by Pam Binder
Bridget crossed her arms over her chest. “We can drop the charade. They already know things are not as they seem. Last time I checked, most tours do not include their guests being wounded with flaming arrows. But aside from the fact Irene knows her mother was here, I found Irene and Logan by the gatehouse door. They saw the men responsible for the attack, the same men we locked in the dungeon but who managed to escape. How did that happen? Did someone help them?”
“Sam helped them,” Logan interrupted.
Both Bridget and Lady Roselyn snapped their attention toward him.
“He wanted to lock us in one of the dungeon cells, but we declined. I’m not a fan of cramped places, and Irene doesn’t like spiders. You people really take your reenactments seriously around here. The attack on the castle looked real.”
“It was real,” Bridget said.
Lady Roselyn gripped her glasses so tightly they snapped. “I’ll wager the villagers in Brigadoon never had this problem. There was always a wedding. No drama. No attacks. No…”
“A man was killed trying to escape Brigadoon. That was pretty dramatic, sister dear,” Bridget said.
Logan leaned in toward Irene and whispered. “What am I missing?”
Irene let out a shuddering breath. Julia had tried to tell her that their tour group had traveled to the thirteenth century. It had seemed crazy then. Now, not so much. And how was Brigadoon involved? That was in a made-up story where time stood still. A shiver chased over her skin.
When Logan repeated his question, she whispered. “Have you ever heard about an enchanted place called Brigadoon?”
Before he could answer, Lady Roselyn raised her voice and addressed Bridget.
“This is all your sister and Liam’s fault. I told them we needed to access a different door through time. We’ve been returning to this same century for too long. We have more doors, more options, and we should start using them. We should also make a rule that under no circumstances should we allow our guests to use the same tour over and over. That is what gets us into messes like this in the first place.”
“Stop trying to shift the blame,” Bridget said. “I’m not sure why Fiona keeps insisting on this century, but Liam is the reason the attack is contained. If it hadn’t been for him, the walls would have been breached. But the men who are responsible for the attack have to be captured.”
Both sisters leaned toward each other and started arguing back and forth until they sounded like a swarm of angry bees. The candle flames in the chandelier overhead quivered in response, and the flames in the hearth flickered as though they too felt the rise in tension in the room.
“Are they saying what I think they’re saying?” Logan whispered. “ ‘Doors through time’ just took this reenactment to a whole new level. Cool. These sisters have a vivid imagination. But what is this Brigadoon place they keep talking about?”
Irene had no idea how to spring time travel on him; she was having a hard enough time reconciling it herself. She concentrated on the Brigadoon topic. Keeping her voice low, she said, “It was the name of a movie in the 1960s, one of my mother’s favorites. Brigadoon was a story about a village priest who had protected his people from the evils of the outside world by his prayers and sacrifice. The villagers would sleep for one hundred years, and when they awoke only a day would have passed. My mother watched the movie so many times she knew the songs and dialogue by heart. I think Stirling Castle is under a similar enchantment.”
Irene stared at the candle flames in the chandelier until her vision blurred. If her mother had taken this tour, that had to be why she was so obsessed with the movie. Or was there another reason?
The muscles along Logan’s arm tightened. “Well, my favorite movie growing up was Star Wars because my father and I saw it together at least a dozen times. After we leave Scotland, we should hop on a spaceship to the planet Tatooine. You know, the home planet of Luke Skywalker, where…”
She leaned her head on his shoulder. She knew he was trying to lighten the mood again, something she was learning to appreciate about him. “I know about Tatooine, and I also know how crazy this sounds.”
He kissed her on the forehead. “Good. At least I’m not the only one freaking out. A lot of my friends believe Atlantis was a real place, and that a race of alien space travelers built the giant heads on Easter Island. All that stuff seems tame compared to an enchanted-castle theory, but at the end of the day, all this is just make believe.”
