Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

“ N o.” That was Brian, his expression shadowed, his handsome face drawn. “The women lost… they’re lost for good.”

“But instead, the magic reaches out through time to find someone to take their place,” Delilah said, a soft smile on her face. “I’m the spitting image of Morag, and I don’t doubt some part of her spirit still lives within me… but I’m not her, any more than Brian’s lovely wife will be the same woman he lost.”

The guardsman nodded agreement, a smile lighting his face though his eyes were still grave.

Amelia frowned. “So — you’re saying I’ve been brought back to replace a woman who died here?”

Delilah nodded cautiously. “That’s — the simple version, yes. I could talk your ear off about theories of fate and destiny, similar stories through folklore across the world, but… yes, that’s the Cliff’s notes version, for sure.”

The modern analogy felt so out of place in this formal dining room that Amelia heard herself laugh again, though her confusion and concern were still the dominant feelings in her chest.

“That’s… pretty awful, I have to say.”

Delilah’s smile faded a little. “You’re right,” she said softly. “I don’t pretend to approve of my ancestor’s choices, though I understand why she made them. It was reckless, and a lot of innocent women paid a terrible price for the risk she took. If it’s any consolation, though — the curse has been broken. I took care of it some years ago, with my ancestor’s help.”

“But I’m still here,” Amelia pointed out.

“Yes, travelers are still arriving regularly,” Delilah agreed. “Clan MacClaran is a large family, and the curse took effect on … well, a dreadful number of young lovers.” She sighed. “No more of these fateful losses will take place — none of supernatural origin, at any rate. But there are still MacClaran men whose loves have not yet made their return.”

Amelia was beginning to read between the lines of this strange prophecy. “So you’re telling me that my great, great, great grandmother or whoever — fell victim to this curse, because she was in love with a member of this family. She died, and hundreds of years later, I got yanked through time to take her place?”

“That’s — more or less the situation, yes,” Delilah said.

“So I’m what, some kind of mail-order bride?” She could feel her skin crawling, and a horrible thought occurred to her. “Wait. Does that — I met some creep last night,” she said rapidly, glancing over her shoulder to make sure that nobody was listening. “He stared at me like he wanted to eat me alive. I was this close to breaking his stupid nose. Is that why he was leering at me like that? Because he knew I’d been brought here to marry him?”

Delilah’s eyes widened. “No,” she said quickly, shaking her head. “No, absolutely not. I think I know the man you’re talking about, and — no. The curse only affected MacClaran men, nobody else. Definitely not the English.”

Amelia felt her pulse settle a little, though she still felt suspicion prickling at her. “Then why was he acting like such a creep?”

Brian cleared his throat at that. “If we’re talking about the same man… you’re not alone in having felt uncomfortable with his attentions, lass. One of Lord Weatherby’s visitors, hmm? He’s been here long enough that every woman in the county is sick to death of him. It’s gotten to the point the Laird’s sent for a diplomat to see if the situation might be resolved somehow.”

“Ideally by him going home to London where he belongs,” the other guard muttered — Kieran, Amelia remembered. “But Weatherby won’t?—”

“Let’s save that for the road,” Delilah said quickly, her blue eyes darting to the corners of the room before returning to the group. “It wouldn’t do to speak out of turn about our gracious host, hm? Amelia — we’ve brought a spare horse on the presumption you know how to ride and you’d be willing to return to the Keep with us. Quarters have already been prepared, and you’ll be an honored guest of the Laird himself for as long as you choose to stay.”

Amelia hesitated. “That’s kind of you,” she said.

Delilah reached across the table to squeeze her hand. “I know how frightening this can all be,” she said softly. “I want you to know — you’ll be safe at the Keep. No matter your resemblance to your ancestor, nobody will put any pressure on you to take her place. Do you understand?”

Amelia nodded, still torn… but she had to admit, she didn’t much like the idea of staying around Weatherby Manor any longer, especially if Lord Taffington was going to be a regular presence here. Sure, she was a little unnerved by the idea that one of these Scottish men was going to think she was his long-lost wife back from the dead … but there was something about Delilah that made her want to trust her. Besides, if there were more than a dozen other women who had experienced the same thing she had, then surely she ought to meet them. How else was she going to figure out how to get back home? Though Delilah did say it was a one way trip. She shook her head; she’d worry about that once she figured out more of what was going on.

She looked back up at Delilah, who was clearly waiting for a response, and nodded slowly. “Yes, I can ride. It’s been a while, but it’s like riding a bike, right?” she replied.

