Chapter 4
Piper shoved down her discomfort at her too-fancy dress, especially squashed among the kind farmer’s vegetables. She smiled at Catie, who’d fallen asleep pressed up against Oliver. Those two needed to figure things out, stat. First Catie was stringing him along and now it seemed Oliver had decided to play hard to get.
They jostled up to the end of the high street and Piper couldn’t hold back a grin. The village resembled a wild western town in its heyday. People hurried up and down the streets loaded down with shopping, and a few men lounged outside the tavern.
“It’s amazing,” she said in awe. “I think I could stay here.”
“Dinna even think of it, lass. Ye know ye’d be crying in a week without your wee tablet.”
“But it’s so quaint and pretty.” She shrugged, knowing he was right. She already itched to send a message to Evie to tell her all about it.
“Look at the livery on that servant,” Oliver said in a low voice. He had creases on his face from sleeping mashed against a potato sack and Piper had to resist a motherly urge to smooth his rumpled hair. He pointed to a man in an outrageously ornamented uniform, making a ruckus over a glossy steamer trunk. “There must be some important guests staying at the inn. Wonder if they have anything to do with the castle?”
“We should find out,” Catie said. “Perhaps if we make friends they’ll tell us about Bridget’s monstrous parents.”
“Wait, they’re horrible too?” Piper asked, full of dismay. “They’d be my… great-great-great grandparents I guess.”
“I don’t think they’re horrible,” Oliver said. “They just don’t seem to know about magic so they didn’t understand what Bridget went through. She claims the castle called to her and gave her the instructions to make that portal.”
Piper mulled it over. She knew all too well about the castle’s penchant for suggestive dreams. Always trying to get her to go looking for some long-hidden artifact that would surely make her life miserable. The only time she’d ever followed its instructions, she’d found her grandmother Rose’s diary. And then nearly been killed.
No, she had to learn to block out the old stone’s whispers or she’d be completely insane by now. Poor Bridget, having to grow up in that environment. Evie had a theory that the magic in Piper’s bloodline skipped a generation, and it held up. Her great-grandmother Fenella, who’d willed the castle and its lands to her, didn’t get a stitch of it. So, it stood to reason that Bridget did, but her parents didn’t, so she had no one to turn to.
“I guess that’s what drove her to a bad marriage, wanting to get away from the castle,” she said. “If I didn’t like existing so much, I’d say let old Albert rot wherever he is.” She looked at Lachlan, giddy about the years they still had ahead of them and not wanting to miss out on any of them. “But I really like being alive.”
She’d been fighting it with preparations and false bravado, but the thought that she might simply cease to be at any moment terrified her.
“As well ye should. We’ll not leave the scoundrel to rot. And we dinna know what part of anything Bridget’s told them is true.” He took a pause to glare at his sister. “It could be she’s a spoiled heiress who ran away when she didna like the way things turned out for her.”
It was a low blow, but true enough so Piper let it stand. She kept her eyes straight ahead as they made their way toward the inn, not wanting to see Catie’s hurt face. Or enraged face. It was difficult to tell with the Ferguson siblings what emotion would explode out of them from one minute to the next.
“Bridge! What are ye doing here?” a voice hissed off to her right.
It came from an alleyway next to the inn, and a hand snaked out and grabbed her into the darkness. She and her assailant crashed into a pile of crates and Piper whipped out her tiny canister of pepper spray. No matter what Evie said about not taking modern things into the past, she didn’t leave her time without some form of weapon. Not after all she’d been through. She was about to knock the person’s teeth out with her elbow, but stopped with her arm in the air when she saw it was a girl only a few years older than Catie. She looked horrified and bobbed her head in apology.
“Oh my goodness, I do beg your pardon. I mistook ye for my friend.” She cocked her head to the side and studied Piper. “Ye do look so verra like her, though it’s been more than a year since I’ve seen her.”
Lachlan stormed into the alley with a knife raised, quickly jerking it behind his back when he saw the young woman begging Piper’s forgiveness.
“Wait a second, did you call me Bridge? As in Bridget? From the castle — er, I don’t know her married name.”
The girl’s eyes widened. “Do ye know her? Is she all right? I’m so fearful for her. I canna believe a word the foul papers are saying. She’d never…” she trailed off as her look turned suspicious. “If ye’re here looking to haul her away, I have no idea where she is and wouldna help ye anyway.”
