Chapter Thirty-Five

A short time later, Irene was still smiling over Ann’s words as she changed her clothes for the Christmas Eve celebrations. The men had all returned and helped lock up Sam, Cory, Dave, and Alex. When that was done, they confirmed that the neighboring clans were abiding by the truce. Lady Roselyn had more good news. She and her sisters gathered everyone together in the Great Hall and made their announcement.

A wedding was taking place after all. A roar of excitement spread through the Great Hall and reached a fever pitch when she added that everyone needed to change into fresh clothes that fit the festive occasion. After all that had happened, people were ready for a party.

The matchmaker sisters had transformed one of the spare chambers off the Great Hall into a fantasy world of gowns, jewels, and veils. The clothes glowed in vibrant greens, golds, blues, reds, and silver so bright they outshone the stars. Tiaras inlaid with sapphires, emeralds, and diamonds rested on velvet cushions, next to displays of semi-precious stone pendants, necklaces, earrings, and bracelets. It looked as though someone had transported the crown jewels of England to Stirling Castle.

Lady Roselyn informed them that brides seldom wore white, as color was a sign of good fortune. And as an added bonus, for tonight’s celebrations they could forego wearing the thirteenth-century headgear.

Julia exchanged her red gown for one in a shade of blue the same color as Grant’s eyes, while Irene smoothed her hand over the green velvet confection she had chosen that was so beautiful she felt like she was the queen of a small kingdom. She added a pair of emerald earrings and selected a narrow gold crown for her head. It was a little indulgent, but tonight was made for dreams.

Irene twirled in a slow circle, mesmerized by how the fabric caught the candlelight. She felt more alive than she had in years. Her heart swelled. She wouldn’t have met Logan if she hadn’t sought answers to the pendant and her mother’s secrets. Had her mother guessed all along that this could happen?

There was something about this place. It was more than the time travel aspect—it was the whole atmosphere that the matchmaker sisters had created. The distractions of the outside world had melted away, helping bring clarity to the lives of those who had open hearts. The crushing symptoms of Ann’s disease had disappeared. She was clearheaded and laughed often, and Sean said it was as though they were both young again. Julia and Grant seemed to grow more in love by the second, and she and Logan…

She smiled like a child on Christmas morning, then glanced around to see if anyone had noticed her standing in the center of the room, smiling like a fool. But she wasn’t the only one in a holiday mood. Julia was humming and trying on tiaras, and Ann had discarded her black dress for one that reflected the bridal gowns in the thirteenth century, a rich burgundy silk embroidered with gold and silver threads. The fabric shimmered when she walked, as though her dress was lit with tiny lights.

Sean had given her a jewelry box, and she’d opened it and touched the ruby pendant that hung from a gold chain.

“May I help you put it on?” Irene asked. When Ann nodded, Irene lifted the gem from its nesting place. “The necklace is stunning.”

Ann touched the fire-red stone and whispered, “The glowing ruby should adorn those who in warm July are born.” She smiled. “A silly saying, I know, but Sean found it while we were still in school. He loved that rubies were my birthstone.” Ann showed Irene her wedding ring: a princess-cut diamond surrounded by rubies. “His favorite saying was, ‘A person wearing a ruby would never doubt that they are loved.’ ”

Irene finished clasping the necklace and came around to face Ann. “That is one of the most beautiful sayings I’ve ever heard.”

Ann’s laugh was fresh and clear, like water over a babbling brook. “I think he made it up, but I never said so. In our case, at least the saying fits.” Ann smiled again. “You mother’s locket is lovely.”

Irene touched it protectively. “Fiona called it that, as well, but it’s only a pendant. There aren’t any seams.”

Ann’s smile was gentle. “I recognize the style from my research books. The seams are hidden behind the spokes of the snowflake. If you like, I can show you how it opens.”

Irene nodded slowly as Ann slid the tip of her fingernail into an almost invisible seam. The lid popped open, and Ann’s smile spread like morning sunshine over a meadow. “What a charming couple, and the gentleman is so handsome.”

