Chapter Thirty-Two

The meeting left an unsettled taste in everyone’s mouth. The only conclusion was that Sam and his friends had to be stopped. What was left unsaid was what to do about a wedding.

The sisters had left Irene and Logan alone after they’d made one more plea for them to wed. Irene sat beside Logan in silence in their balcony overlooking the Great Hall. Irene had come to think of this spot as theirs. Fresh-cut tree boughs were draped over the rim of the balcony’s railing. Their pine scent created a forest-like retreat that shielded them from the frantic hum below.

Logan took her hand in his and rubbed his thumb gently across it.

She knew Logan must be thinking about the consequences to his mother. No one could deny that she was getting better, but if there wasn’t a wedding, would all that change? What would Irene have done if she had thought there was a way to reverse her mother’s cancer? Just about anything, was the swift response.

She turned toward him. “There are only a few hours left until midnight…”

He let go of her hand and leaned his elbows against the railing. The boughs crushed under his touch and sent the fragrance of a forest wafting toward her. The smell was crisp and clean and clear. She edged toward him, knowing in that moment what must be done.

“What if Bridget is right, and this place is healing your mother? And if that weren’t enough, there’s a real chance all of us will be stuck here in the thirteenth century. I know that last part sounds very romantic. You’ll get to learn how to use a sword. I’ll get to wear long flowy dresses. Of course, there aren’t any bathrooms or showers.” She paused, going for Logan-style humor. “On the bright side, maybe you’re the one who’ll invent rugby. You could name it Logan.”

He tilted his head toward her and laughed under his breath. “Wouldn’t that be something? Very tempting. I’m not sure where the name originated, but men and women have been playing ball games long before Greek and Roman times. I think the first official rugby match was in Scotland in the 1850s. If I was stuck here forever, a rugby team would be top priority for sure. Who knows? It might take over as the national sport, knocking out European football. But you didn’t want a history lesson on the sport. You were about to make a point.”

She swallowed, gathering her courage. “The only solution is for us to get married.”

He laced his hands together, and glanced toward the activity below. “Are you always this logical?”

“I know you’ve reached the same conclusion.” She allowed the words to settle around them. She’d opened up the idea for discussion. Some might say they’d be marrying for all the wrong reasons. But how could that be the case, if the reason was unselfish? And then another argument broke through. “But you heard the sisters. It has to be true love, the kind that will last forever.”

“One of my friends is in an arranged marriage,” Logan said, still focused on what was happening in the Great Hall. “He’s from India, and his family is very traditional. He’s a neurosurgeon, and all he asked was that his bride have a similar family background and education level. He got his wish. She’s a pediatrician, and he looks at her in the same way my dad looks at my mom. I know not all arranged marriages are successful, but neither are the other kinds. To love someone is to take a leap of faith.”

His words settled around her like a warm cloak, shutting out the clamor of activity below. She didn’t know how her mother had felt about her biological father. Her mother never mentioned him other than to say he’d died before Irene and Louise were born. Irene, however, had seen firsthand the relationship between her mother and stepfather. It was comfortable, companionable. Her mother had seemed content, and her stepfather had spoken only loving words about her. Movies and books spoke of opposites attracting or passions generated by volatile relationships, but that was the movies; this was real life. As it had for Logan’s friend, love bloomed in many ways.

Feeling it was time he knew more about her, she let her words tumble out in a rush. “I knew my fiancé five years before we got engaged, but I don’t think I ever really knew him or what he wanted out of life. I broke it off with him a few weeks before this trip.”

“My wife and I were high school and college sweethearts. The marriage lasted a whole nine weeks.” His mouth tugged at the corner in a bitter smile. “It looks like we’ve blown out of the water the theory that long courtships make for successful relationships.”

Laughter erupted between them, easing the tension, but it dissipated as quickly as it had begun. Silence weaved around them until the lack of sound was deafening.

Logan glanced over at her, his gaze intent. “Will you marry me?”

Irene drew in a breath. “Yes.” Then shook her head. “Whoa, that came out fast. When Chad asked me, I didn’t give him an answer for two weeks.”

Logan squeezed her hand. “Since you answered me right away, I’m guessing that’s a good sign.”

“What about your parents? What will they say?”

“They already think you’re perfect and gave me strict instructions not to mess things up. They’ll be thrilled.”

Irene leaned against his shoulder as silence descended around them again. “What if this doesn’t work?”

He didn’t respond.