"Hugh tells me you don't have any siblings. How are you finding it?"
"Loud," she said faintly, drawing a hearty laugh from Erin. "But — exciting. It was always so quiet with my parents." She smiled. "Thanks so much for inviting me for dinner, Erin. It's delicious."
"It's a pleasure to have you," Erin said with a smile. "Hugh's told us so much about you. I hope you're settling in well?"
"I love it here," she said honestly, smiling broadly. "Could have done without being sick for two weeks solid, but I'm much better now, thanks to your tea."
"Oh, it helped? I'm glad."
"What kind of magic spell did you put on it?" Carissa joked — but she was unprepared for the response. Leah, sitting across from her, dropped her fork with a clatter, her dark eyes wide with shock and consternation. She turned her furious eyes to her brother, who blinked in shock.
"What did you tell her!"
"What?"
"Leah, go and get a napkin to clean up that spill, would you?" Erin said sharply. The girl looked between her mother and brother, a look of injured indignation on her face — then did as she was told after another warning nod from her mother.
"Sorry," Carissa said, flushing a little. "It was — I was joking. It was a dumb joke. Sorry."
"Not at all," Erin said softly, her eyes thoughtful. "We tend to be a little wary of joking about magic at the moment, that's all. We've been having lots of conversations about witch hunters, haven't we?"
Mary, always one to contribute when she sensed an opportunity, sprang into action. "Witch hunters are bad men who don't like it when women know things about things!" she said brightly. "So, we have to be careful about what we say and do and who we talk to, not because we're doing anything wrong, but because some people are silly."
"Well said," Erin said approvingly, a smile dancing on her face as Leah returned with a cloth to soak up her spill. "But I'm glad you're feeling better, Carissa. We'll talk a little more once the girls have gone to bed," she added.
The meal passed in a whirl of voices. The girls all had questions to ask of Carissa, and she was surprised to learn that all six of them seemed to be fully aware of where she was from and how she'd gotten here. Leah was intent on knowing more about the door and was so full of questions about exactly how it had felt to travel through time that her elder sister Brenna had to shush her, murmuring an apology. Maggie, the eldest, was full of questions about how she'd met Hugh, about how they felt about each other, whether they were courting — Carissa found herself blushing, and though Hugh intercepted most of the questions easily enough, she could tell he was a little embarrassed too. There was something about being interrogated by a teenaged girl with a clear interest in romance that made them both feel a little self-conscious about their blossoming relationship... but it made her feel warm, too, to see that he felt the same way as she did.
Mary, for her part, just wanted to know about the future. She had plenty of her own theories about what the future must be like, clearly influenced at least a little by the stories Hugh had been sharing — though she seemed to have confused a few details. Most of her questions seemed to revolve around flying horses — Carissa suspected that Hugh might not have shared her story about coming to Scotland on an airplane with particular care, and it took quite some time to untangle what Mary was actually asking.
"So, there aren't any flying horses?" she asked, her eyes full of betrayal.
Carissa couldn't help it. "I haven't ever seen one," she said regretfully… "But that doesn't mean there aren't any out there."
That seemed to please Mary, and she set off chattering about how she was going to go through the door to the future and be the first woman to find and befriend a flying horse.
Finally, with dinner and dessert both done — the lattermost an enormous apple pie with fresh cream — the girls began to make their goodnights and head for bed, with kindly Brenna taking the lead, shooing the younger ones along before her as she bid Carissa a good night. Hugh exhaled hard when the last of them had finally traipsed up the stairs, shaking his head.
"They were in fine form tonight," he said drily. "You did very well."
"They're great fun," Carissa said, grinning. "Though they're exhausting."
"You see why he spends so much time in the stables now," Erin said with a chuckle. "Come, now. Let's settle in by the fire."
