Chapter Sixteen

Logan had slipped his hand in hers. It enveloped her with warmth. For all his strength, he didn’t seem threatening. She wondered if anyone had ever given him the name Gentle Giant.

She was no petite, delicate flower herself. She’d played volleyball in high school and college and had continued on a recreation team for the law firm. Most men were intimidated by her height, which her mother had always believed was a good thing. Her mother also preached that insecure men were high maintenance and should be avoided at all cost. Irene should have taken her advice.

“I should probably check on my mother,” Logan said.

She liked that he cared enough to want to look after Ann. Irene leaned a little closer to him as they moved down a corridor.

“You no doubt guessed,” he continued, “my mother has Alzheimer’s.” He winced. “I wish you could have known her before she became ill.”

“Tell me about her.”

“Where to begin? She was a history teacher. I think that’s the reason she wanted to come here. She loves everything medieval.”

Irene thought about sharing that her mother and his had a lot in common, but paused when she noticed Logan’s mother in a well-lit room. He’d noticed her, as well, and stood beside the doorway.

Candlelight illuminated every corner of the room. A fireplace added more light as well as warmth. In the center of the room, Logan’s mother was operating a loom under Lady Roselyn’s watchful care. Yarn flew under Ann’s skillful hands, and the patterns and colors created were stunning. But it wasn’t the skill that took Irene by surprise: it was the expression on Ann’s face.

She was laughing and chatting with Lady Roselyn as though they were old friends, and she looked a good ten to fifteen years younger. There was a glow about her that was hard to miss.

“Mother?” Logan said, entering the room as though he were walking on eggshells.

Ann’s smile grew even more radiant as she turned toward him. “Son, you’ve grown so tall.”

“Ann looks amazing,” Irene said to Lady Roselyn.

Lady Roselyn’s smile was unguarded and lit up her expression. Still smiling, she turned toward Irene. “Stirling Castle can have that effect on our guests. We’ll leave mother and son alone while they catch up. Come. We’re expected in the Great Hall.”