Chapter 31
CHAPTER 31
“Brianna! Brianna!”
Brianna turned, affection filling her heart at the sight of Tristan leaning against the window ledge, looking outside. She could see why Aidan and the boy had such an attachment to one another. They were both so serious, yet so warm and open. She’d spent nearly every day of the last week with him either trailing along behind her or directly at her side as she did whatever she could to keep busy and pitch in to help Gwen. While there weren’t as many mouths to feed or children to tend to with Isabelle and Gavin no longer in residence, the whole household was still adjusting to their absence. It was obvious that they’d had a well-run routine while they were here, and everyone was missing them.
“Look!” Tristan said as Brianna made her way to the window. “Maggie’s here! And I think Aunt Cateline has come, too, with Isla and the baby, look!”
Brianna’s heart ticked up, and she rushed over to look for herself. Sure enough, a small army stretched along the path that led to the gates of the courtyard with her family right at the center. Immediately, Brianna felt tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. She swiped a few away as Gwen burst into her chamber.
“Brianna, they’re here,” she said, clearly emotional too.
It was a big day. Brianna was meeting her family, the rest of her family, her true family for the first time. Gwen had received a letter from Maggie just the other day alerting them that she was going to be visiting, eager to meet “the famous Brianna,” as she’d worded it. Apparently, Callum had written to her the day that he’d, well, that day he’d wanted to show Aidan who was boss, at least where his family was concerned. By the time Maggie’s letter had arrived, their caravan was clearly on its way, albeit at a leisurely pace, since Aunt Cateline and Maggie’s two young children, Isla and her baby Dougal were coming, too.
All three of them—Brianna, Gwen, and Tristan—hurried out of the room toward the stairs, Brianna fighting a losing battle of trying to stay in front of Gwen, who was always moving at a faster pace than seemed possible given her pregnancy. Brianna was worried Gwen would trip on the stairs, but Gwen only rolled her eyes when she saw what she was doing.
“We’ll only both get hurt,” Gwen muttered under her breath .
“True, but I’ve gained the favor of your guards, see,” Brianna said, pointing to the sentries at the bottom of the stairs, who were looking at her and nodding.
By the time they made it outside, everyone had descended from the carriage, with the baby nestled in Aunt Cateline’s arms. Brianna, of course, had never met Maggie before, but she was immediately recognizable. The moment Brianna appeared in the doorway, Maggie ran to her like she was a cherished and much-missed member of the family, calling her name as she got closer. Her voice caught and filled with such emotion that Brianna faltered, then began to cry herself as she started down the steps, chin quivering and tears soaking her cheeks. When Maggie reached her, she wrapped her arms around her, making the biggest spectacle ever, though Brianna found she didn’t mind it one bit, sinking into the welcoming and nurturing embrace. When they finally broke apart, Maggie quickly smiled at Tristan and then at Gwen’s little girl, before reaching for Aunt Cateline and wrapping them all in one big circle. Gwen and Lady Madelyn joined them, too, and it was another few minutes before they’d gathered themselves enough to pull away.
“Oh, look at you,” Maggie said, grasping Brianna’s shoulders and shaking her head. “So pretty.” Her fingers tangled in one of Brianna’s soft wavy curls, which had returned just the other day when the last of her Keratin treatment lost its hold. (Brianna had known the transformation was complete when she ran into Gwen who’d let out a squeal of shock and delight and could do nothing but point at her and mouth “Your hair !”)
“Look at our family,” Maggie said, taking them all in before stepping aside to let Aunt Cateline move closer, too.
Brianna allowed herself to be scrutinized yet again. The older woman stared into her eyes, then reached out to cup her cheeks. Brianna marveled at how her face rested in the (surprisingly soft) hands of her favorite ancestor Cateline De la Cour.
“You know those eyes came from my sister, Isabeau,” Cateline said approvingly.
Brianna shook her head as tears filled her eyes again. She’d never felt so connected to another person since her grandfather died and hadn’t felt so full since she’d lost her parents. She couldn’t even speak, she was so choked up. She just leaned into another hug from Cateline and stayed there, listening to the baby babble until she was able to gather herself a bit. When she pulled away she noticed a few of the men, the older ones especially, were pinching the bridges of their noses to keep their emotions at bay.
“Come on,” Gwen said after a moment. “Let’s go inside and get everyone settled.”
