"You get strong legs, living here," she said brightly.
Melanie nodded, glancing back at the spiral staircase and noticing how much further it climbed up into the heights of the castle. Did it go all the way to the roof? she wondered. Something to explore later… later, when her body wasn't aching and sore from having spent a chunk of the night in the lake and another chunk sleeping on the floor by the fire… though there was still adrenaline coursing through her, she was very much looking forward to the bed she'd been promised.
The servant led her to a little door at the end of the hallway, sketched a bobbing little bow, then turned and headed down the hallway after a promise that hot water for a bath was on its way. Of course, she thought, feeling disoriented. There wouldn't be running water in a medieval castle… why had she been imagining a little en suite with a great big ceramic bath, steam rising from the water's surface? No running water… that meant no hot showers, she thought, biting her lip as she opened the door to the room. No hot showers, ever again.
She'd have to find her way back. This wasn't a life she could live. But for now, she'd make do with what they brought her.
The room was pleasant enough — it had a homemade kind of feeling to it, the quilt on the bed thick and warm and clearly hand-made. She pressed a hand down onto the mattress and found it pleasantly soft, especially in comparison to the bedroll she'd spent the night on, and she hesitated, tempted to climb in immediately, but wanting to wait until she'd had a chance to bathe a little first. No sense filling the bed with grime from the lake straight away… and it wasn't long before the servant returned, two more women behind her carrying a large basin between them, full of gently steaming water. The first servant had an armful of cloth which she set down on the bed, while the others set the basin on the wooden table that sat opposite her little bed.
"We'll leave you to it," the first servant said with a smile. "You must be exhausted, with how far you've traveled."
Did everyone know what was going on except her? Melanie wondered. It seemed that even the domestic staff had a good sense of where she was from and how she'd gotten here… still, at least she didn't have to worry about lying, or coming up with some period-appropriate explanation for her strange accent and odd clothing. Speaking of which — she turned to the bundle of fabric the servant had brought once the door clicked shut behind them, and her eyes widened. There was a soft cotton night dress for sleeping — but beneath it was what was unmistakably a gown like the ones the other women had been wearing. It looked a lot less complex than theirs, though there were still far more ties and eyelets than the simple summer dresses she was used to wearing, which rarely got more complex than a zipper at the side or on the back… she set the gown aside, resolving to cross that bridge when she came to it. First things first — a bath.
The window in her stone wall looked out over the Loch, and a quick glance through it reassured her that nobody would be peeking at her unless they could fly, or something. So, she undressed quickly, shivering a little at the cool air on her skin. She felt grimy and gross from the swim, from the way her clothes had dried against her skin, and it felt great to sponge herself down with hot water and soap. It was surprisingly not that difficult to bathe standing up, using the water in the basin sparingly to wash, then rinse herself, and by the time she was done, she slipped the soft cotton nightgown over her head with a sigh of relief. She felt clean and dry — and absolutely ready for a nap.
She'd settled for just rinsing her hair, not especially wanting to use soap to wash it, but it felt fine for now — she'd ask one of the other women about shampoo at some point. For now, she clambered into bed, grinning with sensual delight as she discovered that the mattress was just as soft as she'd been expecting, though a little less smooth than her mattress at home. The lumps weren't unpleasant, just different. But after all, it wasn't as though they had machines to make mattresses here, did they? Like everything else in this room, the bed had been made by manpower alone. It was strange to think of that, and she rested her head against the pillow with her mind racing.
She was really here, wasn't she? This wasn't some dream or hallucination… this had really happened. Was this a common occurrence? Had hundreds of people before her been whisked off through time and space, abandoned in the past to live out their days? Surely it wasn't something unique to this time and place… how many missing persons reports had been filed about people who weren't missing at all, but instead vanished into the past? It was mind-boggling to think about… and as her thoughts raced and seethed in her mind, she felt her body sinking deeper and deeper into the mattress, a delicious warmth creeping over her as she fell into a deep, restful sleep.
