Gwen quickly scanned the area, searching for the old woman, but soon realized Beatha had vanished as quickly as she had appeared. She glanced down at her attire, but nothing had changed. Had she not been still dressed in clothing from medieval times, she’d have dismissed the entire encounter as a bad dream, or even the ill effects from the haggis Beth convinced her to try at lunch. But she couldn’t ignore what was happening, any more than she could explain it. To make things worse, without her watch or cell phone, Gwen had no idea what time it was or how long she’d been in the forest. Judging by what Beatha said, it was well past midnight and her only option was to return to the castle ruins, where she prayed she’d find Beth and answers.

Locating the path in the darkness proved to be a challenge, but once she found it, Gwen sprinted in the direction of the visitor’s center. The trek took longer than she’d hoped and the sun was peeking above the horizon when she arrived at the curtain wall. Shocked to see a castle towering before her where the ancient rubble should be, Gwen stumbled to a halt. The ruins were gone and so was the visitor’s center. Peddlers were setting up carts filled with vegetables, bannocks, cheese, cookware, trinkets, and fabrics in the bailey. Crofters in period attire milled about, tending to their daily activities, and no one seemed to pay her any mind when she walked by them. She wished she had her camera. Without proof, no one was ever going to believe what she was seeing.

“None of this can be real. Not unless these people go all out for Samhain. But it doesn’t explain how this castle got here,” she muttered aloud as she climbed the steps of the keep, then entered.

“Good day,” she said to a woman rushing past. “Could I ask you something?”

“I dinna have time for questions, lass. Best you get yourself to the kitchen afore the laird catches you dallying, or Cook takes a strip off your hide,” the woman said before Gwen could finish.

“The laird, Cook?” Gwen wasn’t sure she heard the woman correctly. “Are you telling me that people are actually living here, and this is not some sort of medieval reenactment or Samhain celebration?”

“Have you taken leave of your senses? I dinna know what you mean by reenactment, and only those who practice the dark arts would celebrate a time when those from the netherworld walk the earth.” The woman frowned. “Laird MacQuin and Lady Lilith are already seated in the great hall and are expecting to break their fast. His lordship doesna like to be kept waiting. Lord Damen is away as he always is on Samhain, but is expected to return soon.” She planted her hands on Gwen’s shoulders and steered her toward the kitchen. “Make haste if you know what’s good for you.”

The people the woman referred to were those Gwen had seen in the portrait hanging on the wall in the visitor’s center, but how could that be? Laird MacQuin and his family died eight hundred years ago, so couldn’t possibly be sitting in the great hall awaiting breakfast. Gwen wanted to grab the woman and demand answers, but until she could get a better grasp on the situation, she thought it best to heed Beatha’s warning, and not disclose she was from the future. She didn’t believe it herself, so was certain those she was about to encounter wouldn’t either. If she ended up locked away for being insane, she might never get to the bottom of this nightmare.

 Gwen’s chest tightened and her heart began to pound, her stomach twisting with dread. She wondered if this was really happening, or if she’d lost her mind, or worse, was dead and stuck in limbo forever. And if it was real, she might never find a way to go back to her own time, to her family and friends...to Kyle. She knew she loved him, but until now, she hadn’t realized how much. The thought of never seeing him again was unbearable and she decided if she got the chance, and he still wanted her, she would accept his proposal.

Gwen sucked in a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. She’d never been one to panic or to run in the face of adversity, but this had to top her list of challenges. Standing here speculating was not going to get her the answers she sought, so she squared her shoulders and padded into the kitchen—shocked to see the flurry of activity. Servants scurried about, some preparing the meal, while others carried trays laden with food. The clang of iron pots resonated in her ears and the tantalizing scents of oat bread, roast meat, and spices teased her nostrils.

“You, there!” a woman called out.

Uncertain who she was speaking to, Gwen glanced around the room, then came face-to-face with a woman storming toward her, toting a wooden platter containing cheese and bread. “Were you speaking to me?”

“Aye, and who else would I be talking to?” she snapped. “Dinna just stand there gawking. Take this to the great hall and be quick about it. Laird MacQuin is waiting.” She gave Gwen the tray, then dismissed her with a flip of her hand.

“So I hear,” Gwen mumbled under her breath. Since she’d never been inside the keep before, she had no idea where the great hall was located. She was about to ask for directions when a man brushed by her, carrying a platter of meat, so she followed him down a long corridor that ended at a set of ornately carved oak doors. 