“But what if it isn’t?” Irene said. “I mean, you said it yourself. We might never know things like why the heads on Easter Island are larger than life size or if Atlantis existed.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled as his mouth twitched in a smile. “Cool. The Death Star is real.”
Irene fought back a grin as she elbowed him gently. “And you said I was the one with the hidden nerd flag. I suppose you attend comic book conventions.”
“When we get back to reality, I’ll show you my costume.”
“You’re joking?”
He lifted an eyebrow.
Chairs scraped over the floor as the sisters stood. Lady Roselyn remained silent for a moment, as though making sure she had everyone’s attention, and then took a deep breath. “We have decided that you both deserve to know the truth. All of it.”
Chapter Thirty
A smoke-filled haze settled over the windowless chamber, adding to the gloom. Irene wound her arms around her waist, feeling as though the walls were closing in. Whatever was going on had Lady Roselyn and Bridget worried. When Julia first announced that they really had dropped into the thirteenth century, Irene had dismissed it as the way Julia was coping with her heartache. Irene should have pressed Julia for more details when she had the chance.
Lady Roselyn stuffed her hands into her bell-shaped sleeves and raised her chin. “You are correct. The men who escaped our dungeon are the same troublemakers Logan confronted in the Matchmaker Café. The fact that Sam is helping them is worrisome, as well. He will have to be dealt with. They all will. But that’s not the worst of it. When the wedding was delayed, the enchantment that protects Stirling Castle began to unravel. I think that is the reason it was so easy for Sam and his friends to convince the warring clans to abandon their truce and attack us. I honestly don’t know what will happen next.” She sank down, holding her head in her hands. “I need chocolate.”
Logan leaned forward. “Okay, this might sound obvious, but why can’t we just walk out of here? In case you missed it, my mother’s not well. This place seems to agree with her for the moment, and for that my father and I are eternally grateful. But it can’t last. She needs to be under a doctor’s care.”
Irene felt Logan’s growing concern. He was correct. Right now his mother looked fine. That would change as the disease progressed. Ann would lose the ability to care for herself. Even though her family would do whatever was necessary, it wouldn’t be enough. Irene wanted to stay at the castle until she learned why this place was so important to her mother. Watching Logan and knowing what he must be going through, it no longer mattered. They had to return.
“I agree with Logan. We need to go back as soon as possible.”
“I wish it were that simple,” Lady Roselyn said. “We can’t leave. None of us can. When we traveled back in time, everyone on the tour became part of the story and therefore subject to its rules. The most important rule is that no one from our century can leave until the stroke of midnight and then only after there has been a wedding. Without a wedding…”
Logan stood, toppling over his chair. It crashed to the ground as he narrowed his gaze. “Hold on. Rewind. What do you mean, we traveled back in time? You’re joking, right? That’s just a story line. It can’t be real.”
“Please sit down.”
“Not a chance. Explain.”
Bridget slid a glance toward Lady Roselyn, who gave a slight nod.
“We’re not your standard-issue matchmakers,” Lady Roselyn said. “Our methods are a little uno
rthodox, but right now the bigger issue is that we’re running out of time to fix things.”
Logan’s face looked ashen as he righted his chair and sat down. Irene slipped her hand into his and felt him squeeze her fingers gently. Somehow it didn’t feel as scary when he was beside her. She’d been faced earlier with the possibility that they were in the thirteenth century, so she’d had time to process the idea. Logan was trying to make the leap in a matter of minutes.
“Running out of time. That’s an understatement,” Bridget said under her breath as she rubbed her sister’s shoulders.
Lady Roselyn patted Bridget’s hand, their heated discussion forgotten. “We believe it’s not enough to provide a romantic setting for couples to meet. That only checks off the physical attraction box. The real test for a couple’s compatibility occurs when they are out of their comfort zone or in the face of conflict. How a person deals with conflict tells their true nature. Most couples don’t really know the person they’ve married until they are faced with a conflict: the birth of a child, loss of a job, or death of a loved one. We provide both a romantic location and the added twist of conflict. In the case of the Stirling Castle experience, we stage a mock attack to test couples’ reactions to danger and how they work together to overcome that danger. Our system is not without its challenges or failures, but we are proud of our success rates.”
