Cora returned to her chambers. A fresh fire had been lit, which she appreciated — it chased the chill out of the room, and besides, she’d always loved fire. There was something so peaceful about the crackling of the logs, the licking of the flames along the embers. She settled herself down next to it with the plate of pastries that had been quietly refilled for her, and murmured another grateful little thanks to Margaret, whose influence she sensed in all the well-run corners of this castle. For a little while, she experimented with melting pieces of cheese onto the pastries, and when she’d had her fill, she just stared into the flames for a while, meditatively thinking of absolutely nothing.

Perhaps she ought to try to get some more rest? It was tempting to just curl up in the bed again — but she could feel that her thoughts were racing too quickly to allow her to sleep. Besides, she’d already spent a good chunk of the afternoon napping. She wanted to be able to get accustomed to sleeping through the night as soon as possible — to recover from the sleep debt or the cosmic jet lag or whatever it was that was making her feel so damned exhausted. Routine was important. Once she was rested, she could start making herself useful. And start working on finding a way home. If magic or ritual had brought her here, surely magic or ritual could send her home — and maybe the tower of mysterious herbs that Audrina had mentioned would hold an answer or two.

These ruminations were interrupted by a gentle tapping on the door — a rhythm she was beginning to recognize. These suspicions were confirmed by the voice that came through the door. Ian, checking up on her yet again. She rose to her feet, smiling despite herself, and opened the door. He’d changed his clothes, finally, and tidied himself up a bit — she noticed he was wearing a kilt and did her best not to stare. She’d not seen them much in real life before. The tartan was beautiful — a pattern she recognized from around the castle. The patterns were linked to family, weren’t they? Each family had a distinctive pattern, like a uniform…

“You’re looking a bit more presentable,” she greeted him, arching an eyebrow.

“I’ll take that as a compliment, I think.” Running a hand through his short sandy hair, he gestured vaguely down the corridor. “I was going to offer to show you around the castle a little. Give you a proper tour, help you get your bearings and all.”

“That would be most appreciated,” she replied, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. It felt a little like being asked on a date, admittedly in an absurdly formal way — here he stood, on her doorstep, asking her to come for a stroll with him. She almost collapsed in a fit of giggles when he offered her his arm — but she took it nevertheless to quell the look of confusion and worry that began to stir in his eyes. This kind of behavior wasn’t quaint to him, it occurred to her — it was just how he naturally conducted himself. That made it incredibly charming, she had to admit.

They took a long, meandering route around the castle, and with his help she was able to get a much stronger sense of where everything was. They talked as they went — his company was comfortable, and he was an easy man to get along with. He was funny, joking with her about her ‘strange future ideas’, and full of stories about the castle.

“You love this place, don’t you?” she asked as he finished telling her about a statue that stood in the east wing — there was a chip in the base of it that had been caused, then inexpertly covered up, by young Donal a few years ago. It had been a castle-wide mystery, by all accounts. He looked up from where he’d been rubbing at the chip with the side of his thumb, hazel eyes sparkling with laughter at the story, and considered her question.

“Yes, I do. It’s my home — my family’s home. We fought hard to keep this place from the English, too. A lot of Scottish families weren’t so lucky.” His voice became more serious, sober after the laughter of lighter stories. “We have Colin to thank for that. He’s not just a great warrior and leader — he’s a skilled diplomat, too. He’s been able to get the English on our side enough to let us continue our lives here. I owe him not only my life, but my livelihood. And so does everyone in this castle, and in the nearby village.”

A loyal man, as well as a dedicated one. Cora liked Ian more and more. She smiled and took his arm again as they continued walking — it was beginning to feel much less quaint the more she did it. They crossed the courtyard. Weak sunlight was filtering down from a mostly cloudy sky, and there was a lot of activity going on. By the north wall, a group of men with swords seemed to be practicing drills — a grizzled-looking older man was barking at them in such a thick Scottish brogue that Cora could hardly understand him. There were a few horses being put through their paces in the yard, most of the riders doing a much better job than Ian had, Cora noticed with amusement. As if he could tell what she was thinking, he hurried her past the riders to the stables.

“Here’s where your best mate lives,” he told her, gesturing to a stall halfway down the row. A familiar snout poked out over the top of it, and the horse whinnied. Here in the light of day, she could see him properly — he was black, as she’d thought, and powerfully built. She could tell why Ian chose to ride him. It was a shame he did such a poor job.

