Page 86 of Flanders' Folly
She worries I'll choose ye over her.
And will ye?
Surely, I can have both.
Of course.Flanders smiled.
Bella was watching her.It’s charming that ye think ye’re the only two who can hear ye.
And just like that, their precious link was as good as gone. Brigid had thought convincing Bella her love was true would be a simple thing. But now, she worried. And worse, she didn’t know how much time she had left to accomplish it.
Bella was a clever woman. If she wanted to destroy her bond with Flanders, she would find a way to do it.
42
JOAN BLOODY ARC
* * *
Later that night, Flanders found himself in the rear bailey, sitting on smooth stone steps with James, looking up at the sky. It was different here—fewer stars visible, the darkness fading at the edges. Strange lights moved quickly among them, which James called airplanes. And in the near distance, the glow of what he claimed was Edinburgh City created an artificial dawn on the horizon.
"Ye'll like it here," James assured him. "Ye haven't been introduced to technology yet, and technology can make life much more enjoyable than ye could have possibly imagined."
"Ye used to mention that fellow back home," Flanders said. "Who is he?"
James laughed. "Not he. What. Many whats. We'll take it slow so ye won't drown, aye? But trust me."
"More trusting," Flanders sighed.
"Well, trusting got ye here, got Brigid and her sister to safety. And it got me home again to the woman I love." James clapped him on the shoulder. "Aye, I'd say I've trusted the important details of my life to Muir witches. Although..."
"Although?"
"Lorraine and Loretta are...troublemakers." James grinned. "Ye can trust them just fine. Just don't believe a word they say."
“And what if I cannot understand a word they say?”
“Then I suggest ye learn the language. Quickly.”
The language, aye. Vital, yes, but not the most important thing on his mind.
“Flanders, what is it? Besides the wide world ye’ve stepped into. I can see something is amiss.”
Flanders told him about the trouble standing between him and Brigid—that maddening sister.
The big fellow laughed outright, threw his head back and hooted until he couldn’t breathe. “Why didn’t ye say so? And ye livin’ under the same roof as Phoebe! Why, she’s the Joan Bloody Arc of Love.”
“Who is Joan Bloody Arc?”
“Ah, that is one of those sips of history for later. But for tonight, rest easy. By mornin’, my beloved will have a plan all laid out for ye. So take heart. And in a week, she’ll be plannin’ the weddin’.”
* * *
A soft knockon the door roused Brigid from her half-sleep. Her day nurse answered it, then spoke in rapid French that Brigid couldn't follow. She caught only Flanders' name and the word "non."
"Please," he begged. "I'll not enter. Just leave the door open."
The nurse hesitated, then relented with a sigh. "Five minutes only," she said, then stepped aside.
