"It's a pleasure, Miss Adams," Donal said, smiling as he gestured to a pair of empty seats at the table. "You're welcome, as your sisters have been before you, to Castle MacClaran, for as long as you choose to stay with us."
"Very kind," she managed, hoping that her smile looked strained out of nervousness, not suspicion. "Thank you. It's nice to meet you all," she added, her eyes flicking up and down the table. Which one of these women was the cop? Could she pick her out? The row of smiling faces… there. Down the end. Wavy brown hair, hazel eyes — that was her, she'd bet her life on it. Something in the posture, in the carefully schooled blankness of her expression that made even her smile seem remote. That was the cop. She was glad she wasn't sitting too close to her as Kieran ushered her into her seat.
"You must be starving," the woman seated across from her said warmly. Like Fiona, she had dark red hair — but she was older by a decade or two, the fine lines around her eyes not detracting much from her beauty. "I'm Audrina."
"Oh, Kieran told me about you. You were the first one to turn up here."
Audrina chuckled. "That's right. But not the last. Let me make the introductions," she added, glancing down the table. "Not all of us are here tonight — we thought it best not to overwhelm you. Cora's at a farm nearby at the moment, actually, with a lady who's due to have her first baby any second. This is Marianne, though," she added, gesturing to woman with straight dark hair and a regal disposition, who flashed Scarlet a grin that was anything but regal. "Fiona you've met… Delilah and Bethany are sitting together there," she added, nodding to a couple of women who both raised a hand to wave at the same time — then exchanged exasperated glances. "The only true sisters among us," Audrina said with a grin, "though we have formed an odd little sorority."
"All women are sisters," interjected a younger blonde woman sitting along the table from Scarlet. "I'm Helena."
"And that's Brianna down the end, and her new husband Robert."
Sure enough — Brianna was the cop. She'd been right.
Now how the hell was she going to get through this dinner without getting figured out?
Chapter 20
Thankfully, she didn't get the third degree from any of the women — at least, not right away. They all seemed respectful of the long day she'd had, and though she could tell that they were itching to question her, Audrina and Marianne, the older of the woman there, firmly steered the conversation away from the subject while Scarlet's plate was loaded with food. Steaming mashed potatoes, and some roasted meat with gravy that smelled so fragrant that she couldn't imagine ever having found the dried meat she'd eaten on the road satisfying in the slightest…
"This is delicious," she said with her mouth full, not wanting to seem too quiet as she tucked into her meal — the quieter she seemed, the more they'd want to draw her out of her shell, and she wasn't having that. "Beats the hell out of bread and cheese. No offence, Kieran."
Kieran was too busy with his own plate to respond with anything other than a cheerful shrug, and she grinned — then glanced up to see that half of the women were peering intently at the two of them. Remembering belatedly that every single one of them had ended up marrying a MacClaran, she felt her face flush a little and returned her gaze to her meal. That was a subject she was determined to avoid. Easy on the eyes as he may have been, Kieran MacClaran was… well, she wasn't going to marry him, leave it at that. That might have worked for all of these women, the domestic life… but she wasn't having it. She was going back to the big smoke, and with any luck, all of this would seem like some bizarre dream one day…
"So, tell us about yourself, Scarlet," Fiona said finally, an impatient look in her eye even as she received a warning look from Audrina. "How'd you get here?"
"I was going to ask you all the same thing," Scarlet replied with a raise of her eyebrow, drawing a giggle from a few of the women. "All I remember is falling in the damn river just outside of Philadelphia, and then suddenly — medieval nightmare."
"You're from Pennsylvania, then?" Brianna enquired from the other end of the table. Scarlet fought the urge to stiffen. Don't act suspicious around the cop, don't act suspicious around the cop…
"Not exactly," she said with a shrug. "I'm kind of from everywhere. My dad and I traveled all around the country, ever since I was born. That's why my accent's so weird."
"Oh, that explains it," Laird Donal said, his eyes dancing. "Then what's your excuse, Fiona?"