Well, it was nice to know her great-great grandmother had at least one loyal friend. That was comforting.
“I’m not here to … well, I am I suppose. We don’t mean her any harm. I’m actually a distant relation to her and it’s very important to me that she’s all right. What do you mean about the foul papers?”
“Have ye been under a rock the last week?” the girl asked incredulously.
“We’ve been far away,” Piper said, glancing at Lachlan.
The girl motioned toward the mouth of the alley where Oliver and Catie stood on the sidewalk peering into the gloom. “If ye’ll follow me into the inn, I can pour ye some refreshments. I’m certain I must have caused ye quite a fright. Ye can read all about it, but I’m telling ye, it’s rubbish. Ah, where are my manners. I’m Lisbet. I work at the inn.”
“Thank you, Lisbet, that sounds perfect. We were looking for rooms if there’s any available.”
Lisbet grumbled with disgust. “It’s clearing out a bit now, so aye, we’ve got rooms for ye. But all these vile nebs coming here hoping for a glimpse of the infamous murderess’ castle— bah.” She looked like she wanted to spit, but thankfully refrained. “Since ye’re a relation, why are ye not staying at the castle?” She laughed and shook her head. “Dinna answer, I know why. I dinna want to speak ill of your kinfolk, but …” Clearly not having anything nice to say about the current residents of the castle, she didn’t say anything at all.
Their little ragtag group followed Lisbet and were seated at a secluded corner table in the crowded dining room. A few people glanced at Piper curiously and she wondered if she should think about some sort of disguise. Lisbet brought out a pitcher of ale and a pot of tea and waited patiently for them to place a food order.
“We ate only a bit ago, lass,” Lachlan said. “We’ll eat again when supper is served.”
She looked disappointed but shrugged and placed a stack of well-worn newspapers in front of them with a sneer.
“Here’s the filthy pile of lies, as ye requested. It’s marvelous fiction.” The poor girl looked like she was about to cry and hurried off.
Piper rummaged in her bag for a thin gold chain and a small emerald ring. “Oliver, can you run and see if there’s a pawnbroker still? Or yet, I suppose. Or else we might not be eating supper, either.”
He looked longingly at the newspapers and she promised to catch him up on everything. But they needed money from this time or their little trip would be cut extremely short. He looked even more longingly at Catie but the awful girl wouldn’t meet his eye and had already slid one of the papers over to her side of the table.
“I’ll have to explain to them which parts are true, if any of it is,” she explained.
He sighed and left as the three of them dug into the papers.
“Escaped with her lover?” Piper said in disbelief after reading a few paragraphs. “That’s Rory, I’m assuming.”
Catie growled. “Aye, and I dinna trust him one bit to keep that part a lie. I saw them dancing on the yacht and it was …” her face turned red and she stuck her nose into the flimsy pages to hide it.
“Dancing on the yacht?” Lachlan asked incredulously. “What kind of party were ye having while poor Quinn’s probably out of his mind with worry?”
“It was Bridget’s idea,” Catie said. “I didna partake. Much.”
Lachlan sighed and then stabbed at the newspaper in front of him. “Defrauding their friends? Embezzlement scheme? Making off with innocent people’s fortunes? Catie, lass, ye must learn how to properly tell a story. Ye left out all of this.”
Piper felt his frustration and shared it. But in the grand scheme of things it didn’t matter. Not if she wanted to stay alive.
“It’s not great,” she said slowly, placing a calming hand on Lachlan’s arm. “But we still have to find her.”
“And it’s just as that tavern girl said,” Catie piped up. “It’s all lies. I could tell Bridget was as shocked as we were to find out she was supposedly a crook.”
“I can see by the gleam in your eyes ye have a theory, lass. Go ahead and spill it.”
Catie took a deep breath. “I think it was all Albert. He did a bad investment and thought it might be a good idea to fake his death so he could pin it on Bridget.”
“That’s a fine tale. Ye should apply to write for these papers. But to what end? What does he do then? Give up his family and friends? He’s supposed to be the lord of something or other. He’d give up that responsibility?”
Piper kept reading and saw the amount that had purportedly been stolen. “He might have done just that. It’s a whole lot of money even in our time. I imagine he could hide out in any country he wanted and live like a king.”
“Aye,” Catie said smugly. “Who’d be a lord when they could be a king?”
“Either way, one of them’s a criminal.”
