Mal joined them and whistled under his breath. “Bloody hell, ye dinna do things by halves do ye?”
“What do ye mean?”
“This morning ye swore ye would find a way to stop the raids. This afternoon ye ride home with a MacFinnan spellweaver. I dinna think ye could have caused more of a stir if ye had ridden home havinggrown horns and a tail.”
It was true that an excited hubbub filled the bailey—the kind of enthusiastic clamor that had been missing from Dun Tabor for many a month. His people were talking among themselves, gesticulating at the door through which Jenna had gone, and shooting him awe-filled looks.
Ah, damn it. Perhaps he’d underestimated the impact that bringing Jenna might have on Dun Tabor. MacFinnan spellweavers were a legend on Skye, most people assigning them the status of myth, and now here he was riding through the gate with one of them. No matter. The lass would do what he’d brought her here to do, he would pay her the agreed fee, and she would go home. Then Dun Tabor could go back to life as usual.
Life as usual?he thought.I’m not sure what that is any more.
What would he do with his time if he wasn’t constantly scouting his lands, fighting off invaders, or training his warriors? Perhaps he would finally have time to settle down, find a wife, and give his mother those grandchildren she was always badgering him about.
“Ye are going to have to tell them something,” Mal said.
“Eh?”
Mal nodded at the people filling the bailey. “Ye are going to have to tell them how it is ye have returned with a MacFinnan spellweaver and where ye found her. If ye dinna tell them something, then ye can be sure the gossips will and before ye know it, the whole island will be abuzz with wild tales and outlandish rumors.”
Arran found himself reluctant to talk about his encounter with Lir and his subsequent trip through time. It was uncomfortable to think about, and part of him still couldn’t quite believe it had been real. How could he expect his people to understand something he didn’t understand himself? But Mal was right. He needed to tell them something if he didn’t want tongues wagging with all sorts of mischief.
“Fine. Tell everyone the laird will be attending the evening mealtonight where he’ll address them.”
Mal clapped him on the shoulder. “I’ll put the word out. I look forward to hearing yer tale.”
Aye, Arran thought, as Mal walked off. He had quite the tale to tell. Question was: would it have a happy ending?
Chapter Five
Jenna tossed andturned on the bed, trying to get some rest. Rest? Ha! Chance would be a fine thing. How was she supposed to rest when a million thoughts were chasing each other through her head like startled rabbits?
She’d tried closing her eyes but every time she did she saw Arran’s face in her mind’s eye sayingyou will restore the magic and save my people.She’d tried pacing up and down in her room to tire herself out but all that did was bring her close to the window through which she could see the Highlands of fifteenth century Scotland spreading out. That made things worse. She’d tried mantra meditation to clear her mind but each time she did, her mantra just turned into a slew of voices.
Sorry, your loan application has been denied.
Ye will restore the magic and save my people.
You are too good for Alex anyway. He didn’t deserve you.
Aargh!
She thumped her fists onto the bed, staring up at the underside of the canopy that covered it. It was a huge four-poster affair, easily big enough to sleep four people and just about the most luxurious bed she’d ever seen. The same went for the room she’d been given. Although “suite” would probably be a more accurate term as there were three rooms in all.
Aside from this large, lavishly furnished bedroom, there was asitting room that boasted a fireplace large enough to stand in, dark wood furniture polished until it gleamed, and a rug so thick that her feet sank into it whenever she stepped on it. Finally, there was even a smaller chamber that housed another fireplace with a large metal tub seated in front of it that she guessed was this era’s equivalent to a bathroom.
It was not at all what she’d expected from a fifteenth century Scottish castle, but then, she had to admit, she hadn’t knownwhatto expect. She knew next to nothing about Scottish history, or the Highlands, or the people who lived here.
It doesn’t matter, she told herself.You’re just here to do a job and then you’ll be going home with enough money to end your troubles. And, if she was really lucky, she’d return to the exact same moment she’d left so nobody would even notice she’d been gone. Yes, everything would work out fine, she was sure of it.
Buoyed a little by this reasoning, she drew a deep breath and let it out again, feeling a little steadier. She frowned and cocked her head as she heard noises from somewhere deeper into the castle. The hubbub of many voices. And… singing? And was that even a bit of music?
It sounded like somewhere in the castle people were enjoying themselves. And she’d not been invited? Humph. Lady Rosaline had instructed three maids to take care of her and there was a little bell-pull by the fireplace that she could tug if she needed anything, but what Jenna most needed right now was a little company.
Didn’t Arran realize that she needed to talk to him if she was going to figure out exactly what she was supposed to do to fix this place? Didn’t he realize that staying cooped up in this room—comfortable and lavish as it might be—would drive her crazy?
No, clearly he did not.
Fine. She got up, strode to the door, and pulled it open. A long corridor stretched off in both directions, shiny wooden doors like her own along the walls. Lady Rosaline had explained that these were theguest quarters and from the silence, Jenna guessed she was the only guest right now.