Brianna was about to follow everyone up the steps when she saw Gwen motioning at Maggie, pointing to the baby. Maggie gave her a smile, her eyes filled with a different kind of emotion as she took him from Aunt Cateline’s arms and turned him around so Gwen could see him .
Gwen smiled, her expression contorting for just a second as she nodded and gently stroked the boy’s face and crown. Maggie turned away for a moment and Brianna realized then that they had probably been pregnant at the same time, but Gwen had lost that baby. Hit with another, altogether different wave of feeling, Brianna fanned her eyes to stave off tears. After a long hug, with the baby in the middle again, the two women pulled apart and turned to Brianna, each latching an arm around her.
Brianna, who never really had close friends, surely not a sisterhood, suddenly found herself right in the middle of one. The three of them walked arm in arm up the steps and inside, still shedding an occasional tear, but laughing, too. After it was decided who was staying with whom (especially the little ones), Brianna made a few trips between Gwen’s room and the others, distributing bottles of the new lotions, soaps, and scrubs Gwen and Lady Madelyn had made. On her last trip, something caught her eye from inside one of Gwen’s open wardrobes and she nearly dropped the tray she was carrying.
“Wait,” Brianna said, feeling her heart wither. “Why do you have these?” She asked, horrified as she bent down to grab the pile of clothing bunched up next to Gwen’s shoes. It was the outfit she’d been wearing on the day she arrived in this time, clutching Aidan’s medallion. Suddenly, something clicked into place. “This is what he gave you the morning he left, isn’t it?”
“Oh, Brianna I’m so sorry,” Gwen said, shaking her head. “He did, but not to upset you. He just wanted to?—”
She stopped herself as Brianna broke down again, all her old fears suddenly rushing back.
“Brianna, what’s wrong?” Maggie had just appeared in the doorway and immediately rushed to her side. Brianna let herself be guided to a little sitting area, as Maggie looked at her with concern.
Knowing she could trust her newfound sisterhood, Brianna let all her feelings out, explaining to Maggie what she’d missed, with Gwen filling in the gaps, and translating for her when she was crying too hard to speak clearly.
“What if it means I’m supposed to go back?” Brianna said. She felt truly desperate about the possibility, and that realization was a surprise—suddenly her home, which she’d always loved and where she’d felt safest for the better part of her life, seemed stark and empty now. It would be cruel to have all she’d found here ripped away. “I just don’t want to lose this, what I have here with all of you, not just Aidan.”
“I don’t understand why you think that,” Gwen said, shaking her head. “I still have my clothing from—well, you know. In fact, much to my husband’s displeasure,” she tilted her head to the side, “and sometimes pleasure. Anna makes me all sorts of garments, some period-appropriate, others…not so much.”
Brianna smiled a little at this. She knew Gwen was only trying to help, but she still wasn’t convinced. She told them about Aidan’s theory on fate, and its course when it came to all of them, curious to see how Gwen and Maggie would react.
“Well,” Maggie said, “I suppose he’s right. By the time I came to Dunhill, Derek had been gone for almost two years. Fiona, too. And trust me, Callum and I did not look at each other and instantly fall in love—we really didn’t. But we had a lot of common ground, and it easily outweighed the uncommon ground. Who knows what would have happened if we never left the safety of our bubble.” Maggie paused then, most likely at Brianna’s wide-eyed expression.
“Bubbles are nice, but we can’t stay in them forever,” Gwen said, not missing a beat, apparently the bubble metaphor was already in use. “And once the tide has risen,” Gwen pulled a face. “Bad choice of words. And now I’m mixing metaphors. What I meant was, once that love takes hold, there’s nothing that will stop it, no matter how hard you pretend otherwise, or try to outsmart it.” Gwen laughed, then said, “Ask Maggie, she tried.”
Maggie made a face. “I just thought so long as I didn’t admit to anything out loud, I’d be okay.”
Brianna nodded, a small flicker of hope glimmering in her chest as she listened to Maggie’s story. For all their ups and downs, and every struggle they had each overcome, in the end, they were still together, all of them.
“The crazy things we do while trying to outsmart a fate that’s already been chosen for us.”
“Well, you at least had a prophecy to give you some kind of clue— and let’s not forget, you’re head of the class too…” Maggie said, tipping an imaginary hat to Gwen.
“Not a detective,” Gwen quipped.
Maggie made a sound. “Well, this detective was an epic failure. My greatest accomplishment came down to beating rugs at the abbey. Go Maggie,” she cheered in a sad, faint whisper, twirling her fingers like pompoms, while making a disparaging face.
