From the conversation at the tavern, I knew I’d probably experienced a Calling, but I wasn’t about to fess up to my crazy visitations. Instead, I blinked and feigned incomprehension. “Uh—I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
Gabby might have inherited her mother’s coloring, but she’d inherited her father’s mannerisms. Her hands started to flail as she explained with great enthusiasm how hearts called across the Brig o’ Doon. “The Calling of true love. The heart calls to its soul mate, who answers back. The lovers actually inhabit one another’s dream space, or in rare cases share a waking vision.” My ears pricked. “It’s usually strongest in the weeks leading up to the Centennial, when the Brig o’ Doon opens and the lovers can be united. My parents dreamt of one another in this way. It was the dreams that brought my papà to the bridge.”
I gripped a loaf of bread so hard my fingers poked holes in its crust. Both Gracie and Cameron, and now Gabby’s parents, had dreamed of each other. But what if the Calling was one sided? Did seeing Jamie in my world—without his apparent knowledge—constitute half a Calling? A predestined condemnation to live a life of unrequited love?
Gabby’s inquisitive eyes shifted between us. “Is a Calling what brought you ta Doon?”
“Nope.” Kenna shook her head and put extra enthusiasm into packing her basket with fresh fruit.
I, on the other hand, panicked. If I told a boldface lie, would they be able to tell? And if I didn’t say something quick, would the hesitation give me away? Kenna gave me a small kick. “Ow! I mean—No! No dreams or anything. Kenna inherited the rings from her aunt. I’m just along for the ride.”
Gabby deflated and reached for an orange, but her mother’s attention only became more focused on me. “No one comes ta Doon unless it is the kingdom’s will. I wouldna dismiss yourself so easily, dear.”
It wasn’t that I’d dismissed myself, but it was hard to believe in your destiny when the boy you thought was in it was intent on dismissing you. I shot Kenna a mental SOS.
She nodded slightly and shifted into Kindly Kenna mode. “Sofia, did you say something about dancing?”
Sofia shook her head. “Yes, there will be some dancing, but with Laird MacCrae being so ill … he will not be able to attend as usual.” She trailed off uncomfortably.
Sharron paused in her work to regard us gravely. “He’s taken a turn for the worse. Doc Benoir does no’ think he will last ‘til the Centennial.”
Before we could lapse into another silence, Gabby spoke in a lowered voice for our benefit. “If Laird MacCrae passes before the Centennial, his successor must be crowned before the Brig o’ Doon opens.”
“So Jamie could be king by next week?” The revelation was shocking. I swallowed my reaction, burying it deep down until I could get away.
“Aye.” Gabby leaned in like a conspirator. “And my sister, Sofie, could be our new queen.”
CHAPTER 16
Veronica
I sat staring at my own empty eyes while Kenna played Extreme Storybook Princess Makeover and curled my hair into dark ringlets with a twisted length of metal she’d heated over the fire—her make-do version of a curling iron. As she chatted about our “costumes”—the flowy calf-length skirts and embroidered peasant blouses Fiona’d brought for us to wear—all I could think about was what we’d learned from the Rosettis: Jamie was practically engaged.
We’d gotten a quick lesson on Doon’s customs by the time we finished our care packages. When the Brig o’ Doon opened for the Centennial, the king had to welcome all who’d been led to his kingdom. If the auld laird died, then Jamie would assume the throne. However, before he could be crowned he had to do this thing called the Completing.