made a little noise and then said quietly, "Soph."
I stood, pretending to work on the knot nearest Hamish's chest, and made sure to let my hair swish across his face, clearing the spiders from it. I had two more knots to untie as I knelt back down after shaking out my hair violently. I didn't have Hamish's aversion, but I wasn't fond of spiders in my locks.
"Almost done," I assured him.
I finished the last one, pulling the rope free, and wondered how we might get all the creepy crawly things from Hamish's body. Hamish, however, had clearly been thinking of exactly that as he sat there patiently. The second he was free, he leapt to his feet and sprinted off the deck to the pool area at the back of the lodge. One second later we heard a loud splash and then a pained cry—it was January, after all, and the water was undoubtedly frigid.
A few minutes later, Hamish reappeared, shivering and dripping, but with a gallant smile on his face. "Ya did good," he told me, and reached his arms out for me, pulling me into a freezing wet hug.
"So did you," I told him, joy making me warm even though Hamish's wet arms were making me shiver.
One feat had been accomplished and there were two to go. But for the rest of today, we could relax and celebrate.
I was beginning to believe this was nothing but a formality, but what I didn't realize was that the feats were not the thing standing between me and Hamish finally being together. There was something else. Something my stepfather was just waiting to tell me.
Chapter 108
In Crap Lake Without a Boat
Hamish
I've never liked spiders. Found that out when I was a kid and Charlie trapped me in the stone cellar under the kitchen one time because I'd broken his favorite toy truck.
"It wasn't a truck, it was a model," he still insisted.
When you're six, every truck that isn't life sized is a potential toy. And I still say he shouldn't have left it on top of his dresser. That was practically an invitation in my book.
He'd been furious, and he'd chased me down into the cold dark stone cellar, knowing I instinctively feared being alone in the dark. And then he'd sat atop the door while I screamed and pounded, and then eventually huddled in a corner, tears streaming down my cheeks, waiting for Mam to come home and find me. While I'd sat, I'd managed to find a candle to light, and I'd been sorry once the flickering light had illuminated the corners. Spiders called the cellar their home, and though they probably paid me no mind at all, I imagined every one of them creeping toward me in the dark, ready to weave me into their terrifying webs.
Charlie knew. And I had no doubt he'd been fundamental in planning the first feat. If it hadn't been for Sophie's sure fingers and her calming voice, patience would not have been easy for me as they crept along my limbs, hiding in my beard and running over every exposed bit of skin they could find. But we'd done it, and when we all met for drinks that afternoon, I was pleased with us both, and one step closer to making Sophie my bride.
I held her close to me, the feat having tightened our bond even more, and she grinned up at me as the people we loved talked and moved around us.
"Proud of you both," Mam said, perched on a stool with a couple fingers of Durnish whisky in her glass.
Dane had somehow managed to talk his way behind the bar, and he was schooling the bartender on the finer points of Durnish liquor, pouring generous glasses for everyone from the first batch of the whisky he and James were producing.
Mr. Peabody was not present that afternoon, but Mr. James sat near Mam, quiet again as he watched us celebrate.
"My feat of patience was definitely not as awful as yours," Marigold was telling us, Oscar at her side.
"Not for you, at least," he piped up.
"What was it?" Sophie asked her.
"They put me in a little boat in the center of Loch Du Lac," she said, her grin widening. "It was winter, so it was cold and blustery. And the boat had a hole."
"Oh my God," Sophie breathed.
"That's not the hard part," Oscar said, grinning at Marigold. "The hard part was the part when I had to rescue her, but I don't swim."
"So you had another boat?" Sophie asked.
He shook his head. "They gave me floaties. On me arms." He held his arms up to show us.
I couldn't help laughing. I wished I'd seen it.
"Like a toddler?" Sophie asked, and Marigold nodded, trying not to laugh.
"You ever tried to save your drowning wife, doggy paddling through a freezing lake with floaties on your arms?"
I assumed it was a rhetorical question.
"Well, it's damned near impossible, and it takes fecking forever. By the time I got to her, the boat was gone, completely sunk."
Sophie sucked in a breath. "So you failed the feat?"
Marigold shook her head. "I swam us back. It wasn't the way the feat was supposed to end, but the patience part ended up being a test of the judges' patience. Most of the people who were supposed to be watching got bored when Oscar took so bloody long to reach me. I'm a strong swimmer, so I rescued him instead. He was frozen by the time he got to me. They accepted it as a win. And they spent the rest of the weekend treating us both for hypothermia."
I shook my head, and Sophie said, "Have any of you stopped to consider that the feats are a little bit ridiculous? Why do we do them?"
Charlie had been standing nearby, and he popped in now. "Traditionally, they tested useful things. A Durnish couple would be faced with any number of trials throughout their marriage. Between the harsh weather, the difficult work of farming the brutal land, and the fact there were no hospitals in Durnland until the twentieth century, marriage wasn't something to be entered into lightly. A Durnish couple needed to work together, to solve problems together, to support one another."
