Page 85 of Flanders' Folly
"And Atholl?" Flanders asked. "What became of him?"
"He came out of hidin’ the next mornin’. Moray had some stern words for him, but he could only punish him so much. After all, the Stewarts are important. Uh, were important.”
"But here, now, ye can tell me if the Bruce Dynasty still reigns.”
Wickham shook his head. "Not for long. But we must slowly work up to those details. History is a disgusting drink. Best ye take it in sips." He cleared his throat. "I should confess something, however." He glanced between Brigid and Flanders. "We told ye both to keep the plan secret from each other. Not because we expected ye to obey, but because we knew ye'd put more effort into the pretense. I believe it worked well enough, but I do apologize for the deception."
"Ye tricked us." Brigid shuddered. She probably shouldn’t have taken the man’s word for anything just because he was a fellow witch. But then again, if she’d doubted him, she would have tried harder to escape on her own, and she wouldn’t have seen Bella again.
"For yer own good," Wickham said, unrepentant. "No one will be searchin’ for either of ye, and every witness believed yer anguish was real."
"It was real," Flanders muttered.
James turned to Wickham. "Speaking of manipulation, where did those skeletons come from? They looked authentic enough to fool the gawkers."
"They were authentic, from a more recent century.”
James nodded. “As I thought. One of them wore a ring that couldn't possibly have existed in the fourteenth century. Naturally I worried, albeit briefly, that ye hadn't saved them after all. And if something had happened to ye, I would never get home again to my family. But the ring eased my mind."
“This was why it was important that ye and Robert be the ones to bury them.”
After the past was settled, they enjoyed a sweet dessert before James introduced the next subject.
"What about this house?” He gestured at the walls. "Ye said it's not occupied at the moment?"
"It's a long story," Wickham said. "But I have more business to finish as Grandfather of Clan Muir, so I cannot stay long. Don't worry, I won't leave ye three defenseless. Ye couldn’t ask for better guides in this new world than these two. And my sisters, when they’re available."
Bella took note. "Ye dinnae intend to be Grandfather all yer life?"
"I am working on a plan to pass on that duty."
"What will ye do then?”
"It's not as if I will give up my powers," Wickham said, but he clearly didn’t wish to elaborate.
James’ wife leaned to the side with a sly smile. "Ye should open a school—Wickham’s School for Time Travelers. Each time one of yer sisters causes trouble, ye can fix it."
The man choked on a laugh, then recovered and took a drink. "Fixin’ problems caused by other Muirs is our life's work," he said. "And has been for generations, Grandfather duties notwithstandin’."
"But don't ye think there are others out there?" Phoebe pressed. "Not just witches, but other time travelers? Ifyecan do it, and James has done it, others can use tomb?—"
James cut her off by placing a hand on her arm, then addressed the rest. “We already know of another mechanism for traveling from one century to another. It's in the caverns beneath a particular castle near the Black Isle. I used it a number of times with our fifteenth century friends. Who knows who might emerge from there...if they unblock the tunnels..."
"Let's not invite trouble," Wickham said quickly.
"Invite?" Phoebe raised an eyebrow. "What if someone is stuck in there, looking for a way out?"
"We would know it," Wickham said confidently. "My sisters would surely know it."
Brigid was less interested in the conversation than in the Viking seated by her sister. And her mind finally felt clear enough to reach out to him.
I wish we could be alone.
As do I.
But my sister will make it difficult.
She worries for ye. She’s kinder than she wants me to know.