The dreams still plagued her, though. Dreams of those shining figures… this time, her eyes were wide open, and she was straining to see them better, to make out some features, something that would make them seem more human than alien… but they were nothing but light. She might as well have been trying to make out eyes or a nose on the face of the moon, or the sun… the light was too bright, too searing to see around, though somehow she knew that the light wasn't doing any damage to her eyes, that these creatures weren't going to harm her.
There was a strange sense of… friendliness, from them. She got the strongest sense that they were looking at her with affection, with fondness, even with a little trepidation — as though they didn't understand her especially well, the same way she didn't understand them. But at least she knew she was in safe hands, as the glowing figures moved and shifted around her, for all the world as though they were dancing with her. One even reached down and took her hand, surprisingly warm and soft, and when she looked up into its face out of habit, expecting to see nothing but light, her eyes widened in shock. This one wasn't just light — this one had a face she recognized, illuminated brightly though it was by the bright folk that surrounded them. It was Aelfred, his hand in hers… and as they smiled at each other, she felt him gather her close, his hand on her waist as they dropped into a dance. How long had that music been playing? It didn't matter… they whirled and danced together across an impossibly broad expanse, a space she couldn't conceptualize, let alone estimate the size of…
And then she was awake, the broad smile still on her face as she realized that she wasn't on some cosmic dance floor but was instead still tucked up safe and sound in her bed. The light in the room had changed since she'd fallen asleep, and as she sat up blearily, she realized the room was full of a warm, orange-toned light that suggested it was sunset. She must have slept all afternoon, she realized with a pang of embarrassment… then again, like Anna had said, she'd had a hell of a day. A bit of rest was probably exactly what she needed.
Her body felt sore as she slid out of bed, and she wrinkled her nose at the familiar feeling — she always got that feeling after she tried a new workout. Muscle soreness. It would probably hang around for a day or two. That'd serve her right for her marathon swimming session, she supposed as she climbed out of bed. Her clothing was still sitting on the table in a neat pile, but the prospect of putting those dirty clothes back on for dinner made her wrinkle her nose. So, she turned her eyes to the gown.
It took longer than she was proud of to figure out how to put the thing on. There were more layers than she was expecting — extra skirts, layers under layers that fitted into each other in strange and unpredictable ways. It took a few false starts before she felt confident even in the order in which she was donning the pieces. But eventually, she looked down at herself with some satisfaction. She was doing it. She was wearing a medieval gown. It looked pretty good on her, she had to admit — there was a polished mirror on the inside of the doors of the wardrobe that stood in the corner, and she gave herself a thorough once-over. The narrow waistline of the dress, accentuated by the ties she'd had to awkwardly tie behind her, flattered her figure and displayed her rather full bosom in a fetching way. And the skirts were fun, too, despite how tricky they'd been to get on. She liked the way they hid her figure f
rom the waist down, leaving the shape of her legs and butt to the imagination. She had a suspicion it was going to take a little while before she was comfortable moving in the gown — her experimental laps around the room had felt very strange, with the skirts swishing and moving in unfamiliar ways — but overall, she liked the look.
You can do this, Melanie told herself firmly. This is easy. You can adjust here. You might even be able to make some kind of life here… while you're figuring out how to get home, of course. After all, there was no rush. She was in the past, right? Even if it took her months to get back home, she'd just be dropped back a few minutes after she'd left. Nobody but her would even know she'd gone.
With a smile, Melanie turned from the mirror and headed for the door. It was time to meet the rest of these time travelling women she'd been hearing so much about.
Chapter 11
The spiral staircases were an interesting trip in the full skirts of the gown she was wearing. Melanie found herself clutching the handrail hard, a little disoriented by not being able to see where she was putting her feet. How did the servants rush up and down these stairs so quickly? It boggled the mind… still, she got the hang of feeling out each new step as she headed down, and it wasn't long before she was back in the entrance hall. This time, she took a moment to look around, to study the tapestries and paintings and even a few ornate sets of plate armor that stood proudly in the hall, decorating it.