“How you’ve bewitched him I’ll never know,” Ian said, a little jealously, as she stroked the horse’s nose. She smiled, but his words had reminded her of the troubling things Mary had almost told her in the hallway earlier. Glancing up and down the stables, she noticed that they were alone — did she trust him enough to ask about this? She had no choice, really — she trusted Audrina, of course, but Audrina wouldn’t know about a woman who’d disappeared before she arrived.

“Ian — who’s Bellina?”

He frowned at her. “Bellina Corso?”

“I suppose so? I’ve heard that I look like her, some of the servants were talking… ” That was technically not a lie, but it was a little dishonest, and he sensed it — she could tell by the way his jaw tightened.

“She lived here a long while ago. I was telling you about her last night, in fact. A distant cousin of the Laird’s mother, by all accounts. She was a midwife, and a healer — very talented. Too talented, it seems. She went home to visit her family in Italy one summer and never returned. We got word that she’d been captured by the Inquisition, and that was that. They don’t look too kindly on witchcraft there.”

“Did she practice —”

“No!” The horse whinnied at the force in Ian’s voice, and Cora shushed him, stroking his nose to soothe him. “No,” Ian said more quietly. “She was like Maeve — like you — she knew the properties of herbs, that was all. A skilled healer. But some men don’t take kindly to knowledge they themselves don’t own. It’s a terrible situation. Maeve herself almost fell afoul of accusations of witchcraft — but she and the Laird got out of it, thanks be to God.”

“How awful,” Cora breathed.

“But true, the more I think of it, the more I see the resemblance.” Ian smiled. “She and Maeve were thick as thieves, too. They grew up together, always laughing and giggling. Learned the healing craft together, though Bellina was always more interested in being a midwife than a healer.”

“Sounds just like me and Audrina.”

Ian fixed her with a measured stare. “Our Maeve was taken from us unjustly, but she came back to us in time. Perhaps our Bellina has done the same thing.”

“Surely not,” Cora rejoined, a little discomfited. “I’m not — I mean, Audrina was always so drawn to Scotland…and she had all those wild dreams about the place… She was destined to be here. I’m just… I’m just a midwife from San Francisco, Ian. Really. I don’t have some mysterious ancestry or special destiny...” She tried not to think about the strange dreams she’d had the night before. “If I was brought here for a purpose, it was to help Audrina — to help Maeve with her babies. That’s all. She’s the one with all the power — she brought me here. And I’m sure that once she’s back on her feet, she’ll be able to send me home.”

Ian cleared his throat. “So you’re not staying?”

Was that disappointment in his voice? Surely he couldn’t be that attached to her…they’d only spent an afternoon together, after all. And he was second in command of the castle, by all means an important man with all kinds of prospects — if he didn’t have a wife already that she hadn’t heard about. No, surely his concern was all professional. He was concerned for his Lord and his lady, that was all, and for the well-being of his clan. Silly of her, she scolded herself. Silly to be thinking about anyone at all in that way, when she was in the middle of probably the most important thing that had ever happened to her. Not that she’d ever had much time for romance back in San Francisco… God, her life back then seemed so much simpler now. But just because a handsome man was being polite and showing her around a castle, didn’t give her any excuse to let her imagination run away from her. He was looking out for the interests of his family, and she was doing the same — because his family included one of her dear friends. She’d die for Audrina — for Maeve — before she let any harm come to her, and she suspected that Ian felt the same.

“Don’t worry, Ian. I’ll not be leaving until I’m certain that Maeve’s back in fighting form and the babies are healthy. And I’ve already talked to Colin about training up a couple of young healers to take my place, so you’ll not be without a midwife again on my watch.”

He hesitated a little, then nodded, a kind of mask clicking back into place over his eyes. “That’s — good. You’re a good woman, Cora Wilcox.”

If he was a little quieter than he had been on the way back to the castle keep, Cora didn’t mention it. She had enough to be thinking about for the time being — like those dreams she’d had, and what they could possibly mean. She needed to find out more about Bellina Corso, this mysterious woman who’d been so tragically lost, so that she could prove once and for all that they had no connection to each other. It was a coincidence that they looked alike, no more.

But Cora was definitely going to ask some questions. First, she’d talk to Audrina. Back in San Francisco (it was feeling further and further away the more time passed here) she’d always been the best person to talk to in a dilemma — she had this incredible clarity that cut through confusion like a knife. Cora needed that in her life.

She said her goodbyes to Ian, who was still a little quiet, and headed up the stairs for Audrina’s chambers. Hopefully her friend would forgive these repeated intrusions.