She elbowed him in the ribs, looking amused and annoyed in equal parts. "Don't be rude."
"You were in Philadelphia when you came through?" Audrina leaned forward, a look of intent curiosity on her face. "Were you doing anything in particular?"
Oh, only running from the cops over the rooftops. A regular Tuesday. "Not really," she said with a shrug, improvising wildly. "I was walking along the river by myself and I tripped, I guess. Fell into the water, and when I crawled out, I was — well, here. Walked into the village, met Kieran —"
A knowing look was exchanged among the women, and she fought the urge to grit her teeth. They really did think she was going to marry him, didn't they? There was something downright creepy about that… as though her own free will meant nothing, as though the fact that she was here meant that it was a foregone conclusion that she'd fall in love and get married and start pumping out babies until she died in childbirth before she'd even turned forty… something on her face must have shown at least a little of the color of her thoughts, because she saw Audrina give the other women a warning look before clearing her throat and changing the subject.
"So, what do you do for a living?"
"I'm a student," she said, glancing sideways at Kieran, aware that she was about to backtrack a little on her story and hoping that he was too distracted stuffing his face to have a problem with it. "I'm kind of a permanent student, honestly. Never quite settled on a major, though I was thinking anthropology…"
That seemed to satisfy Kieran, who at any rate didn't seem perplexed by the inconsistency in her story. Great. Now she could pretend that any glaring gaps in her knowledge were a result of her poor study record. It wasn't exactly the most glamorous cover story — bad student — but it would do for now. All that mattered was that it be easy to maintain and arouse the minimum possible suspicion. She sure as hell wasn't telling any of these women that she was a career criminal with an international reputation.
"I'd just finished my PhD when I came through," one of the sisters said — this must be Delilah, she realized, thinking back to what Kieran had told her about the women. "Which college did you go to?"
Shit. Panic gripped her and she kept her face neutral. Why the hell hadn't she thought of this already? Why couldn't she think of the name of a college? "Uh, I've moved around a lot," she admitted. "Transferring credits and all that. It's part of why it's taken me so long to get my undergrad." Did that check out? Did that sound like academic jargon? Delilah seemed happy enough with it, so she forced herself to stop talking about it. "Anyway," she said with a flick of her hand, as though the subject of her studies was the least interesting thing imaginable. "I've been giving rather a lot more thought to the whole… literal existence of magic, situation."
The women chuckled — Fiona and Marianne looked especially amused, exchanging a glance across the table, and Scarlet took quiet note of that. Were these the two magically-inclined women? Hadn't Kieran suggested there were more of them? That was okay — she had plenty of time to figure out who to talk to about magic.
"It's a bit of a learning curve, for sure," Fiona said with a smile. "Focus on settling in first, maybe."
"I'm settled," she said, more sharply than she'd intended. "Now, I kind of just want answers about what I'm doing here." And how to get back, she didn't say — part of her was worried about getting stonewalled from all of the women here, told firmly that there was no way back and to stop worrying about it. If she didn't bring it up, they couldn't dissuade her… and she could start doing her own research.
"Kieran told you the story, I assume?" Audrina said gently, her eyes full of a sympathy that would have made Scarlet bristle if she wasn't carefully schooling her responses. There was a cop here, she kept telling herself, be careful. Some cops were dumb as bricks, of course — but there were plenty of canny ones among the bunch. And if what Kieran had told her about Brianna was true — that the woman had successfully manipulated Lord Weatherby himself into doing what she said — then her bet would be that Brianna was one of the smart ones. And that made her dangerous to someone like Scarlet.
"Yeah," she said, hoping her discomfiture would come across as grief for the poor lost Emily. "One of Weatherby's cousins, dying in childbirth, all that stuff. It's sad. I don't really see what it has to do with me, though," she added with a grimace.
The other women nodded.
