"Congratulations are in order, I suppose."
"Thank you," I said, unable to keep a smile from claiming my mouth. No matter what else this might be, I knew it was first and foremost a celebration of the thing I'd wanted my whole life—my future with Hamish.
"Nice of you agree to rush into things so he can claim his—"
"You've found us a hotel around here somewhere, little lad?" Charlie asked, more affectionate than usual and looking around the open pavement as if a hotel might be just off to one side. I smiled at him, glad for the interruption to whatever horrible thing my stepdad had probably been about to say.
"Short drive," Hamish told them all.
It was a big and noisy crowd, and there was a man with the MacEvoys none of us knew, but who Mam was treating with deference, and I soon learned he was Mr. Peabody, the king's official proxy. He was quiet and stern, tall with a hooked nose and a penetrating gaze. I didn't understand exactly what his purpose here was, but I had to remember that while this was a boisterous crowd of people I loved, they were also members of the Durnish royal family, and that added a layer of complication to things like weddings.
Soon, we were all settled in seats inside the bus Hamish had chartered to carry the family from place to place during the time they were in town. Hamish had insisted on driving himself—I loved that practical side of him.
I sat next to Marigold and she clasped my hand immediately, like the sister she'd been to me. "I've missed you so, Sophie," she said.
Having the MacEvoys around me was startling. I had missed them, I knew that. But being among them again, being in the midst of the noise and the rush of activity, was like going home again. From the day Mam had pulled me down from the boulder, I'd been part of this clan—not an honorary member, not held on the outer ring, but pulled right into the center of it and welcomed with all the messy acceptance of a real family.
And God, I'd missed them so much more than I realized. My heart soared as Mari and I tried to catch up on six years apart.
"Tell me what you've been doing with yourself!" she said, squeezing my hand tightly.
The ride to the hotel in the hills east of San Diego was not nearly long enough to explain to Marigold how I'd met Anna in culinary school while working at a restaurant, how we'd dreamed up Bake Me Up together and opened our doors with luck and a prayer, or how my life since then had revolved around the bakery and my friend. Until Hamish had walked through the door that day.
But I did try.
Chapter 106
The Feat of Enduring Patience
Hamish
The Alpine Mountain Resort owners had been happy to reserve the entirety of the fancy lodge for the Durnish contingency when I'd called and explained that the royal family of Durnland would need an isolated mountainous location. It turned out they'd had few bookings as it was, and when I offered to pay for lodgings elsewhere for those folks, there'd been no issues.
"This is perfect," Charlie told me once we'd all gotten settled inside. The sun was beginning to set in the west, and the family was scattered around the wide open deck on the back of the mountain lodge, beers in hand and rolling hills at our feet. We could have been in Durnland except the air was warmer and the land was more brown than green.
Sophie had managed to take the remainder of the week off, though she promised she'd pay for it when she returned—Anna had brought her sister in to help, and from what Sophie said, they didn't get along well.
Now all that was left was to get through the Feats, satisfy the proxy, and convince Mr. James to give us his blessing.
Before Monday.
"Let's get down to business," Charlie said, turning to face me. He'd lost his hair, and that, combined with his serious demeanor, made him seem older than his forty-three years. But his wife Penny made up for every bit of dour sternness.
"Ach Charlie, let's have one night before we have to be so businesslike," she called, hefting a pint of beer practically over her head. Penny and Sophie had a lot in common—both were petite and pretty, both contained fiery personalities within those small shells, and both were warm as the sun. Penny loved to laugh, and I knew she brought out the best in my pensive oldest brother, and she undoubtedly made a warm and cozy home for their four children (all of whom preceded me in line for the throne, by the way.)
Charlie smiled at his wife and sighed, sipping his own beer and then turning to the group chattering away on the porch. Mr. Peabody, the royal proxy, held himself off to one side, watching the energetic group of us with a kind of resigned calm.
"All right, everyone," Charlie called, bringing our attention to where he stood. "We have a lot to accomplish this weekend, namely the Feats."
A raucous cheer went up at that. The Feats were always fun—at least for those who got to watch. Less so for those who were directly involved. Sophie's face was less gleeful than those around her. I sent her a smile and she smiled shyly back from where she stood next to Mari.
"My wise and beautiful wife has suggested we put off business until tomorrow, and that for tonight we simply enjoy one another's company—"
"And some beer!" Dane called out from where he stood next to Oscar.
"And whiskey!" said his twin, James.
I shot a glance to Mr. James, who stood slightly apart from the group. It was well known that he struggled with drink, and I was worried that a night of excessive exuberance might bring out the less gracious portions of his personality, but he held a glass of what appeared to be water. His shoulders were pinched up high and he wasn't smiling, but he didn't appear to be drunk, and he didn't seem angry, either. Thank God for small blessings.
We stayed on the deck for an hour more, the resort staff refilling pints and glasses regularly until the bulk of the MacEvoy party was red-faced and laughing. Mam sat with Mr. Peabody, chatting quietly off to one side, but her eyes strayed regularly to take in the group of us—her kids, mostly grown, behaving as if we'd never grown up at all.