“Wait,” Brianna shook her head, “Is that how you really feel?” She was shocked that this woman she had idolized her whole life saw herself in such a diminished light.
“I was a federal agent who fell apart and became a curtseying, scaredy-cat, people pleaser,” Maggie said.
Gwen disagreed with Maggie’s harsh self-assessment, too, and Brianna decided it was her turn to dole out some encouragement and set Maggie straight.
“Maggie,” she said, “It’s because of you and the legacy you began that I’ve survived here—and Aidan, too. Without you, I wouldn’t have learned self-defense or weaponry—or at least not like I had. If not for your feelings after losing Derek and almost losing Callum, you wouldn’t have ensured that every female O’Roarke for nearly a millennium— a millennium —never felt that way again. THAT is an incredible and powerful legacy. In fact, it goes way beyond.”
Maggie nodded, clearly fighting back tears at Brianna’s declaration.
“It’s true,” Brianna said softly. “You’ve always been a hero of mine.” She gave that a moment to sink in, then added, “And what’s wrong with curtseying, anyway?”
After an appreciative smile from Maggie, and another group hug, everyone was emotionally spent, and so instead of doubling down, or trying to further a point, any point, they all decided to give it a much-needed rest and focus their energy on another (they’d stressed) positive outcome. Brianna understood where they were coming from, but they either didn’t realize or had already forgotten how the added disadvantage of her O’Roarke heritage—when it came to marriage, at least—could tip the scales. Brianna’s fear that something would happen to pull the rug out from under her, or pull her from this reality had only slightly abated, but there was nothing Gwen or Maggie could tell her that would change that, and so she was happy to leave it for now.
That night, well after the castle had quieted down, there was a knock on Brianna’s door, and Gwen came in. “Today was another win, Brianna,” she said, and grasped her hands as if to shore her up and say, ‘ See you’re still here’ . Gwen closed her eyes and quietly said, ‘Thank you’ like an amen. As Brianna looked up at her, she realized that this was what family and friends did for each other. Gwen’s gesture was so sweet and so heartfelt, and so natural in its simplicity. The small act of kindness lifted Brianna’s spirits enough to give her the courage to believe that the impossible could be within reach.
And just like that, the days began to pass, and the week that followed turned into a fun girl’s stay-cay ( well, girls plus the guards from both Seagrave and Dunhill, Henry, and of course, Tristan, his little brother, and baby Dougal). But still, it was the girls—from ages two to sixty-two if Brianna was calculating Aunt Cateline’s age correctly — who were rocking down the house. And Gwen’s thankful ‘prayer’ quickly became a nightly routine, and she, Maggie, Aunt Cateline, Lady Madelyn, and Anna all came to Brianna’s chamber each evening after putting the little ones down for the night to remind her that she was still there. Sometimes Brianna would swear she could hear another chorus of voices whispering it, too, and she imagined the staff and guards just outside the door, doing what they could to ensure that she remained, too.
After nearly ten days at Seagrave, Gwen declared Brianna fully healed and they immediately made plans to travel to Dunhill Proper so Brianna could finally see it as it was then…or was it, as it was now…then, now…she threw her hands in the air. Whichever was technically correct, it was Dunhill Proper now, so there.
While Brianna had a difficult time containing her excitement about going to her ancestral home, she still couldn’t shake the nagging worry that something was going to happen to extinguish the wee bit of magic she carried with her. So far, though, she’d staved off the demons, even when she overheard talk that Father Michael was needed to marry “the Sinclair” to Judith Fitzgerald. She forgave herself for that one—could anyone really be surprised that she’d thought the worst, especially when the remark included such phrasing as ‘not making the same mistake again’ and ‘ensuring it was sanctified’. It was a stretch even for Brianna 2.0 with all of her growth.
Luckily, the news was overheard just before they’d sat to have dinner, meaning Brianna was in the company of many a wise woman. As they passed bread and butter around the table, they’d set her straight at once. It was a good thing, too, that she’d become used to their sharp wit and keenly shrewd ways, because timid and indirect they were not.
“You’re right,” Brianna said with a decisive (well, ninety-nine percent sure) nod. “It’s going to be okay.”
Gwen reached for her hand. “You sure have come into yourself, haven’t you?” she said, smiling affectionally.
Brianna realized then that Gwen was right, she had never once felt so comfortable in her own skin.