"I felt the same way," Helena said simply. "The woman I was brought here to replace — Brigid… I mean, she was as different from me as I could imagine. It took a while for Brendan to see that, too," she added with a smile. "But he did."
"Aye, I was rather taken aback by the likeness," Kieran said cheerfully.
Scarlet didn't much like the way he was talking about himself in comparison to Helena's husband, but she couldn't exactly pick that fight right now, could she?
"But she's her own woman and no mistake. Though they may have their stubbornness in common."
"Rude," Scarlet said with dignity, drawing another laugh from the women. "Tell him that telling a woman not to go somewhere is a very good way of getting her to go there. Tell him."
"I could've told you that, mate," Laird Donal said in an undertone to his cousin, his eyes dancing with mirth. "That's universal, that is."
"Aye, it was the same with Emily," he said, shaking his head. "I should have told you the whole story, Scarlet. I'm sorry."
"Well, at least nobody was hurt," Fiona said, a tight look about her eyes that had Scarlet curious as to the reason. "I'd have loved to see the look on Weatherby's face when you turned up in his portrait room, though, the man is an ass."
It seemed that Kieran had filled the Laird and his wife in on the story while she'd been talking with Audrina — but the other women didn't seem to be up to date. Scarlet turned her attention to her meal as Kieran launched into the retelling at their urging, fighting the urge to mock him for the little alterations he made to the story. Good. Let them think that she was done with Lord Weatherby's manor, that she wouldn't be returning. The way Kieran told the story made it very clear that he didn't suspect why she'd really gone there — that she'd been motivated by professional curiosity as well as personal… or that her pockets were still full of stolen goods. She'd have to find her way down to the village sooner or later to lighten that particular load… it always made her itchy to have too many stolen goods on her at any one time. Old habits died hard, and she didn't like the fact that there was a cop here, keeping a sharp eye on her. Too many questions about her backstory. She'd have to do a better job of keeping the subject on the here and now.
And she did, spending the rest of the meal deflecting every polite enquiry and turning it into a question about the woman who'd asked it. She gathered plenty of information about them, their children, the lives they'd built here… and though she smiled and nodded along, inside she was growing increasingly resolute to get the hell out of here as soon as she could. She didn't belong here — didn't belong in this pleasant little domestic reverie they'd built for themselves, didn't belong as a wife and a mother and absolutely nothing else. And so what if she couldn't get back to the future? Fine by her. She'd make a career as a thief here, if she had to… but she sure as hell wouldn't be staying in this tiny corner of medieval Scotland to do it. London, that was where she'd go. She'd be the best damn thief the sixteenth century had ever seen, if she couldn't go back to the twenty-first.
And if it meant leaving Kieran on his own again… well, that wasn't her problem, was it? She hadn't killed his wife; she hadn't made him think that she'd be replacing her… all she'd done was be a victim of fate and chance for far longer than she was happy with. No, it was time to take control. Figure out as much as she could about getting home, and then do it, if she could. And London could be there as a last resort. But as she listened to the women's stories, to them chattering on about their journeys here, the various ways they'd come to the Keep, she noticed one common thread. It was the women who'd preceded them — the women who'd died tragically young — who were the source of the magic that had brought them here.
Did that mean that to reverse the spell, she'd need to learn more about Emily? It seemed that way. And that meant another trip to Lord Weatherby's manor was in her near future. She hid a grin; glad she'd done such a thorough casing of the joint — that mental map would come in handy when she went back for more information. There was something going on there, alright — some unsolved mystery that related to Emily that she was going to get to the bottom of.
Maybe that would give her the clues that she needed to finally get home.
Chapter 21
Once she'd finished her plate, she felt a sleepy somnolence creeping across her — and when she fought back a yawn or two, it wasn't long before Audrina was putting an end to the conversation, firmly telling the disappointed women that there'd be plenty of time to talk with their new friend in the coming days.
