Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

T he first few days went by in what felt like a waking dream. As much as she kept trying to jolt herself into believing it, Amelia kept struggling with the persistent feelings of unreality. She’d be distracted in the middle of a conversation, or halfway across a room — surely not, she’d hear herself thinking, surely all of this was just some fascinating dream… and then she’d pull herself back into reality and have to apologize to whoever it was she’d just tuned out completely.

At least everyone was absolutely lovely about it. She’d been a little worried at first, as Delilah introduced her to the Laird and what seemed like a small army of cousins and kin. The MacClaran clan were hardy and joyful. The men were handsome and strapping, even the older members of the clan carried themselves with a strength of purpose that made everyone in the room take notice. There was a kind of charisma that couldn’t be taught, and this family had it. And on top of that, they were kind to her. Laird Donal put her at her ease almost immediately, stumbling over her words as she was when she met him and his sharp-eyed wife, Fiona, whose North American accent revealed her to be yet another one of the time travelers.

“I know you’re going through the strangest time of your life,” Laird Donal said kindly. “But rest assured, you’re in the best of company. Your fellow travelers will help you settle in, and you’ll be at home here before you know it.”

“They certainly helped me,” Fiona agreed with a firm nod. “And that was back when there were only a couple of us.”

There were a great deal more than that now, Amelia was to learn. That first day, Delilah made sure to shelter her a little, not wanting to overwhelm her with too many introductions. But once she’d settled into the charming, rustic little room she’d been allocated as her own, and Delilah had taught her the basics of how to dress herself in the dresses the women here wore, she began to make the acquaintance of the other time travelers who’d settled at the Keep. There was Fiona, of course, the Laird’s wife, who introduced her to Marianne and Karin. Marianne had been a telephone psychic in her old life, something that made Amelia laugh — Karin was an epidemiologist who now regularly made use of her skills to control disease outbreaks and similar in the village and surrounding areas. The following day she lunched with Brianna, a retired cop from Chicago, who spent much of the meal exchanging barbs with Scarlet — who Amelia eventually learned was the jewel thief that Delilah had referred to the previous day. And on her third day at the Keep, she met Audrina and Cora. like a few of the other women, Audrina and Cora had known each other in their twenty-first century lives — they’d been best friends, in fact, working at the same hospital as a trauma nurse and midwife, respectively. Audrina was the first of the travelers to have arrived, and Amelia was a little humbled by her story. She was struggling enough to settle in, and she had all this help and support from the women who’d arrived before her… she could hardly imagine what it would have been like to find herself here without the faintest idea of where she was or how she’d gotten here. She and Cora had been here for nearly twenty some odd years now, she was told.

In between these meetings with her fellow time travelers, who were all understandably curious to hear about the latest news from the twenty-first century, she did her best to get to know the locals a little, too. The Keep was staffed and inhabited not only by members of the MacClaran family, but by locals from the surrounding area, too — all of whom had nothing but good things to say about the strange women who’d arrived here, though not all knew they were from the future. Many thought they were from various parts of England to account for their strange American accents.

Delilah had warned her that only the main staff, Sir Balderic, a few of his men, and Weatherby were aware of their time traveling because of the time period. It made sense when she explained about the witch hunters that had been through the area over the last twenty plus years.

Rumors about the women here spread often because it seemed that quite a few of her fellow travelers had performed incredible feats during their time here — finding lost children, resolving serious disputes, even helping manage and control disease outbreaks. Many of the women had brought anachronistic improvements to the Keep, too — it seemed Fiona was the main culprit here, but there was also a suspiciously advanced hospital on the ground floor of the castle, and the MacClarans had a growing reputation for being the people to reach out to with stubborn or mysterious ailments.

“Doesn’t that cause problems? With the witch hunters and such I mean?” Amelia asked over breakfast one morning, her fifth day in Scotland. She was feeling especially bold that morning — she’d managed to get her dress on without any help at all, and the Keep was feeling a little less intimidating than it had. “I mean, all of us bringing back this knowledge from the future… doesn’t it cause, you know, time paradoxes? And don’t those who don’t know about us think we’re performing some sort of voodoo?”

Delilah shrugged. “We worry about that from time to time,” she agreed casually. “But it doesn’t seem to have caused any issues… not the kind of stuff that happens in science fiction, anyway. But you’re right, the major worry is accusations of witchcraft.”

“Is it a big worry?” Amelia looked around, wondering if she needed to be careful of things she said or did here.