Piper sighed heavily. It didn’t seem there was any good scenario. If they managed to find Albert and got him back together with Bridget, they’d be abetting the theft of all those people. According to the newspaper, at least a dozen families had been drained dry by the investment scheme.
She looked at Lachlan, longing for him to come up with an answer that wouldn’t make her feel guilty for the rest of her days. Which she still hoped were many. After all, it wasn’t her fault.
“What if it is my fault?” she asked aloud, waving off their confusion. “If we cover this up— that is if we find the scoundrel in the first place— then we’re no better. No, if we find him, he’ll have to face justice.”
“Just let them have a reunion first,” Lachlan said grimly. “I’ll stand outside the bedroom door if I must to make sure the deed is done.”
Both Catie and Piper pulled a face. “Gross, Lachlan,” Piper said, tearing up despite her efforts to remain positive. “I know I always complain about the lack of records about my ancestors, but now the more I learn the happier I was being ignorant. My ancestors were criminals?”
Lachlan and Catie exchanged a look. The Fergusons and the Glens hadn’t been on the best of terms back in their time, usually because of some bad behavior of the Glens. Piper sighed and Lachlan put his arm around her. They lapsed into silence, continuing to read the papers. Oliver came back with a cheerful grin and handed Piper a pile of money and a pair of horn-rimmed glasses.
“It might disguise you a little. Keep all these people from peering at you.”
She put them on her nose, glad they weren’t too strong and she could still see. “You must have read my mind, thank you. Everyone does seem to be peering at me, probably wondering where I hid the body. Or the money.”
“I admit I’m not sure she’s a murderess or not, but I don’t believe Bridget had anything to do with the investment scheme,” Oliver said, his grin fading to find they’d learned of the theft.
Piper felt better that he corroborated Catie’s opinion that Bridget wasn’t a thief. But there was still the murderess part. It hung over her head like a dark cloud, ready to spill rain on her. She wished she could go back in time and meet Fenella, her great-grandmother. Everyone in the village only had fond memories of her. She’d certainly never killed anyone.
Piper put her head down to continue the enthralling story of the daring rescue Rory made in the middle of the night. Of course he wasn’t identified, but the guards at the jail said he was tall and fearsome, wielding either a knife or a gun or both, depending on which article she read. In one the guard was knocked out, bound, and stuffed in a closet. In another, they’d stolen a car to flee from Blackpool, but then the trail was lost. A search for Bridget’s yacht The Mer Princess was still ongoing.
“Do you think she went back to the boat?” she asked.
A commotion at the door of the dining room stole the others’ attention from her question. The servant who’d been dressed in fancy livery when they first arrived was berating Lisbet.
“I say, the food was supposed to be delivered at half past,” he said, pulling out a pocket watch and waving it rudely in her face. “It’s ten minutes late. What do you have to say for yourself?”
“Well, I didna want to bring up food that wasna cooked properly. It willna be much longer. I’ll check on it right now.”
She ran toward the back of the inn and the servant stood in the doorway shaking his head in disgust. He turned a glare on the diners, seeming to send an extra hard scowl in their direction before stalking away.
“So much for making friends,” Oliver said. “That was terribly rude. His master’s probably twice as obnoxious to him so he takes it out on everyone beneath him.”
Lisbet returned to their table to refresh their drinks, her face red. “Sorry for the disturbance,” she said.
“Who is it?” Catie asked. “If ye can tell us, that is. Is it someone to do with the folks at the castle?”
“I dinna think so. The wee butler takes care of everything and they snuck in late last night so I didna see them. Verra particular, that’s all I know. The sheets must be this way, the bread must be that way—” she stopped, turning redder. “I beg your pardon, I shouldna be speaking so.”
“Nay, it’s helpful, thank ye,” Catie told her. “We came to gather information about Bridget. We believe she’s innocent, just as ye do.”
“If they’ve anything to do with Bridge or her family, I dinna know about it. The first thing everyone’s been doing this past week is asking directions to the castle so they can ghoul about the place. Some even claim to be related like ye did, miss,” she said, turning to Piper. “But ye look so like her that I knew ye weren’t lying like they were. That man only seems to care about the wine selection for his employers. And he doesna tip at all.”
“We shall be sure to be quite generous, lass, if ye’ll keep your thoughts about us to yourself,” Lachlan said with a hint of a smile at his lips.