“We have this little arrangement,” Bridget continued when Lady Roselyn nodded toward her. “We have permission to use Stirling’s portal or door to the past, as long as we respect its enchanted rules, and one of those rules is that a wedding must take place on Christmas Eve.”
Lady Roselyn pushed to her feet. “And since this enchantment requires that a wedding take place on Christmas Eve, only then will the doors open and allow us to travel back to our own time. We had it all planned. Angus and Caitlin were to get married. As you are aware, they now are not speaking to each other. We approached Julia and Grant, and although they have made the transition from friends to a potential couple, they feel their relationship is still too new.” Lady Roselyn drew herself up to her full height, looking more like Queen Elizabeth the First than a friendly tour guide. “We’re desperate. We’d like you to take their place. We want you to get married.”
Irene and Logan stood up so fast their heads bumped together.
“Marriage,” Irene said under her breath, gingerly pressing on the sore spot.
She bent over, holding her stomach. “I can’t breathe.”
Logan stood beside her as though frozen in place as he slowly rubbed her back.
In the background, Lady Roselyn was talking on as though she’d just announced the next course at a banquet. “You two are made for each other. I’ve rarely seen a couple more in love with each other at first sight than you two. Marriage is the next logical step.”
“The next logical step,” Irene managed through gulps of air, “would be for Logan and me to get to know each other better.”
Logan pushed back his hair with both hands. “Agreed. But more to the point,” he said to Lady Roselyn, “marriage is an important step. I should know. I was married before. Messy divorce. Hurt feelings on both sides. Not pretty. There has to be another way.”
Irene felt the room spin. She shut her eyes as she tried to regain her balance. Logan was divorced. He was not perfect after all. Okay, don’t overreact. Divorce happened all the time. No need to panic. Guys left. Cheated…
“Are you all right?” he said.
“Why did you get a divorce?”
“We were married for only a short time before we realized it was a mistake.”
“Children?”
Logan grinned. “She called me a child. Does that count?”
“That’s not an answer. And this isn’t funny.”
Lady Roselyn approached Irene as though she were a small animal that could frighten easily. “Everything will work out. You will have the choice of several lovely gowns. The wedding feast is prepared. Guests have arrived. The musicians are in place. The Great Hall is decorated.”
The wedding planner list continued, but Irene blanked out for a minute, holding onto the sides of the chair.
Bridget cleared her throat, drawing Irene’s attention. “Give it up, Roselyn. This isn’t going to work. Unlike us and the matchmakers in our family, people like Irene and Logan can choose whom to marry. We can’t force them. It must be their decision. And don’t forget that if Fiona suspects that they’re not ready, she’ll…”
“We are beyond doing what Fiona thinks is best. Besides, I suspect she would be perfectly fine staying here. There’s something going on with her that I can’t quite put my finger on. The bottom line is that we need a wedding, and Irene and Logan are made for each other.”
Irene shook her head, repeating what they had said about Julia and Grant. “It’s too soon.”
Bridget put her hand on Irene’s shoulder. “As much as it pains me to say it, my sister is right. At least consider it. There’s more to the enchantment than a wedding requirement. It’s also the reason Logan’s mother looks healthy again. It protects those here from disease for as long as they stay. But if the balance is not restored, I’m not sure if even that aspect of the enchantment is still possible.”