"I saw that last game, Hamish," Charlie told me as we stood in a group off to one side of the deck. As seemed to be normal, the men had gravitated to one another and the women sat in a tight little knot at the other side of the deck, laughing and talking.
"You did, huh?" I asked him.
James and Dane nodded in unison, and then Dane said, "James managed to hack the palace feed somehow to get us American television."
James pushed his twin back and stepped into his spot, effectively blocking him. "That's not true, Dane really doesn't understand technology. It's all perfectly legal," he said, then raised his voice and directed it at Mr. Peabody, "perfectly legal, I say."
"Anyway, it was bloody fantastic," Charlie went on. "And I just can't believe when I'm watching you out there, superstar and everything, that it's my little wank of a brother up on that screen."
"And that they call you the Hammer," Dane laughed, pushing his way back into the group. "We should call and tell them your real nickname is the Whiner."
"Maaaaaammmmm," James said, mocking me.
I shook my head at them, enjoying the ribbing as much as I hated it. "You might remember I was younger than the rest of you, and you all picked on me all the time."
"Life was so hard for little Hamish," James said, but then he threw an arm around me and pulled my head against his chest. "We miss you, boy."
When we finally went inside to the long table that had been set up for dinner, we distributed the genders a bit, and I was happy to have Sophie by my side again.
"You holding up okay?" I asked her. "They can be overwhelming, I know."
"And I know too, remember?" Sophie sat up straighter. "These people are every bit family to me, Hamish. Don't forget that."
I shook my head. I never would. "Glad ya feel that way."
"I miss your father," she said, looking down at where Mam sat, patting Marigold's hand where it rested on the table.
"I do too, but he couldn't get away. He'll be at the wedding though, whenever that will be. He promised." Dad had been needed
at the throne's side—evidently there was some concern about something having to do with the Doom Line, and there was to be a big meeting with some of the local scientists. King Vlad wanted Dad there, since Dad had always been better at math and science than he had been.
"Do you think it's bad news about the Line?" Sophie asked me as the first dishes were passed around the table.
"I don't know," I said honestly. I hated thinking about losing our homeland. All the more reason I was glad everything had worked out smoothly between us so I could claim my birthright and solidify my connection to my home—even if it might soon be gone.
Mam stood up. "I'd like to make a toast on the eve of the Feats," she announced, her voice strong and smooth. "Tonight we celebrate the engagement of my youngest boy, Hamish to the love of his life, Sophie James."
Sophie didn't correct Mam about her surname, and I was relieved. No need to irk Mr. James tonight. So far, he'd been on good behavior.
"It is such a pleasure to be able to witness the continuation of their story, of their love, which we watched grow when they were but wee little weans, and now we are here to see the love between them mature. It's beautiful, and it makes my heart just burst."
Everyone around the table pounded fists, raised glasses and called out.
"But we do have important business first. I'm sorry your father couldn't be here to do the honors," she went on, and she did look sad to have Dad not at her side. "But I am honored to preside over the traditional Durnish Feats of Matrimonial Might. We will begin early tomorrow morning, so please be here for breakfast at eight."
Groans erupted from the group now, as everyone realized that meant there'd be little time to beat the jet lag they were undoubtedly going to be suffering.
"After breakfast, we'll see Hamish and Sophie take on the first Feat." Silence grew around the table as Mam got ready to announce the first feat she'd selected for us. "The Feat of Enduring Patience."
More cheers. But not from me and not from Sophie. A knot formed in my stomach as I thought about the patience feats I'd witnessed and heard about.
"We all know that a relationship between a man and wife must be based in love," Mam said, raising her voice and her glass. "But patience is also needed—sometimes maybe more than even love. And so tomorrow we will spend our day testing the patience of our couple in the first matrimonial feat. To Sophie and Hamish!"
Everyone raised a glass and drank, and I caught the eye of Mr. James at the far end next to Mam. He sipped from a glass of water, and looked strangely calm compared to the angry attitude he'd displayed on the phone.
I gazed away from him, deciding to focus for tonight not on the dread I felt wondering what test of patience my family had engineered for us, and not on Mr. James and his unhappy face. Instead I focused on my family—so many of us together again, and on Sophie, whose presence among us felt not just right, but fated.
Chapter 107
Eight Legs of Death
Sophie
Hamish and I had separate rooms at the lodge, and I was dismayed to see that while I had an adjoining door at the front of my room, it connected to my stepfather's room, not to Hamish's. I double-checked the lock before getting ready for bed. We were not the kind of family who might wish one another goodnight or have any meaningful chats before bedtime.
My goal was to make it through this week—and the Feats—while maintaining a calm civility with my stepfather. He hadn't reached out to me in the six years I'd been gone, though I'd gotten in touch any time I moved or changed my number. My contact with him was administrative. Just crossing the Ts. Making sure he knew where to find me if he ever really needed to. Maybe I owed him that much for giving me a roof over my head and food to eat for the years after my mother passed. But I didn't think I owed him a thing more.
Hamish had kissed me goodnight outside my door, an act made slightly less romantic by the door that opened across the hall, allowing a drunk Dane and James to topple out at our feet, cackling and hooting as we kissed and wished each other a good sleep.