Lisbet turned six shades redder and clapped her hands over her mouth. “I do beg pardon. It’s my greatest vice, my loose tongue.”
“Don’t worry, Lisbet,” Piper said. “We’re glad you let it loose around us. But we would like to keep a low profile while we’re here.”
“Certainly, of course.”
She hurried away with their dinner order now that they had money to pay for it, and Lachlan followed her to secure the rooms. He came back with a dark look on his face.
“There were only two available so it looks as if I’ll be bunking with wee Oliver here, and ye’ll be with Catie, love.”
She felt as disappointed as he looked but tried to hide it so she didn’t hurt Catie’s already tender feelings.
“That’s all right,” she said with unconvincing enthusiasm. “We can catch up.”
“Ye dinna have to put yourselves out for us,” Catie said. “Oliver and I have been sharing quarters since—” She stopped at Oliver’s strangled sound and her face turned red.
The same shade crept up Lachlan’s neck and Piper didn’t think she could handle another screaming match. Not with the inn packed full of nosey lookie-loos. And with her supposedly looking so much like Bridget, she didn’t want to risk ending up in the papers. Or prison. She jumped from her chair and grabbed Catie’s arm before the eruption.
“Let’s make sure the rooms are okay,” Piper said, shooting a quelling look at Lachlan. “Lachlan, sweetie, why don’t you have Oliver fill you in on what’s going on with the farm.”
She dragged Catie away so fast there was no time for Lachlan to argue. She felt bad about leaving Oliver to explain why they’d been sharing quarters but she was almost positive he wouldn’t get hit. Not with the other diners as witnesses.
“What about the food?” Catie whined.
Piper shook her as she shoved her toward the stairs. “We can have it sent up. Are you crazy, blurting out every last thing that pops into your mind?”
She shrugged. “I’m unfailingly honest, is all.”
“Well learn to fail at it from now on, dimwit. Gosh, I can see why Lachlan gets so upset with you. What were you thinking announcing that you and Oliver have been sleeping together?”
Catie’s eyes grew wide with horror and her face went pale. “What? I did no such thing. Not the thing ye just accused me of, nor telling Lach about it. Ach, we just shared a cabin because it was all that was available and he was keeping me safe from the lecherous pirates.” She looked longingly toward the dining room. “I smell roast pork,” she sighed.
“Too bad. Oliver will clear up the confusion but I’m not risking a scene.”
Piper shoved down her frustration with Catie and tried to settle into their small, shared room. There was only one bed and she thought as longingly of Lachlan as Catie did the roast pork. Well, it was only one night.
She hoped. How long might they be stuck in this time? She had another thought, a worse one. What if this particular threat was the one that really ended her? What would it be like to not exist? Same as dying? Not that she knew anything about that. Before she knew it, tears rolled down her cheeks and Catie was hugging her.
“I’m sorry, Piper. Dinna cry. I’ll make it up to Lachlan and Oliver and I’ll learn to keep my mouth shut.”
“It’s not you,” Piper said, grateful for the hug. “I’m just so scared.” She regretted it as soon as the words were out and saw Catie’s reaction.
“Ye canna really disappear, can ye?” she asked, her voice smaller than a mouse’s peep. She crossed herself and flopped down on the bed. “Nay, ye canna disappear.” Her bossy tone was far more comforting than the terrified squeak. “I willna let ye. If I have to, I shall stay up all night and if ye begin to fade, I’ll shake ye and hang on tight.”
Piper giggled. “Thank you, Catie. I appreciate it. Why don’t you go get some food from Lisbet and bring it up? But go to the kitchen and don’t even think about peeking into the dining room in case Lachlan’s not appeased by whatever Oliver told him.”
Catie sniffed. “He’ll tell him the truth, of course. But if ye’re sure ye’ll be all right, I am terrible famished.”
Piper wasn’t sure she was all right but she needed to do something and it would only upset Catie if she knew about it. She waved her off, telling her to bring all the bread she could carry. If it was to be her last days alive, she wasn’t going to be counting carbs.
As soon as Catie was gone, Piper rummaged through the glossy wooden desk until she found paper and pen. It took a little finessing to get the fountain pen to flow and the page ended up being splotchy and undignified. But she had to get her thoughts out. To Lachlan, to Evie, to her mother— would her mother remember her if she never existed? Would her mom still exist? It gave her a headache to think about, but ignored it and continued writing her goodbyes.