by Pam Binder
Irene felt an idea bloom to life. She smiled. “Well, if it’s blind man’s bluff they want, then their wish is our command.”
She signaled again. The music got louder. People clapped in time to the melody, increasing the noise level as Ann led them in a Christmas carol. The laughter sounded strained, but Irene hoped she was the only one who would notice.
In the next instant the men appeared in the archway. They’d exchanged their costumes for clothes that were more accurate to the thirteenth century. Irene no longer thought of them as mice. They were big fat rats. They stumbled forward in an intoxicated fog, their eyes too bright and their conversation too loud. Caitlin had assessed their motivations accurately. Their main goal was to participate in the matchmaker’s celebration, and in their haze of ego, they’d convinced themselves that their orchestrated attack on the castle would be rewarded.
They advanced as though they intended to walk past Irene and her friends, but Irene was prepared. Julia and Caitlin stood on either side of Irene; forming a loose semicircle. Acting as one person, they moved forward, preventing the rats from coming any closer.
The man Caitlin had identified as Alex was out in front, while the other two stood on either side of him, forming a triangle. Sam held back, shifting his gaze past Irene. She couldn’t tell if he expected an ambush or if he was anxious to join the party. Regardless, the men were spaced too far apart for their plan to work. They needed to stand closer together.
Irene pasted on a smile and unwound a red silk ribbon from her hair and waved it back and forth in front of her. She felt silly, but her distraction worked. The men shifted toward her. Their gaze followed the path of the ribbon like a tennis ball at a championship match. “Are you ready to play a game of the sisters’ version of blind man’s bluff?”
“About time,” Sam said, easing to the front of the group. He jerked his head toward the men, and they all nodded like bobble-head dolls.
Caitlin cast a flirtatious look at Sam and performed a graceful curtsy. Smiling, she sank slowly to the ground. Sam couldn’t keep his focus off Caitlin, and his comrades were equally as entranced. Mesmerized, the men closed ranks and moved forward as though joined at the hip. When Caitlin rose, she also dangled a ribbon. “We will have to bind your hands, as well.”
Again they nodded, swept up in the moment and the possibilities.
“Please turn around,” Irene said in her best seductress imitation. “We want to blindfold you.”
It was as though her words were infused with magic. The moment she’d finished speaking, all of the men spun around and placed their hands behind them. They were so accommodating, Irene almost felt sorry for them. Almost.
The trap was set. Irene and Caitlin rushed to bind their hands.
Cory whined that the ribbon was too tight, but Sam told him to “man-up.”
When all the men were bound and blindfolded, Irene raised her arm and shouted. “Now.”
Music ceased. The strained conversation and laughter came to an abrupt halt. Everyone moved into position.
Metal scraped against the railing of the balcony as the sisters released the solid panel of chainmail. It rolled down the side, ending inches from the floor. The entrance was sealed as Ann led her group forward.
“What’s that noise?” Sam slurred.
“Part of the game,” Irene shot back. She and Julia grabbed the rope tied to the pillar. Working as a team, they raced around the men as they began binding them together.
Dave squeaked out a protest. Ann shoved a gag in his mouth.
Sam raised his shoulder to the side of his face and managed to ease his blindfold up. “What’s going on? We just wanted to play a game.”
Caitlin reached for a crossbow and leveled her weapon. “Only men and women of honor are allowed in Stirling Castle.”
His eyes widened. “You can’t…”
Irene stuffed a wad of cloth in his mouth. “We just did.”
Irene stepped back and let the others finish securing the men who’d caused so much trouble. She felt like someone had thrown open a window and let in the sun. “We did it.”
Ann looped her arm through Irene’s and smiled. “I can’t wait to tell our men that their damsels in distress caught the bad guys.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
A short time later, Irene was still smiling over Ann’s words as she changed her clothes for the Christmas Eve celebrations. The men had all returned and helped lock up Sam, Cory, Dave, and Alex. When that was done, they confirmed that the neighboring clans were abiding by the truce. Lady Roselyn had more good news. She and her sisters gathered everyone together in the Great Hall and made their announcement.
