Page 14 of Love Beyond Time
Memories of what I’d been doing only moments before came rushing back, and panic burst forth as I shot out of the woman’s reach.
“Where’s my mother? What happened? What? What is that?” My voice and fingers were shaking as I pointed to the portrait and stared back at the old woman.
“Oh, ye poor thing. Ye look quite frightened to death.”
I watched as the woman moved toward me once more and pulled me toward a stool in the corner of the room.
The woman was right. I was scared. Attempting to stifle my panic, I followed her urging and collapsed onto the smooth, wooden seat.
“Are ye all right now, lass? Allow me to explain to ye, Dearie.”
I simply nodded as numbness replaced the sense of panic, and turned to watch the woman as she spoke.
“I’ll no be sure about the where and when ye came from, dearie, but I can tell by yer manner of speech and dress, it is nowhere I’ve ever seen or heard about. Not that old Mary’s been or seen very many places.”
I watched as the woman paused and chuckled slightly. Then, seeing my confusion, she stopped laughing and pulled her face into a look of seriousness once again.
“But I can tell ye that today is the third day of November in the year sixteen hundred and forty-five. And it is yer wedding day.”
I started to refute the woman’s claims, only to find that my mouth was dry and my knees were shaking. I sat quietly instead.
“Ye are in Conall Castle, lass, and while old Mary knows ye won’t be the Lady Blaire, the rest of the castle won’t be able to tell the difference, and unless ye want to be locked up, I suggest ye doona let them find out the truth.”
As I listened to the woman speak about my upcoming marriage to the castle laird, laughter threatened to bubble up out of my throat.
I definitely hit my head. The room collapsed, and I am in a coma. I’m in a coma, and I’m dreaming that I went back in time to marry a Scottish laird. That’s what you get for daydreaming nonsense, Bri.
“And what was yer name before ye arrived here, lass? Ye canna be known by it from now on, but I’d like to know yer true name, all the same.”
The woman’s question seemed to throw me out of my thoughts, and I found myself answering automatically.
“I’m Brielle Montgomery. But call me Bri for short.”
“Well, Briforshort, Old Mary’s never heard of a name like that before. I’m pleased to meet ye, lass, but from now on, ye’ll need to answer to the name Blaire, do ye understand?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Now, I’m Mary, and ye’ll be spending a lot of time with me. I’m the one to know around here, believe me. Now what’s yer name again?”
I relaxed a little as I noticed that my knees were no longer shaking, and my breathing had returned to normal. I smiled at Mary as I replied, “Blaire.”
“Verra good, lass! I could tell ye would be a quick learner by the looks of ye. Now, let’s get ye up to yer room before anyone else sees ye dressed in such a manner.”
Mary stood beside me and dusted off the bottom of her plain gray dress.
If I’m in a coma, I might as well try and have a little fun. It’s probably a good sign that I’m dreaming, I’m assuming that means I’m not brain dead. Maybe this dream will allow my brain time to heal. In the meantime, I guess I’ll just marry the Scottish laird I’d wished for.
I giggled inwardly at myself, deciding to enjoy the dream while it lasted. As I stood to follow Mary, I had to stop and steady myself on the wall to keep my head from spinning.
If only my head weren’t hurting so much. But, I guess it probably should be hurting, since a 400-year-old solid stone ceiling collapsed on my head. Wait! Oh, my God! The ceiling collapsed! What about Mom? Is she injured?
I tried to calm my breathing once again and sat back down on the wooden stool.No. I saw her when everything started to shake. The ceiling above her wasn’t moving at all, and she was standing close to the entrance. She’s fine. She’s fine. She has to be fine.
I continued to reassure myself until Mary’s hands touched my shoulders once again.
“Come on, lass. We must start preparing ye for the wedding. I’ll try and explain some more while we are getting ye washed up. Follow me.”
The old woman took off toward a castle corridor, leaving me with little option other than to follow.