Gwen seemed to intuitively understand because she reached out to give her hand a gentle squeeze. “That’s what happens when you find your people,” she said. “Your true people.”
Brianna squeezed her hand back, “Well, genius does like company,” she said with a soft smile, making her new sisterhood grin and erupt into muffled laughter.
The conversation around the table turned to Brianna’s wedding then, the one that everyone insisted was imminent. When Maggie suggested that Brianna wear her gown, her jaw dropped. She didn’t even know what the dress looked like, but it didn’t matter. The offer was so meaningful, that Brianna was overwhelmed for a moment. Once she’d collected herself, she reached for Maggie’s hand. “Oh, Maggie, I would love to wear your gown,” she said. “But do you think it’s bad luck since Aidan’s already seen it?”
Gwen and Maggie both shot her peculiar looks, and it was so quiet for a moment, that Brianna worried she’d said something wrong. Then, Gwen finally broke and said, “Brianna, work with me here—you’re technically married already.” She paused, ostensibly to let that sink in, then with a small grin added, “Besides, Aidan didn’t make it to that wedding. He didn’t arrive until the day after the nuptials. So…he’s never seen the dress.”
It was too perfect to deny ( fated? she let herself wonder for a moment) and Brianna felt immediately lighter.
“Oh. Well in that case, then, yes!” she said. “I would love to wear your dress, Maggie.”
Brianna felt like she was floating. She was so happy, what with the revelation about the dress, coupled with the sighs of delight she heard as everyone started paying closer attention to the main course, which Brianna had prepared herself as a thank you for everyone’s support and hospitality. She even managed to keep a straight face when Gwen whipped her head around to look at her, giving her a pointed stare before waving her fork in the air.
“Is this Coq au vin?” Gwen asked, jabbing the fork toward her .
Brianna shrugged. “Maybe,” she said and held up her thumb and finger. “Just a little bit.”
“And I’m the one who catches hell for making meals that mess with the time continuum?”
They sat around the table, laughing throughout the rest of the meal. After dessert, a fruit flambé of sorts served with a crisp pastry, that earned Gwen’s eternal adulation, they headed upstairs to put the little ones to bed. It had become another evening routine, baths, bedtime stories followed by a parade of hugs and goodnights. Once Lady Madelyn and Aunt Cateline retired, Brianna soaked in a hot bath, too, eager to meet up afterward with Gwen and Maggie in the Great Hall for some tea, another part of their routine that Brianna absolutely loved. She’d never really liked being away from her grandfather or their home as a child, and as a result, had never attended any of the slumber parties she’d been invited to, but she felt like she was getting to experience a little bit of that here with Gwen and Maggie.
She still arranged her hair the same way she had been, since she arrived, but instead of the sleek glamour of smooth locks, now, her natural soft wavy curls gave her messy knot new meaning. Looking in the mirror at the few unruly strands that always escaped their confinement and fell about her face, Brianna had to admit it suited her much better. When she put on her favorite chemise, the one trimmed with lace that Aidan had gotten for her in Ayr, she realized she did feel better about her future here. Banishing her fears to the back of her mind, Brianna decided that she would stop waffling— the past was her present now and she was going to own it. After grabbing the robe that Gwen had given her just for these occasions, she caught another fleeting glimpse of herself in the mirror, and paused, marveling at her reflection. Brianna knew that the biggest changes were on the inside, but she liked who she saw there.
With a smile, she belted her robe and headed downstairs to join the girls, grasping the ledge on the landing when she saw the courtyard bursting with activity. She wasn’t sure how she’d missed all the commotion, but she could see Henry speaking with Alan and Richard. That must mean the men are back. Heart racing, she rushed downstairs, excited to find Aidan, but when she came into the Great Hall, he wasn’t there. She saw Gwen and Maggie already wrapped in their husbands’ arms by the fireplace, but there was no Aidan. For a moment, she panicked, struck anew with the terror that something had happened after all, that her family lore had reared its head and was taking him from her, that she’d jinxed it all by deciding moments earlier that everything would be okay.
Brianna shook her head trying not to think the worst, and had nearly given in when she heard a faraway sound. She froze. Her eyes shot to the foyer, and she held her breath hoping her mind wasn’t playing tricks on her, but then she heard it again, the familiar sound of Aidan’s heavy steps as he came inside. She turned toward the door, and there he was, Tristan in his arms and deep in conversation with Henry. She saw how his eyes swept through the hall, searching until they locked with hers. Her own eyes filled with tears as he shook his head taking her in from head to toe and back again as he put the boy gently down. Then he was striding forward, his pace quickening as she ran, throwing herself against him, surrendering to his strength as his arms wrapped around her, lifting her from the ground.
