Page 25 of Time of the Druid (Stones of Scotland #7)

Chapter 25

T he next morning, as she worked in the stillroom, humming a soft song, Norah’s heart still felt lighter than it had in a long time. Matthew knew the truth. Matthew would try to help her. At long last, she could see a possible end to the nightmare her life had become. Matthew could free her from Edmondson, and they could have a future together.

“Thinking about that handsome Matthew?” Fion asked, then giggled.

Norah smiled silently and said nothing.

Some of the other women had chosen to join her in the stillroom this morning; it seemed that she’d inadvertently started a trend. The once-quiet space now hummed with the murmur of voices and the clink of pottery, filled with the scent of dried lavender, thyme, and crushed mint. Bundles of herbs dangled from the rafters above their heads, brushing the crown of Norah’s braid when she stood too tall. Someone had lit a small brazier in the corner, and the warmth of it mingled with the faint dampness of the morning air clinging to their skirts. This crannog would have the best-kept stillroom in Scotland at this rate, although it wouldn’t last long if no one knew how to replenish the supplies. Yet, oddly, Norah found herself soothed by the company, even if the small, round-walled room felt full to bursting. Their presence anchored her—a shared rhythm of hands working side by side, mortar grinding, spoons stirring, breath rising and falling in harmony with the soft clatter of tools.

“I’d be smiling too if I had a man that good looking,” another woman said, and they all burst into a flurry of giggles. Norah felt her cheeks warm, but she tried not to react. It seemed that her dancing—and disappearance—with Matthew at the harvest festival had really set tongues wagging.

She let her thoughts drift to Matthew as he’d looked at breakfast this morning. She’d sat beside him for once, taking the opportunity to hold his hand beneath the table as they ate. He’d told her softly that his plans were coming along well, and it wouldn’t be long.

Norah’s heart swelled with excitement at the thought. She and Matthew would sneak into the druid village and undo the spells on the stones, so that Edmondson couldn’t use them. And then Matthew would free her from Edmondson’s dark magic and they could build a life together.

Except… Norah began to think about the details for the first time. Matthew said that the druids had practically invented time travel magic. Were some of those stones actually the ones that Edmondson had already used, centuries in the future? But surely not. Matthew wouldn’t do something that crazy, would he? After all, if he undid the wrong magic spell, then history might completely change.

That couldn’t be the case. But the more Norah thought about it, the more she realised that Matthew’s plan didn’t quite make sense. So, they rushed into the druid village, they accessed the stones, and… then what? Matthew managed to dismantle all the right spells on all the right stones, while still leaving them enough time to escape? He’d said that there was a lot of thinking still to do, but this made less and less sense to Norah. It hadn’t mattered when she planned to poison Matthew as soon as they reached the village and she had her compass, but things were different now. What was he not telling her? Did he think that she wouldn’t understand?

“What is it?” Fion asked, her voice soft and surprisingly sympathetic. “You don’t look all that happy.”

Norah could hardly tell her the whole situation, but it would be nice to talk to someone about this creeping doubt, and who else did she have?

“Have you ever felt that a man isn’t quite telling you the whole truth?” she asked.

The stillroom erupted into chaos—laughter bouncing off the curved plaster walls, mixing with the clang of pottery and the sharp crack of a pestle dropped in surprise. Someone shrieked with laughter, nearly upsetting a bowl of dried marjoram, while another woman leaned on Norah’s shoulder to catch her breath. The space was suddenly alive with camaraderie, filled with the scent of mint and rosemary, the heat of the brazier flushed against their cheeks, and the shared joy of women letting loose among their own. Norah couldn’t help but smile too, swept up in the tide of warmth and wicked amusement.

“Men lie as easily as they breathe,” one woman said.

“I’m pretty sure my husband only tells the truth when he’s drunk,” another woman said, setting them all off into peals of laughter again.

“I know the feeling,” Fion said, her voice quiet and serious. Norah abruptly remembered that she was talking to Bedwyn’s wife. How many lies must Fion have heard already in the course of her short marriage?

“What should I do about it?” Norah asked, her own voice soft enough that she suspected none of the women heard her words over their laughter.

“Just don’t get tangled up in a situation you don’t understand,” Fion said sadly. “That’s my own advice.”

Norah realised abruptly that Fion was probably still in her teens—far too young to see through a charming man like Bedwyn at first sight.

“I hope that your own situation is not tangled beyond all hope of escape,” she said quietly.

Fion smiled, her eyes wistful.

“Being a lady isn’t so bad. Now, I suggest that you find out what you need to know. We can manage the work here.”

She patted Norah’s hand kindly, as if she were the one ten years older. In some ways, it felt like she was. Norah smiled gratefully, then turned to leave. As she stepped into the open air, the sharp scent of rain-drenched wood and lake water met her nose, and her boots squelched softly on the sodden path. The sky above was still grey and heavy with mist, the crannog quieter than usual under the blanket of lingering drizzle.

She didn’t look for Matthew. She wasn’t ready for that yet. Instead, she made her way through the soft rain and into the roundhouse, where she found Jack sitting hunched on a stool near the fire, still damp from the downpour and warming his hands over the flames.

“Don’t worry, Matthew is watching the guesthouse for me,” he said before she could even ask. “I just needed some fresh air. Now, what’s bothering you.”

She hesitated, not quite sure how to phrase this. She trusted Matthew, of course—she loved him—but she just wanted Jack’s expert opinion.

“Have you noticed some slight gaps in Matthew’s plan?” was what she asked at last.

Jack sighed heavily.

“I was hoping you would ask me that before I had to point it out myself,” he said. “Look, I like Matthew. He was always a good lad, and his mother brought him up well. Seems like he’s become a good man. I hoped maybe you could find some kind of happiness with him, but I should have spoken out sooner. The fact of the matter is, I don’t trust him.”

Norah frowned.

“But you just said you thought he’d become a good man.”

“That doesn’t mean he’s being honest, though, does it? He’s planning something big, something so big that I can’t even figure it out. It’s what’s hiding in all those gaps in his story.”

“But why wouldn’t he tell me about it?” Norah demanded. “Why wouldn’t he trust me?”

Jack laughed hollowly.

“Oh, come on, Norah. You already know why. Matthew’s the good guy in this story, and he always has been. But us? We’re the bad guys.”