Gwen entered a large room filled with rows of wooden trestle tables and countless villagers. Ignoring the din of laughter and chatter, she focused her gaze on the dais at the far end of the hall. As she’d been informed, the laird—a tall, imposing looking man, she guessed to be in his mid to late fifties—sat with a pewter tankard in hand. Seated beside him was a much younger woman that Gwen recognized from the portrait as Lady Lilith. The tour guide said she’d been a child bride, forced to marry a man many years her senior, but as Gwen got closer she faltered and almost dropped the tray. She’d noticed some similarities when she first saw the painting in the visitor center, and dismissed them as coincidence, but looking at her now was like staring into a mirror at a slightly older version of her own reflection.

Caught up in the moment, Gwen wasn’t paying attention when she placed the platter before the laird, hitting a jug of mead and spilling it across the table.

“Fool!” Laird MacQuin sprang to his feet and turned to face another servant. “Clean up this mess, then see this woman is taught to be more careful, Robert. I think several lashes will teach her to keep her mind on her duties.”

Lady Lilith placed her hand on the laird’s forearm. “Please, husband. I’m sure she meant no harm. It does you honor to show mercy and forgive the lass this once.” She offered Gwen a sympathetic glance, her eyes widening as she studied her face. “I’ve na seen you here before. Are you new?” Lady Lilith’s voice wavered as she spoke. “What do they call you?”

“My name is Gwen and I only arrived here this morning.”

Upon hearing her name, Lady Lilith turned pale and swayed on her feet, clutching her husband’s arm for support.

“Are you ill? You look as though you might faint.” As Gwen prepared to go to Lady Lilith’s aid, the lairdess held her hand in the air. “I’ll be fine.”

“Now look what you’ve done. You’ve upset my wife and you’ll pay for your clumsiness,” the laird roared. 

“Nay, husband. I’m fine, a little warm is all,” Lady Lilith said. “I beg you na to blame the lass.”

“I’m very sorry for spilling your mead, and promise to be more careful in future.” With downcast eyes, Gwen bit down on her bottom lip, hoping the laird would show her mercy.

Laird MacQuin grunted and waited for his wife to take her seat, before addressing Gwen again. “You’re lucky I am in a generous mood today. My son will soon be returning and according to the missive I got this morn, he brings with him good news about an alliance and acquisition I’ve been after for some time.”

“Thank you,” Gwen said as she backed away. She’d managed to evade the lash this time, but thought it best she make herself scarce. There was no telling if the laird would change his mind, and the last thing she needed was to pique his ire or draw attention to herself. She couldn’t leave the great hall fast enough and when she reached the corridor, she heaved a sigh of relief. The question now was where to go and how to avoid another confrontation with the laird?

“Wait. I need to speak to you on behalf of Lady Lilith.” A young woman called out, then hurried over to where Gwen rested with her back pressed against the wall.

“Who are you and what is it you want?” Gwen asked.

“I’m Mara, Lady Lilith’s personal maid. My mistress would like to see you in her chamber, and bid me tell you.”

“Did she say why she wished to talk to me?” Gwen asked.

The lass shrugged and shook her head. “Nay, she dinna explain why, only that it was verra important and I was na to tell anyone but you,” Mara said. “Will you meet with her?”

Gwen took a moment to ponder Lady Lilith’s request. While she had no idea why the lairdess would wish a clandestine meeting, there was a chance she could shed some light on what was happening. “I’ll go, but you’ll have to show me to her chamber. I’m new to the castle and don’t know my way around yet.”

Mara bobbed a curtsy and smiled. “I’ll tell Lady Lilith you’ll meet with her, then escort you to her solar myself. She must wait until her husband has left the table before she can return to her chamber, but she will come as soon as he’s gone,” she said, then disappeared into the great hall.

Gwen was glad that Mara returned quickly and didn’t keep her waiting. Otherwise, she might have changed her mind. She shadowed the maid down the corridor and up a fight of stone steps that led to another long hallway. When they reached a large wooden door at the end of the corridor, Mara halted, then slid a key into the lock. “I take it this is the laird and lairdess’s room?”

“Nay, this solar belongs to Lady Lilith,” Mara said, then ushered Gwen into the room. “The lairdess has her own chamber with an adjoining door to the Lord’s, so Laird MacQuin can summon her when he wishes to sate his needs,” she said, blushing.

Things were exactly how Gwen imagined they would have been during medieval times. Stone walls adorned with colorful tapestries, wooden shutters on the windows, heavy oak furniture, and a bed in the corner near the hearth with a thick mattress, covered with a layer of pelts and plaid blankets.

“You said you were new to the castle, from where do you journey?” Mara asked. “I’m na sure if you noticed, but you bear a striking resemblance to Lady Lilith. If I dinna know better, I’d swear you were kin.”

The way Mara was staring at her made Gwen uncomfortable. If she noticed the similarities, she wondered how long it would be before others would as well. If only she could explain it.

“I thought the same thing when I saw you, Gweneth.” Lady Lilith stood in the doorway, her eyes fixed on Gwen.