A wedding was taking place after all. A roar of excitement spread through the Great Hall and reached a fever pitch when she added that everyone needed to change into fresh clothes that fit the festive occasion. After all that had happened, people were ready for a party.
The matchmaker sisters had transformed one of the spare chambers off the Great Hall into a fantasy world of gowns, jewels, and veils. The clothes glowed in vibrant greens, golds, blues, reds, and silver so bright they outshone the stars. Tiaras inlaid with sapphires, emeralds, and diamonds rested on velvet cushions, next to displays of semi-precious stone pendants, necklaces, earrings, and bracelets. It looked as though someone had transported the crown jewels of England to Stirling Castle.
Lady Roselyn informed them that brides seldom wore white, as color was a sign of good fortune. And as an added bonus, for tonight’s celebrations they could forego wearing the thirteenth-century headgear.
Julia exchanged her red gown for one in a shade of blue the same color as Grant’s eyes, while Irene smoothed her hand over the green velvet confection she had chosen that was so beautiful she felt like she was the queen of a small kingdom. She added a pair of emerald earrings and selected a narrow gold crown for her head. It was a little indulgent, but tonight was made for dreams.
Irene twirled in a slow circle, mesmerized by how the fabric caught the candlelight. She felt more alive than she had in years. Her heart swelled. She wouldn’t have met Logan if she hadn’t sought answers to the pendant and her mother’s secrets. Had her mother guessed all along that this could happen?
There was something about this place. It was more than the time travel aspect—it was the whole atmosphere that the matchmaker sisters had created. The distractions of the outside world had melted away, helping bring clarity to the lives of those who had open hearts. The crushing symptoms of Ann’s disease had disappeared. She was clearheaded and laughed often, and Sean said it was as though they were both young again. Julia and Grant seemed to grow more in love by the second, and she and Logan…
She smiled like a child on Christmas morning, then glanced around to see if anyone had noticed her standing in the center of the room, smiling like a fool. But she wasn’t the only one in a holiday mood. Julia was humming and trying on tiaras, and Ann had discarded her black dress for one that reflected the bridal gowns in the thirteenth century, a rich burgundy silk embroidered with gold and silver threads. The fabric shimmered when she walked, as though her dress was lit with tiny lights.
Sean had given her a jewelry box, and she’d opened it and touched the ruby pendant that hung from a gold chain.
“May I help you put it on?” Irene asked. When Ann nodded, Irene lifted the gem from its nesting place. “The necklace is stunning.”
Ann touched the fire-red stone and whispered, “The glowing ruby should adorn those who in warm July are born.” She smiled. “A silly saying, I know, but Sean found it while we were still in school. He loved that rubies were my birthstone.” Ann showed Irene her wedding ring: a princess-cut diamond surrounded by rubies. “His favorite saying was, ‘A person wearing a ruby would never doubt that they are loved.’ ”
Irene finished clasping the necklace and came around to face Ann. “That is one of the most beautiful sayings I’ve ever heard.”
Ann’s laugh was fresh and clear
, like water over a babbling brook. “I think he made it up, but I never said so. In our case, at least the saying fits.” Ann smiled again. “You mother’s locket is lovely.”
Irene touched it protectively. “Fiona called it that, as well, but it’s only a pendant. There aren’t any seams.”
Ann’s smile was gentle. “I recognize the style from my research books. The seams are hidden behind the spokes of the snowflake. If you like, I can show you how it opens.”
Irene nodded slowly as Ann slid the tip of her fingernail into an almost invisible seam. The lid popped open, and Ann’s smile spread like morning sunshine over a meadow. “What a charming couple, and the gentleman is so handsome.”
Julia peered over Irene’s shoulder. “I can see the resemblance. Is he your father?”
