Rory stood to take the mugs of tea from her and placed them on the table between them.
“There’s plum pudding there.” She pointed to a plate… three plate loads, actually. “Pick the middle one, it’s Josiah Hemple’s. The others are dry.”
He did as he was told, handing Mrs. Radcliff a plate and then filling his own.
“Sit, can’t abide a person hovering over me.” She waved to the chair beside hers.
“I wasn’t hovering, I was being polite, and I need to go.”
“And you will, after you’ve had tea and plum pudding. Your face is like parchment, and your shoulder’s paining you.”
It wasn’t a lie, so he sat again and drank his tea and ate the pudding.
“No point in brooding, boy, get it out.”
Ignoring her words, he let his eyes travel around the small room. A shelf held twigs, flowers, and leaves tied in a festive knot. Books lined another. Everything was neat and in its place. Warm and cozy, he thought.
“You carry those scars with you right through your life, it’ll be an unpleasant one.” She slurped her tea. “Move forward, boy, and take what’s before you.”
“There are complications—”
“Life’s one big complication. It’s how we go about unraveling them that counts. They’ve a wedding and Christmas to celebrate, and you should be a part of that up there at the castle.”
He ate and thought.
“You’ve that Kate Sinclair in your heart. She’s a pretty wee thing and as fiery as the others. It’s that business between your families, of course. Makes things different. Adds spice.”
“Business?” He didn’t know how she had come to the realization he loved Kate, but he didn’t refute the claim. It was the truth.
“The gifts. You’ve seen them, I know it. They’re protectors, those Sinclairs, and it’s your lot that they watch over.”
Rory remembered what he’d seen in that room, remembered the power in the air. Saw the way Kate had come back from the dead.
“I don’t understand.” Which was true, and if Mrs. Radcliff could at least clear that up, he’d be grateful. The rest… well, he didn’t believe that would resolve itself.
She swallowed the last mouthful and then rocked back in her chair, cradling her mug.
“You witnessed it, did you?”
“I did.”
“Many years ago, back in 1335, a Sinclair saved a Raven. King Edward III gave them land and a title, and since then they’ve protected them. They’ll give you the details, but let’s just say that their senses are heightened, and that’s what makes them special.”
“I saw it and still don’t believe it.”
“I know it to be true.”
“How do you know it?”
“Never you mind how, just that I do,” she snapped at him. “Now drink your tea, then you go on back and face your family and your girl.”
“I can’t do that. They think I betrayed them.”
Her rheumy eyes looked at him as she rocked in her chair.
“But you didn’t.”
“No.”