He breathed her name, rocking back and forth as they embraced, then set her down, and grasped her head, pressing his lips to hers. When they finally broke apart, he stroked the side of her face, touching her hair and shaking his head.
Suddenly self-conscious, she reached up, but he covered her hand.
“Nay,” he said, eyes misty. “’Tis beautiful, and suits you. I…I just don’t understand.”
Brianna almost laughed then, wondering how on earth she was going to explain it to him, but he didn’t seem to expect an answer at least not now, because he pulled her back into his arms, covering her lips with his again.
When they next pulled apart, it was abruptly, and Aidan was looking at her urgently, like he had suddenly recalled something.
“Breea, love?” he said, gripping her shoulders. “Where is your satchel?”
“My satchel?” she repeated, altogether confused. “What do you need that for?”
“Breea, please love, where is it? Know that this is important, or I would not be asking you now, of all nights.”
“It’s upstairs,” Brianna said, still confused as to what he would want with her bag. “We had started to pack for Dunhill, so it’s on the bench next to the wardrobe.”
Aidan turned, nodding curtly to Henry who she realized had been waiting in the foyer for this very direction, and moved now quickly for the stairs. A few minutes later Henry was back, her satchel in his arms. Aidan gave a sharp intake of breath, then grabbed Brianna by the hand, pulling her over to the sitting area, motioning for the others (since everyone was now paying attention to him) to follow. Brianna looked at Gwen and Maggie, who both just shrugged, clearly in the dark also. Aidan sat down, bringing her down to his side, and grasping both of her hands in his.
“Do you remember when I asked if you knew of the hiding place within the bags?” he said, his green eyes intently focused on hers.
“Of course, I remember,” she said, and rolled her eyes, feeling a bit unnerved. “It was only a couple weeks ago.”
“ Bri anna.”
Usually, when Aidan enunciated her name in that way while giving her a good stare, it meant he was frustrated, but this time there was a bit of amusement in his eyes. Something was up, and Brianna was so curious what it was—and what it had to do with her bag .
He stroked the side of her face, smiling as he stared deeply into her eyes. “Would you please show us the compartment you told me about?” he said, calmer this time.
Brianna nodded and knelt in front of her bag, opening it and taking out the things she’d packed so she could show them the pocket hidden underneath one of the folds on the side of the bag.
“Is there anything inside?” Aidan asked when she showed it to him.
“Well, yeah, the medallion’s still there,” she said. At the mention of the medallion, Tristan lit up and started skipping around the room.
“Could you retrieve it?” Aidan asked, his voice even, measured.
“Retrieve it?” She recoiled at the thought. Brianna hadn’t touched the medallion since they’d left Ayr. Once her fears about truly belonging in this century had started to grow, she hadn’t wanted to tempt fate. The medallion was what had brought her here, and she worried it would sweep her away, the same way the sword took Celeste back to her time, catching all of them unaware.
“You’re not going anywhere,” Aidan said, his voice softening, reading her mind.
Brianna squirmed. “Maybe Tristan should take it,” she said, figuring that would be a good compromise.
The boy went ballistic at this, clearly overjoyed at the prospect of the medallion being his.
“Right,” Aidan said, “well let’s save giving away any more of my possessions for later.” There was a hint of a smile, which was a relief in the intensity of the last few minutes, and she blushed at his (correct) accusation that she’d forgotten the medallion belonged to him. “You’re very cheeky, which I happen to adore,” he said, “ however, let’s get back to your satchel, shall we? When I asked the other week if you had checked the compartment and you seemed to know what I was referring to, I assumed you were aware of how my brethren and I use them to communicate with one another.”
She shook her head, still not understanding what he was getting at. Why did it matter whether she knew what the pocket had been used for in the past or not?
Aidan explained how they all used a recognizable marking to indicate a hidden store, be it something built into the masonry of a wall or even a walkway or entrance—or most often, a travel bag.
“Really?” Brianna asked, her historian’s mind fascinated. “That’s so clever.”