Julia peered over Irene’s shoulder. “I can see the resemblance. Is he your father?”

Irene felt as though a breeze had swept over her skin. The woman in the picture was her mother, and she was dressed in the same gown as the one in the portrait Logan had discovered. And Ann was right. There was a resemblance between herself and the man in the picture. If this was her father, why hadn’t her mother shown her his picture?

Lady Roselyn peeked her head into the room. “We’re about to begin. Come along, ladies. You don’t want to miss your wedding.”

But Irene and Logan weren’t the bride and groom. Lady Roselyn had declared Sean and Ann were renewing their vows. Sean attributed the miracle of Ann’s healing to the enchantment of Stirling Castle and said that if they left, Ann’s Alzheimer’s would return. They vowed to make every moment count. Logan was his father’s best man, and Ann had asked Irene to be her maid of honor.

Logan announced he’d wanted to make it a double wedding, but his mother had intervened, saying Logan and Irene should start their life in the present. Ann was right, of course, but Irene was surprised by the disappointment that washed over her and mentally took herself to task. After all, she’d just met the man. They hardly knew each other.

A crowd had gathered and was waiting expectantly. On Lady Roselyn’s cue, bagpipes began a traditional wedding song, “Scotland the Brave.” The notes infused the air with the haunting melody of the tragedies and triumphs, sorrows and romance that were the history and strength of Scotland. Ann clasped her hands in joy, and Julia gave her a hug, but Irene felt rooted to the floor. Avoiding what Julia had said about the picture, Irene concentrated on taking slow, even breaths.

The melody vibrated through her, the music a strange exclamation mark to Julia’s words. Is he your father? In a numbing trance, Irene helped Julia fan out the train on Ann’s gown.

“Are you all right?” Julia whispered.

Irene jerked a nod. “Bagpipes. The sound caught me off guard.”

Julia motioned to the pipers as they marched in place waiting for Ann. “Or maybe it was one of those men playing the bagpipes,” she said with a grin. “I didn’t know Logan played.”

Irene snapped her gaze to the group and saw, sure enough, Logan was one of the pipers. He winked, and his eyes crinkled in a smile as Ann took her place. Fiona handed out garlands of graceful strands of wheat dusted with gold and crystal-like snowflakes made from sheets of silver foil. She directed Irene, Julia, and Caitlin to stand behind Ann. Once everyone was in place, the procession turned in the direction of the castle’s interior Chapel Royal.

Laying her bundle of golden wheat in the crux of her arm, Irene stepped in behind Ann. Irene’s thoughts flew about her in a thousand different directions at the same time, even as she concentrated on the music, on taking one step at a time. Was Julia right? Was the picture in the locket of her father? But even as she revisited the question, she knew the answer. The portrait she’d seen of her mother proved she was at Stirling Castle and had participated in the sisters’ tour. The picture in the locket proved that her mother had met someone. Was the man Connor? The man her mother had mentioned in her diary? Why hadn’t her mother stayed? Was her father still alive? Why had her mother kept it a secret?

Irene stumbled.

Logan was at her side, his hand on her arm, as the procession weaved past her. His expression was a vision of concern.

“I’m fine,” Irene mumbled.

“No, you’re not.”

“Please. Go on without me,” Irene said.

He gazed toward the procession as it turned down a corridor. “One less piper won’t be missed.”

“But you’re the best man. Your parents…”

“They will understand. Tell me.”

Her eyes blurred as she covered the locket with her hand. “I think my father was here, and that my mother and he…”

He wiped a tear from her face and smiled. “They found love, if only for a short time. That’s very romantic.”

“But my sister and I never knew him. Why didn’t she tell us? Was he part of this century? Why didn’t she stay?”

Logan shifted the weight of his bagpipes and threaded his arm around her waist, drawing her to him. His kiss was a feather-soft promise. “Your parents had their reasons for keeping their secrets. Maybe that’s why your mother only gave you her diary after she’d died. Maybe she was afraid she’d be judged for falling in love. I believe it’s enough to know that they loved each other. Don’t you?”