Hugh stoked up the fire in the sitting room until it was crackling cheerfully, bathing the three of them in pleasant warmth as they settled into armchairs a comfortable distant from the flames. With her belly full and a pleasant day behind her, Carissa felt unbelievably content as they settled in, talking quietly about the girls. Brenna, it seemed, was determined to be a midwife — she'd adored babies ever since she was small and had had a considerable hand in helping her mother with the younger girls. Maggie was more interested in love and romance than she was in the family side of things and was always singing love songs to herself. As for Leah — she was the scholar of the family, sharp and incisive, and very interested in magic.
"It's a worry, with witch hunters about," Hugh said heavily, shaking his head. "Sometimes she asks more questions than are good for her… that's why she reacted so strongly to you mentioning magic."
"Sorry about that," Carissa said again, shaking her head. "It was a dumb joke to make."
"Would you like the answer now?" Erin asked, tilting her head to the side. Carissa blinked, not sure what she meant for a moment. "Would you like to know what kind of magic I put in the tea?"
There was an odd silence. It felt like a joke — but neither Erin nor Hugh were laughing. Carissa frowned, looking between the two of them.
"This is partly why I wanted you to come to dinner," Erin said softly, the firelight dancing across her face and making her seem strange and ethereal. "I wanted to tell you in person. You know now that magic is real, yes?"
Carissa took a breath. "Yes," she said simply. What else would explain her presence here? What else would justify the fact that she'd travelled through time, if not magic?
"Well, so are witches." Erin smiled. "Hugh wanted to tell you straight away, but I thought I'd give you some time to settle in, first. Let the two of you get to know each other before we start revealing family secrets. But it's clear that you two… well, there's something between you. I don't think I'm too forward in saying that."
"No," Carissa said, glancing a little shyly at Hugh. "There's — I care about him a great deal, yes."
"Hugh trusts you, and so do I," Erin said simply. "So, I feel comfortable telling you that I'm a practicing witch."
She glanced between them, a little taken aback by the straightforward way Erin had spoken. "A — witch? As in –"
"There are a lot of stereotypes that don't apply," Erin said with amusement dancing on her face. "I can't fly or lay curses on people, for example. My powers are generally limited to herbal remedies, poultices and potions, that sort of thing. Most people in the village just think I know my herbs well. But even that's dangerous enough information, in the wrong hands."
"I understand," Carissa said softly, a little humbled by the significance of the secret this family had just shared with her. "I won't breathe a word of any of it, I promise."
"I know we can trust you," Erin said, smiling. "Call it a witch's intuition. Or a mother's."
"Are they different?"
"Maybe not," Erin said with a smile. "All women are witches, if they want to be."
"They are?" Carissa leaned forward, fascinated. "Even me?"
"Oh, yes. Do you think just anybody could have come through that doorway and accessed its power the way you did? Witchcraft is mostly intention — the actual spellcasting is almost an afterthought. You worked your will upon the world that day, Carissa. You've a great deal of potential — if that's something you're interested in pursuing." Erin smiled, sitting back in her chair and gazing at Carissa in the firelight. "I'd be more than happy to teach you a few things."
"You'd have a loud bunch of classmates to con
tend with, of course," Hugh said drily, gesturing toward the stairs to indicate his sisters.
"Oh! You teach your daughters?"
"Some of them." Erin shrugged. "All women are witches if they want to be… but some women just don't want to be. Maggie has no interest in my work whatsoever, I'm afraid. Neither do the twins, from what I can gather, though they're still young. Mary's a law unto herself — I don't think she could stop talking long enough to learn anything of magic, at least at the moment." She chuckled, affection for the loud little girl vivid in her expression. "That leaves Brenna and Leah. Brenna wants to be a midwife, but she has no interest in any other forms of magic. And Leah is obsessed with spellcasting, but she finds herbalism dry and boring."
"Not magical enough," Hugh said with a chuckle.
"What about you?" Carissa asked, curious. "Can men be witches? Or — warlocks, I suppose?"