The men seemed very pleased by her praise, but Maggie was looking at Callum with an expression of shock, like something had finally dawned on her. Callum was returning her stare, nodding slowly. Brianna didn’t get much time to wonder what that was about, because Aidan knelt and pulled the bag from her arms gently. She watched first with curiosity, then with bated breath as he opened the bag wide and showed her a tiny etching deep within the recesses of the satchel, hardly noticeable if you didn’t know what you were looking for—it could even be mistaken as a flaw, she realized, marveling again at the brilliance of it all. This must be the marking he’d mentioned. Then, he pulled a flap of leather back and Brianna gasped. She’d never noticed that extra piece there at all.
“ This is what I was speaking about when I asked you,” he said, and Brianna noted a slight quaver in his voice. “I thought you knew, based on what you had said. Should I, or would you like to?”
For some reason, Brianna was suddenly scared, but she wanted to be the one to do it. Slowly, she reached inside the bag, running her fingers along the seam Aidan had revealed, and slipped them inside the opening there. She gasped again when she felt something hidden inside. With her eyes locked on Aidan’s, she pulled out not one, but three envelopes, all sealed in a waterproof sleeve. She recognized one of them, but not the others.
Aidan shook his head, his eyes filled with awe and emotion. “I cannot tell you what they are,” he said. “I can only pass along what I’ve been told—that what you need, is there.”
Brianna slid out the envelope on top and caught her breath. “This is addressed to you,” she said, hardly believing it possible. “To all of you.”
She showed the men the script which read, To My Brethren, then pressed the envelope into Aidan’s hands. She nodded, imploring him to open it. It took him a moment to crack the seal without ripping it, but once he did, he read it aloud, passing around another paper that had been folded within. Everyone was now on the floor and their circle tightened, sitting so close together they were all touching.
To my brethren, if only we’d had more time,
We were all so moved by Brianna’s unexpected presence, how interested she was in hearing our stories and of her family, that after she went off to explore for the morning, we thought nothing of the time, so very foolish in hindsight.
An envelope arrived soon after by courier from Dunhill Manor. It was from Brianna’s aunt and uncle who reside there at this time and contained a note with their express wishes that the included letter be given to Brianna posthaste. We realized time was of the essence—and that it might already be too late.
Regrettably, I must make this short, as we need to go after her, however, I’m including a portrait I sketched only yesterday. Please know, we are all well and miss each of you so very much.
God be with you,
Our love,
Dar and Celeste
There were a few smudges where tears had marred the page, and when Brianna looked up, she could see there wasn’t a dry eye in the room. They all passed the sketch around, which was of Dar and Celeste and Lachlan and their little boy, Griffin. It was so beautiful, heartbreaking, joyful, and bittersweet all at the same time .
The two remaining letters were addressed to Brianna, and written in her grandfather’s familiar looping script. The first she’d already seen—it was the one she’d read sitting in the kitchen with Dar, Celeste, and Lachlan. The second was new. She fingered the envelope as she gave everyone a few more minutes to gather themselves. When they all realized what she was doing, they waved toward her urgently, and Aidan said, “Open it.”
She took a deep breath, then cracked the seal carefully. Hands shaking, she pulled out the letter and ran her fingers over her grandfather’s favorite stationery and his flowing script. A smaller page fell out when she unfolded it. Curious, she turned her attention to it and saw that it was a very old piece of parchment, kept preserved in another clear sleeve. It took her a moment to recognize it?—
“Oh!” she gasped. “It’s one of the pages…. from the…from our family bible.”
She held it up and looked closer, her heart beating wildly as she read the tight script: Brianna O’Roarke, daughter of Arthur and Meredith ? —
She froze, staring at her parents’ names. Not only was Brianna’s name there, but her parents’ names were there as well, when none of the other entries had ever included parentage. That’s how her grandfather knew. It was meant to be distinctive, to stand out.
“Aidan,” she breathed, her voice catching and held out the page to him. “Our names are on it!”
His eyes misty, he took the paper and looked at it for himself, then gently cupped the back of her head and kissed her.
“Read the letter, love, please,” he said.
My dearest Brianna,
I pray this letter finds you in the happiest of times. I’m enclosing the page from the O’Roarke family bible, the one inscribed with your name and that of your future husband. It is my hope that by the time you receive this, you have found one another. I also wish to recount a tale to you, one that I feel is going to be quite important to you and yours. It is an accounting of sorts, of the summer a few years past (the exact number, of course, depends on when you receive this).
