Chapter Nine
Beth looked out from the top of the scaffolding at the wall beyond, waiting for the wind to die down. It had been the first time she’d climbed so high and she was already regretting it. All that was keeping her from plummeting thirty feet to the ground was twine and rough wood planks that swayed alarmingly in the breeze.
Rory had promised her it was perfectly safe, inviting her to join him at the top to look over the work that had been done so far.
“What do you think?” she asked, turning to face him. “Does it meet your approval?”
“Aye,” he replied, running his hand along the stone. “The laird will be pleased.”
“Where is he anyway? I haven’t seen him for a fortnight.” As she said it, Beth felt a pang of guilt. That was more than two weeks since she’d seen her mother. It was almost as long since she’d thought about her. She’d been so caught up in all the building work that she’d had no spare time to think about anything else. Autumn was rapidly heading toward winter. Another week or two of work was the most they could do. Then the mortar would need to be covered up or the frost would damage it before it could set properly. Allow that to happen and the place would be crumbling all too soon and she couldn’t see that happen.
She had come to the conclusion that maybe she’d been brought back in time to oversee this project. It would be a heck of a thing to put on her resume when it came to applying for jobs in the future.
“Have you got any experience of building work?”
“Oh yes, I helped redesign and fortify a Scottish castle.”
“Great, and when was that?”
“Eight hundred years ago.”
She smiled at the thought but her smile faded when a gust of wind made the scaffolding under her creak alarmingly.
She turned to look at Rory who seemed completely undisturbed. “Would you mind if we continued this conversation down in the courtyard?”
“Of course. After you.”
She descended slowly, clambering down the layers of scaffolding, praying as she did every time that she wouldn’t slip and lose grip. By the time she was standing on firm ground her arms ached from the effort of gripping so tightly. Rory caught up with her a minute later, craning his neck for a last look upward. “You’re the master mason we’ve needed,” he said, confirming her theory.
She was back to get the castle sorted and then she could go home. She had tried to overcome the guilt about her mother by rationalizing about time travel. If she went back through the doorway that had brought her back, logic dictated she would return to the exact moment she left. A bit like Return to Oz or The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe, she’d be back in the present at the same time she left and no one would even know she’d been gone.
“They’re trying the vaulting you suggested,” Rory said, bringing her attention back to him. “At the old hall, I mean.”
She smiled. It gave her a headache to think about it too much. In the present day the old hall had stone vaulting and she had been impressed by it. Then she found out the hall had burned because it was made of wood and her advice to vault it in stone was being followed. It would fireproof the building and strengthen it so it would last for centuries, long enough for her to marvel at her own work in the future without even realizing she was responsible.
“It would be a lot simpler to supervise if I was allowed to go there myself,” she replied. “Make sure it’s going the way it should.”
“They are following your instructions. Springers, voussoirs, keystone. Falsework to hold it in place. There is no need for you to attend.”
“Still, it would be nice.” She looked at him and his eyes darted away. “Why does he insist on me staying here?”
Rory managed to glance at her before looking away again. “We should check on the falsework in the chapel.”
She didn’t press the subject. She had told Andrew the truth. She needed to go through the doorway in the old hall to get back to her own time. He had not responded but the same day the order went out that she was not to leave the grounds of the castle. He’d said it was to keep her safe while they tried to establish who had ordered the burning of Pluscarden but she suspected there was more to it than that. He didn’t want her to go. She wanted it to be because of the kiss they’d so nearly shared but he’d been gone ever since then so she’d had no chance to talk about it with him. In the time he’d been gone she became less and less sure about how he felt. Was he just keeping her there for her skills as master mason? Was she imagining that he had feelings for her?
“Come on then,” she said, heading across the courtyard. “Let’s go take a look.”
As they walked she glanced over at the portcullis. It was opening. Someone on horseback rode through a second later. She couldn’t help smiling at the sight. He was back.
*
Andrew took one look at her standing in the middle of the courtyard and his heart soared. He had missed her terribly while he’d been away. Patrolling along the border with his men, he’d been looking for any signs of Norman forces. He’d found a few campfires but nothing more.
On the way back he’d stopped at Pluscarden to check on the progress. The ruins from the fire had been cleared away and the masons and laborers had worked fast. Dressed stone from the dismantled battlement walls of the castle had been brought by cart and were already forming the outline the building would take. The vault that would cover the cellarium had begun and he marveled at the speed of the work. “The difference a master mason can make,” Gillis said, bringing his horse alongside.
“I can hardly believe it.”
“Where is she? Is she not supervising?”