Delilah nodded. “We’re safe here in the Keep,” she said, sounding cheerful enough despite the bleak subject matter. “But outside of our courtyard, it’s best to be very careful about what you talk about. Audrina and Cora both fell victim to some pretty nasty accusations when they first arrived here, and it doesn’t take much to get rumors started, especially in the village. I mean, my ancestor and Fiona’s were both witches, but it wasn’t actual evidence of magic that caused the rumors that got my ancestor killed. Being an intelligent woman in the wrong place at the wrong time, that’s usually all it takes.”

“What about Fiona’s?”

“Fiona’s was murdered by witch hunters, but her magic was really strong and Fiona actual arrived within minutes of her ancestor’s death. I wasn’t here for it, but I’m told it was a tumultuous time.”

“Okay, I’ll be careful,” Amelia promised, feeling a sudden weight in her belly. “Hell, I’ll just stay in the castle until I’m eighty. There’s enough to explore.”

It was true — she was having a grand time exploring the winding corridors and stairways of Castle MacClaran. On her first day, Delilah had shown her around a little, making a point of taking her to the roof to admire the view of the surrounding area. That view remained a highlight, but she was still enjoying wandering the hallways, stumbling upon all kinds of odd little nooks and crannies, statues, paintings, tapestries… she’d always loved wandering around in museums, and now she lived in one.

She’d planned to spend most of her morning wandering the Keep again, but something else caught her attention — first in the form of a couple of whispering servants, who invited her into their little huddle when they saw that she’d overheard them. Pleased to be taken into their confidence, Amelia was surprised to learn that a diplomat would be arriving later that day — the diplomat, so the young servant said, who was going to get rid of ‘that awful man’ once and for all.

“Which awful man is that?” Amelia asked, feeling like she already knew the answer.

“Lord Taffington,” the servant said promptly, her bright face twisting into a grimace. “He’s a guest of Lord Weatherby’s, and he’s disgusting. Tries it on with any girl he sees, no matter how young. Why, my sister’s engaged to be wed, and he still had his hands all over her.”

“He’s rotten, that one,” the other girl said softly. “Best keep clear of him if you can, Miss. If he corners you alone there’s no telling what he might get up to.”

“Hamish’ll see to it,” the other servant said firmly. “Hamish’ll have him sent packing in a minute, that’s what everyone’s saying.”

And so it was that Amelia found herself drifting toward the courtyard later that afternoon, when the distant sound of horses arriving caught her attention. Sure enough, she wasn’t alone in her curiosity — there were several dozen people present to greet the diplomat, who was riding through the gate on a proud white horse, looking for all the world like something out of a fairytale. It was impossible not to notice how handsome he was. He was younger than she’d expected a diplomat to be — in his late thirties, by her estimation, with light auburn hair and a pair of piercing blue eyes that made her heart flutter. From what she’d heard from the servants, he’d been in Edinburgh for the last few years, negotiating with the King on behalf of the MacClarans and their allied clans. Amelia had been more focused on trying to hide her utter ignorance about the political situation in medieval Scotland than she had been in the living history lesson that had been available to her, and she made a mental note to ask more questions in future.

Laird Donal was there to greet the diplomat, and when the man swung down lightly from his horse, she saw that he was the same height as his cousin — a broad man, as powerful as any of the other MacClaran men she’d met so far. Idly, she found herself wondering if he was the husband of any of the time traveling women here — he seemed more or less the right age to have been afflicted by the curse. She wanted to ask someone, but something made her bite her tongue against the question — there were more than a few young women in the crowd who were looking up at the diplomat with stars in their eyes, and she didn’t want to be lumped in with that lovestruck assortment.

Perhaps she’d meet him later, she decided. The idea appealed to her, she had to admit, and not just because he was so easy on the eyes — she was curious to know what a diplomat’s work looked like in a time like this. She was also very interested to hear about how he intended to get rid of the unpleasant presence of Lord Taffington. Perhaps she could help, she thought, warming to the idea. Perhaps her testimony about the Lord’s creepy advances could help get him sent back home to London with his tail between his legs…

A prickle ran down her spine, the uneasy feeling of being watched, and when she looked up, Amelia realized with a start that she was right. Hamish MacClaran was staring right at her, those vivid blue eyes trained on hers, and the shock that ran through her was quickly followed by another at the expression on his face.

“Amy?” she heard him say, his voice cracking in the middle of the syllable as though unable to bear the weight of it. “It can’t be.”