"I've a few theories about that myself," Erin said, smiling at her son. "Hugh's gifts manifest in the way he has with horses, I suspect. When he was fourteen he gentled a wild colt that no man could even get close to, let alone touch. Now he's as tame as you please."
"You rode him here tonight," Hugh said, smiling, and Carissa's eyes widened. The sweet black gelding she'd befriended on her first night here had once been a wild colt?
Hugh was a more impressive horseman than she'd thought.
Chapter 15
They talked a little more, but Carissa still had questions about Erin's brand of witchcraft. "So, what was the tea, exactly?" she asked, leaning forward curiously.
"A few herbs from the garden — nothing magical about them, they just happen to have properties that ease pain and congestion. The magic comes in when you combine them," Erin explained, her eyes twinkling. "Infusing the mixture with power… it's a good way to work a spell discretely. Nobody can tell the difference between a normal herbal poultice and one that's infused with magic… the only difference is in how strong the effects are."
"They were pretty strong," Carissa admitted, thinking back to how wretched she'd felt the day that Erin's herbal remedy had been delivered to her. She'd thought it was a coincidence, that she'd just so happened to turn the corner the day she'd had the remedy… she was beginning to see how easy it was to hide magic in plain sight. "I guess people just tend not to believe in magic unless they're shown clear evidence…"
"And even then," Erin said with a laugh. "You'd be surprised what kinds of things people are willing to ignore if it suits their understanding of the world. The opposite, of course, is true when it comes to witch hunters. They're determined to see evil magic wherever they look. I hate to think of how many innocent women have been harassed, hurt or even killed by men who don't understand their work." She sighed. " I hope things were different in your time, Carissa."
She hesitated. "I wish I could say that they were," she admitted, thinking back to the twenty-first century. "I guess… women aren't killed or hurt quite as often just for knowing things. But … there are some people who still don't believe women are intelligent and capable. Even the people who say they love us," she added softly, thinking regretfully of Jim, of the way he'd never really believed in her poetry, always regarded her career with suspicion and contempt.
How many times had he subtly insinuated that the only reason her poetry was being published was because of diversity quotas? How long had he spent undermining her confidence, making her doubt herself? All so that she wouldn't see that she was better than him — that she could do better on her own than she ever did with him. Anger flared up in her chest, and when she looked at Erin, the sympathy in the woman's eyes told her that she knew exactly how she was feeling.
"Well, Carissa," Erin said gently, a smile on her face. "If you'd like to learn about herbalism… I'm in sore need of a student."
"I'd love to," Carissa said, absolutely delighted by the opportunity. "If you're willing to teach me — I mean, I'm a bit slow," she admitted, thinking back to high school. "My teachers always got impatient with me, but –"
Erin hushed her, raising a hand. "Magic's different for every student," she said firmly. "There's no wrong way to learn it. If it takes you a week or a year or the rest of your life — it's all the same to me. It goes without saying, though, I hope, that this stays between you and me," she added firmly.
"Of course," Carissa promised. "Absolutely. I won't tell anyone anything." She tilted her head, thinking hard. "I could always say that I'm babysitting — helping to take care of the girls? Or tutoring them?"
"Good thinking," Erin said approvingly. "You've picked a clever one here, Hugh."
"I know," Hugh said softly, taking her hand and squeezing it with a soft smile that made her heart do a backflip. "I've done well."
They spent the rest of a very pleasant evening talking and laughing around the fire, sharing stories of twenty-first century America and medieval Scotland until Carissa couldn't ignore the yawns Erin was hiding. With six children to chase around all day, it was no wonder she was exhausted — Hugh rose to his feet, hiding a yawn himself, and they headed for the door.
"You're not going to stay?" she said, blinking in confusion. He'd mentioned his room upstairs a few times that night, and she'd assumed she'd be riding back to the castle solo — but he looked at her as though she'd grown a second head when she suggested it.
"And let you ride home alone? I don't think so," he said firmly.