It was busier, now, than it had been earlier — men and women were moving through the hallway toward the dining hall, often in small groups, talking and laughing with one another. She got a few looks, curiosity evident on people's faces, but now that she was dressed more appropriately, the looks seemed less suspicious and more welcoming. Well, that was something, at least. She'd be one of the family in no time. But she was curious, too, about the people moving past her. Many of them were wearing what she could only describe as robes — long fabric that scraped the ground and made them seem very sinister and austere to her. But she was too shy to approach anyone with questions — at least, she would be until her curiosity grew too strong to bear.
It was the smell that drew her into the dining hall, in the end — the unmistakable smell of roasting meat, setting her stomach to growling. She hadn't eaten much at lunch, in the end — a few bites of stew and a bread roll or two. She'd been too busy listening to what the women were telling her… and she suspected tonight might hold the same temptation. No, tonight she was gorging herself. After all, she had a lot of energy to replace, didn't she?
She headed for the same high table but blinked when she found it crowded with strangers — a couple of men she recognized, Donal and Malcolm at the head of the table, but many more than she didn't. And sure enough, there were a handful of unfamiliar women there, too… though she felt Anna slip an arm through hers and lead her up to the table, a smile on her face.
"The gown looks great," she told her softly, looking critically at her handiwork. "Did the servants help you dress?"
"No, I just — trial and error, you know," she said, shrugging her shoulders.
Anna grinned. "You did great. Just — " She spun her around and fiddled with one of the ties that Melanie hadn't been completely sure of. "There. All fixed."
"Thanks," Melanie said with a quick grin. "Thought that one felt wrong."
"You get used to it," Nancy said, sidling up on her other side. "Are you excited to meet everyone?"
Sure enough, she recognized Elena among the group of unfamiliar women — there were four faces she didn't recognize, all peering up at her with curious smiles on their faces as they waited for her to join them. Feeling oddly like a celebrity, or something, she took the offered seat between Elena and a blonde woman with a bright smile.
"Here they all are," Elena said drily, gesturing to the strangers. "Melanie, I'd like you to meet Kay, Helen, Karen and Julia."
There was a chorus of welcomes — and then the women turned to their meals. Sure enough, there was a hearty plate set in front of her — roast meat swimming in gravy, and a collection of roasted winter vegetables that set her mouth to watering. One or two she didn't recognize — the woman at her side, who Elena had introduced as Kay, nodded at them.
"Parsnips," she explained with a twinkle in her eye. "I hadn't had one before I came here, either, but they're great."
The American accent was reassuring. "Where are you from, originally?"
"Wyoming," Kay said with a smile. "But I'm from here, now, I guess. My husband Liam is Malcolm's older brother and the stablemaster here at the Keep." She nodded up the table, where a broad man with long hair was deep in conversation with Malcolm.
Melanie nodded — the family resemblance was unmistakable.
"I was a vet, back home. What did you do?"
"Private investigation," she said, feeling a little embarrassed. Being a vet, or a doctor, or even a soldier… those were useful jobs, here. She could see how those women had fit into this society easily. What was she supposed to do here? But the dark-haired woman sitting across from her leaned forward suddenly, her eyes alight.
"Another PI!" she said brightly.
This was Helen, Melanie remembered — hadn't Elena told her a little about her earlier?
"I ran my own firm in West Virginia," she explained. "Started out at the FBI but burned out on the politics."
"Wow," Melanie said — that kind of pedigree was rare in her line of work.
"What about you?"
"Oh, I don't have any special qualifications." She shrugged. "Just experience, I guess, and my license. Family business." She felt a pang of grief, thinking of her father. Did he miss her? she wondered. No, she told herself firmly. He couldn't miss her because she wasn't missing yet. She hadn't even been born yet. Neither had he. Neither had anyone she'd ever met… a wave of dizziness crashed over her again and she hesitated, lowering her fork. But Helen looked sympathetic.
