Chapter 14
Chapter 14
Ardchattan Priory, 1498
“Well, lads, that’s it, the MacDougall Cross. Made to honor our King and the MacDougalls buried here.” Father Egan MacDougall, Prior at Ardchattan, strolled along the walkway in the gardens outside the chapel.
John and his da strolled with Father MacDougall, who shrugged. “I still don’t understand how any priest believed a stone could appear from our cross. It may be, as you say, he’s gone mad.”
John glanced back at the cross, whole in this century. He still remembered the future version clearly in his mind—several areas cracked, and portions had broken off. John blinked, and the cross in front of him was new.
John turned to his da, who shook his head. He stayed quiet—say nothing. If he told them any facts about the future, too many parts of history might change. He and his da were not there to change history, only to retrieve the stone and rescue Marie.
Behind his da, John Douglas MacDougall, the captain of the castle, positioned a group of highland warriors around the garden area to lie in wait for when Marie and the priest arrived.
Prior MacDougall spoke and took John out of his musings. “Ye say he kidnapped yer woman?” The prior shook his head. “Such a shame. He’s had her for how long now?”
John stared in the distance across Loch Etive. Marie. “Five days—five long days.”
John’s da patted him on the back.
Prior MacDougall folded his arms into his robes. “Such a shame. She’s likely compromised. Now he’s ruined her. We can make a place for her here as a nun.”
John’s gaze snapped to the prior. “No, she won’t become a nun.”
The prior stopped and glared at John. “Why, my son, certainly if he compromised her, ye will want a different bride?”
John grabbed the man by his robes. “She will come home with me. I love her, and I will marry her. She will never be a nun.”
John’s da grabbed him from behind and yanked him off the clergy. “Now, son, no need to get angry at the man. He’s just doing his duty.”
Prior MacDougall shook himself and scowled at John.
John didn’t care if he offended the clergyman. Marie remained his love, and they would go home together.
“I see ye have powerful feelings for her. As ye wish.”
They strolled along the walkway, the lush gardens in spring a stark contrast to the cold settled in John’s heart. Marie. He sent a silent prayer to God. Please let her be okay. He didn’t care what the damned insane priest did to her. He would do whatever she needed to see her healed. He just wanted Marie back.
A monk approached Prior MacDougall. “Father, the couple ye are waiting for has arrived.”
John advanced toward the monk and quickly spoke. “The woman, is she okay?”
The monk nodded. “The woman is unharmed.”
The monk turned back to the prior. “But the man is impatient and demanding. Refused to wait in yer study.”
Thank God she remained unharmed. John stood there a moment and gained control of his breathing to calm himself.
His father tapped his arm and nodded to the bushes.
John strode toward his hiding place, but Prior MacDougall stopped them with his hand. “I’ll try to see if I can separate them. Get her in my study so we can have her out of harm’s way. Remember, no killing on holy ground.”
John nodded. “Try if ye can, but if not, we’ll take it from here.”
The prior made the sign of the cross before John, then his father. “God go with ye, my son. Trust in Him.”
John nodded, and the prior strode back to the main building, his robes flapping in his haste.
John settled near a wall area close to the walkway, with a clear view of the MacDougall cross. He glanced around. The warriors were all in place. Their plan must succeed without harming Marie. He glimpsed behind him at his da, who nodded. He nodded in return. All was ready. Now they waited.
He took a deep breath. Marie came so close he almost felt her. John closed his eyes, and a memory slid into his mind, the night before the maniac kidnapped her, the night he professed his love.
****
“A brooch? Complete except for the stones,” Marie exclaimed. They sat in the kitchen for a casual, quiet dinner.
Marie filled him in on her most recent find. “I’m so glad Bree and I agreed to start a small excavation site to find historical items where we surmised the small village rested. It seems our work paid off, and our goal is to get the next project for the castle, Chapel Hill, ‘quick listed’ by the Historic Environment of Scotland, a success!”
Over dinner, they discussed a new, fascinating item, and Marie’s excitement became evident. “Aye, an old brooch. I believe it’s The Brooch of Lorne. We found it in a rotted chest, but the pin being gold was well preserved.”
John smiled as Marie’s eyes lit up when she spoke. Bree did the same thing, but when they were together, they chatted like magpies.
“The brooch is one of three West Highland sixteenth-century silver turreted brooches centered on charm stones. However, historians believe the brooches to be a resetting of magic stones already possessing reputations. The others are the Lochbuie Brooch in the British Museum and the Lossit Brooch, still in private hands.”
Marie grew animated as she discussed her find. Her arm went wide and waved in the air. “Here’s what’s interesting. This pin not only holds one stone but two. The other brooches have compartments to hide sacred items behind the gemstone, but this one holds a heart-shaped stone on the back and an oval stone on top, layering the stones together.”
Marie shifted her hands and placed them one over the other as she showed the different layers.
John smiled; she loved history and became so caught up in it.
