“Aye. The lot of us descend directly from Silvan and Nell MacKeltar. He wed his housekeeper, so the records say. They had four children. We have twins an uncommon lot in this family.”
“He looks pretty old to be having kids to me,” Colleen said, wrinkling her nose as she bounded back into the Greathall, followed by her siblings. “The tea’s ready,” she announced.
Gwen’s heart swelled. “He was sixty-two,” she said softly. And Nell hadn’t been a spring chicken either. Dear Nell had gotten her babies back after all, and it had been Silvan who’d given them to her.
She moved to the next portrait, but two empty spaces followed. The wall was darker where portraits had once hung. “What was here?” she asked curiously. Had they taken down portraits of Drustan to give her?
Christopher and Maggie exchanged an odd glance. “Just two portraits being touched up,” Christopher said. “There’s Nell and Silvan again,” he said, pointing farther down the wall.
Gwen eyed them a moment. “And Dageus? Where is Dageus?” she asked.
Again, the couple exchanged glances. “He’s a mystery,” Maggie finally said. “He wandered off somewhere in 1521.”
“Is there no record of his death?”
“No,” Maggie replied tersely.
How very odd, Gwen mused. But she would come back to that later, for now thoughts of Drustan consumed her. “Do you have any portraits of Drustan?”
“Mom!” Colleen cried. “Come on, you’re killing me! Let’s get on with it!”
Christopher and Maggie grinned. “Come, we have something more for you.”
“But I have so many questions,” Gwen protested. “How do you—”
“Later,” Maggie said gently. “I think we need to show you this first, then you can ask whatever questions remain.”
Gwen opened her mouth, shut it again, and followed.
When Maggie stopped at the door to the tower, Gwen took a slow, deep breath to calm the racing of her heart. Had Drustan left something for her? Something she could give her children, from the father they would never know? When Maggie and Christopher exchanged a loving glance, she nearly wept with envy.
Maggie had her MacKeltar; Gwen longed for some small token to remember hers by. A plaid with his scent, a portrait to show her babies, anything. She shivered, waiting.
Maggie withdrew a key from her pocket, dangling on a frayed and threadbare ribbon.
“There is a…legacy handed down over the centuries at Castle Keltar. It has been the source of many young lasses’ romantic dreams”—she arched a brow at her eldest daughter—“and Colleen here has been the worst—”
“Not true. I’ve heard you and Dad mooning over it tons of times, and then you both get that disgusting look in your eyes—”
“Might I remind you, that disgusting look heralded the advent of your wee life,” Christopher said dryly.
“Eww.” Colleen wrinkled her nose again.
Maggie laughed and continued. “Sometimes I think the sheer love of it has blessed all who’ve ever lived within these walls. The tale was carefully told from generation to generation as they waited for the day to come. Well, the day has arrived, and now the rest is up to you.” Smiling, she handed Gwen the key. “It’s said you’ll know what to do.”
“It’s said you’ve done it before,” Colleen added breathlessly.
Perplexed, Gwen inserted the key with trembling hands. The lock was old and gritty with time, and it took her a few minutes to work the lock.
As she opened the door, Christopher handed her a candle. “There’s no electricity in there. The tower hasn’t been opened in five centuries.”
Suspense growing, Gwen accepted the candle and gingerly stepped into the room, dimly aware that the entire MacKeltar clan was hot on her heels.
It was too dark to see much, but the glow of the candle fell upon a pile of old fabric and the silvery flash of weapons.
Drustan’s daggers!
Her heart lurched painfully.
She bent over and fingered the fabric upon which they lay. Tears stung her eyes when she realized it was his plaid, and atop it lay a small pair of black leather trews that would probably be a perfect fit.
He’d never forgotten that she’d wanted a pair.
“That’s not all,” Colleen said impatiently. “That’s the least of it. Look up!”
“Colleen,” Christopher said sternly. “In her own time, lass.”
Blinking back tears, Gwen glanced up, and as her eyes adjusted completely, she noticed a slab in the center of the circular room. Her heart slammed against her ribs, and she surged to her feet.