“You must wed,” Lady Roselyn interrupted. “Otherwise we might not…I mean we may all be…that is to say…”
“We’ll be stuck here,” Bridget finished. “As in permanent residents of the thirteenth century.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Irene had convinced the sisters that everyone deserved to know their lives might change, and the word was sent out to gather the tour group in a secluded area of the Great Hall. Lady Roselyn and Bridget were nearby, trying to bring a sense of normalcy to the castle after the attack. Irene had chosen a secluded corner where she, Logan, and Fiona could discuss what was happening and how best to bring up the castle’s similarity to Brigadoon. While everyone trailed in, it gave her a chance to process the whole marriage question. This was a big step, no matter the circumstances. Did she even want to get married?
After she’d dumped her ex-fiancé, she’d lived in a date-free zone. Not because she was afraid of getting hurt again but because she was concentrating on her career. At least that was her story. Even Irene knew the arguments she’d made were weak. She’d considered getting a dog or cat to keep her company. She had settled on a plant.
Coming on this trip was the first real vacation she’d had in over a year, but she’d almost bailed. Her sister must have sensed her reluctance and had appeared on her doorstep the morning of the flight. Irene was fearless in the courtroom and a strong advocate for her clients. She trusted her instincts in everything—except when it came to relationships. She had known from the start that she and her ex were not right for each other. Had that been the real reason she’d dated him? Because she’d known all along that they wouldn’t last?
Irene glanced at Logan. He had joined his parents when they arrived, but when she met his gaze he gave her a wink. A flutter of butterflies took off in her stomach, and she knew she was grinning like a girl with her first crush. Being around him felt like the first day of spring after a long cold winter.
She kept that feeling wrapped around her as the last of the tour group arrived. Sam was the only one unaccounted for, and soon everyone would know the reason.
Lady Roselyn and Bridget said that Fiona was the best person to explain what was happening, under these circumstances. Irene wasn’t so sure that was correct, or if the two sisters felt it was time their younger sibling had a taste of what they were going through.
Fiona was off to the side. She had removed the sword she’d worn when the castle was under attack, but she’d kept the dagger. Julia, Grant, and Logan were standing by the window, while his parents were seated and holding hands. Ann and Sean looked like they were in a world of their own, one filled with warm autumn days and moon-kissed nights. They looked so happy, Irene felt guilty that the matchmakers were about to sp
ring this news on them.
Logan joined her, kissing her gently on the cheek. “Sam didn’t come. My dad said no one has seen him.”
“Did you tell your dad what happened in the dungeon?”
“He said he wasn’t surprised. He’d thought there was something off about the guy.”
“Your dad is a great judge of character.”
Logan glanced toward his father. He and Logan’s mother were huddled together in deep conversation. “He knows people. He really likes you, by the way.”
Grant and Julia had angled over to Logan and Irene. Grant peered outside through the shuttered window. “It’s quiet out there.”
Julia threaded her arm through Grant’s. “Do you think we’re safe?”
“We’re safe for the time being,” Fiona announced, drawing everyone’s attention.
Her words ignited a buzz of conversation. The tension spoke volumes. It was clear a few of them already doubted the attack had been staged.
Fiona spoke above the din of anxious voices. “Thank you for coming. We thought you all should know what is going on.”
“But I thought Lady Roselyn already told us what happened,” Sean said, putting his arm around Ann’s shoulders. “The attack was part of the performance.”
Grant grunted. “I’ve attended a lot of medieval festivals, and I guarantee that there was nothing scripted about the attack on the castle. The men who attacked us were out for our blood. Scripted performance, my cherry red…”
Julia elbowed him in the ribs. “Grant’s colorful comment aside, I agree with him. People in the castle are on edge. The attack took everyone by surprise. There was an attack when I was here before, that much about what Lady Roselyn said was true. This one was different, however. Last time, no one was injured, and the arrows weren’t on fire; they just bounced harmlessly against the outer walls. Afterward, the sisters brought out tankards of sweet cider and we toasted our victory.”
Grant nodded. “That confirms the stories Sam told us he’d learned from the friends he met online.” Grant looked over his shoulder. “Sam should have been here by now.”