"You're welcome here as long as you want to stay," Audrina told her again, warmth in her eyes as she squeezed her hands. She liked Audrina a lot — there was something kind and trustworthy about her, something that reminded her a little of what it must have been like to have a mother… but she hardened her heart against it, even as she let herself smile gratefully. You're never among friends, Scarlet, she told herself firmly. Play the game, but don't let it take you in. This woman and all the others want you to stay here, to marry Kieran and be a housewife, to play along with their sad little domestic fantasy. Stay sharp.
Audrina took her up the stairs to show her to her room, down the end of a long corridor, with a view that looked out over the moors — not that she could see much at this time of night. But the room was much more pleasant than the one she'd had at the inn, with a softer, thicker mattress and a deeper pile of quilts to bury herself in. To her surprise, there was a fire burning in the grate, too, and a jug of water provided for her to drink.
"Would you like me to send for some hot water for a bath?" Audrina asked — but she was already shaking her head.
"I'll see to that in the morning. Thank you, Audrina."
"Anything else you need, say the word." She looked at her closely, tilting her head a little. "I'd say you're about Karin's size. Will you need any more clothes? I can ask her for a few spare gowns —"
"That would be great," she said warmly. She'd play the part, wear the gowns, be an obedient little woman… and when she needed to, she'd change and disappear into the night like a shadow. She felt a little guilty, scheming against Audrina, who was showing her such kindness… but it was better in the long run, she told herself firmly. It would be better for everyone if she got out of here, one way or another.
She just hoped it wouldn't break Kieran's heart in the process. He'd bid her goodnight so warmly, and she had to admit she was becoming fond of him as the days wore on… no, she told herself firmly. His feelings were irrelevant. She wasn't in control of how fond of her he got, of what stupid conclusions he drew based on what had happened to a bunch of other women and men… they weren't like her. None of them were like her. She had to take care of herself, as she always had. As her father had been teaching her to do, ever since she was tiny… and especially since he'd known he was sick. Was that why she was so tough, so independent, so unwilling to let anyone in? Maybe, she thought grimly… but at the same time, it wasn't as though letting people in had a particularly good track record for her. Letting people in meant you ended up on rooftops, getting shot at by cops in the dead of night… and what would Emily's life have been like if she hadn't let herself fal
l for Kieran? Better, probably. Longer.
And a lot less fun, a voice whispered to her as she drifted off to sleep, snug and warm in her new bed. She did her best to ignore it… and if her dreams were full of strange visions of her and Kieran, then what did that matter? Dreams didn't mean anything. It was just the mind processing the day. And she'd had a hell of a day.
The next few days were almost boring by contrast. Sure, it was interesting enough to be exploring a medieval castle… and the irony wasn't lost on her, as she wandered the corridors, that a real college student would probably be beside themselves with joy to spend even an hour here, studying the tapestries, the statues, the suits of armor… hell, even the stonework itself would probably have been of interest to a big enough nerd. But Scarlet felt restless as she wandered the place. What was the point, her instincts kept asking? What was the point of skulking these corridors? There was nothing here she wanted to steal — plenty worth stealing, of course, especially those great big tapestries in the entrance hall, she had a suspicion they'd be worth a fair bit — but she didn't want to steal from these people. It was Weatherby who had all the unearned wealth, Weatherby who'd annoyed her by trying to control her… the MacClarans, by contrast, only wanted to help her.
Well, they also wanted her to get married and settle down to a life of domestic bliss and babies, but that was hardly their fault, was it? They honestly meant well. They didn't think they were signing her up for a literal nightmare.
She spent a little bit of time with the women, too. One on one was a lot less intimidating — Helena joined her on a walk around the outer wall of the castle, chattering on enthusiastically about all the rock formations in the area — See? Scarlet thought. Nerds could get excited about anything and everything — and Marianne showed her around the stables with her dark eyes gleaming, even offering her a few riding lessons, which she politely declined. No sense owing too many favors around here.
Highlander Guarded: A Scottish Time Travel Romance (Highlander In Time Book 10) Page 14