Irene felt as though a breeze had swept over her skin. The woman in the picture was her mother, and she was dressed in the same gown as the one in the portrait Logan had discovered. And Ann was right. There was a resemblance between herself and the man in the picture. If this was her father, why hadn’t her mother shown her his picture?
Lady Roselyn peeked her head into the room. “We’re about to begin. Come along, ladies. You don’t want to miss your wedding.”
But Irene and Logan weren’t the bride and groom. Lady Roselyn had declared Sean and Ann were renewing their vows. Sean attributed the miracle of Ann’s healing to the enchantment of Stirling Castle and said that if they left, Ann’s Alzheimer’s would return. They vowed to make every moment count. Logan was his father’s best man, and Ann had asked Irene to be her maid of honor.
Logan announced he’d wanted to make it a double wedding, but his mother had intervened, saying Logan and Irene should start their life in the present. Ann was right, of course, but Irene was surprised by the disappointment that washed over her and mentally took herself to task. After all, she’d just met the man. They hardly knew each other.
A crowd had gathered and was waiting expectantly. On Lady Roselyn’s cue, bagpipes began a traditional wedding song, “Scotland the Brave.” The notes infused the air with the haunting melody of the tragedies and triumphs, sorrows and romance that were the history and strength of Scotland. Ann clasped her hands in joy, and Julia gave her a hug, but Irene felt rooted to the floor. Avoiding what Julia had said about the picture, Irene concentrated on taking slow, even breaths.
The melody vibrated through her, the music a strange exclamation mark to Julia’s words. Is he your father? In a numbing trance, Irene helped Julia fan out the train on Ann’s gown.
“Are you all right?” Julia whispered.
Irene jerked a nod. “Bagpipes. The sound caught me off guard.”
Julia motioned to the pipers as they marched in place waiting for Ann. “Or maybe it was one of those men playing the bagpipes,” she said with a grin. “I didn’t know Logan played.”
Irene snapped her gaze to the group and saw, sure enough, Logan was one of the pipers. He winked, and his eyes crinkled in a smile as Ann took her place. Fiona handed out garlands of graceful strands of wheat dusted with gold and crystal-like snowflakes made from sheets of silver foil. She directed Irene, Julia, and Caitlin to stand behind Ann. Once everyone was in place, the procession turned in the direction of the castle’s interior Chapel Royal.
Laying her bundle of golden wheat in the crux of her arm, Irene stepped in behind Ann. Irene’s thoughts flew about her in a thousand different directions at the same time, even as she concentrated on the music, on taking one step at a time. Was Julia right? Was the picture in the locket of her father? But even as she revisited the question, she knew the answer. The portrait she’d seen of her mother proved she was at Stirling Castle and had participated in the sisters’ tour. The picture in the locket proved that her mother had met someone. Was the man Connor? The man her mother had mentioned in her diary? Why hadn’t her mother stayed? Was her father still alive? Why had her mother kept it a secret?
Irene stumbled.
Logan was at her side, his hand on her arm, as the procession weaved past her. His expression was a vision of concern.
“I’m fine,” Irene mumbled.
“No, you’re not.”
“Please. Go on without me,” Irene said.
He gazed toward the procession as it turned down a corridor. “One less piper won’t be missed.”
“But you’re the best man. Your parents…”
“They will understand. Tell me.”
Her eyes blurred as she covered the locket with her hand. “I think my father was here, and that my mother and he…”
He wiped a tear from her face and smiled. “They found love, if only for a short time. That’s very romantic.”
“But my sister and I never knew him. Why didn’t she tell us? Was he part of this century? Why didn’t she stay?”
Logan shifted the weight of his bagpipes and threaded his arm around her waist, drawing her to him. His kiss was a feather-soft promise. “Your parents had their reasons for keeping their secrets. Maybe that’s why your mother only gave you her diary after she’d died. Maybe she was afraid she’d be judged for falling in love. I believe it’s enough to know that they loved each other. Don’t you?”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Was it enough?