“I’m glad you’re agreeing to come with us and that you can ride,” Delilah said softly, squeezing her hand again.

“I mean, I’ll just be happy to put some distance between myself and Taffington,” Amelia said, grimacing a little. “Though he might be disappointed. He made some decidedly creepy comments about wanting to see me again.”

Delilah chuckled. “As far as I’m concerned, it’s for his own protection. I don’t think you’re the kind of woman that many men mess with.”

If only that were true, Amelia thought sourly. Still, she smiled in agreement and followed Delilah and the two guardsman out into the bright morning sunlight. Lord Weatherby was nowhere to be seen, but Sir Baldric found them quickly, and Delilah filled him in on the situation.

“Take care, Miss Amelia. Lord Weatherby and I wish you a safe journey to the Keep.” Baldric said, kissing the back of her hand

No reference was made to Lord Taffington, to her relief. He didn’t seem like the kind of man who got out of bed early, and she was hopeful they’d be out of here before she had to set eyes on him again.

“Thank you, Sir Baldric. I appreciate your hospitality in such unique circumstances.” Amelia smiled and followed Delilah outside.

She was relieved to see that the horse she’d be riding was tethered to Delilah’s by its bridle. It had been a long time since she’d ridden a horse in any capacity, and though she more or less remembered how to keep her balance on one, she certainly didn’t trust herself to steer. Still, at least she didn’t need to suffer the indignity of being helped on board — the bay mare huffed peacefully enough as Amelia settled onto her back, and before long the four of them were on their way.

It felt strange, riding down the driveway toward the manor’s gates — especially when her most enduring impression of this place still belonged to the contemporary world from which she’d come. Once they were through the gates and into the trees beyond, though, she found herself relaxing. This road was completely unfamiliar, and that, for some reason, was more of a comfort than the eerie not-quite-familiarity of Weatherby’s manor. She was grateful, all things considered, that she hadn’t visited the ruins of the Keep she was being taken to.

Delilah took the opportunity to chat with her a little more as they rode, filling her in on a few details about the other women who’d been brought back in time to make a new life here in medieval Scotland. She really hadn’t been kidding — there was an incredibly wide range of professions and backgrounds among them, from medical professionals and academics all the way through to a professional jewel thief. She still felt utterly disoriented and half-mad, but she still found herself looking forward to meeting some of these strange women. The familiarity of Delilah’s accent was comforting, and she had a feeling she’d be a little more at home with more of those voices around. As pleasant as the Scottish lilt was, it didn’t exactly remind her of home.

Then again, given what her home life had been growing up, maybe a change was a good idea.

The ride was pleasant and the weather warm, and Amelia was surprised when Delilah let her know they were nearly at their destination — she’d been expecting a much more grueling journey. But the twenty mile or so journey had gone by much more quickly than she’d imagined on horseback. Her eyes widened when she saw the undeniable shape of a castle coming into view up ahead.

“That’s home,” Delilah told her, an unmistakable note of reverence in her voice. “That’s Castle MacClaran.”

The building was every bit as impressive up close. They reached the gates after a short ride through the thick trees to where Castle MacClaran had been built on a modest hill, presumably to give a good view of the surrounding countryside. Atop the wall, she could make out half a dozen men, all wearing the same tartan as the two guardsmen riding with them, and the men exchanged cheery greetings in their pleasant brogue before they rode through the open gate into the courtyard. The horses’ hooves clattered against the flagstones beneath their feet, and Delilah took in the sight of the great castle that loomed above her. A great stone behemoth with at least half a dozen stories, judging by what she could make out by the windows… and well protected, too, if the strapping men in armor were anything to go by. She had to remind herself not to stare as her horse paced placidly by a group of men in the courtyard, training with wooden swords.

She climbed down from her horse, waving aside the offer of help as she landed a little heavily on the hay-strewn floor of the stables. Delilah waited a moment for her to get her balance, then took her by the hand and led her through the stables and back out into the courtyard. They paused for a moment out there, enjoying the sunshine. Not for the first time, Amelia glanced uneasily down at her clothing. Baldric had insisted on lending her a cloak for the ride, but it was just about the only part of her outfit that didn’t feel utterly out of place.

“Don’t worry,” Delilah said, as if reading her mind. “You’ll be all settled in no time. This place will feel like home by the end of the week.”

“You promise?” Amelia said drily.

Delilah grinned and squeezed her hand — and with that, her new friend led her up the stairs and into the medieval castle that was about to become her new home.

Well, Amelia thought. She’d come here to get some distance from her old life, hadn’t she? Right now, she couldn’t imagine a more distant place to be.