"That's how all marriages should work," Marigold said.
"But it wasn't just an idea back then," Charlie said. "And even though we still do the feats now to uphold tradition, I think they still show the true merit of a match."
Maybe. I wasn't convinced. Still, though some Durns were forgoing tradition in favor of more modern wedding activities, I loved the things that made my homeland unique, and the feats were certainly that.
"Well," said Mr. James suddenly, standing. I noticed he was lifting a glass full of amber liquid—the first real drink I'd seen him hold. "Let's have a toast, shall we?"
I couldn't have explained why my gut set to churning, but I sensed something less than celebratory in his words.
"To my stepdaughter Sophie."
Cheers went up all around.
"I'm pleased to see you marrying up," he went on. "Into Durnland's royal family. I'm also pleased that you were willing to accept Hamish's proposal, rushed though it must have been." He looked around, grinning with a glint of something malicious in his eye.
Sophie narrowed her eyes at me in confusion, but the smile on her mouth stayed put.
"It can't have been easy to realize that Hamish's proposal probably had more to do with holding onto his birthright than it did with his undying love to you. It's a silly ultimatum really," Mr. James said, pretending to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all as my heart grew hard and worry sprouted inside my chest. "To have to marry before you turn thirty. It's like Hamish might turn back i
nto a pumpkin, I guess. Like he would rather rush into a marriage than risk becoming just a regular man again—someone like me." Mr. James looked around as if hoping to find someone to chuckle with him over his joke, and finding no one, he threw back the drink, sitting back down.
Sophie's eyes were wide and round and she turned to me with confusion swirling inside them. "You have to be married before you're thirty?" She asked, understanding dawning.
"That's true, lass," I said, keeping my voice low, hoping she would see easily that we would have ended up together either way. "But when I found you—"
"So this—" she waved her arms around to indicate all of us, my whole family. "This was never about us, really. You came to find me so you could hold your place in line for the throne?" Her voice became a thread, a whisper of a whisper. She stared at me for a long minute, appearing not to even breathe as the idea turned in her brain, looking for a comfortable place to burrow in and fester.
"No, Sophie. That was a lucky coincidence, I—"
"A coincidence?" Her cheeks colored and tears rushed into her eyes.
I reached a hand and took hers, but she snapped it away. "No, that isn't what I meant, lass. I found out you were here at the same time Charlie reminded me of the ultimatum. It seemed like fate, really."
"You never bothered looking for me until you were worried about losing your place in line," she said, her eyes narrowing. "I can't believe you'd do this, that you would do this to me." She stepped away from me and turned, weaving between Charlie and Marigold and then darting out of the room.
"Sophie, no," I called after her. I needed to explain. I hadn't gone about it right at all. She couldn't leave, believing I'd only sought her out to keep my place in line.
Mam was already after her, slipping off her chair and walking from the room. I wanted to follow, but hoped maybe Mam could do what I thought maybe I couldn't right now.
"It was never about that," I said to Mr. James across the bar. "Not at all."
"Convenient though, wasn't it? To find her just in a nick of time."
It wasn't worth explaining to him. Finding Sophie just as I approached the ridiculous deadline had felt like fate, like things were supposed to be this way. If I hadn't found her, I knew with certainty I would have let my birthright go.
I'd give up everything I had before I ever considered marrying anyone else. But I had to make sure she knew it.
Chapter 109
This Uber Sux
Sophie
Of course.
Of course there would be some reason for Hamish to come looking for me, to propose. Some reason besides the one I wanted to believe. But it was ridiculous to think that loving one another as children could turn into a love that would stand the trials of adulthood, a love that would make sense as you built your own lives. There was a difference between building forts on the highland plains and building real lives together, lives that could withstand storms and complications and perfect San Diego women and...stepfathers.
And Hamish must have known it all along.
He must have decided that it would be easier somehow, finding and convincing his old pal Sophie to marry him, than it would be to meet and court a new woman here. An American who would no doubt question the things the throne would demand—like the Feats. But silly Sophie, well I'm just a simple Durnish girl. I was the low-hanging fruit, the woman easiest to fool into helping him keep his ridiculous claim on the throne. And if it didn't last long? Well, he didn't need me forever. Just long enough to sign whatever ridiculous documentation some ancient Durnish court had come up with hundreds of years ago to officially secure his claim.
It wasn't as if Hamish would ever be king.
And for God's sake, if I couldn't even perceive a man's real intentions, I could certainly never be queen.
I stormed back into my room, ordering an Uber the second I was behind the solid door. I didn't give myself time to settle into the deception, to let the full extent of what Hamish had led me to believe work through me. There'd be time for that later. For now, I needed to escape before some member of Hamish's family tried to convince me of more things that clearly weren't true.
I'd almost gotten everything shoved back into my suitcase when the knock came at the door. I checked my phone, and the Uber was still fifteen minutes out.
I sighed and went to the door, pulling it open to admit Mam and Marigold.