“Bree and I believe the heart-shaped stone is the Stone of Love, but we cannot figure out which of the Stones of Iona the top stone might be or if they are interchangeable.”
John nodded. “I will send the brooch to the Historical Society of Scotland and see what they can tell ye of it.”
Marie smiled. “I already called them. Bree took it to Edinburgh when she left. We are both so excited about this find.”
Marie sat back in her chair. “We looked it up, then cataloged the item for the society. The Brooch of Lorne, it’s a MacDougall brooch lost after 1306. The Battle of Dalrigh occurred when John of Argyll, chief of the Clan MacDougall, ambushed Robert the Bruce of Scotland, where he ripped Bruce’s cloak off and kept the brooch for the family. Gosh, it would be so cool to see that.”
Time travel again?
John laughed. “No, it wouldn’t. We won’t see any more time travel. The one-time of Colin and Bree’s remained enough of a strain on us all. Plus, the Fae haven’t been active, and the Fae Fable Book sits back in its case. All is well and good.”
Marie glanced down, unexpectedly quiet. Why had she gone quiet? Was she worried about the find? Bree shared all the credit with her for every discovery thus far.
John lifted her chin till her eyes met his. “It’s a wonderful find, and ye will get credit for it.” He kissed her and then rose to gather the dishes.
Marie quietly sat while John cleared the dishes. Every so often, he peeked at her. Her behavior this evening seemed unusual, especially for a typically very chatty woman.
He grabbed his wine and kissed her softly. “Come, let’s sit before the fire in the Hall. Relax for a while.”
Marie took her glass as John led her to their favored spot in the Great Hall. They settled into the couch. John pulled Marie into his arms as they sipped wine, and the flames danced, casting shadows around the room.
Things between them grew into a routine over the past few months. She chose to live at the castle halfway through the last project, and he insisted she stay, knowing the new project started soon. While they had few long-term conversations, they hadn’t cemented any firm plans. John tried to devise a way to speak about it, a more permanent arrangement for them, and he became tongue-tied.
Marie opened her mouth, then stopped. She sighed and sipped her wine. This wasn’t his outspoken Marie at all.
He leaned over. “Ye look like a fish out of water. Do ye have something to say, Marie?”
She sat back and spoke softly. “John, if something were to happen. Um, something like what happened to Bree. Would ye come for me?”
John barked a laugh and turned his answer into a joke. “Well, now, would I? A trip in time, that’s an awfully long way, sweetie.” John sipped his wine. Nothing had happened with the Fae. Certainly, she joked.
She paused and took a deep breath, then glanced at him. “W-well, if it were to happen, for real. Would ye come and get me?”
John choked on his wine. “What do ye mean by that? Nothing like that is going to happen.”
Marie bit her nail and gazed into the flames.
John set his glass on the table, took her glass, and set it down.
He took her hands into his. “Marie, there’s been no Fae activity since Colin and Bree returned. The Fae Fable Book is back on the Corinthians quote. Nothing is going to happen. I won’t let it.”
Marie glanced away, then back at him. “What if something did happen? Would ye come for me?”
John caressed her cheek. “Aye, I’d come for ye.”
He kissed her softly and gazed into her eyes. “I’d go anywhere, overcome any obstacle, go to any time. All for ye.”
Marie smiled and kissed him back. John deepened the kiss and rested his forehead against hers. Now is the time. Tell her now.
He took a deep breath. In for a farthing, in for a pound. “I’ve been trying to find a way to ask ye, but words sometimes fail me.”
Marie gazed at him. “Aye, John?”
He wanted to say something poetic, something romantic. He wasn’t always good with words and wanted to make this memorable for Marie. He chastised himself for not planning this better, but emotions always got the best of him.
He struggled to find romantic words of love which swept her off her feet, but what came out was, “Marie, what did the infatuated boy volcano say to the beautiful girl volcano?”
Marie giggled and replied. “It’s a sediment?”
John huffed a laugh, but that wasn’t what he wanted to say. “Nice try.”
He took a deep breath and tried again. “I lava ye.”
Marie sat for a moment as John held his breath. Maybe she didn’t realize what he tried to say. She mouthed the words, and when she got to lava, she mouthed love. Her gaze snapped to his.
Marie laughed and threw her arms around him. “I lava ye too, John.”
He fell back on the couch and held her in his arms. “I want ye to stay here forever, Marie. I want ye to be my wife.”
Marie stopped and gaped into his eyes. “Ye mean it? Marry ye?”
John nodded. “I don’t have a ring yet. I wanted to allow ye to pick out yer ring as ye are so specific about rocks. I wanted to let ye pick yer stone.”
Marie’s eyes teared up. “Oh, John, I love ye.”
He gathered her in his arms, “I love ye too.”
****
Yelling roused John from his memory. Abbott MacDougall approached with another man who shouted his demands. The priest and Marie had arrived.
Soon he would have her in his arms.