Page 75 of Once upon a Summer Night

“You know what this is?” Claire exclaimed, excitement in her voice.

Gwen snorted. “Nectar of the gods? God’s gift to humanity? The list goes on.”

Claire’s face took on a rapturous look. “I agree! It’s divine. But I’m almost out…and Reilly always brings me a new one before it empties. He also brings me a lecture of some sort, but that’s easy enough to ignore. So take heart. He’ll be here soon.”

Ellie blinked. “A jar of Nutella? That’s our promise of his eventual return to the castle?”

Claire peered into the depths of the jar hungrily. “Aye.”

“Whoa,” Ellie exclaimed softly, looking up, as Barre, worked her fingers through Gwen’s tresses.

“What?” Gwen asked, alarmed. “Oh, God. It’s worse, isn’t it?”

Wordlessly, Ellie handed her the mirror, and Gwen stared at it for a moment. Then she turned it and studied the sides. She grasped her hair from the back of her neck and drew it over her shoulder, her eyes widening in shock. “What magic is this?”

Claire burst out laughing. “’Tis lanolin oil, made from the sheep. I adore it, for it makes my own untamable hair quite manageable.”

Gwen ran her hand over the silky curls. “So all it takes is a Hollywood stylist? Huh. Seriously, though, how is it not greasy?”

Ellie let out a breath. “You’ve always been beautiful, Gwennie. But with your hair like that, it looks like you’re wearing a crown, and the shine is just…wow.”

Barre was indeed a miracle worker. A smooth circlet of hair, neatly braided, wrapped around Gwen’s head, holding the loose locks back as a headband would. The thick, vibrant curls hung almost to her waist…and not a single hair was out of place.

“You look like a goddess,” Claire agreed. She cocked her head, then hurriedly began to gather her treasures. “I hear horses! I think my mother is home!”

The women quickly stashed the mirror, Nutella, and book in their original hiding places. Barre, ever quiet, simply stood to the side, waiting for them to finish, then followed them out of the chamber before Claire sent her on her way.

“What I wouldn’t give to have a lady’s maid all the time,” Gwen murmured, running her hand over her hair again.

A commotion outside had Claire grinning. “It is indeed my mother! My sire will be most pleased. She’s been visiting the Donovans, and Aunt Erin always sends back something for my brothers and me. Come, I’ll introduce you! My mother is one of the kindest people you’ll ever meet.”

The women had not quite madeit all the way downstairs when Brianagh MacWilliam stepped into the castle. Her husband, Laird MacWilliam, was with her, having met her in the courtyard, and they were both smiling ear to ear as clansmen unloaded her trunks and the goods she’d brought back with her.

Claire hurried down the last of the steps to greet her mother, who opened her arms and hugged her tightly. They exchanged words, but Ellie couldn’t hear them; she was distracted by Gwen, who had frozen in place.

Gwen blinked, then rubbed her eyes and blinked again.

“Are you okay?” Ellie asked, concerned at the shade of white her friend’s face had turned. Gwen dropped to her bottom, plunking down on the cold step, her breathing shallow as she stared at Claire and her mother.

Ellie looked to see what was so disconcerting, but all she noticed was the lady of the house. Brianagh MacWilliam looked to be in her mid-forties, possibly fifties, with an easy smile and inherent grace. Her dark hair was pulled into a loose knot, and her gown was even more intricate than the one Ellie wore.

“Gwen, what’s wrong?” she asked again.

“But she’s dead,” Gwen whispered, her eyes meeting Ellie’s in confusion.

“Who?” Ellie asked, growing even more worried. She bent down and took Gwen’s icy hands in hers. “Who’s dead?”

Noticing their position, Claire and Brianagh hurried over to them.

“Oh, dear, you look to be having a…hard…” Brianagh’s hand flew to her mouth, her eyes widening in surprise, and she blindly groped for Claire’s arm. “Gwendolyn?”

Gwen stared at her in complete shock, her eyes filled with unshed tears. “But you’re dead,” she whispered. “I went to the service. Reilly was there. You’re so much older now—”

“How did you…?” Brianagh started at the same time. “We have much to discuss. Claire, bring these ladies to my solar.”

Claire gently released her mother’s arm and took Gwen’s. “This way, my lady. I’ll have refreshments brought up immediately. You look pale.”

“Because she’s dead,” Gwen managed to say, surprise and a bit of accusation in the whisper.

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