The twins had always been the life of the party—by far the most trouble for Mam in their youth. It didn't appear that much had changed. They were both sturdily built and handsome, though one was dark as night and one was light like the sun. They didn't look alike, but they seemed to share a personality, and I wondered if they were ever serious about anything. Neither had married, and I'd learned tonight that they'd started a distillery together, carrying on the tradition of centuries of making Durnish whiskey.
"Good night little lambs," Dane called as he ducked back into their room.
"Sleep tight, little brother," James added. "Hope your dreams aren't creepy crawly." They pulled the door shut before either of us could ask what that meant.
We found out just after breakfast the next morning.
Mr. Peabody greeted us and then stepped back as Mam and my stepdad gathered the group of us back on the deck.
"The first feat," Mam told us. "Is the feat of patience, as I told you last night."
"True patience is tested," my stepfather said, surprising us all by taking a leading role suddenly, "by enduring that which you feel you cannot, knowing your spouse will rescue you. Eventually."
Oh God. What would we be forced to endure?
"Hamish, my lad. Take a seat here, won't you?" Hamish was guided to a sturdy wooden chair, and as soon as he'd sat down, Mam motioned to James and Dane, who were grinning gleefully.
"Matrimonial bonds, if you will," Dane said, and they each rolled out several lengths of thin rope, dropping them on the ground and then taking their time tying Hamish to the chair.
I exchanged a look with him, glad to see that so far, he did not look too worried about our feat.
"We're tying the ropes using traditional Durnish sailing knots," James said, looking over his shoulder at me. "Done much sailing, Sophie?"
I shook my head, the first little twist of fear sending worry up my spine. I swung my gaze to Mari, who sensed my concern. "We've all had to do it, Soph. You'll be fine. Stay calm."
Calm? Why would I need to stay calm?
When Dane walked over to Charlie and they bent over to take a large glass container out of a bag, I began to understand. The container was crawling with small black spiders. I heard Hamish suck in a breath.
"Hamish has never been fond of spiders," Charlie said, looking more resigned than happy about his part in this. "But I assure you these do not bite. They're harmless, but certainly annoying."
"The feat," my stepfather said, as James stepped away, having tied the last complicated knot around Hamish's ankle. "Is for Sophie to untie the bounds as Hamish waits patiently. The spiders are not to be disturbed," he said.
For a moment it seemed easy enough. Though Hamish looked apprehensive, having a jar of spiders so near to him, this would be no problem. The knots would certainly take me a while, but I had no idea why they all thought I'd be tempted to 'disturb' the spiders.
But then my stepfather upended the jar on Hamish's lap, and the little black spiders went scurrying in all directions, crawling over his legs and arms, and a few escaped into his beard.
Hamish let out a garbled cry, which he seemed to swallow as his eyes found mine. If I'd been certain before that we could pass this feat easily, I was certain no longer. Hamish's arms twitched, and I knelt at his feet, going to work on the first knot.
"Stay calm, Hamish," I told him. "I'll make quick work of these—oh!" A spider crawled onto my hand as I struggled and I flung it away.
"Try not to disturb the little guys," Dane suggested, sounding pleased.
"Right," I said, focusing on the knot.
Dane and James were evidently skilled knot tyers, and I gained a new respect for rope, knots, and patience. It took me five minutes to untie the first knot at Hamish's ankle, and as I loosened it, I glanced up at his face, which had gone pale and white. His body shook slightly, and it pained me to see him like this.
"I'm sorry," I told him. "They're so tig
ht." I was working feverishly on the next knot, this one at his wrist.
"Just do your best," he said, his voice a strained whisper.
"Think of other things, love," I told him, and I realized this test of patience wasn't just a test of his patience. Though I knew he might reach his limit and explode, screaming at me to hurry up for the love of god, I didn't expect him to give in to that. But I realized I had to be patient, too. Watching him suffer was worse than suffering myself, and I was every bit as eager to free him as he was to be free. It occurred to me to try to distract him.
"Did I ever tell you," I began as my fingers struggled with the knots, "about the time I caught your brothers trying to get out of eating their vegetables?" I asked him.
Hamish shook his head, and his eyes found mine gratefully.
Dane and James made a little noise of alarm, but the onlookers were instructed not to speak, so they couldn't stop me.
"Well," I began. "I'd been invited to dinner and you were off at football practice like always," I said. "I think I was about ten, and James and Dane must've been eleven or so.
"Do you remember the big grandfather clock behind the dining table in your family's dining room?"
Hamish nodded. "Aye, the one that started to sound muffled over time."
"Right. Well, it was conveniently located behind the seats the twins always sat in," I reminded him, freeing one of his hands and moving quickly to the knots behind his back as spider scurried up his sleeve and he swallowed a cry. "So one night Mam got up to get something from the kitchen, and before I knew it, Dane had pulled open the front of the clock. Both of them scraped their Brussels sprouts into the clock and they'd closed it up again and sat back down before Mam came back to the table."
Hamish laughed at this, and relief washed through me.
"After dinner I went to look inside the clock, and there was a smelly mush inside that thing that must have been made of at least three years of vegetables."
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