Dorrie ran a hand through the soft silk of Katherine’s hair.
“I miss her,” she whispered.
“We know,” Lilly said softly. “We love you and are here if you need us. But also know that is not the same as having Somer lounging on your bed and in the room next door.”
She nodded and sniffed back the tears. This was not about her, but Somer. Her sister had found love, and it was wrong of her to feel jealous and sad. Because it could just as easily have been her marrying and Somer feeling this way.
“I can never express what you both mean to me,” she said, looking at the two wonderful people whose house she had lived in for many years. Who had played a hand in raising her to know she was loved and safe.
“We know, love,” Dev said.
Dorrie blinked away the tears. Looking back out the window, she imagined the rugged cliffs and icy cold water below. The church they rolled past. Somer and Gus would marry there, as many of Raven blood had for centuries.
She loved this castle. Old and drafty, it was steeped in history, and she was sure that here lay the link to what had turned Sinclairs into who they were and connected them to the Raven family. A scroll, a book, they knew not, but the secret, to Dorrie’s mind, lay within the stone walls that had stood looking over these cliffs for centuries.
The clatter of the wheels over the gateway and into the courtyard was a relief for Dorrie. Her back ached, and she wanted food and sleep. When the door opened, James stood there.
“How is it you can get her to sleep like that and I cannot?”
Of a similar age to Dev, James was one of the pillars that made up their family. The Duke of Raven, owner of the land they now stood on, he had once been a cold and aloof man. Eden, Dorrie’s sister, had changed that. His hair was also graying, but he was as large and vital as he’d always been.
“She likes me,” Dorrie said.
“True. After all, we are only her parents.” James reached for his daughter. The love in his eyes was a wonderful thing. Gentle hands lifted the slumbering child, and she was settled against his chest.
Dorrie climbed out next with an armful of clothes and the book. The others followed. Lifting her head, she inhaled. The cold air was fresh and clean, and for someone with her abilities, a wonderful thing.
Carriages and horses were everywhere, along with loud voices. Her family had no notion on how to be silent, and Dorrie would have them no other way.
The huge castle walls rose above them. Dorrie saw the crenellations where the armies of Raven ancestors had stood defending their land centuries before. She saw the outline of a flag fluttering in the wind. James had told her what the symbols on it said about the family who lived within the castle walls. The maroon color depicting patience yet victory in battle, three heraldic lions denoting bravery, strength, and valor, and lastly, the cross fitchée announcing James’s ancestors’ unshakeable faith.
The huge doors were thrown open, and light spilled out. James had made improvements over the last few years, installing more lamps and other things to make staying here more comfortable. He had even fitted a large bathing room that allowed a person to stand beneath a shower of warm water. Dorrie loved it and the huge bath beside it.
She walked in through the large doors behind the current Duke of Raven, grateful to step inside out of the cold. Huge graceful arches of stone swept above them, each pillar anchored by intricately carved pieces of wood. It was imposing, and if you closed your eyes, as Dorrie and Somer often did when they came, you could almost imagine the knights of old here.
Children shrieked, running around in circles after so long cooped up in carriages. They ran up the carved staircase and under the armor and paintings that had hung in place for many years.
“Does it feel like coming home now, James?” she asked him.
He gave her a small smile. “It feels like home now because you are all here with me.”
“Yes,” Dorrie said softly. “That’s it exactly.”
CHAPTERTHREE
After a wonderful deep slumber, Dorrie had risen early and started her search for the 500-year-old document that had begun the link between the Raven and Sinclair families. She and some of the older children spent hours going through books and chests upstairs in one of the rooms where things were stored. So far, they’d had no luck.
Disappointed and frustrated over finding nothing, Dorrie decided on a walk before their evening meal. It was something she loved to do here: walk along the cliffs and look down on her family’s home, Oaks Knoll, and the town of Crunston Cliff. She wore a thick coat, bonnet, gloves, and a scarf, because the wind could slice through you if you were not dressed appropriately.
The light was fading as she stopped to watch a gull shriek as it glided over the swirling seas. Many years ago, Eden had thrown herself into that water to save James. The thought still sent chills through Dorrie.
“It’s a beautiful view,” a voice said from over her shoulder. “However, I am not entirely sure my toes will thaw out.”
Dorrie turned to find Gus approaching.
“It is. I love this time of day; the sunsets are spectacular. And tomorrow will be a lovely clear day, I am sure,” she said to her soon-to-be brother-in-law.
“It is, however, chilly.”