The wedding ceremony was a blur. Irene was swept along over the waves of celebration. The merrymaking of the reception was in full swing, and Irene felt like she was now coming up for air. She’d kept hold of the locket, afraid to let it go.
Lady Roselyn drew in beside her. “You discovered the secret in your mother’s locket. I’d always wondered. From the date on the portrait, she would have participated in a tour with either my mother or my aunt. But that much we already suspected.”
The bright notes of harps, lutes, and fiddles rang in Irene’s ears. “But you knew she was here.”
Lady Roselyn folded her hands at her waist. “After our last meeting, my sisters and I researched our records. Your mother fell in love with someone from this century. It happens sometimes. Your mother would have had the choice to stay, of course. It would have been impossible, however, for a man from the thirteenth century to leave.”
Irene fought back the well of tears that gathered in her eyes. “Is he alive?”
Lady Roselyn placed her hand on Irene’s arm. “Our records indicated your mother was here several times. The matchmakers believed it was because she was always searching for her soulmate. We now believe she had already found him. According to the accounts, she spent a lot of time with a man named Connor.”
Irene cleared her throat. “My mother spoke of Connor in her diary.”
Lady Roselyn nodded and continued. “The two of them were so careful no one guessed. There was a notation of an attack on the castle, much like the one we experienced. It didn’t go as planned. There were casualties. After that attack there is no record of your mother returning.”
The last words hung in the air and caught on the soft notes of the harp as the melody faded. Irene’s eyes brimmed with hot tears. “Connor didn’t make it.”
Lady Roselyn squeezed Irene’s shoulder, confirming Irene’s statement.
One of the performers took his place in the center of the Great Hall, and his deep baritone voice captured everyone’s attention. The melody seeped into Irene, filling her with a sense of peace.
There was no denying that the picture in the locket was her father. The resemblance in his smile and the shape of his eyes was unmistakable. Her mother had kept his identity a secret. She’d met and fallen in love with a man from the past. Irene managed to smile. Before she arrived here that idea would have sounded ridiculous. Now it just sounded…well, romantic.
Irene fingered the locket as her vision blurred. Her mother had given her and her twin sister pictures of their father in their matching lockets. Parting gifts. There was also the entry in her mother’s diary, an entry that Irene had committed to memory. Until today, it had seemed borderline crazy. Now it made complete sense.
/> Dear Diary,
My daughters would never believe me if I told them who, or rather when, their father and I met. They will have to experience the magical place of Stirling Castle for themselves. Seeing is believing, as the old cliché goes. If there is anything I’d want them to remember when they discover my secret, it is that Connor and I embraced love. There are no regrets. I wish the same for my daughters. May they find a love that will transform their lives. A love that will stand the test of time.
Irene had read those words more than once, but for the first time it seemed like her mother was saying them to her directly. A message from mother to daughter and friend to friend. All the puzzle pieces were falling into place.
Perhaps the journey to Stirling Castle wasn’t as much about her mother as it was about discovering a way to learn how to move on. Irene might never learn all the secrets her mother had guarded, but maybe her mother had had her reasons. Not all secrets were meant to be told.
From across the Great Hall, Logan stood gazing over the crowd. Dressed in a red tartan plaid, he scanned the wedding guests again, and she knew. She knew he was looking for her. Her heart beat faster. She knew she was smiling. Knew she was moving toward him as though nudged from behind.
His smile when he focused on her made her feel as though she were the only one in the room. She’d known him for hours, not even days or weeks, and yet… Was that how her mother had felt when she’d met Connor?
Irene’s face warmed as Logan strode through the Great Hall as though it were empty and they were the only ones present. A few in the dancing circle glanced toward him. Those in his direct path stepped aside to let him pass.
And then he was standing in front of her. Waiting.
The tempo of the balladeer rose as others joined their voices to his. When Logan reached her side she felt out of breath. “We know so little about each other,” she said.
“We’ll figure it out together.” He paused and took her hand in his. “You should always wear green. The color matches your eyes.”
