Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty-One

“ F rom what I can tell, this is a colossal waste of time, energy, and money,” Derrick told the women, who’d been subjected to his rants for the last half hour. “Don’t take offense Gwen, but you have to agree, not one bit of progress has been made in the endeavor to ‘free’ Tristan McRainey.” He made air quotes before continuing. “It’s time to accept reality. The ghost, if there ever was one, is gone.”

“I don’t agree,” Edith began, “something is detaining Laird McRainey, something unavoidable, otherwise he’d have appeared by now.” She gave Gwen a weak smile. “Please don’t let Derrick ruin your appetite dear. Eat.”

Gwen tried to smile back at Edith, but it had been a horrible time since returning from Georgia. After two days of Tristan not appearing, she was beginning to wonder if she’d made a mistake by leaving, breaking some sort of tie between them. Sabrina still believed it held and so did Edith, but Derrick’s rantings were increasingly grating on her already frayed nerves.

“I think something is wrong. Otherwise he’d have appeared by now.” She pierced a piece of roast with her fork and brought it to her mouth. What if Tristan was in trouble, suffering, hurt, in Meliot’s clutches? She put the food back down, appetite lost.

“We’ll wait,” Sabrina assured her. She addressed Derrick. “My sister is very good at what she does. If she says Tristan McRainey is real, then he is. I don’t see how the outcome of this will affect you; whether he’s real or not, your life will continue as usual. You’re wealthy enough that you can build a new resort from scratch, are you not?”

“Sabrina!” Gwen exclaimed, contrite at her sister’s directness.

“No, that’s quite alright,” Derrick replied, his angry gaze locked on Sabrina. “You are correct, Miss Lockhart, I am wealthy in my own right. If I believed my ancestor were truly a trapped man, then of course I’d want him to be freed from this curse. If that’s what’s happening. What I won’t do is stand by idly and allow my aunt to spend her money on an unnecessary pursuit.”

“No charge,” Gwen retorted, now losing her temper with the insolent man. “I won’t accept one red cent for freeing Tristan.”

Derrick raised an eyebrow. “Tristan? Are you on a first-name basis with the ghost?”

“Enough,” Edith interrupted, in a soft, stern voice. “Please let’s retire to the sitting room for a glass of brandy. I think we need it.”

Once in the sitting room, Derrick poured them all a drink while Edith spoke. “The matter of Miss Lockhart’s employment is not up for discussion. I am of sound mind and will decide when and if we will cease in this pursuit. I believe you are swayed by your desire to take over the estate and transform it into that distasteful public attraction of yours.” She rolled her eyes at Derrick, who reddened but remained silent. “I am not required to hand over management of the estate until my eighty-fifth birthday, which isn’t for another year, dear nephew. Until the last day of June, next year, I will remain steadfast in my decision to do anything I can to free Tristan McRainey.”

Gwen didn’t dare argue, but she’d made up her mind. She was not accepting any payment for working on Tristan’s release. It was now a personal quest.

Once Derrick left, Gwen got up and poured the women a second drink. “I meant what I said Edith. I don’t require payment of any kind. I want to do this.”

Edith reached for her glass and smiled at her. “In love, are you?”

Sabrina let out a loud laugh. Gwen’s face grew hot.

“Why is everyone saying that?” She sputtered, not enjoying that Edith joined in Sabrina’s laughter. “I like him. Of course he’s very handsome—who wouldn’t find him attractive…” She gave up and fell on the chair shaking her head; they weren’t listening to her anyway.

Edith sobered first. “I’m sorry dear, but we have to find humor where we can. I am worried about Tristan, too. What could possibly be detaining him?”

“Tristan McRainey needs yer help, lass,” a deep voice shocked them.

They were struck silent as the man, who’d suddenly appeared, moved toward them. To say the man was a beautiful creature was a total and utter understatement. The golden warrior stood before them, his heavily lashed, honey-colored eyes scanning their faces, waiting for some sort of reply. Golden waves framed his face and fell to his wide shoulders. Dressed in soft leather britches and a belted white linen shirt with a huge sword on his hip, he embodied every woman’s dream of what a warrior should look like. Muscles rippled on his huge frame as he moved to get a closer look at her. Despite his large size, he was as graceful as he was gorgeous. Until he tripped on the carpet and almost fell face first on top of her. She held her arms up, glad the huge man had managed to stop his fall.

Gwen finally was able to speak. “You must be Gavin Campbell.”

He nodded, the golden waves of his hair fell forward, and he brushed his hair back, an impatient gesture. “I came to fetch ye, Gwyneth. You must come to the alter-world with me.”

Gwen gasped. “What happened to Tristan?”

Gavin’s eyes flickered to Sabrina. He hesitated for a second before returning his attention to Gwen. “Meliot has taken him. Ye must come and help Padraig. Only by combining your magic, can we stand a chance against Meliot.”

“Well I’m not sure about this,” Edith began, standing up to the large man. She didn’t seem as affected by his looks. “Look here, Campbell, let’s discuss this before you go off with Gwen. How do we know you are who you say.” She finished by pushing a bony finger at his bicep. “Prove who you are.”

The Scot gave Edith an incredulous look before he began untying the laces to the front of his shirt.

“Oh, this is going to be good,” Sabrina whispered at Gwen, taking a sip of her brandy, her eyes glued to the Scot’s chest. “Take it off, baby.”

