Chapter Nine

An hour and a half later, Bridget checked on the guests. They were still asleep. At least something was going right. She raced into the Great Hall and slid to a stop on the polished floor just as her sister, Lady Roselyn, was finishing her speech.

Half listening, Bridget waited until her sister had finished. Those gathered were a handful of castle inhabitants who had direct contact with the guests, while many more who were not present acted as support. The matchmakers believed that everyone, from cook to knight to invited guest, should have the opportunity to be part of the magic. There were always variations on the speech, depending on the group, but over the years the theme hadn’t changed. It always began with: “Put your troubles and worries aside, enjoy the adventure,” and finished with, “Let love in.”

Bridget remembered listening to her grandmother and mother as they made this speech. In those days, she had dreamed of the time when she and her sisters could step into the family tradition. Her grandmother and mother had made it look easy.

As Lady Roselyn finished and was answering questions, Bridget stepped forward and lowered her voice. “Can I speak with you privately?”

Lady Roselyn kept her smile in place. “Can’t it wait?”

“We have uninvited guests.”

To her sister’s credit, Lady Roselyn’s expression never wavered. The only indication that she understood the severity of their situation was a slight narrowing of her gaze. “How many?”

“Three.”

“Are they…contained?”

Bridget gave a sharp nod. “Fiona has them under guard.”

Lady Roselyn apologized to the group with a promise that she’d “Be right back.”

Bridget motioned for her sister to follow her. That Lady Roselyn’s farewell had been clipped as well as cliché had not escaped notice. A few of the staff exchanged glances or rolled their eyes before heading toward their assigned stations.

Bridget and her sister entered the chamber, behind the Great Hall, that the sisters used as their office. At first glance it resembled every other chamber in the castle. There was an oversized fireplace, period furniture, and rolls of parchment documents and maps, as well as books that had been handwritten and illuminated by nuns or monks. The tapestries that hung on the wall to chase out the damp and cold completed the illusion that this was a chamber like all the others in the castle.

Things were not always as they seemed.

The images on the tapestries weren’t of pastoral scenes and people frolicking over meadows, or recreations of gruesome battles, they were of doors and gateways. Entrances to gardens, to Egyptian pyramids, to castles, to Asian and European palaces… From the ornate to the plain, the woven images of doors, so life-like in every detail, looked as though they could open.

When the sisters entered, Lady Roselyn walked calmly toward her desk. “I’ve decided you’ve overreacted. These people you and your sister have detained will turn out to be part of the castle’s staff. We’ve all been working too hard. We need a vacation. Someplace warm.”

Bridget understood her sister’s reluctance. There was no room for mistakes. The slightest deviation had a domino effect. But facts were still facts. “If we get through unscathed, I’ll hold you to your vacation speech. When the men were apprehended, Liam locked them in the dungeon.”

“The dungeon?” Lady Roselyn’s response came out in a squeak.

“We didn’t have a choice.” Bridget spread a tapestry aside, revealing an entrance to one of the passageways that crisscrossed behind the castle walls. Taking a torch from the wall, she descended the staircase.

“I don’t like this place,” Lady Roselyn said behind Bridget. “I think these passageways are haunted.”

“There aren’t any ghosts. Mother said she checked.”

“We were children,” Lady Roselyn said. “What was she supposed to say?”

A short time later, they reached the dungeon, which spread like a rabbit warren beneath the castle. Sword drawn, Fiona kept watch over an iron grate on the stone floor. The grate was placed in the ceiling of a large cell. Below, three men, dressed in costumes of the thirteenth century, feasted on pork roast, ham, and an assortment of breads and cheese.

“For the love of chocolate,” Lady Roselyn said, “Fiona. Put away your weapon. I swear you grow more like our grandmother every day.” Lady Roselyn peered closer. “I recognize those beady eyes. Those are the men who caused so much trouble in the café earlier today. I had them removed. How did they get back in here?”

Fiona set the sword on a wall bracket next to other medieval weapons. “They pretended to be part of the staff. It wasn’t until they were here that someone noticed and reported them to Liam. We didn’t know where else to put them.”

“You’ve made them comfortable, at least. Can they see us?”

Fiona shook her head. “They’ve been quiet so far. Liam said they gave up without a fuss.”

“Well, what’s done is done. They’ll just have to remain here until after the wedding on Christmas Eve.”

“They’ll want to sue us when this is all over,” Bridget said.

“Tell them they will have to stand in line.”