While you were deep in your studies, I ran into a young man while doing my research at the university. As we began to speak, he seemed oddly familiar to me, and I believe he shared my feelings. Though as I pen this letter, I cannot in good conscience say our meeting was happenstance, given everything that has happened since.
We struck up a fast friendship, this young man and I, and he grew fascinated with our family lore, asking all sorts of thoughtful questions that I was all too happy to answer. I shared with him stories of our crest and our creed, and he told me of his family, the woman he loved, and the life that they shared. After some time, he asked if he could visit our ancestral home one day to see some of our family artifacts. Had anyone else asked, I’d have been suspicious, but he was a good man, and I could tell the journey would mean something to him. And, as I already had a sabbatical to Scotland planned, I extended an invitation at once.
His trip was brief, no more than a weekend, but it changed everything. If I had not witnessed what occurred with my own eyes, I would not have thought so much of our sudden alliance months past, but that all changed when I showed him the sword. I opened the case, and at the sight of our family treasure, Derek—that was his name—was struck with such emotion that his knees nearly buckled. When he looked at me, his eyes imploring and his hand shaking as it hovered over the sword, I, of course, acquiesced. The beauty of a man grasping the hilt of a weapon that is surely his by Providence is as indescribable as it is indisputable. That sword belonged to him, at least it did in that moment, and I could not in good conscience do anything other than see it rightfully returned to him, as odd as that might seem.
I heard of his tragic death weeks later, and though we had only known one another for a brief period of time, it felt as if I had lost a beloved family member—and, Brianna, in a way, I believe nothing could be more true. I can still recall, quite vividly, asking him to wait as I quickly penned a letter to you, one that would accompany the sword he was taking with him, knowing one day you would be shocked at my actions and want to trace it. Then, I dug around my study until I found the Wolf medallion—somehow, I knew that it must go with him, too. As he made his way to the door, he paused and looked at me with a gleam in his blue eyes (a blue I only then recognized as similar to my own) and pointed quite decisively to one of the stones in the wall. “Whatever you’re looking for, my money’s on that one,” he said.
It confused me at the time—this stone, for all intent and purposes, looked no different from the others—so, imagine my surprise when later, I dug at the mortar that surrounded it and found that it easily came loose. Then I pulled it out and discovered, I believe, the very reason Pembrooke drew me that day, and I suppose you as well. I’ve enclosed it here.
Rest easy, my sweet, your days ahead will be the happiest yet. I beg you, do not waste one moment of your birthright. Just bask in that wee bit of O’Roarke magic knowing the love you share is true.
I will always be with you, my precious girl,
Your eternal grandsire,
Dougal O’Roarke
Brianna read the letter over a second time, silently, with tears falling, then again aloud at the urging of everyone in the room. Then, she passed it around, and they all took a turn, letting each word sink in and the meaning of what happened. Both Callum and Maggie seemed particularly affected, Maggie sobbing and Callum holding her close, his head bent to hers as they whispered between them.
After Maggie had calmed down a bit, talk turned to a woman the men called Esmerelda—but who Maggie referred to as “the old bat” and “crone”, respectively. It took a few minutes, but with a start, Brianna realized they were speaking about the woman who had given her the satchel, and she recalled that first night with Aidan at Seagrave, when she’d told them about her. The only person who remained silent was Gwen. She seemed to be puzzled by something, and when Greylen reached for her hand and asked what was bothering her, she shook her head.
“I think…I think the woman you’re all talking about—the one Callum and Maggie met at the fair, and maybe even Brianna’s ‘fairy godmother’, this Esmerelda person might be…my Aunt Millicent.”
“Aunt Millicent, who first took you to Abersoch?” Greylen asked, eyes wide in understanding. “And told you of the tidepools?”
Gwen nodded. “Yeah. Do you think that’s possible? That Aunt Millicent and Esmerelda are one and the same?”
For the better part of an hour, they all tried to explain what she looked like to Gwen on each occasion that they’d seen her, but they soon realized that she somehow appeared slightly different to each of them, even when they were in her company at the same time.
“How odd,” Gwen said.
“Is it? Or clever.” Greylen remarked.
“Well, I have to tell you, Aunt Millicent was a gem.” Gwen made a face, “No pun intended.”
They all chuckled, but after a moment, Brianna sighed. “I wonder if I’ll ever get to see it, the stone that is,” she said wistfully, still lying on the floor, her head on Aidan’s thigh.
“Hey,” Gwen said, trying to sit up, but wobbling until Greylen gave her a hand. “Did you have a backup plan? I mean, how were you planning to ‘woo’ your wife if you hadn’t run into whoever this Esmerelda person is?”
