Chapter Fifteen

Logan stood at the open window. Clouds had moved in and blocked out the moon and stars. A light flickered in the distance, but otherwise it was pitch black. Even though the night was calm, he couldn’t shake his unease. It must be his detective training. There were things about this place that didn’t add up. For one, he’d never seen a reenactment this accurate. When he was a professional rugby player, before he’d blown out his knee for the third time, he’d stayed in the city of Stirling. Never once had he heard about this tour.

He wasn’t having second thoughts about bringing his parents here for Christmas. His mother was in the mid-stages of Alzheimer’s, and there had been signs that things were about to change for the worse. So when, out of the blue, she’d suggested this trip and particularly this tour, he and his dad had booked train tickets that same afternoon.

Now, with each hour that passed, his mother seemed to improve, which had him tipped upside down. There were moments of clarity, like when she had told him Irene’s name, or argued that she wanted to help Julia, or just a few minutes ago discussed the meal she’d had on the train to Stirling. He shook his head in frustration. He couldn’t remember what he’d eaten. How had she?

“May I join you?”

Logan would have recognized that voice anywhere. He knew he was grinning like a kid at a comic book convention, but he couldn’t help it. Irene had that effect on him. He nodded and made room for her by the window. “How is Julia?”

“Actually, I think she’s going to be fine. Grant is with her. Did you know they are friends?”

“Makes sense. Julia was all he talked about when we were getting ready. I thought he’d trip over his tongue when he first saw her in that red dress.”

Irene smiled. “Well, I think Julia is starting to realize she likes him, as well. How’s your mother?”

He liked that Irene had asked. Most women had other topics on their agenda, like which car they wanted him to pick them up in, or what he was giving them for their birthday.

Thinking about where his mother was right now broadened his smile. “Lady Roselyn said that with Caitlin thinking of ways to turn her ex-fiancé into a live pincushion, it would be a good time for a break. She gave everyone assignments. My father is helping out in the kitchens. He’s the chef in the family and jumped at the chance. Caitlin was too much of a mess to do anything, so Bridget took her under her wing. Lady Roselyn said she had the perfect distraction for my mother. Something about tapestries, needlepoint, and looms. My attention wandered when she started discussing how the colors in the yarn were made and how many types of stitches there were. Thankfully she gave me guard duty, but it’s so quiet all I hear are crickets.”

Irene leaned against the stone windowsill. The breeze coming through the open window caressed her hair, easing it away from her face. “I ran into Lady Roselyn for a few minutes when I was leaving Julia, and she asked me if I wanted to join them. Learning how to make tapestries is one of those things that sounds cool, like knitting sweaters or weaving a blanket, but my sewing skills are abysmal. When I lose a button on a blouse, if I can’t keep it closed with a safety pin or duct tape, I buy a new one. Very sad.”

He smiled at her joke. He couldn’t stop staring. Her profile was outlined in torchlight. He’d never seen anyone more lovely. She was all soft and pastel around the edges, with a strong inner core. He’d noticed that confidence at the café. If he hadn’t stepped in to confront the trio of idiots harassing Bridget, he knew Irene had been poised to intervene. That was when he first really noticed her. She hadn’t cared that she would have been outnumbered. All that mattered was that someone needed help.

“I’m glad you didn’t go with them.” His words hung in the air briefly before being swept away by the breeze. “Are you cold?” he said.

She shook her head and studied her hands as they rested on the ledge. “I’m glad I’m here with you. And I’m having fun on the tour. That’s unexpected.”

“I’m as surprised as you. Shocked, in fact. My mother always wanted to go to Scotland, and when her doctors told us that…” He paused for a deep breath before he continued. “Well, this seemed like the perfect time. If you don’t mind my asking, why are you here on Christmas Eve?”

“You mean alone, without a family?” She seemed to be wrestling with a decision. When her expression lightened, he sensed she was beginning to trust him. “My mother died on Christmas Eve, and I’m trying to find out why this castle was so important to her.”