She smiled, feeling a warm glow suffuse her chest. Jim had never worried about her like that — dozens of times he'd let her walk to the subway by herself, left her completely alone late at night… she'd never felt particularly unsafe in New York, but on reflection, it had been pretty poor form on his part. It was amazing the kind of poor treatment you accepted when you didn't know what the alternative was.
She'd made plans with Erin to start on her herbal education, already deciding to use one of her precious notebooks for the task. The idea of learning about herbs was exciting — she was looking forward to learning something that might make her a little more useful around the castle. As much as she was enjoying just settling in, she knew there would come a time when she'd want to do something to occupy her time aside from writing poetry. Somehow, she had a suspicion that her rather post-modern style would take some getting used to for the locals. Best to have other work to busy herself in the meantime — and if she could pay back the kindness of the people of Dunscaith Castle by learning herbalism, then she was determined to do her best at that.
"I'm glad you like my family," Hugh said halfway through their ride into a comfortable, sleepy silence that had fallen between them. The lights of the castle were glimmering in the distance, but the road was cold and dark — she was grateful to have him riding at her side, and for the warmth of the horse beneath her.
"They're great," she agreed with a smile. "And it's so kind of your mother to offer to teach me about herbs –"
"I'm so glad you're interested," he said with a smile. "She adores my sisters, but I think it broke her heart a little that none of them are as interested in herbs as she is."
"Even Leah?"
Hugh shook his head, sighing. "Leah's a tricky one. She wants to know everything about magic — but she doesn't seem to think that herbs count. So, she's happy enough to cast spells, but not to find out which herbs are best to counter a fever."
"I see what you mean." She nodded thoughtfully. It made sense, she supposed, for not all magic to be the same — she was a poet, which to the layman might seem the same as being an author or a playwright, but practically speaking, books and plays had never held the same kind of interest for her as poetry had. If she had been made to learn playwriting and prose alongside poetry, she might never have become the successful poet that she was, either. "We all have our strengths, I suppose. I hope I'm good enough at herbs to make your mother happy," she added with a smile.
"Just being interested has made her happy." Hugh shrugged. "Anything else is a bonus."
They rode in companionable silenc
e back to the castle, and she smiled at the way the gates opened for them. It felt like coming home, even though she'd only been here for… not even a month yet. Strange, how a place she'd been at for such a short time could feel so comfortable. It was as though she was meant to be here — as though her whole life leading up to this utterly bizarre new development had just been preparation for her real home.
And in another way, she thought as she and Hugh dismounted and set about putting the horses away for the night, it felt like her relationship with Jim had been preparation for her relationship with Hugh. Everything Jim had done wrong, Hugh had done right — he was sensible, caring, thoughtful, kind — he cared what she thought, what she wanted. He liked and admired her for her, not for what she might do for him. He wanted her to be a part of his family. And — she could admit it in the privacy of her own mind, at least — she was definitely falling for him. Harder and faster than she'd ever fallen for anyone.
"Can I walk you to your room?" he asked as they left the stables. She shivered a little under the blanket of stars, smiling up at him — and there was a look in his eye that she hoped very much meant what she suspected it might mean.
It was a lot later than she'd thought — the castle felt eerie and almost abandoned as they walked through it, and she chuckled to herself, drawing an inquisitive look from Hugh.
"This reminds me of that first night," she said softly, smiling. "The first night I got here — creeping around in the dark, no idea where I was or what I was doing."
"I remember," he said softly, grinning. "I followed you through the dark for — well, longer than I told you, actually."
"You did?"
"Aye," he said softly. They'd reached her door, now, and she hesitated, not wanting to say goodnight to him so soon… not just yet anyway. Part of her was hoping against hope that he'd stay, that he'd scoop her into his arms and carry her into the room and have his wicked way with her… but she didn't want to suggest it, didn't want him to think of her as some wanton woman who couldn't wait for what she wanted…
Hold A Highlander: A Scottish Time Travel Romance (A Highlander Across Time Book 3) Page 9