“Be quiet, Sabrina,” Gwen hissed at her sister, who gave her a wicked smile in response.

“I believe this should prove who I am,” Gavin told them, pulling out a talisman that matched Tristan’s, except this one had a heart stamped on it, not a clover.

“Well, that was a letdown,” Sabrina muttered, leaning forward to study the talisman. Gwen noticed that Gavin tensed, leaning away from her sister. Interesting.

Gwen reached for the talisman; she had to stand on her toes to see it more closely since it hung from a leather strap around Gavin’s neck. His golden eyes studied her while he waited for her to decide.

“How are you able to come here?” Gwen asked, “I thought each of you could only appear at your ancestral homes.”

He shrugged, “I never tried to come here until today. In the past, I have not been successful in appearing anywhere but Castle Campbell. I visited McRainey lands once before the enchantment. Tristan and I are childhood friends. Perhaps that is why I can.”

“Let me get a jacket and the book.” Gwen dashed out of the room. She wasn’t surprised when Sabrina followed her.

“I know what you’re going to say, but I have to go.” She ran into her bedroom and pulled a heavy denim jacket from her closet. She sat on the bed and pulled on hiking boots as Sabrina shoved the spell book into a knapsack.

She eyed her sister who rushed about and continued shoving items into the bag. “Sabrina what all are you stuffing into that bag?”

“I’m not going to try to convince you not to go. It’s useless. Not sure what you may need, so I’m adding some energy bars, Chap Stick, tampons, and sanitizer wipes. Also, a couple pairs of clean panties, two pairs of socks and lastly this extra t-shirt.” Sabrina rolled the shirt and slid it into the deceptively small bag.

Grabbing the bag from her sister, Gwen hurried back to the great room. No telling how long Gavin could remain before being pulled back to the alter-world.

Once again, she was struck silent when she saw Gavin. As much as she preferred Tristan, it was almost impossible not to gawk at the man.

Sabrina nudged Gwen’s shoulder with her own. “Yeah, I know. I would love to do a photo shoot. This guy is beyond words. I see a lot of great-looking men on a regular basis, but never someone like him. He just takes your breath away.” She groaned. “Oh the money he could make with that face.”

Gavin came over after nodding in deference to Edith. “Are ye ready to go?” He gave Sabrina a curious look, his handsome face frowning at how intently she watched him. No doubt she was picturing him in many different settings, her photographer’s brain humming. “Are ye an enchantress as well?”

“Oh no, I mean, well, I haven’t practiced. I help Gwen do research.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why?”

“Perhaps you can help another one of us leave the enchantment.” He placed his hand on her shoulder and cocked his head to the side. “I do not feel anything; perhaps, I am not the knight you can help.”

Sabrina’s lips parted, her breathing coming in short pants. She shoved his hand away. “Yeah, well I don’t feel anything either.”

Gavin turned to Gwen, “You must be prepared. As soon as we arrive, Padraig will be waiting for us. He will take you to the keep.”

“What about you?” Gwen asked, as he wrapped his arms around her. He didn’t reply.

“Close yer eyes, Gwyneth.”

She peeked from under his arm at her sister. “See you soon.”

At once, the air seemed to change, and she felt as if she were on a merry-go-round. A merry-go-round on steroids, spinning so fast she could only see blurs of different colors flash past. Her stomach heaved and she gagged, shutting her eyes and clutching desperately onto Gavin’s large body.

She felt his warm breath in her ear as he spoke. “I told ye to keep yer eyes closed.”

Solid ground finally. They slammed to a stop so fast that Gwen barely was able to stumble a couple of steps before she threw up. She bent over, holding on to a tree waiting for the dizziness to stop. A moan caught her attention, Gavin writhed on the ground, his teeth clenched, tears pouring down his face. He seemed to be in agony. A dark-haired male bent over him placing his hands on both shoulders.

She shuddered. He looked to be dying. “What’s happening to him?”

The dark-haired man, who had to be Niall, the healer, didn’t reply. He looked over at a younger male who stood by her and nodded. The young male smiled at her. “He’ll be all right in a few secs, but we have to go.” He held his hand out to her. “I’m Padraig.”

As soon as Gwen touched his hand, they moved through space again. This time she kept her eyes tightly shut.

“You can open your eyes now,” Padraig told her.

She’d pictured the knights’ keep many times when Tristan had described it to her. The large stone fortress loomed before them. Behind it, the sky was purple, with two large suns shining down, casting violet and pinkish rays. Dashing inside, they entered a large room. The room was simply furnished, with pieces fashioned from earlier times, probably from their time. A large table surrounded by six beautifully carved chairs filled the center of the room. Against one wall, an enormous fireplace was flanked by two bookcases overspilling with books. Across from the fireplace stood a large sideboard with only a chess set on top. There were no wall decorations, the only warmth provided by animal skins strewn about.

A sleek male sat at the table, his cool eyes studying her. Padraig nodded towards him. “That’s Liam.”

“Hello.” Gwen didn’t move, still waiting for her uneasy stomach to settle.

“Hello Gwyneth. Welcome.” Liam’s accent reminded her he was English.

Liam jumped to his feet when Niall appeared, an unconscious Gavin over his shoulder. Although Niall was also a large man, he wasn’t as large as Gavin. It impressed her, how easily he carried Gavin out of the room and up a stairway, Liam following right behind them.