"It's a lot to take in, I know," she said softly. "But you're not alone, okay? We're all here for you. That goes for Clan Grant as well. They're good people," she said with a smile. "Who haven't you met yet?"
"I'm Julia," the woman sitting next to Helen said brightly. She had a head full of bright red curls that were restrained by a headband, and the smile on her face was infectious. "Mine was the least useful job you could possibly imagine."
Less useful than a private investigator? Melanie wondered. "Yeah?"
"I was a wildlife photographer."
She couldn't help but laugh. "Oh, no."
"Oh, yes. And my camera didn't survive the trip," she said, shaking her head. "Even if it had been waterproof, it's not like there are many places around here to get the images developed…"
"I guess not." Melanie grinned. She hesitated before asking her next question, not sure whether it was considered gauche to talk about… but she couldn't resist the curiosity that was bubbling in her chest. "How… how did you get here?"
"Same way as you, through the Burgh at the bottom of the Loch," Julia said matter-of-factly. Then her eyes gleamed. "Did you mean how did we die?"
"Is that… macabre of me to be interested in?"
"I don't think so." That came from the woman sitting next to Kay — this was Karen, she remembered. She was soft-spoken and thoughtful, and she smiled a little when she spoke. "I think it's very natural, to be interested in death — our own death, the deaths of others. It was death that brought us here, after all. I lost my life to an epidemic," she said, shaking her head. "Probably pretty predictable, in my old line of work."
"You were a doctor, right?"
"An epidemiologist," she said with a smile. "I studied the spread of infectious diseases. The one I was studying… well, it was more infectious than most, I suppose, despite all our precautions. I'd been in Tunisia," she said softly, clearly thinking back to that time. "All I remember is drifting off to sleep one night in the grip of a nasty fever… and then I was here. For the longest time I thought I was hallucinating."
"We
all did," Kay agreed, shaking her head. "It was a car crash that got me. Some idiot in the oncoming lane swerved into mine when I was driving home after delivering a calf one night. I swerved off the road and straight into a lake… then woke up in a very different one," she added with a grin.
"Did they find our — our bodies, do you think?" Melanie wanted to know, fascinated by this subject even as it sent chills running down her spine. "I mean… I'd hate to think I just disappeared."
"We're not sure," Helen said simply, shaking her head. "I ended up in a river, too. I'd just collared a guy who was stalking his ex-wife, but I think he'd gotten to my car first, cut the brake lines. Ran right off the side of a mountain and into a creek bed. Hope he died screaming," she added, a flash of grim satisfaction on her face. "I feel pretty good about surviving, albeit in a pretty weird way."
Car wrecks and epidemics… it made her own death feel strangely commonplace. Gun violence wasn't exactly rare where she came from, was it? She looked at Julia, curious about what could have befallen a nature photographer. "What happened to you?" she asked, tilting her head. "If you don't mind my asking. Trampled by a wild elephant you were photographing?"
Julia laughed, her bright red curls bouncing as she threw her head back. "Oh, I wish it was something that exciting," she admitted, shaking her head. "No, I was doing a shoot in the Adirondacks at the peak of hunting season. I was walking back to my car when I heard a gunshot. Guess it got me, because the next thing I knew, I was here."
"That's what happened to me," Melanie said, eyes widening. "I just heard the shot, felt myself fly across the room, then… boom. Underwater."
"Someone shot you?"
"A client," she explained, shaking her head ruefully. "It was stupid to go into the room — she'd just caught her husband red-handed with another woman. There was a lot of shouting… I don't think she meant to do it. One of those things."
"Too many guns in our country," Helen said, shaking her head. "I wonder if we could do something about that. Some kind of butterfly effect thing… change a few things now, hope that they domino their way to putting a dent in the gun violence in the States… of course if it weren't guns, it'd be something else, but still…"
Trusted By The Highlander: A Scottish Time Travel Romance Page 9