"Sophie," Mam said immediately, "Please listen."
Marigold took my arm and led me to the edge of the bed, sitting beside me and taking my hand. She stared at me with a worried expression, her onyx hair hanging in straight sheets to her shoulders as her dark eyes regarded me. My heart pulled inside me. I'd only just gotten them back, it said, but I couldn't listen to the little girl who'd called these women family. That was years ago. I had my own life now.
Mam pulled a chair in front of me and sat, bending down to force me to look into her sweet lined face. "Please don't leave, Sophie."
I pushed out a sharp sigh of frustration. I didn't want to talk. Didn't want to be convinced. This made three times I'd let Hamish break my heart, and I needed to escape, to begin to try to salvage the pieces.
"I need to go," I whispered. "I can't stay here, I can't think, I—"
"What's there to consider, girl?" Mam asked me, her voice taking a sharper edge. "My son loves you. Has since he was running around in short pants, and I don't give a good goddamn what your stepfather said in there. That man lives to stir the pot, and this is one pot I won't have him fussing over."
"Hamish does love you, Sophie. There's never been anyone else for him."
Maybe I should have listened to them, but I couldn't. There was too much doubt welling up inside me. At the end of everything, I was nothing at all. Nothing like what Hamish should want, nothing like those sexy blond girls I'd seen him with all those years before. One of those girls would have jumped at the chance in line for a crown, and to spend time with Hamish. And how could I compare? "No," I told them, pulling my hand free from Mari's. "It's lovely to see you again, but this was all a mistake. I'm not the girl Hamish needs, and I think he knows it. I'm just a simple girl from a poor family in a tiny country no one's ever heard of. I guess that made you all believe I'd be easy to fool, or maybe I'd jump at the chance to finally marry into the family I spent my whole life wishing I was part of. But I've got a life here. I've made something of that poor sad little girl, and I need to be true to her. She deserves someone to really love her, not just someone who needs her to help him keep his claim on some ring of metal on a rock in the middle of the Durnish Sea!" Tears streamed from my eyes as I finished, and my mind whirled like a dark tornado, wrecking every clear thought in its path.
Mari and Mam both stood to flank me as I picked up my suitcase. "Sophie, no," Mam said.
"I'll always be poor little Sophie to all of you," I told them, fully crying now as my heart tried to wedge itself into my throat. "And I might not be royalty, but I deserve someone who'll want me for something more than a quick check in the box."
"Hamish doesn't—" Mari began.
I opened the door to my room. "I'm done believing in this fairytale," I told them. "I should have listened to Madame Anastasia's warnings right off the bat."
I left them behind me, confusedly looking at one another, and pulled my suitcase down the hall. I stepped out the big wooden doors of the hotel without looking around to see who else might be waiting to convince me to stay. I leapt into the big white car waiting out front, finally letting the tears start for real.
"Can I help you, Miss?" The man behind the wheel turned to look at me as I sobbed.
"Can we just go please?" I asked him. I needed to leave. I needed to go back to the life I'd made and forget this ever happened.
"Well..." he dropped his eyes and then gave me another confused look. Men hated it when women cried. I knew this, but I needed the man to drive.
"Put the car in gear please and let's go. I can't help the crying, but you don't need t
o worry. I'm fine." I told him, refusing to look out the window and doing my best to wish us on our way.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of pointless hesitation, the man pulled away from the hotel and I felt my shoulders relax slightly. He approached the freeway onramp and glanced back at me as if needing some advice.
"South?" I sniffled.
He guided the big van in the right direction and I felt a bit of the tension in my shoulders relax. As I settled in for the ride, I glanced around, surprised to see the Uber was actually some kind of delivery van, and there were stacks of linens all around me. In fact, I was in the only actual seat in the back, the rest of the van was stuffed with towels and sheets folded neatly and pushed into tight plastic bundles.
"So you do some kind of linen delivery too?" I asked the driver after we'd gotten a sufficient distance from Hamish and the hotel. I leaned forward to look up at the dashboard. The usual navigation device was missing, and that was the first moment when I realized I may have made an error.
"That's really all I do," the man said, sounding apologetic. "I mean, usually."
My spine pulled me straighter as I realized that this van was most likely not the ride I'd called for. "So, um, you don't drive for Uber?"
The man glanced back at me with a smile, and I realized he was really just a kid, maybe twenty at best, with messy blond waves on his head and a few pimples dotting his cheeks. "No ma'am. My dad—this is his business—he says he can keep me busy driving around if that's what I want. I've thought about it, though."
"Oh," I said, unsure what to do now. I didn't want to go back to the hotel, where there would no doubt be a delegation of Durns standing around outside the hotel by now, discussing my hasty departure.
"Where are we headed, miss?" He asked, turning to smile at me again.
"I thought you were the car I ordered," I said, wishing I'd paid better attention outside the hotel. "I'm so sorry. I was upset, and—"
Mr. Match: The Boxed Set Page 54
