Among those who came out were Toothless Nan. Patrick the Woolly. On the steps of Castle McDonough stood Maura, Murdoch, and Jen.
Jen beamed, her hands clasped before her. Murdoch shook his head in awe.
Jen turned and threw her arms around Maura. “Ye’ve done it, child. Ye’ve done it!”
Murdoch laid his hand on her shoulder. “Yer father would be so proud of ye, lass.”
“Aye. He would.” It was all she could manage. Maura was smiling, but her throat was tight.
She hadn’t cried from the moment she arrived in the village near Gleneden. At the inn, she’d flung herself into Murdoch’s arms.
She did not speak of Alec. Murdoch did not ask. When they boarded the ship that took them back to Ireland, Maura stood at the stern for long, long minutes. She stood until Scotland was no longer in view.
As she had once stood watching Ireland disappear from view. Oh, how things had changed since then!
Everything had changed.
Three days later, inside her room at Castle McDonough, Maura glanced out the window. She had to shield her eyes from the sun’s glare.
A faint smile rimmed her lips. Three days, she thought. The Circle had been home but three days—and already there were miracles. The fields were green, brilliantly green in every direction.
She’d fulfilled her vow to her father. She’d brought home the Circle.
Oh, but her heart…she was very much afraid she’d left her heart in Scotland.
The door to her room flew open then. It was Jen, her eyes huge.
Maura cried out. “Oh, Jen, no! What is it? What’s wrong?”
“It’s him, Lady Maura. It’s him.”
“Who?”
“The Black Scotsman. He’s downstairs. Oh, and he’s not at all what I expected, Lady Maura! Should you ask me, the Black Scotsman is not so very black-hearted at all! He’s quite charming.”
Maura’s heart tripped, then began to thud.
“Hurry, love, and change your gown. Let me dress your hair.” Jen was as excited as a school-girl.
Seconds later Maura stood at the top of the stairs. Jen squeezed her hand. “Go, child! Go!”
Maura swallowed. She was shaking so hard she could barely walk. Alec was here!
He stood with his back to her. With the sun shining through the window, gilding his form in gold, he was all power and strength.
Strength! Oh, but she had none. She held tight to the handrail as she descended. At the next to the last step she discovered she could go no farther.
He turned.
He did not smile. His gaze was solemnly intent.
The silence spun out. Everything inside her wound into a knot. She discovered she couldn’t go back, yet neither could she take that last step forward.
And then he smiled.
“Hello, Irish.”
Maura opened her mouth. There was a huge lump in her throat. She couldn’t say a word.