“You’re speaking to Sinclair of the House of Pembrooke, Gwendolyn. I can assure you I had grand plans— grand ,” Aidan said with so much fanfare that as he stared into Brianna’s eyes, she was completely taken aback. She’d forgotten how romantic he could be.
“You did?” she whispered. “Really?”
He tilted his head to the side, a gesture now that was almost an old throwback, as he regarded her curiously, but looked almost stunned, too. “Breea.” He breathed her name, clutching the back of her head, “I look forward to ‘wooing’ you every day for the rest of our lives.”
She melted, despite the grunts and snorts from the peanut gallery. Aidan pressed a kiss to her lips and still holding her, he stood, holding her hands. When they pulled apart, Aidan was looking deeply into her eyes.
“Breea,” he whispered only loud enough for her to hear, “we prevailed.”
She had a feeling this was not a part of his ‘wooing’, but something that resulted from the happy end of their plight. And when his hands swept through her hair just before he kissed her again, the room broke out in a chorus of hollers, followed by a rain of pillows, gently thrown their way.
“Hey! Come on you two. Save it for later. Aidan, get back to it.”
Aidan finally broke away, looking somewhat contrite. His expression shifted then and got serious. “Brianna—you have two choices, lass,” he said, and for a moment she was taken aback by his tone and that he’d said ‘you’ and not ‘we’.
“ I have two choices? What happened to we?” she said, taking a step back.
“I’m battling for legacy here,” he said, clearly exasperated. “And as I never questioned the sanctity of our union, I hope to show you the error of your ways—the sooner, the better.”
Brianna didn’t know what to think. Sure, he had a point, but he was taking all of this very seriously all of a sudden.
“Okay, then…one??” she asked, but so hesitantly that Aidan sighed and his oh-so-serious expression faded for a moment.
“Breea, love. I’m merely acting,” he said, then arranged his face back into a mask of intensity.
She smiled, loving how they’d fallen back into their easy rapport. After taking a deep and calming breath, she grinned and repeated with a bit more bravado. “One?”
“You will stay here with me and let me love you like I was meant to for the rest of our days.”
Brianna rolled her eyes. Obviously, she would pick one, why on earth would she even need to go on ?
“I’m aware of the flaws in all of this, now that you needn’t be convinced any longer,” he said, “but play along, aye?”
“Okay, but I really, really like option one,” she said, then gave a dramatic sigh. “But, two?”
He looked at her so seriously then, staring deeply into her eyes, so silent, she started to regret asking. Until he mouthed the word ‘acting’ and she breathed again, startling when he bellowed, “Henry!” This caused both Gwen and Maggie to startle, and Brianna even sucked in a breath herself, squeezing his hands for support, because she suddenly felt so off-balance. It was hard to remember this was an act, because when Henry pivoted on his heels, it was with such fanfare, that it rivaled any changing of the guard she’d ever seen. His boots echoed loudly as he strode across the foyer, and all the while, Aidan just stared down at her, his mouth set in a straight line, his look deadly serious. She watched the doors swing open just as Henry grew near as if on cue, and clutched Aidan’s hands tighter, seriously starting to freak out. Acting, right ? But when she looked up at him, his expression was still unreadable.
She gasped when Henry stopped atop the steps and reached for his sword, slicing it through the air before raising it to the heavens. A cry escaped her lips and she covered her mouth…then Henry bellowed?—
“ RELEASE THE DRAGONS! ”
Brianna was so stunned she stood there frozen for a moment, then let out a laugh as the tension whooshed from her body. It could have been straight out of a movie. She gave Aidan a quizzical look, wondering if he knew what he was doing.
He stepped closer to her. “Don’t you know by now, I would do anything to prove that you’re meant to be here, with me?” he said, grasping her head in his hands.
God, she loved when he did that.
“How very clever of you, Mr. Sinclair,” she breathed. She’d intended it to be another one of their quips, but she nearly melted at the love she saw in his eyes. “Will you take me home then? So I can finally see Pembrooke as it was meant to be seen?”
He smiled from ear to ear, and nodded, but said, “Not a chance, love?—”
“ Wait —what?”
“We leave at first light for Dunhill, where Father Michael will marry us officially , and so your overbearing guardian Callum can scribe our names in the family bible.”
“Great, yes, but then?—”
Then he kissed her.